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#posted this earlier before i meant to by accident

afterglowsainz · 2 days

Note

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #real madrid x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #football #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jb5 #jb10 #jude bellingham gif

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jackhues · 30 days

Text

CLOWNS AND CARS - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART FIVE ]

in which y/n hamilton might've accidently manifested her dad's dnf (australia 24)

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y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & others

y/nhamilton: "what did it cost you (to convince these two to step away from the track)?" "nothing (one of my dad's signed hats)"

tagged: kimi.antonelli, olliebearman

pinned y/nhamilton: guys i know the actual line is 'everything'. stop attacking me, i'm sensitive -> user: i just choked on my water -> y/nhamilton: are you okay? -> user: yeah i'm fine now!

pinned y/nhamilton: @/landonorris see how well MY bracelet would match with that fit -> landonorris: you mean mine? you're never getting it back just accept the fact -> y/nhamilton: never

pinned y/nhamilton: swipe to the end to see a wallaby sniff oliver -> kimi.antonelli: not pictured is oliver screaming very loud and running away -> olliebearman: i'm literally being bullied by two CHILDREN

user: omgg pretty 😍

user: ollie in the third slide is looking up the way y/n normally does when they talk -> y/nhamilton: i'm not short. he's built like a giraffe

user: omgg look at kimi with the koala -> y/nhamilton: that's not a koala. it's a mirror

user: queen hamilton making sure no one featured on her page gets an ego 🤩

logansargeant: invite? -> y/nhamilton: boy you were sleeping -> logansargeant: so THAT'S what all of those calls were for

carlossainz55: 🫎🫎 ->y/nhamilton: 🫏🫏 -> user: i have no idea what this means and i never will, but i look forward to carlos' comment EVERY time y/n posts

doriane_pin: pretty girl 😍 -> y/nhamilton: marry me 💍 -> doriane_pin: 👰👰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 -> kimi.antonelli: what did i just see? -> y/nhamilton: congrats, you were a witness at our wedding!

y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, olliebearman & others

y/nhamilton: last slide is me watching the aus gp if you even care

tagged: lewishamilton, valtteribottas, maxverstappen1

user: I CARE!

user: y/n hamilton back at it with the gp dumps

charles_leclerc: where are the podium pics? -> y/nhamilton: you put that filter on all of the ones you sent. it's not the vibe i'm going for today

logansargeant: are you still depressed about the uno cards? -> y/nhamilton: yes.

carlossainz55: 🏆🏆 -> y/nhamilton:🏅🏅

user: nahh you can't be clowning ferrari. that's your new home -> y/nhamilton: i've got a year

lewishamilton: well... at least i made the photo dump (?) -> y/nhamilton: TWICE

sebastianvettel: since when do you have a cat? -> y/nhamilton: it's a reaction meme seb. i don't have a cat

ausgp: we'll be back next year!!

---

TAGLIST: @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @somepeoplemaybe , @nothaqks , @theforevermorereject , @thatonesblog , @deviltsunoda , @xoscar03 , @mess-is-my-aesthetic , @d3kstar , @bwormie , @ietss , @sapphiccloud , @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug , @urfavsgf , @evie-119 , @raevyng , @khaylin27 , @champomiel <3

send a message/comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

NOTE: fifth part is heree! if you guys want to see something that already happened in prev seasons, send in an ask/comment! i meant to have this out earlier in the week, pretend it takes place before today! don't forget to like + reblog <3

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daceydeath · 1 year

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Hiii 👋 I was wondering if you could write a Chan imagine where yn is the ninth member and her and Chan are secretly dating. Yn gets really sick and has to stay in bed and when Chan is filming a Channies room he hears he call for him weakly. Sorry if that doesn’t make any sense 😭

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long to write but actually it was much harder to write a 9th member imagine than I thought it would be. I do hope you like it though darling. Dacey xx

I didn't know you were filming (a 9th member imagine)

Pairing: Chan x reader Word Count: Genre: 9th Member, Fluff, Comedy (stupidity) Warnings: swearing

Being the only female member of Stray Kids wasn't difficult. Keeping your relationship with Chan secret from Stay however was much harder.

You had caught a cold on the way home from the last Japanese promotions at first you thought it was going to be a minor inconvenience but after a few days it turned out to be a full blown flu. Management had made an announcement that you would be missing the next week or so of promotions as you recovered but you were miserable and felt wretched so each of your members had been taking care of you much to Stay's delight and posting photos of you bundled up in blankets and pouting on Bubble. It was Saturday and all morning Hyunjin and Han had been fussing over you much to your annoyance.

"Chan! I'll be fine" you mumbled pouting as Minho and Felix sat on the other couch smirking.

"You say that but this flu has really knocked you around" he smoothed down your bed hair slightly while Han and Changbin flat out laughed at you.

"I know but I'll just sleep and drink water and stuff. I am fine I am not going to die from it" you continued whinging until you sneezed loudly and proved his point.

"Minho and Felix will stay with you" Chan raised his eyebrows waiting for you to argue "please take you medicine when they tell you to and also eat when they tell you to". You pouted again as Chan chuckled and patted your head.

"See you later then" you sulked groaning and you got up and shuffled to your room.

"See you tonight" Chan chuckled as he left with the others.

Being member of the same group you tried to keep as much of your relationship out of the other members faces so cute nicknames, cuddle sessions and kisses were off the table unless you were alone. It meant you were both much less likely to accidently do something that could cause a scandal, plus everyone loved to tease and joke about each ship that Stay came up with regarding you.

"Oi noona you have to take your medicine" Felix called after you following you with a glass of water.

"Yes Felix" you grumbled pouting as you took the glass from him and took your tablets.

"I'm going to order you some soup and stuff why don't you just rest?" Minho added as you flopped back onto your bed, if you hadn't be so sick you would have curled up in Chan's bed his scent always made you feel better but the best you could manage was the hoodie he had given you earlier in the morning. You drifted off into a miserable sleep hoping that when you woke up you would feel better.

"Wakey wakey" Minho whispered softly shaking your blanket cocoon as you blinked slowly groggy from the sickness and the medicine. "You need to eat something it will make you recover faster".

"Alright" you snuffled slowly sitting up before Minho helped you to stand.

"After you eat something you need some more medicine" Felix smiled as you sank into the couch cushions, taking a bowl of soup from Minho's hands you sat and ate slowly the warm liquid helping to soothe your sore throat, the boys put on a movie and sat with you for a few hours making sure you kept hydrated and trying to lift your mood. But with the medicine making you drowsy again you couldn't help that you ended up falling asleep in Felix's lap as he played with your hair.

"Aw she looks so cute when she's sleeping" Han cooed making you blink and look around.

"Didn't I just say not to wake her?" Chan sighed looking between Han and you as you rubbed your eyes "How are you feeling?".

"Like I have been run over by a bus" you yawned sitting up from Felix's lap "Is there anymore soup?"

"Already heating in up for you" Minho called from the kitchen making you smile they had been taking care of you so well and you knew you were lucky, had you been left with Han and Hyunjin the dorm might have caught fire.

"Thank you" you croaked while Felix propped you up on some pillows and Chan got you a glass of water. They all continued to fuss over you while you ate making sure you were warm enough and comfortable.

"Changbin and I are going to the gym later you in Chan?" Han asked while he played around on his phone.

"Nah, I going to do to a live later so I'll make sure shes got her medicine and stuff too" Chan shrugged casually sitting on your left with his arm around your shoulders.

"Oooh looking at doing a bit of team building?" Han teased taking your empty bowl again.

"Fuck off she's sick one of us has to take care of her and since Minho and Felix were here all day it's time for someone else to have a turn tonight" Chan groaned at how stupid Han was being while Minho and Felix made kissing noises that made you laugh, and then cough a lot.

"Stop trying to kill me" you whined burrowing yourself into Chan's chest so that they couldn't see your face any longer.

"Alright I think you need another nap now" Chan sighed as your breathing returned to normal, you simply nodded knowing that arguing was pointless as Chan helped you to stand and you shuffled off without complaint to your room to get some more rest.

When you woke up again it was late, checking your phone you realized there was a glass of water and medicines sitting next on your bedside table with a note Chan had left you saying to take them as soon as you woke up and call for him if you needed anything. Smiling you took your medicine and sat up in your bed a little thinking that you should probably get up and get something warm to drink to help you fall back asleep. Picking up your phone you messaged Chan saying you had woken up and taken your medicine, he answered that he hoped you were feeling better and that if you needed anything he would get it for you. You felt your eyelids growing heavy again but after ten minutes you still couldn't fall asleep you could hear Chan talking but not who he was talking to, so you decided to call to him.

"Channie? Are you there baby?" you called your voice croaky, you head him pause but then he started talking again.

"Channie, I need cuddles to sleep" you called again whinging as you again heard him pause and your phone lit up with a message from Chan that only said the words on live. Frowning you sat for a few moments before you heard Changbin's voice from somewhere in the hallway.

"Chaaaannnnnie" he called in his most annoying high pitched voice before ducking into your room.

"Changbin what are you doing?" you chuckled as he sat on the end of your bed trying to hold in his laugh.

"He's doing an episode of Chan's Room all of Stay just heard you call him baby and ask for cuddles" he explained as he shook with laughter as your face paled further.

"Shit" you groaned flopping down on your mattress.

"Channie I love you" Han shouted from the opposite end of the hall.

"Channie marry me?" Changbin yelled louder this time as you opened the live up on your phone to see what was happening. Chan was sitting on his bed head in his hands, flushed pink and trying not to laugh as the comments of how chaotic you all were, whether this confirmed you were together or if this was a prank you were all playing on him.

You continued pouting even after Changbin left your room to go back to the lounge room where he and Han had been eating after their workout. You continued watching the live as Chan explained how you had all decided to tease him once again and that he was going to have to move to the other dorm for some peace and quiet eventually he signed off with his signature hug and finished the live, then you heard him shuffling around and you knew he was going to come and scold you. As he opened the door you gave him your best puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't know you were doing a live" you kept the misery act up until he sighed deeply walking across your room and sliding in behind you.

"I better cuddle you to sleep then, since Stay thinks we are so cute together" he teased softly holding you tightly against his chest.

a/n: Thank you for reading you beautiful human! Any likes, reblogs and comments are loved and adored xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow, @mrsseals16, @fawnpeaks, @leeknowinggg, @uno7,

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halfagone · 3 months

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So Here's the Thing About the Fenton Parents...

I have written more than one post about the Fenton parents now. You might have seen them, you might not have. These are the two posts if you're curious: meta post and the original ask that inspired the meta.

From these posts, I've learned that this topic can be very divisive in the fandom. There are those that prefer them depicted as good parents, others as bad, some search for a more mild depiction of the Fentons' poor parenting, so on and so forth. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. If you want a certain depiction or trope, please read those and be respectful to those who don't. It's as simple as that.

However, there is something that I realized we don't talk enough about as a fandom. I'll admit, I've done the same:

How can we depict the Fentons as good parents when they cannot adhere to basic safety standards?

It's easy to excuse this as quirky, eccentric behavior. This is a cartoon show after all, we shouldn't take it that seriously. Except... Danny Phantom, the show, has also showcased how their lacking safety measures has hurt and injured the people around them. More than once.

Vlad was first with the proto-portal in college. Arguably, their children have been struggling with their parents' carelessness long before the portal was ever finished: their food is constantly ecto-contaminated, coming back to life to traumatize their young kids, as we see in "The Fright Before Christmas". And then, of course, we have the Accident. Danny is turned half-ghost, and the rest is history.

Only... now these two have ecto-powered weapons that they use to hunt ghosts, caring very little when their hunts intrude on or injure their children, like the multiple occasions they have turned their weapons to Jazz, who is neither half-ghost or anything ghost-adjacent in canon.

There have been multiple scenes where the Fentons blatantly choose to ignore safety standards. The meta post I linked earlier shows a couple of such examples. But you might be wondering, what does this have anything to do with their parenting style? Well...

If they were good parents, their children's safety would be top of mind.

The Fentons cannot be wishy-washy with their basic lab procedures and also be good parents. These two facts cannot coexist, especially so when their lab headquarters is in their home, where curious children can walk in at any time, unsupervised. Should kids be walking into a lab with dangerous chemicals around? No, but it is their responsibility as parents to make sure their kids don't roam about.

It is their responsibility to teach their children this basic safety procedure, and adhere to it themselves, because it is meant to protect them and everyone around them. This cannot be a "do as I say, not as I do" situation. Their failure to be responsible can both directly and indirectly harm others, as we see from canon, where Danny becomes a halfa in a second portal accident.

Strictly speaking, if Danny had good parents, he would not have become a halfa in the first place. If the Fentons were good parents, they would have been there, in that lab, with Danny, Sam, and Tucker, supervising their visit. Danny would have never been allowed into the portal which- at that time- had been dysfunctional. Furthermore, even if Danny had been allowed in the portal, it should have been unplugged in adherence to safety code. Therefore, even if Danny did trip and hit, say, a misplaced "On" button inside, it wouldn't have turned on because it should not have been powered up to begin with.

More than once, safety measures could have been implemented to prevent a lab accident, yet nothing ever came out of it.

Furthermore, neither Fenton parent make an effort to reach out to Vlad after his own accident. Of course, we could extrapolate and say that the Fentons tried but were barred entry. However, that is more wishful thinking and personal headcanons than based on concrete canon evidence. What does this indicate about the Fentons?

Simply put, they are not good people. Of course, there are many characters in media that are depicted as villains but show compassion and care for their children. The Fentons are not one of them. They say they love their children, but very few times do they show it outside fighting off ghosts- which they would have done regardless if their children were there or not. They do not have respect for personal boundaries, public or private property, or public safety.

There are more than a few examples of this, but here is a very obvious one: the portal itself.

The Fentons believe that ghosts are nothing more than scum; they believe ghosts are malicious entities that would destroy the world given the chance. And yet they thought it was a good idea to create a portal to a world full of so-called malicious entities with little to no preparation whatsoever.

Oh sure, they have their weapons, but as we can see these two cannot be everywhere at once. Not even Danny, with superpowers, can be everywhere at once. The Fentons do not build a door for the portal until episode 13 of the series. 13 episodes. By this time, there have already been multiple ghost attacks, some of which spanned city-wide.

Incompetence is not an excuse. In fact, that incompetence should outright disbar them from keeping their children.

At the end of the day, whether you believe the Fentons really do love their children beyond their prejudice, they have repeatedly shown that they cannot be trusted to care for their children. This begs the question:

Is it still possible for the Fentons to be good parents?

Technically speaking, yes. Everyone is capable of change. The Fentons are more than capable of learning from their mistakes, although evidence indicates that they likely wouldn't, seeing how there were two portal accidents.

But yes, they can learn from the past and become better parents in the future. Jazz and Danny would likely have to be removed from the home until they update and comply with safety regulations, and they may even lose their business license because of their failure to adhere, but it is still possible.

However, the Fentons were not always good parents. Even if they were to learn and grow as people, it cannot be ignored that once upon a time, they had been responsible for a lot of damage: material, physical, mental, and emotional. This can come with consequences, including prison time and losing custody of their children.

Of course, we could choose to ignore all of this. We as a fandom do that for many aspects of canon, the Fenton parents could just be another one. You could argue that canon declares the Fenton parents are good.

But here's another thing:

The Fentons redeem themselves as parents when they accept Danny after a reveal. They are not automatically good ones.

Hopefully this will be the last meta on the Fenton parents from me. I understand people want Danny's parents to be good, and they certainly can be, but I am tired of people ignoring the very real neglect and abuse both their kids suffered. You do not have to have the Fentons dissect Danny to make them abusive. You do not have to have the Fentons work day and night to make them negligent.

Abuse and neglect cover a variety of cases. That includes kids like this too.

Thank you for reading.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #long post #meta analysis #character analysis #show analysis #with yours truly :D

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month

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A/N I have some requests in the chain above this one but wanted to post something that was a stand alone and not a part to another fic I wrote earlier because of how long I have been away. I promise the two requests lined up before this (pt 3 of till death do us part and pt 4 to cover up) will be out soon! Also, this request reminds me of Cinder by Marissa Meyer so there is some mild inspo from that in here (and loose quoting. sorry. I got carried away.).

What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.

Warnings: Hurt//comfort. This might've ended up a little more angsty than intended and I kinda ran away with the prompt. Sorry about that.

Word Count: 2,246

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?”

Y/n's question hung in the air of the dimly lit kitchen, echoing off the uncertainties late hours like this one always seemed to carry. Alastor froze where he stood by the stove, his hang halfway to the kettle whistling away upon it. He turned to face her where she sat at the far end of the rough hewn kitchen table, her head in her hands and her hair acting as a curtain, as a shield, hiding her face from view.

The meeting had been an accident. Alastor had found himself craving a cup of tea to accompany his late night preparations for tomorrows broadcast and when he had entered the kitchen, he had found her sitting there. Since the day Y/n had shown up at the hotel in all her bright and wild exuberance, Alastor had felt a connection with the girl. She was bubbly, a showman at heart with a soft spot for the macabre, how could he not automatically find a certain level of camaraderie with her? Everything had changed after the battle with Heaven a few weeks before.

Y/n had fought valiantly, using all her brains and brawn to protect the place she had come to call her home and the people she had discovered to be her family. The battle did not take her life, but she did give an arm and a leg to its hungry fervor. With Lucifer's help, Charlie had managed to get her an appointment with a well known doctor in Pentagram City. The man had given Y/n back her ability to stand, to reach for things, but had taken the mangled remains of her human form in the process. She had been brought back to square one, learning how to walk, to hold a pencil. She had been filled to the brim with wires that allowed her to control her new appendages.

The conversation had been an accident as well. Alastor hadn't meant to open the can of worms he was now sifting through. He had just spotted her sitting there, had casually asked how she was doing. Y/n was always so human, so much more human than he was capable of being. It was the only thing that had ever held him back from taking what he wanted, that wild and irrevocable humanity of hers.

"I would take the cure." Alastor replied after a moment, turning back to the stove and at last lifting the kettle, pouring the hot water into his favorite mug, "It would be better than the alternative."

With a decided intent in his step, he made his way over to her. The legs of the chair scraped dangerously across the floor as he pulled it out and took a seat beside her. Y/n looked up.

Alastor was shocked at what he saw. Y/n had been hiding since the battle, claiming that she was recuperating. No one had any reason to doubt her given the injuries she had sustained but now, Alastor was not so sure. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles dulling the pink of her cheeks. She was silver in the moonlight as it streamed through the window but she did not shine as she normally seemed to.

"I'm not human anymore."

Y/n's voice was cracked and raw, it only made him love her more. Out of all the creatures in Hell, she was the only one who would worry about such a thing, he was sure of it. Alastor had to stop himself from laughing, focusing on the heat of the cup held between his hands.

"You never were. You haven't been in a long time." he mused in response and Y/n sighed.

"I don't feel like a person anymore."

Again, another contradiction. Y/n was a demon, through and through. Not quite an overlord but powerful, well on her way to becoming one. There was nothing human about that in Alastor's eyes. The way he saw it, the moment a soul died they stopped being a person, no matter where in the afterlife they ended up. It was clear she would not agree. They had never talked of such matters before, it was an unexpected revelation. Alastor took a deep breath.

"Why?"

Y/n was silent, her eyes returning to the table as she traced the grains of the wood. It was unlike him, the concern, the curiosity for such an emotional matter. Alastor had long since given up on trying to make sense of the things she provoked in him. He tried again.

"How do you define being human? Is it what you look like? What you're made up of? Or is it who you are."

It was a clumsy attempt. There had been no need to provide comfort for a long time, not since Alastor had been alive. He was out of practice but, he supposed, caring for another was rather like riding a bike. Once you learned how it was done, you never really forgot.

"Who you are but..." Y/n's eyes met his once again, the conflict occuring behind them apparent.

She was unsheltered, the facade was gone. Alastor would consider himself close with the demon, closer perhaps than anyone else at the hotel but still, he had never seen her like this. His heart hurt.

"At the same time," she continued solemnly, "there is more to it than that."

"How do you define humanity?"

Y/n thought for a moment.

"Dancing. Spending time with friends, having people who care about you. Making meals together, reading books and poetry. Making art. Feeling one with the world around you, being a part of the earth we all come from."

Alastor held another laugh at bay. It wasn't out of the blue but, at the same time, there was something strange about hearing the words as they left her lips. He took a sip of his drink, the hot liquid worming its way down his throat and into his stomach.

"Doesn't the fact that you now find yourself to be inhuman at all show at least some of those?"

Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion, her brow furrowing. Alastor sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"What I mean is that the reason you have those bionic limbs of yours at all is because you have people who care about you enough to get them for you and you cared enough about other people to give up what you originally had. If that isn't having people who care about you, spending time with friends, being one with the world around you, I don't know what is."

"But I am not of the earth any longer." Y/n ruefully replied.

"You are."

"How? I am naught but metal now. I traded steel for skin."

In the weakness of the night breeze, she seemed to slip into the skin she once wore. Flowery language, a posh, nearly transatlantic accent, shoulders straight and strong, all reminders of her upper class upbringing from so long ago. He could almost see her now as she must've been. It was a trick of the light.

"You were buried, right?"

Y/n nodded.

"I believe so. Beside my mother."

"Then you are forever of the earth."

"To the earth we must return," Y/n nodded after a moment in solemn agreement, "but I will never dance again."

Alastor had never even known it was something she had enjoyed. The time for questions was later, he got to his feet, his cup left abandoned on the table.

Alastor summoned his staff with a wave of his hand, leaning it against the sideboard as a soft song began playing from its speaker. Turning to Y/n once again, he offered her his hand. Y/n eyed it tentatively before reaching out her own to grab it.

With a shake of Alastor's head, she halted mid movement. He didn't need words to get his point across, Y/n just didn't like it. Lowering her hand, she raised the other. It was heavier, made from something other than flesh. There was an ungainly sense to the way she moved it. It didn't flow graceful through the air, it was too heavy for that. The metal of her fingers was cold and harsh against his palm as he helped her ineptly to her feet.

"Ella Fitzgerald." she mused softly, her eyes on his microphone.

"I didn't know you liked jazz."

Y/n's eyes met his once again and she gave him a half hearted smile.

"Growing up in the 1930s and being someone who held distaste towards jazz would have been an impossibility, wouldn't you agree?"

He had known she was alive sometime around the turn of the century but, that had been it. Alastor grinned from ear to ear at this subtle revelation.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Letting go of her hand, Alastor took a step back. He bowed. Y/n couldn't help it, she laughed a little.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Alastor looked up at her, still bowing as their eyes met. Slowly, he straightened himself up, holding a hand out to her once again.

"Y/n, would you do me the absolute honor of sharing this dance?"

He had hoped his showmanship would make her smile, make her laugh even, the way it normally did. Instead, she withdrew her arms to her chest, taking a halting step backwards as she shook her head. Alastor's gaze softened. He had never seen her afraid before.

"Please."

"I..."

Y/n's eyes flitted wildly around the room, searching for any excuse, any fodder for her escape. At last, she relented, hesitantly placing her hand back into his own.

"Okay."

Her voice was soft, almost breathless. Alastor pulled her into him, snaking an arm around her waist as she placed her other on his shoulder.

"See?" he asked as they began to dance, "All is not lost to you."

There was nothing elegant about her movements. Y/n grimaced.

"But it is not the same either. Once I was something grand."

"Change is inevitable. You are still someone grand."

"Not change like this."

Alastor spun her out, catching Y/n in his arms as she almost tripped over the weight of her foot.

"Why do you hate it so much? Is it vanity?"

"Change is inevitable." Alastor said again and was overjoyed when Y/n rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as his response, "You're still beautiful, almost more so now."

This took her aback. The tingle of a question at the back of her mind was outweighed by shock. She stilled, still pressed close to Alastor as the music filtered softly into their ears.

"What?"

"Before you shined, but just on the inside." Alastor admitted, refusing to look away from her wide eyes even as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks, "Now you do on the outside as well, see?"

He held the hand he clasped tightly in his own up to the light streaming in through the window. The moon glinted off the silver surface of the metal, sending playful patterns scattering across the walls of the kitchen. Y/n's breath caught in her throat.

"And you can still dance. Why don't you help me with dinner tomorrow?"

It was something they had done on occasion before the extermination, cook for the inhabitants of the Hazbin Hotel together.

"Why are you doing this?"

The smile slipped from Alastor's face.

"I don't understand." Y/n shook her head, pushing herself away from Alastor and wrapping her arms around her torso, "Why are you doing all this for me?"

The answer was simple. Sometimes, the truest things in life are.

"Because I love you." he admitted, "And it pains me to see you like this."

"I..."

He had known it was too good to be true. The music stopped, his staff vanishing into thin air as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'll go. Just... make sure you get some sleep tonight, I know you havent been."

He was halfway to the door, mostly past her, when he felt the cool grip of her hand on the exposed skin of his wrist. Alastor stopped, he turned. There was a minute bravery in the act. Not that she had stopped him, that she had grabbed his arm. If anything, that was the most normal thing that had occurred all evening. No, it was the arm she had chosen to use, the one she held such conflict over and saw as something to be embarrassed about, ashamed of.

She stood tense in the moonlight, her free hand raised to her chest.

"I..."

Y/n's mind was spinning, her thoughts firing off at a thousand miles a minute. She wanted to say it, knew it was true, but something stopped her. She wasn't ready.

"Thank you, Alastor."

Alastor smiled softly, almost sadly over at her. Gently, he removed her hand from his wrist, holding it in his own and patting it gently.

"Always."

------

QUOTES REFERENCED (BECAUSE I REFUSE TO STEAL OTHERS WORK EVEN FOR A FANFICTION)

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?” -> taken from “Imagine there was a cure, but finding it would cost you everything. It would completely ruin your life. What would you do?” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was." -> taken from “Vanity is a factor, but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth.” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007

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aklaustaleteller · 5 days

Text

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really.

Word Count - 1.4k

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour.

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creedslove · 9 months

Note

Still the slick back anon

I have my faith and trust in you and anything that has wet Joel

Maybe sharing that shower in Lincoln with him? Just taking care of him but he has to stay quiet cuz Ellie is downstairs

Post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: You two besties made me cry and crave Joel 😭😭😭😭 also, the two ideas were so cute I had to get the two of them together

The first time you touched Joel's hair, you were working at the hair salon in Jackson, he hadn't been in the city for a long time, and you weren't a highly qualified hairdresser, but like most of the abilities and professions in Jackson, they were taught and passed on from person to person so the city wouldn't be unattended in some activity in case someone passed away or got unable to work for whatever reason

You found out giving people haircuts weren't as difficult as you thought, all you needed was a steady hand and some practice and soon enough you were able to help out even your boss wasn't around

You still preferred doing men's hair as you considered them easier than women's, but in reality, you were just scared you would screw up someone's haircut and you knew that could mess up someone's self-esteem, it was already a harsh world the way it was, you didn't need to make someone's life a little worse by doing some shit to their hair

But once you got confident, you were able to do it without much worry and you started enjoying it for real, just doing people's hair and seeing how happy they usually got at a very trivial activity

Your boss usually took a lunch break and left you handling the salon on your own when things were slow, which you didn't mind, it meant you often got to go home earlier

And that's how you met Joel Miller: it was right after lunch and he'd taken Ellie for a haircut, as her hair was very long and in need of care

She was very excited about everything, from sitting on the big chair to rinse her hair to the actual haircut, she seemed mesmerized, being the first time she was actually at a salon

You thought it was sweet and you could swear you saw a flick of a smile crossing Joel's face once he saw how happy Ellie was

He was quiet and didn't say much, only giving you his name - which you already knew, after all he was Tommy's brother - and that he thought his brother definitely needed a haircut too, which made you chuckle

However, Joel wouldn't stop looking at you, the way you showed Ellie the things and explained to her exactly what you were doing, being patient at how she absorbed new information

He never really cared about haircuts at all, before the outbreak he would only get one when someone told him to, and after the outbreak when Tess offered to do it with a rusty pair of scissors

She tried her best, but she very often pulled his hair by accident, or the fact she didn't actually have a comb or because Joel's hair was all the time so goddamn dirty

When you finished with Ellie's hair, she was very excited about it, and you helped her make another ponytail, though this time her hair was neat and shiny, and smelling very good

Joel thanked you politely after she flew out of the door to explore the city and you smiled

"If you'd like, I can give you a haircut too, Joel… your curls are very wide and they'll soon be falling over your eyes…."

You offered him and you could swear a hint of blush crossed his cheek, as he cleared his throat and shook his head, saying he couldn't pay, but you shrugged it off

"It will be on the house, don't worry Joel…"

You assured him and asked him to sit down on the chair, taking a quick look at his hair and feeling a hint of sadness to see how his beautiful curls were tangled

You explained him you would need him to sit on the other chair, so you could give him a full wash and untangle as much as you could without hurting him

He scoffed a little, finding amusing you were worried about hurting him with the tangles, after everything that happened in his life, it wouldn't be a hair pull that would cause him distress

You wetted his hair before applying some shampoo on it, massaging his scalp and seeing he closed his eyes in relaxation and let out a low groan

Your fingers were so gentle massaging his scalp and cleaning up his hair real good; you felt a large scar on the right side of his temple, going all the way under his hairline

He widened his eyes the moment he felt your finger on his scar, but you immediately pulled away from it

"I'm sorry"

You said in a low voice and began rinsing his hair washing down all the bubbles and combing it softly; slowly the knots dissolved

So you asked him to sit facing the mirror again and you proceeded with the cut, being careful not to cut off his curls, they were very precious and you wouldn't want him to get rid of them

His hair was silver-fox like but so soft and now it smelled really good

"Do you want me to dry it for you?"

"No, it's fine that way… thank you"

He said a little shy and ran his one fingers through his hair, feeling how clean it was and slick it back, looking at himself in the mirror

"You look really good like that, Joel"

You blurted out feeling embarrassed but also warm on the inside at how he smiled at his own reflection

And after that first interaction, Joel couldn't stay away from you, so he very often came up with excuses to stop by at the salon because having a haircut once a month to see you wasn't enough

So Joel had to gather courage and ask you out and you accepted in a heartbeat

And it didn't take long for you two start dating and in a matter of time, you moved in together

You and Joel couldn't keep your hands off each other most of the time and you couldn't even explain how you felt whenever you saw his hair slicked back

It just stirred something inside of you and you couldn't resist him

But unfortunately, Joel couldn't stay in bed with you all day long, sometimes he needed to go on patrol and you missed him dearly

So you decided to shower and wait for your man, knowing once he got home, you'd be clean up and smelling so good for him, when Joel ended up coming home early from patrol

Ellie was lying on the couch pretending to do the homework when she informed him you were upstairs, so he ran upstairs as fast as he could, wanting to find you in the shower and have his moment with you

He could hear the water running and got rid of his clothes immediately, wanting to join you and spending time with you

You were distracted as you finished rinsing your hair the moment Joel stepped inside pulling you by the waist and getting under the shower

You chuckled as you watched the way he looked like a street puppy caught in the rain, but as if he read your thoughts, he slicked his hair back and you just felt horny for that man

"Ellie's downstairs?"

He just hummed a response, pulling you closer and kissing your lips, your soft naked body against his, in a way he wasn't sure he deserved it but he was selfish to argue otherwise

You broke the kiss and immediately got on your knees

"So you'd better keep it low then"

You winked and took his cock in your hands, pumping it gently as he grew harder for you

You blew Joel in the shower, the pleasure face he had just made you prouder and prouder of yourself, loving his body, his taste and his touch

You loved Joel entirely, but when he had his hair slicked back, maybe you loved him even more, because he was just perfect for you ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

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lacunafiction · 10 months

Note

How would the ROs react to someone asking for their number when they are dating the MC?

Hi Anon,

I hope you’re doing well.

For this ask, we are going to pretend cellphones are common in Fernweh despite the lacking signal. :D

B: I feel like B might actually almost give it before realizing this was meant in a romantic way. Let the backpedaling begin! “Oh yeah, I'll add you too. My partner has all the heart emojis though. They are also, like, my emergency contact, so... What's your name again??” Hopefully, their sheepish flush isn't misinterpreted as a blush. It was an accident! They are going to tell you once you come back and/or rescue them.

S: “I’ll pass, but thanks.” Polite, nonchalance helps to soften S's rejection, although any persistence/insistence from their admirer will cause S's sharp wit to leave a mark. They will likely try to create some distance after that answer, walking away or going back to reading, etc.

R: “483-003-21—My partner will kill you." 🥴 No hesitation with shutting the person down with a slightly playful edge to it. Yes, they would say this even about the sweetest and shyest MC just to make it clear that they aren't available or interested. R doesn't understand how the person missed the hint from earlier, but they are willing to remind them.

J: “...I don't have a phone.” 😐 Very calm, possibly too calm, and neutral. Before the person could even ask for their number, J was starting to look for you since they lost interest while still not yet cluing into their admirer's infatuation with them. If the person insists, J leaves. They don't have time for this and would much prefer finding you again. (Also, yeah, J has a phone, only very few people know their number.)

Mal: “Now why would you want my number when your phone's broken?” The admirer might grow confused, lighting up the screen of their phone to prove a point, just in time to see Mal's polished smile turn sharper. They get the hint and back off, possibly backing away. Zero tolerance from Mal, especially since this person must have timed asking them this question given how busy our enigmatic server can be.

I hope you all have a lovely week ahead! 💚

Book One Launch Post💚 |TFS Patreon🌲

If you enjoyed your time in Fernweh, please consider reviewing/rating it. 🥰

#interactive fiction #reader interactive #romance games #fernweh saga #asks #reese verner #ruby verner #james corvin #jane corvin #silas dorran #sofia dorran #beckett warrick #becca warrick #tfs mal #the waitress #the waiter #who do queue think you are?

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epickiya722 · 4 months

Text

Some earlier parts of the manga, sometimes Sukuna just looks like Itadori with tattoos on when his hair is down.

Example!

Here, look at him! His hair down makes him look like Itadori!! Even that with that smile! Put his hair up (in the anime, his hair is pushed back before he encounters Megumi)? That is definitely Sukuna with a cheeky smile like "I'm definitely going to cause some chaos and you can't stop me".

Now before anyone thinks otherwise, I actually like it either way. With his hair down, he gives Itadori (well, duh, he's possessing his body but I meant like vibes). It's, like, even though they're two different people, they still share similarities.

They're two sides of the same coin!

It's like how in the more recent episode with Itadori.

With his hair up with a death glare to match, it's no longer Itadori. He's giving off those Sukuna vibes.

Whether the hair thing is on purpose or on accident (I mean like, let's say Gege forgot to draw Sukuna with his hair pushed back) I just think it's a nice touch regardless because it's just a slight change between them appearance wise, but it makes a big difference.

Again, two different people! But, they can still embody each other.

I know I'm probably not making sense, I'm just rambling, I didn't plan any of this, but think of how a writer writes a really good scene with some symbolism they didn’t plan before but it plays well into the story.

Just thought of something! I promise you this post didn't mean to get this long. I just got thoughts!

It's funny to me that in this scene (mentioned above), Itadori frightens Mahito to the point he feels like a helpless rabbit (don't get into your feelings about that rabbit, Kiya). Not long before this, Mahito encounters Sukuna and was even smug in his presence. (Because he wasn't going to be there long anyways.)

(Just realized that it kinda looks like Sukuna got his arm in his kimono like one who do with a hoodie... Itadori wears hoodies...)

This is just reverse of Mahito's earlier encounters with Sukuna and Itadori.

He was scared in Sukuna's presence before and yet when it came to Itadori, he tormented him and declared he'll kill him.

Now? The script had been flipped on him.

It's moments like this that just gets me thinking about the connection between Itadori and Sukuna, is all.

#they're both my favorite characters of jjk after all #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #yuuji itadori #yuji itadori #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen

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moonlight-prose · 1 year

Note

for joel 😘

“Spread your legs wider.”

“Louder. Let me hear you.”

“Say my name.”

“You can do better than that.”

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE OF LOVE

➝ A HURT INTERLUDE

a/n: chapter three really took all of my brain power, but somehow i managed to churn this small piece of just filth out. you and i have talked extensively about this interlude, which has helped a ton. so thank you for the request babes and i hope you like it! this is the first joel smut i'm ever posting so this is both exciting and nerve wracking. also i know the request is full on filth, but i threw in so much angst as well so.....hence the gif.

summary: joel's inhibitions were gone when it came to you.

word count: 2.9k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, cussing, masturbation, slight voyeurism, p in v sex, joel being horny with a capital H, fantasies.

series masterlist

Living through a world altering event would never cease to feel as if you’d died and fallen into the lands of hell. On accident no less. Enduring it as your body struggled to keep up, with a wound that remained on your side large enough to rip open at a moment’s notice, was worse. For days Joel had only allowed you to move at a slow pace. One that wouldn’t destroy the messy patching up job he was able to attempt.

You found it endearing though.

The car came in handy to move from place to place, but in the end you always came back to the house you were staying in. Joel never told you what he did with the bodies, never gave you any indication as to them being there in the first place. For that you were grateful. You weren’t sure how you could return to a house that still housed two people who tried to kill you—two people you watched Joel kill in return.

Never in your life had someone defended you so ruthlessly, risking everything to save your life, to make sure you were protected. The knowledge that Joel was willing to kill to keep you out harm's way, left a warmth in your chest that continued to spread day by day. The longer you spent time with him, the more you understood what he meant to you, and possibly…what you meant to him.

Which made the time spent with him recently so maddening. With each touch, look, and word spoken, you couldn’t stop your body from reacting in a way that should have embarrassed you. All you did was kiss and yet it felt like he had reached into your chest and caressed your soul. As if with that one simple action, he laid claim to what was already his. Your heart raced in his presence, mind becoming hazy with a lust you’d never experienced before with another person.

You couldn’t focus. Not with your imagination conjuring up images of him above you, thoughts of what he might feel like inside of you now running rampant in your head.

So you did what you continued to do flawlessly. You ignored every single emotion that begged you for release. Every time he got near, you pretended that the kiss never happened. That you still remained nothing but two partners attempting to fight for survival in a world that wanted to kill you.

“I’m going to clean up a bit,” he murmured, nodding his head towards the bathroom that used to work.

The both of you got lucky earlier in the week, finding a river that had relatively fresh water. You made the suggestion of filling up the empty gallons of gasoline tanks that Joel had found in the house’s garage, and he agreed. The people who used to live there must have bought them in case of an emergency, except when it finally came time to use them, they never got to. Thankfully the trip took less time with the car, and even if he didn’t allow you to help him, you still forced him to let you drive. Walking you couldn’t do, but driving you were an expert at.

“I’ll be here,” you said, laying on the couch, propped up by your bag and wrapped in his jacket.

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t lost on you now, just like it wasn’t before. Him cleaning up as you lounged on the couch awaiting his return. It felt too real. Too much like the life you could have had beforehand, and you felt your heart break at that notion. That eventually this would come to an end. You would both have to leave towards Boston, searching for another place to settle, and then…you might never get the imagined life you desperately wanted with him.

Joel glanced at you, your legs stretched out, body covered by his jacket, and he felt the same burn from before return. This time though, he couldn’t ignore it. As much as he wanted to move past what happened the other night, the facts stayed the same. He kissed you. He wasn’t sure if it was the kiss that caused his heart to twist and body to burn each time he looked your way, or if the feelings he tried so hard to shove down, were back with a newfound strength.

He turned away quickly, heading towards the bathroom before you could see the now evident bulge in his pants. These feelings would go away eventually, giving him reprieve from the knife that dug its way into his heart. Carving at what remained until he finally admitted what he was afraid of—what he couldn’t seem to let go of.

Nearly losing you terrified him.

No matter how much he thought about what would happen when you parted ways, how many scenarios he conjured up in his head, he knew the truth that was buried in the darkest parts of his heart. He wouldn’t let you go when you got to Boston. He couldn’t. You made this otherwise shitty world shine just a bit brighter, giving him enough light to see his future clearly.

“Fuck,” he rasped, the second the door shut behind him.

His heart continued to beat rapidly in his chest, his body aching in a way he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak. Joel wasn’t entirely abstinent afterwards either, he couldn’t deny that. But those people were a means to a release that would calm him long enough to make it on his own. You however…you were the one person who could lay claim to his body, his heart, and he’d give it over willingly without question.

Through the years, Joel never gave himself to anyone, knowing that to let someone in was to kill them. Except he never let you in.

You tore through his walls, took whatever broken parts he had left, and cared for them all the same.

Maybe that’s why he was currently standing with his hands gripping onto the dirty sink, eyes shut tight and chest heaving as he fought off going back out there. He couldn’t have you, because you weren’t his to have. So he settled for his imagination.

With a grunt, he undid the button of his jeans, the tight confine too much for him to take. If he were anywhere else, he’d allow himself the small pleasure of taking his time—something that the world no longer allowed. But you were in the other room, laying on the couch—looking utterly perfect—and Joel knew that if he thought about what he was about to do for too long, he wouldn’t do it. He also knew that if he allowed the feelings to fester, he’d lose it and somehow fuck up eventually.

So, he sucked in a sharp breath, pulled himself out and bit down on his left bicep to stifle the ragged groan that tore from him. It had been quite awhile since he gave himself this, since he even bothered to find release. Usually it was quick, a few strokes to get himself there, and then he continued on about his day. Now…his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Joel was too far gone to even realize what was happening—his cock practically leaking over his palm. Squeezing his eyes shut, his hips jerked forward at the first stroke of his hand—pleasure streaking down his spine so potent he felt dizzy. What he wouldn’t give for the feel of sinking into you, of watching your face go slack with pleasure because of him. Biting back another grunt, he spread his precum down his cock, his breaths coming out in short gasps that barely gave him enough oxygen.

“Oh—shit.” His words were strangled, face tingeing red with the exertion of the quick pumps of his hand that stung slightly. If anything the pain only amplified the pleasure that continued to fill his veins.

He lurched forward, his hand almost slapping against the wall, head tilting back and exposing the expanse of his strained neck. He imagined what you would do if you were here with him. Would your hand feel soft, gentle, compared to the rough calloused skin of his palm that he’d grown used to?

Gasping, he tried his best to keep quiet, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of you hearing him. But some sick twisted part of him hoped that his groans carried, that you would finally understand what exactly you did to him. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, hand tightening slightly with just the right amount of pressure to send heat pooling rapidly into his stomach. He wanted you to be here, wanted you to whisper soft words of encouragement in his ear. Yet the circumstances of life only allowed him to live through his mind.

The image of you beneath him forming rapidly the faster his release built.

“Joel,” you sighed, head tilted back and mouth dropping open as a moan worked its way up your throat. You bit down quickly on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly in the hopes of staving off the inevitable pleasure that threatened to consume you.

His fingers gripped at your chin, dark eyes swallowing you whole as he watched you finally let loose the sound he wanted to hear. “Louder. Let me hear you,” he rasped, his other hand dropping to grip at your thigh.

“Oh—” He sank in deeper, his cock brushing a part of you that made your legs shake and eyes roll back. You couldn’t stop the cry that tore from you, your breath going with it.

“That’s it,” he murmured, head dipping to kiss at the glistening skin of your neck. “My good fucking girl.”

Your walls fluttered, slick gushing around his cock and gathering in the coarse hairs at the base of him. Normally you’d be embarrassed about how wet you were, but the shame washed away with every slow rock of his hips. How could you be ashamed when it was all for him? All because of him. Gasping, you dug your nails into his back in the hopes of dragging him closer. He was pressed up against you, hot skin against yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to sink into him, to exist for him.

He pulled back much to your disappointment, pressing his knees into the mattress and pulling you closer. “Spread your legs wider for me darlin’,” he breathed, and you followed his request without question.

His thumb connected with your clit sending a jolt through your body that nearly had your back bowing off the bed. Joel overwhelmed you. He took and took, but gave just as much back—if not more. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name, nails scraping along his shoulder blades when he shifted the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock striking against something eviscerating inside of you.

“Fuck, Joel!” Hot tears streamed down the sides of your temple, falling into your hair.

He felt it, the tight clamp of your cunt that nearly sent him over the edge earlier than he wanted. Grunting, he tried to stop the tightening that began in his stomach, but it was too much. His mind was hazy with pleasure, thoughts of you consuming him until nothing was left. If he wasn’t careful, Joel would lose himself to you—you and all your beautiful demons.

Yanking your leg up higher on his waist, he doubled his efforts. Driving his cock into you until you grew more incoherent with each thrust. His name was a prayer on your lips and Joel wanted to hear it louder; he wanted to drown in your reverence until all the bad washed out of his veins. Falling forward, his hand dug into the sheets beneath you, eyebrows pulling tight as you chased the growing release that would shatter you.

“Say my name,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. “C’mon baby say it for me.”

“J-Joel,” you gasped, hips rolling to meet his thrusts the best you could, but he practically had you pinned to the bed. Each shove of his cock into your wet dripping cunt, nearly sent you higher up on the bed.

His lips pulled up into a smirk, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “You can do better than that.” His hand dropped down to your clit, thumb circling it with enough pressure to cut off the words that sat on the tip of your tongue.

He felt it before he could stop it. His balls drew up until it was almost painful, eyes screwing shut as he panted into your open mouth. Pressing down further on your clit, he managed to wrench his eyes open to see your roll back in your head. You sobbed his name, your back arching—chest pressing into his—as your cunt clamped down on his cock and took everything he had left to give.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moan was raspy and broken, and a soft breathy echo of your name slipped free.

Joel curled in on himself, his mouth dropping open in a breathless grunt as he spilled over his hand and into the sink. Still, he kept going. Pumping his hand in quick strokes, he did what he could to prolong the pleasure that filled his body, until eventually it gave way to pain. Sucking in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth, he finally let go of himself, running his thumb along the head of his cock and pushing what remained out.

He opened his eyes, the image of you disappearing from his mind as he was met with the cold emptiness of the bathroom.

Even though his body hummed with bliss, a calm finally returning to his veins, he felt the shame twist in his gut. He shouldn’t have allowed it to get that far. Shouldn’t have given into his depravity, but the thought of it one day coming true was too enticing to forgo.

He sighed, grabbing the shirt he meant to clean tonight and fixed up the mess that took another part of his soul.

What he didn’t know was that you heard the echo of his hand hitting the wall, heard his pained grunt as he came over his hand. Originally you thought he was hurt, that he might need your help. So you got up, stifled the scream of pain that your body let out, and managed to get to the bathroom door. Until you heard it. The soft moan of your name that had you freezing in your spot, eyes going wide and heart hammering in your chest.

Joel wasn’t in pain. Far from it.

You knew you should have given him privacy, walked away and pretended like nothing happened, but it was your name you heard. The same raging fire that you fought against for weeks finally broke free, spreading its way down your body. Consuming you whole. Your hands were clenched at your sides, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He wanted you. Joel—the man you refused to be attracted to, lest it get in the way of your trip—wanted you the same way you longed for him.

Before you could move back to the couch, the door swung open to reveal that very man. Joel’s face went slack with shock as he caught you standing there, his hand gripping onto the door handle so tight that his knuckles turned white. Any words he could have said died in his throat at the sight of your wide eyes and parted lips. The very same lips he had kissed not too long ago. His spent cock twitched in his pants, the flush of heat once again going through his body.

He wondered if you heard him and felt the guilt crush his heart. “Boston?” he asked, breaking the silence.

That seemed to shake you from your shocked state. “I um…” You couldn’t stop the way your eyes dropped to his lips for a brief moment. “Just wanted to know if I could get in there. To clean up and…such.”

In all honesty you wanted him to touch you, wanted to know what he sounded like as he finally gave into the heady pleasure that coursed through both of your veins. But you saw the hesitancy in his eyes. You knew he was retreating from something he wanted, because of the fear that nearly losing you already caused him. Joel understood that when it came to you, if he finally gave into that feeling of want, he’d never be able to give it up.

“Go ahead,” he said softly, shifting to move past you, his hand brushing yours for a brief second.

You wanted to reach for him, to tell him that everything he probably felt…you felt too. Except the grief you watched him go through that night still weighed on your shoulders. He nearly lost you and you knew that if he hadn’t managed to save you in the end, the Joel you knew would have been gone forever. So you entered the bathroom, shut the door, and wiped away the stray tear that fell down your cheek.

It didn’t matter how much either of you were desperate for the other's touch. The truth still stared you in the face. No matter how much you longed for the pleasure, for him to finally fill that empty spot in your heart, it would never outweigh the pain you would feel if you lost him for good.

That alone was enough for you to shut your emotions away, reminding yourself that you were not here to fall in love.

You were here to survive.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #hurt #my writing

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

Just some ramblings about I'm on Fire below the cut

Finishing up this series has me on a little journey down memory lane

Sometimes I think about the earlier chapters when I mentioned biker Eddie putting a second condom on, and a reader thought he was wearing them both at the same time, so they got unhinged in the comments telling me that's not how it's done 🥹

I also think it's funny that the only real "hate" I've ever received here in this fandom (not even hate really, more negative feedback) had to do with biker Eddie having sex with other women besides reader before they were together. Yet, my most popular fic to date was about Eddie being a literal escort/gigolo lmaoo.

Only that small handful of readers who found the first chapter the day I posted it back in early April will know that there was a very graphic, filthy sex scene between Eddie and someone other than reader, but I edited it out the next day. Even though I tagged properly for it, I wasn't really following the "rules" for reader insert fanfiction. When I tell you I had no idea what I was doing, I mean it 😅

A cutting room floor bit for this series is that, in my initial headcanon for biker Eddie, he had two fingers missing on his left hand (ring & pinky) from an accident where a car fell from the lift at the garage. He lived the authentic biker life with sex, drugs, rock n' roll on the regular. Not so much drugs, though, because he still had to run a business, but partying and debauchery went on around him constantly. He was also in a motorcycle accident that tore off part of his ear and left a scar on his cheek and his eye a bit droopy.

But, in the end, I didn't want to put him through all that. Plus, it's hard for me to write Eddie without making him the soft, yet complicated, sweetheart that he is. Also, I felt like the plans I had to show "real" biker life might've scared too many people off or made them uncomfortable.

Biker Steve was never meant to be more than a passing character, someone only briefly mentioned now and then. My god, could you imagine this story without biker Steve?? Sometimes I forget that he had sex with Katie 🫡 If I ever rewrite this, he will be a much bigger part from the beginning, as will his life with Robin and Oliver.

This is all so random, but I love you all for reading and caring and asking questions about the boys. Building this world with you has been such a blast.

#I'm on Fire #bts

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havecourage-darling · 2 years

Text

Right to the bone

prompt: “you’re still my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital”

pairing: Eddie Munson x Adopter! Hopper Female Reader

wc: 13K (I don't know what happened.)

warnings: cursing, canon hopper temporary death, grief, lovers to exes to ???, hurt/comfort kinda, non canon compliant, post-s4V2, our boy lives

PART TWO

Masterlist || AO3

Something was pulling at you from the blissful sleep you’d fallen into a few hours ago. Opening and eye, you groaned and fumbled for the phone. Whoever was calling better be dying or in dire need of your help or you were going snap their necks.

“Hello?” You answered groggily.

“Hi! I’m calling from Hawkins Hospital – is this Ms. Hopper?”

What? Hawkins? “Yes, that’s me.”

“You were listed as the emergency contact for Edward Munson?”

At that, you blinked. Were you dreaming? You thought back to your earlier words and winced. You hadn’t meant that literally.

“Miss?”

“Yes,” you croaked, clearing your throat, “I-I’m sorry. Was he in an accident?”

The hesitation on the other end of the phone made your stomach churn. “He was brought in a few hours ago. After the earthquake we are doing the best we can, but-”

“Earthquake?” You shot up, blanket falling to your waist.

“Yes? There was an earthquake last night. I apologize for the hour.”

Swallowing, you clenched the blanket to your chest. “Is he – is he…” You couldn’t say the words. They were stuck in your dry throat, impossible.

“He’s alive,” she said.

The air in your lungs swooped out, leaving you feeling like a deflated balloon.

“But,” the voice started.

But? But what?

“It’s urgent you make your way here. We are unable to locate his next of kin. Would that be you?”

“No, uh, he lives with his Uncle Wayne. I’m in Wisconsin,” you said, realizing.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “If you would like to come see him, I recommend you try and get here as quick as possible.”

“Is he – please, is he critical?”

“You can speak with a doctor when you arrive.”

Shit.

“I’ll be there,” you promised, already hopping off your bed. “It’ll take me a few hours but I’ll be there. Don’t, please – don’t let anything happen to him.”

“We’ll try our best,” she said before clicking off.

Earthquake? You glanced at your closet and frowned. The walkie sat, unused and collecting dust, at the back of your wardrobe. You had made everyone promise, after your father was killed – you wanted nothing to do with Hawkins and its ability to kill all the good people in it. Every single nerve in your body missed them – because of course you had but, it hurt to be in that town. It hurt to remember.

“Fuck me,” you hissed, hastily packing your bag and grabbing the walkie on the way to your car. Glancing at your watch, you realized how late it was. If you were lucky and there was no traffic, you’d be able to make it to Hawkins by sunrise.

When you stopped for gas just outside the city, you called your sister. If something had happened in Hawkins you were sure it wasn’t something as easy as a natural disaster. You’d spoken to El a few days ago, she was excited to have Mike visit for spring break. She’d been sad when you told her you couldn’t afford to visit – your job having denied your vacation request – but you’d save to be able to visit in the summer. California sounded like it was going well for her.

“The number you have reached is not in service,” the operator notified you. The invisible hand inside your stomach reached up and clamped onto your throat. Squeezing, once again, until you felt you could no longer breathe.

The yellow, flickering, lamp above you gave out – leaving you in darkness. Slamming the phone down, you quickly made your way back to your car. You’d learned long ago to be afraid of faulty lights and the creatures that awaited in the dark.

With hesitance, you glanced over at the walkie from where it laid in the passenger seat. It was charged, because while you wanted to forget – you weren’t stupid. Your father had taught you better than that.

For the first time, in almost a year, you turn it on. Your finger turns the dials onto the right channels and you press the worn button down. “Dustin, do you copy?”

There static silence was oppressive. It filled your car with a sense of dread and the shattered pieces of your heart slammed against your ribcage.

“Henderson! Do you copy?” You tried a second time, voice louder and desperate even to your ears.

Fuck. You dropped your forehead to your steering wheel and dropped the walkie back onto the seat.

Take a deep breath sweetheart, your dad’s voice swam through your head, ever your conscience. You can do anything you want to. Just take a deep breath, count to ten, and let go.

“Okay,” you told the ghost in your head, “okay, dad.”

Turning the key in the ignition, you felt it come alive under your hands. Fear swirling in your stomach, and apprehension in your shoulders, you took a deep breath. You closed your eyes and counted to ten.

Your car hadn’t originally been yours. Or it would’ve been had your dad lived long enough to fix it up for you. It had been his father’s – your grandfather’s. It sat in a garage, hidden away from your wandering eyes, while he tried to fix it up to give it to you as a graduation gift. Jonathan had helped you finish what he started; he hadn’t had much left to go.

It was an older car, that needed constant checking in on, and with enough miles to seem faintly worrisome but it was yours. It was the only thing that had seen you through your grief the days after Starcourt. El had managed to take a ride in it that summer before leaving for California – you’d both cried the entire time.

You weren’t sure if the car smelled like cigarettes or you desperately wanted them to. There was a carton in the glove box, familiar ones that you lit up on occasion so the scent could sink into your clothes. The memories of him laughing in his cruiser swirled around you like smoke, something you could see but weren’t allowed to touch.

The dark sky started to lighten the closer you got. By hour three, the sun was peeking at you from the horizon. It seemed that, it too, was surprised to see you make your way back to the one place you vowed to never return. By the time you were a few miles out, the hand inside you tightened its hold on you.

It’s just a town. It couldn’t hurt you.

Welcome to Hawkins!

The sign flashed as you passed it, the yellow font mocking almost. As if testing you, the first memory clawed its way up to the front of your mind.

“Watch over your sister, okay? Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid,” your dad said, his mustache tickling your skin when he kissed your forehead. “I love you kid.”

“More than the moon?” You asked, fear rolling off you like waves.

Your dad smiled, his tired eyes and Hawaiian print shirt making you smile back. “More than the stars, the moon, and the universe combined.”

“See you soon?” You asked, desperately needing to hear him say the words.

With a last tight hug, he nodded into your head. “See you soon.”

You tightened your grip on the wheel and clenched your teeth. One, two, three, four… at ten you heaved another deep breath and felt the hand loosen its death grip.

As you hit the center of town, you saw signs of its inhabitants awaking. Another, equally familiar, vine snuck up on you. Driving past a familiar diner, you felt the second physical blow.

“I’ll love you forever, you know?” Eddie said, eyes twinkling like they knew something you didn’t.

“Forever?” You asked. “That’s a long time.”

“Not enough, Hop’, not nearly long enough,” he said, eyes darting down to your lips.

You smiled, flustered, as he trailed a hand down your arm. “I love you too,” you said quietly, like it was a secret you wanted to keep safe.

Eddie’s answering smile was blinding. It reminded you of a sunrise, the sunbeams chasing away the darkness out of every corner, a protection almost. A safe haven that came in the form of Metallica, electric guitars, silver rings, and a gentle patience that you’d never seen before.

“Yeah?” He asked, bravado dropping for once.

Watching him reach for your fingers slowly, you let him intertwine them. He felt like a comfort you’d never known before and he tasted like pancakes and maple syrup. You’d love him forever too.

“Deep breaths,” you reminded yourself, “deep breaths.”

You could see some mild damage to some of the houses the closer east you got. Turning left at the supermarket, you stopped at the sight of road blocks. Pulling over to the left, you stood from your car and gasped. The ground a few yards in front of you was cracked, as if caught mid-yawn, and the trees were all uprooted. It went on as far as you could see, tinged in the warm light of the awakening sun.

“I told you people, no reporters! We’re still double checking that everything is safe, don’t your kind understand that?” An authoritative voice boomed.

Whirling around, your hair got caught in the warm breeze, sticking to your cheeks.

“Powell?” You breathed; your voice rusty from your worried silence on the drive over. Clearing your throat, you watched as the man you’d known growing up in this town walked over and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Thank God,” he whispered. “You’re alright.”

“What…what happened here?” You asked him, not sure you wanted to know the answer.

Powell shook his head. “It’s been a hell of a week and it’s only Monday squirt.” The nickname hit like a blow to your solar plexus. Blinking back your tears you nodded as he described the earthquake that had hit a little over a day ago.

Murders. Earthquake. A lot of people injured. Only a handful of casualties. “It could’ve been worse, we’re glad it didn’t take too many houses in its path of destruction. Mostly old warehouses and it’s got a crater in the middle of Lover’s Lake that’s going to be a pain in my ass today.”

Your quiet throughout his retelling, sure of the fact that the town would rally. You knew, though, you knew it was bigger than that.

“Where were you headed?” He asked eventually, eyeing your car.

Not sure how much of your cards to show, you motioned down the closed road. “Was taking a shortcut to the hospital.”

His eyebrows flew up. “The hospital?” He eyed you, his gaze unintrusive but observant. The same way your dad used to do it. “You’re going to see the Munson boy.”

Without answering, you took a few steps back towards your car. “It was nice to see you Powell.”

“Be careful with him,” Powell said, freezing you in your tracks, “he’s been through…a lot these past few days. I’m…I hope he makes it.”

Not sure how much more you can take; you wave a hand in the air. “Don’t…don’t tell anyone you saw me, not yet, please?” Powell smiled sadly but you knew he understood. If anything, he might have understood the best out of everyone.

“Anything for you, Hopper,” he said, your last name sounding a little unsteady in the cool morning air. “Drive safe.”

“I’m here to see a patient.” You said to the receptionist, a woman you didn’t recognize. Her face was round, her eyes a soft blue. The blonde in her hair was dulled under the fluorescent lights but her smile was bright.

“Name?”

“Eddie Munson.”

She stilled, eyes darting back up to yours. “Visiting hours aren’t until this afternoon. You’re not a reporter, are you? I can have security here in two seconds.”

Wringing your hands, you gazed over her shoulder, towards the empty hall behind her. “I – I’m his emergency contact? I got a call last night – or earlier this morning? I drove all night to get here.”

Her defensive look softened at your stumbled words.

“Ms. Hopper?”

You nodded, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your knuckles. You knew how this went, family only. The rules were rules and you no longer had any pull in this town. Hiking your bag up higher on your shoulder, you made a decision. “I’m his fiancé. His next of kin is his uncle Wayne but, I drove straight here when I heard the news.”

The woman’s expression softened even further. “Okay honey, just give me some ID so I can get you a pass and sign you in so no one asks again.” As you waited for her to print out your pass, you rocked back onto your heels, a nervous habit you’d failed to break.

“The town will stop harassing him with time,” the nurse said, eyes knowing.

What?

“There are a lot of close-minded folk in this town, but ever since his name was cleared and word got around that he tried to save that girl’s life – the tide’s been turnin’ honey. Don’t worry.” She sighed, passing you your ID and visitor’s pass. “I just can’t believe that Carver boy was the root of all this. Oh, I’m just taking up your time, I’m sorry. He’s down the hall room 501 to your left.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, head swimming. Carver? Jason Carver?

Her soft voice floated over to you. “You should talk to him honey. I reckon he’d be happy to hear your voice. Press the button if you need anything.”

Nodding, you pulled your bag’s strap tighter around your fist and stood before room 501.

Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Let go.

With bravery you didn’t feel, you turned the knob and felt your legs almost give out from under you.

“Oh, Eddie,” you sighed, walking over to his bedside. The entirety of his neck and arms were bandaged, his face had bruising and scratches by his jaw. You sank into the chair that was closest to him and fought the tears that wanted to make themselves known. “Sweetheart, what’ve you gotten yourself into?”

If you’d suspected that this had something to do with the upside down before, his injuries confirmed it. You needed to call El when you got the chance – somehow, you hoped that California was far enough that she wouldn’t be affected. It felt wrong, in some way, to reach out and touch the only unbruised part of him – but you couldn’t help it. It’d been so long since you last saw him, you hated that he’d fallen into this.

Your fingers danced lightly across his cheekbone, wishing you could will his injuries away, and before you could stop yourself, you pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Ms. Hopper?” A voice called out tentatively. Whirling around, heart pounding, you relaxed minutely when you saw a tall woman in a white coat.

“Hi,” you breathed, “yes, I’m sorry you startled me.”

“My apologies,” she said, closing the door behind him. “I’m Mr. Munson’s primary doctor, can I confirm what your relationship is with the patient?”

The guilt threatened to choke you but if they hadn’t found Wayne, you couldn’t leave him here, not alone. “I’m his fiancé. The hospital called me because he had me listed as his emergency contact.”

She nodded, satisfied, and pulled out a chart from under her arm. “Well, Ms. Hopper, Eddie was very, very lucky to have been brought in when he was.”

Your chest tightened. The doctor went through all of his injuries, deep lacerations, bruising, a concussion, and a broken ankle.

“It says here that he was brought in by a-” she flipped through the folder, “-Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler?”

The last, delusional, pieces of hope that were clinging to the hope that this was just a normal injury, disappeared. “Yeah, they’re our friends.”

“They say he was hurt in the earthquake,” the doctor was clearly skeptical about that explanation but you weren’t surprised. You knew a cover up when you saw one.

“When will he wake up?” You asked instead.

With a frown, she turned to Eddie. “We gave him a lot of pain medication post-surgery, so it’s really up to him. It’s been twenty-four hours and he should wake up anytime now. The process can be gradual so please do not become alarmed if you see movement from him before falling back asleep. It’s completely normal. I’ll be here for the night, should you need me or have any questions please let one of the nurses know.”

A beat later, you nodded, and she sighed. Leaving without another word, you slumped back into the chair and pinched the bridge of your nose. “What the hell happened?” You asked Eddie, not expecting an answer. “The gate was closed, we killed it, El – everyone, we lost so much to make sure it was gone. What happened?”

Moving your backpack to the floor, you reached for Eddie’s hand and brought it up to your cheek. His pulse pounded steadily, the machines confirming to you that he was alive and breathing, and you started to cry.

It wasn’t fair. How much more did this town need to take from you before there was nothing left? You dropped your head to the bed, tears dropping to the white, scratchy, fabric, and you closed your eyes.

He was okay. Eddie might not love you anymore, he might not want you by his side, but he was alive and that was enough for you. You needed to try and find someone, Wayne or Steve – you had to find out what had happened. Maybe one of the nurses had a phone book you could look through.

With a jaw cracking yawn, you let the warmth of Eddie’s hand and the steady beeping of the machines, poke at your exhaustion until you were lulled to sleep.

Blinking your eyes open, you smacked your lips – throat dry. Stretching as you sat up, you felt your spine crack satisfyingly as you readjusted. The sun was higher up in the sky and the clock let you know you’d slept for less than an hour but you felt refreshed.

“Good morning, Firecracker,” a hoarse voice said, the hand in yours twitching.

Startled beyond all measure, you squeaked, standing and wincing at the screeching sound the chair made.

“Eddie?” You stammered. “Eddie, do you remember what happened to you?”

His bruised face twisted into something confused. “Not really. I woke up a few minutes ago and you were sleeping here. Why are we in the hospital?”

You opened your mouth but your voice got stuck in your throat. What had happened? Why was he looking at you like that?

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly, “the doctor says you got here just in time. I know you said you didn’t want to see me again-”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he tried to shift but groaned. “What are you talking about? Were we in a car crash?” His eyes took you in. “You look okay. How’s my car?”

What?

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

Blinking.

“What’s…the last thing you remember?”

Eddie frowned, his eyes becoming unfocused and then he shot you a stupidly ridiculous smile that had no right to make your stomach flutter the way it did. “I was showing you the song I wrote…we were in my room, rushing to get you home before curfew,” he wiggled his brows, despite his confusion, and your heart dropped to your feet, “that was your fault.”

Forgetting yourself for a moment, you realized you knew what he was talking about. Your throat closed, folding in on itself. That had been…more than a year ago, in the winter of your senior year.

You grinned as Eddie put down his guitar and turned to look at you, eyes nervous. “So? What do you think?”

Pretending to think it over, you laughed and launched yourself at him. Eddie caught you, because he always did, and fell back onto his bed. His puff of laughter fanned over your skin, his eyes lighting up. “That bad huh?”

“It’s amazing!” You said, straddling him. “It sounds great, are you going to play it at the Hideout?”

Eddie nodded. “We’re not suppose to play original music but Gareth thinks we should just go for it.”

“Definitely,” you said, “I’m going to ask Steve for his video recorder. It’ll be the first time Corroded Coffin performs to a live audience their original music.”

“To about ten people and my girlfriend,” he said, rolling his eyes, but expression pleased. You knew he was nervous and didn’t want to let anyone know but you knew him too well to fool.

“Everyone starts somewhere,” you insisted, “you’re good, Eddie. I know this is just the beginning for you guys.”

His eyes softened, and your heart skipped. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, “so much, you have no idea,”

“Yeah?”

You loved how no matter how many times you said it, it always made him light up. “Yeah, Munson.”

“God, you’re amazing,” Eddie flipped you both so he was hovering above you.

Laughing, you wiggled beneath him, grinning when you hear him groan. “Careful there, Munson, I might get an ego.”

“Shit, and it already almost doesn’t fit into this trailer, can’t have it getting bigger,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. “You’ve got curfew in an hour.”

“Mhmm,” you sighed, pulling his hips down sharply to yours. Both of you hissed at the sudden pressure, your hand already fumbling with your waistband.

“Sweetheart, your father already hates me,” Eddie reminded you, not stopping you from yanking his shirt off.

You laughed at his interested expression. “It’s been three years, you’re growing on him,” you said, knowing it was partially true.

“I’m sure,” he grunted as you flung your shirt off. His mouth immediately fell to the swell of your breast, lapping at the fading bruise he’d left behind this morning. “Do you think it’s normal?”

“What?” You said, squirming, when he stilled.

“Being this in love with someone?” He asked, surprising you with his sincerity. You glanced at him but he dropped his forehead to yours, his hand on your bare hip tracing circles into your skin. “When you’re not here, you’re all I think about. When you are here – all I want to do is-”

“-get into my pants?” You asked, joking.

Eddie’s eyes flashed enticingly and you grinned. “You’re insatiable, Firecracker.”

“That’s because I can’t get enough of you,” you said, nipping at his ear and savoring in the way his hips twitched. “It’s always been you. So, no, you complete sap – you’re not alone.”

“That’s a relief,” Eddie teased, frantic hands starting again.

His hair tickled your skin as you lifted your hips to help him pull your jeans down. Laughing lightly at the sensation, you brought Eddie’s face down towards your own and shot him a look. “You know, no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re an incurable romantic.”

Eddie shot you a look. “Good, I have a reputation to upkeep, you know.”

“The town cult leader?” You asked, pretending to widen your eyes in fear. “Oh no, are you corrupting me?”

At that, Eddie cackled. “Sweetheart, if anyone’s corrupting here – it’s you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you said, kissing him again.

The memory hits you like a semi-truck and you need to sit down to gather your thoughts. Your mind raced – amnesia? Was he hit that hard in the head? Panic started clawing at you, black spots appearing at the corner of your vision, and you wrung your hands together.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, eyes on you.

You couldn’t look at him for too long, you hadn’t been apart for long enough for it to stop hurting. “Nothing, Eddie,” you rasped, breath ragged.

“Right, and you look ready to throw up because?” Eddie hissed as he shifted more towards you. “Is it because of the accident? I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse. What’s wrong with me anyway?”

His joke hit too close and you jumped to your feet. A nurse – you needed a nurse. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Finally glancing at him, you realized his eyes had a glazed look to them.

“Mhmm.”

You stumbled into the hallway, tripping over your feet as you all but collapse into the nursing station. “My e- fiancé woke up,” you said, chest heaving, “he doesn’t – his last memory – he thinks it’s a year ago.”

The nurse, looking entirely unworried, nodding calmly. “That’s common when waking up from sedation, don’t worry. Let’s go take a look at him.” As she walked you back to the room, you chewed on your thumb, mind running wild.

“Oh, looks like he fell back asleep,” the nurse said, smiling, “it’s absolutely normal, don’t fret. Oh, look at you, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

You had.

“His vitals look good, everything’s okay. Don’t worry, this is a good sign! He’s not likely to remember much when he wakes up next so don’t hold anything he says against him. It varies from person to person but, it means he’ll be awake soon. Okay?”

Nodding dumbly, you felt her squeeze your shoulder before puttering back out through the door.

“Okay, Hopper,” you inhaled, “get it together.” Grabbing the nearest phone, you dial the number you’d yet to forget and prepared yourself to hear Wayne’s voice.

“The number you have called is no longer in service.”

A chill ran down your spine. How was that possible? You dialed the number again, worried you’d gotten it wrong but the operator echoed the message. Hanging up, you frowned. If the phones were down…or if Wayne wasn’t at the trailer anymore – this couldn’t be good.

Eddie smacked his lips, eyes fluttering before sighing and falling quiet again.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here while he woke up living in memories that hurt you.

“Alright, time for the calvary,” you said to yourself. Reaching towards your backpack, your hand wrapped around the walkie. You were sure Dustin was awake at this point, someone had to be.

“Dustin, do you copy?” You try again.

There’s a few beats of silence before your walkie, for the first time in months, crackled with life.

“Hopper?” It screeched.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know,” you sighed, “it’s been a while.”

“Ten months.”

You winced at the hurt in Dustin’s voice. An apology was on the tip of your tongue when a third voice joined.

“I’m sorry, was that Hopper’s voice I heard or am I hallucinating from how early it is?” A groggy sounding Steve asked.

Rubbing your temples, you contemplated answering before sighing. “Yeah, it’s me.” The exhaustion in your voice was evident.

“Wait, are you okay?” Dustin asked, ever your worrier.

“Did someone say Hopper?” Robin croaked.

“I think so,” Nancy’s voice came next and you sighed.

The whole gang. “Yeah. I’m…at Hawkins Hospital.”

The walkie exploded into a flurry of voices and you lowered the volume considerably.

“There was a mix up, I’m still Eddie’s emergency contact and they called me. Once I heard about the earthquakes, I suspected something was happening. Does anyone want to fill me in?”

“It’s too much to do over the walkies,” Dustin sighed.

“Don’t move. We’re already on our way.”

The walkie went silent then, no doubt the group swapping over to a different frequency to discuss. You felt like an outsider but – that had been what you wanted. So why did it hurt so much?

Gaze dropping back down to Eddie, you notice his nails are painted – mostly chipped but pieces of black nail polish still clung to some of his fingers.

“You got everything?” He asked.

Nodding, you stayed quiet, watching the buildings get closer and closer together.

You were nervous to join in on the last year of middle school, mid-year. Your dad promised you’d like Hawkins; it was where he grew up. The tree lined streets blurred around you as you sped past them.

“Where’s mom?” You asked, hating yourself for the flash of pain that crossed his face. She’d always been the one to take you to school on the first day.

“She went to England, remember honey? With some of her old family.” You heard what he didn’t say. She left us. She didn’t want you anymore. You knew better than to ask about her.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” your dad parked in the lot and followed you as you hopped out. “I know this is hard honey, I know. I love you, okay? Nothing changes that.”

“You promise?” you asked, mortified for your need of validation.

His face shifted into something sad before solidifying into something you didn’t recognize. “No matter what anyone says, squirt, you are my daughter. You are my family. It’s you and me against the world now, okay? Hoppers stick together through everything.”

Smiling, you hurled your arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. “Alright. You want me to go in with you?”

“Oh my God no,” you hissed, “Dad please, you’re in uniform.”

Your dad laughed, his belly shaking while he pushed you towards the school. “Teenagers man. I liked you better when you were a little squirt!”

“Bye!” You said, speeding off before he could change his mind. Making sure he wasn’t following, you managed to slam into something – someone.

“Ouch,” a voice grumbled from the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeaked, hand flying down to the boy you’d trampled. “Great, it’s my first day and I’m already running people over.”

A pair of wide brown eyes shot open and you startled at their depth. “First day? You’re the new deputy’s kid?”

You groaned. “Does everyone know?”

The boy straightened, dusting off a few leaves from his pants before nodding. “When someone new drops into this shithole, everyone takes notice.”

“Great.”

At that, his serious face broke and his laugh completely transformed his face. Your palms started sweating and you didn’t know what the feeling in your stomach was. His hand came up to fix his backpack and you noticed his painted left hand.

“Are your nails painted?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

Unaffected by your question, his eyes lit up and he nodded. He held his hand out and you noticed that he had painted his nails black. “Metal right? I’m starting a band.”

“A band?” Your brows flew up as you shook his hand. You’d never known anyone your age that was in band. “What’s the name?”

“Corroded Coffin!” He grinned, looking boyish. “My best friend got a drum set for his birthday and my uncle said he’d give me some money for a guitar if I pass the year.”

“That’s so cool,” you breathed.

“It is?” He said, making you laugh.

You watched him pick at the peeling nail polish and were suddenly glad you’d almost mowed him down. “Yeah.” The bell rung, indicating you were late and you straightened. “Oh, I’m sorry – I have to go.”

“Wait!” He shouted as you jogged up the stairs. You turned around, smiling at his exaggerated moves. “I’m Eddie Munson.”

“I’m-”

“I know who you are, new girl,” Eddie said, smiling. “See you around?”

Your heart skipped. “Yeah. See you.”

The memory was abruptly pushed back into the locked cabinet it crawled out from when the door to the room slammed open. You jumped, startled at the chaos that swirled into the room.

“Oh my God!” Dustin screeched.

“Stop screaming Henderson,” Robin said, sweeping into the room and grabbing the chair next to yours. “This is a hospital.”

“Holy shit, ghosts do exist,” Steve said, frozen at the door.

You rolled your eyes. “You came to see me for Thanksgiving, doofus.” Steve and Robin had been the only ones from Hawkins that refused to let you disappear without a word. They’d driven up to help you move into your apartment near campus and surprised you in November.

“I knew you wouldn’t come back to Hawkins and we didn’t want you to spend your first holiday alone,” Steve said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Robin grinned. “Besides, you’re off to California for Christmas. We need our share of Hopper at least during one major holiday.”

“Yeah, but I never thought I’d see you here again,” Steve said, eyes darting over to Eddie then back to you.

Robin flung her arms around you. She smacked a kiss to your cheek and sighed when you squeezed her back. “I know you’re not happy to be here, but I’m happy to see you.”

Steve shoved her aside, grumbling when Robin smacked his shoulder, but pulled you into his arms anyway. “You good, Hop?”

“Yeah,” you croaked, hating the feeling of safety that their arms brought you. It was like a boat coming back to harbor. “I’m good Harrington.”

Steve stepped back, leaving a straight line to a pouting Dustin. You smiled, taking a small step forward as he shot his nose up in the air. “You didn’t just leave the town behind, you know,” Dustin said, “you left us here too.”

“I know,” you admitted, “but you understand why I did it, right?”

At that, he deflated. “Yeah.” You took advantage of the moment and slammed into him. “Oof,” he grunted, arms coming up to your back, steadying the both of you.

You’d babysat Dustin – all of them – since your first week in Hawkins. While you had a major soft spot for Will, Dustin was always one of your favorite people in the entire town. “I missed you kid,” you said quietly, horrified to feel tears building.

“I missed you too,” he said, squeezing you. His forgiveness a balm over a wound he hadn’t inflicted. Your eyes fell onto Eddie’s sleeping figure and you sighed. “Don’t leave and forget us again, okay?”

Laughing, you stepped back, wiping your eyes and shaking your head. “Dustin Henderson, I can say, without a doubt, that you’re unforgettable.”

His eyes brightened and you fell back into the seat you’d vacated. “Alright, give me the long version.”

“Well shit,” you breathed. “Have either of you been able to get ahold of El? Jonathan? Will?”

“No,” Dustin sighed. “We’ve been trying. We think they knew something was happening – or they had to go somewhere. Agent Stinson isn’t really forthcoming with information.”

That was a new name to you – Stinson. You’d briefly met Dr. Owens when he’d come to your, late, rescue at Starcourt. You didn’t like him but your dad had trusted him and clearly it was well placed if they’d managed to clear Eddie’s name.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked, a little hurt, “I would’ve come.”

Steve and Dustin glanced at each other. “We were going to but…Eddie told us not to.”

“After we told him about what was happening and we realized that people were dying – he was worried that you could be targeted,” Robin explained, “he said you’d finally made it out of here and we couldn’t be the ones to curse you.”

Of course, that overprotective idiot.

“And he’s really cleared of all the charges?”

Robin nodded, kicking her legs out. “They pinned it on Jason. I feel a little…bad but there were no other options. The official story is that Jason was jealous when he heard Chrissy was buying from Eddie. He killed her and tried to get Eddie too. Half the town thinks Eddie’s heroic for trying to save her but the other half still…you know, it’s still Hawkins.”

“Of course,” you snorted.

“I don’t know why the front nurse called you,” Steve said, scratching his cheek, “our numbers were down and Wayne’s been by. In fact, I think this is the longest he’s been away from Eddie’s side. Powell called him in to try and grab as much as he could from the trailer.”

“I saw the damage on my way here,” you said, “they’re saying it’s an earthquake?”

Dustin’s curls shook as he laughed. “That’s what they felt so, it’s what they sort of clung to. The two gates managed to crack open and burrow through the town but these guys got him in time. Eddie bought everyone enough time to finish it.”

“Is Max okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, she’s actually going home today. She’s on the first floor somewhere in pediatrics. Both her legs are broken but, she’s back to her normal self again.”

The story was overwhelming but you knew from experience that it usually always was. There was nothing normal about any of this. “Have you tried El again?” You asked, anxiety for your sister. You knew Joyce – and Jonathan – would protect her with their lives but, the radio silence was worrying you. She was all you had left.

“We’ll find them, I promise,” Dustin said, his expression growing serious. “Don’t worry.”

“So,” you exhaled, “is it over? For real this time?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, looking both exhausted and relieved all at once. “It looks like it.”

The four of you knocked on wood quickly.

“Alright,” you stood, already feeling like this room was a cage. “Take me to Max, I wanna see Red with my own two eyes.”

“We’ll stay with him,” Robin said, “you two go ahead.”

Dustin nodded, motioning for you to follow him.

The walk down the four flights of stairs was comfortable. “He still loves you, you know,” Dustin said right as you stepped out the stairway, making you stumble.

“Jesus, Dustin,” you hissed, rubbing your elbow.

He smiled sheepishly. “Ever since you left – he’s been…it’s been bad. He was doing a little better but I know him,” he shrugged, “and I’ve known you even longer.”

“Dustin,” you warned.

As usual, he disregarded you. “I love you both. Just, don’t hurt each other any more than you already have, okay?”

Affection for this rapidly growing kid swelled in your chest. “It’s complicated, Dustybuns.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Without waiting for your response, he kicked open the door to your left and laughed when Lucas shrieked. “I brought you guys something.”

“If it’s more of your stupid dnd magazines I’m going to rip the pages and shove them down your – Hopper!” Max gaped, eyes lighting up. “Holy shit, what are you doing here?”

“Eddie,” Dustin said.

Without preamble, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders. “Hey Sinclair,” you said, hugging him bag. “Heard you made the basketball team.”

“Who cares about him,” Max grumbled her eyes bright. Lucas laughed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Hi Maxine,” you said, pulling her gently into your arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m not that easy to kill,” Max shrugged, but you heard what she wasn’t saying. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m sorry you got sucked into all this again, all of you,” you sighed. Lucas reached for Max’s hand, shy expression on both their faces.

“I’m going to go visit Eddie for a minute, you okay?”

“Yeah, weirdo, I’ll be fine.” She nodded towards you. “She’s got the best punch in all Indiana.”

Snorting, you knew she was talking about the time you’d decked Billy. You had been sure he was going to kill Steve, straddling him on the floor of the Byers’ house. He almost broke your hand with his stupid jaw.

“That’s true,” you said, shaking out your hand. “I got her, Sinclair. Don’t worry.”

“So,” Max said once Lucas and Dustin had left, “why are you really here?”

“The hospital called me, said I needed to get down here because Eddie was here,” you said, honestly, “I knew, after I heard about the earthquake, that it meant something had happened.”

“We tried to keep him out of it,” Max sighed, “he’s just as stubborn as you are.”

Max’s red hair glinted in the morning sun, the strands dancing with color as she shifted while she recounted her side of the story. “You saw El?” You blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at your relief. “She helped me hide from Vecna.”

“With her powers?” You blinked, shocked. How the hell had they come back? Where was she?

Max nodded. “She disappeared before I could ask but she had them back. We’ve tried calling but-”

Lucas smacked the door open, eyes wide, and chest rising quickly. “Uh, we were in the middle of a conversation,” Max snarked, teasing.

“Eddie…he’s awake.”

You stand outside the door, where you could hear a familiar voices and laughter filter through. For a moment, a genuine moment, you consider not going in. Steve and Robin wouldn’t fault you for it – they knew you better than anyone besides Jonathan. You could find a hotel and settle for the night. You could get into your car and drive back to your empty apartment. Fingers twitching, you chewed on the corner of your mouth, trying to sort through the chaos inside you.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this now,” you said, heart in your throat. You’d been getting better…right? It’d only been a few months. “Is it because of school? Because I’m leaving?”

Eddie groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I heard you tell Steve that you didn’t think you could go.”

“What?” You stammered, lowering yourself onto the edge of his bed.

“You said, I can’t leave Eddie behind – I’m thinking of transferring over to Hawkins community college. You can’t do that. Not for me. Your dad would roll in his grave if he knew you were throwing out a full ride to one of the best schools in the state for someone like me.”

Enraged, you stood and waved a hand. “That’s my decision! You can’t just decide what’s best for me!”

“You said it yourself,” Eddie shouted back, “this town is poisonous. It’s cursed and it’ll keep hacking away at you if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

“I can’t believe you.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose and you watched him pace. “There’s nothing left for you here. You’ve been walking around these past three months like a zombie. I know – I know that grief is overwhelming but this town, this fucking place won’t let you go. Every time I see you doing better, it finds a way to knock you back down. I…I can’t be the reason why you sink. I won’t.”

“So, what you’re breaking up with me?”

Pain flashed across his expression and you felt your heart break. “Yes.”

“Are you serious?” You asked, almost a whisper. “Eddie, are you serious right now?”

“It’s for your own good.”

Pride and panic flared through you. “I’m not going to beg you not to leave me. I won’t do it if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“How could you even – no, Hopper, that’s not what I’m waiting for. I love you.”

You sneered. “Well, it sure doesn’t sound like it.”

“You have to understand, on some level I know you do.”

Gritting your teeth, you looked out Eddie’s window and at your new car. Jonathan had finally finished its last finishing touches and you’d been so excited to come show Eddie.

“Hopper?”

Closing your eyes, you saw your dad in his cruiser. You saw Barb in her nightdress as you and Nancy braided each other’s hair. Joyce with Bob, dressed for Halloween. El, her leg broken, and her chest heaving with sobs as you watched the mall erupt in flames. Will, as he screamed in pain. Billy, with his last act of defiance.

He was right. This town was haunted and that’s why you’d told Joyce it was okay to take El with her to California. You’d wanted her out of here, safe. You knew, in his own way, that’s what Eddie wanted for you.

“Would you come with me?” You asked, hating how small you sounded.

Eddie’s sad smile told you everything you needed to know. “I can’t leave Wayne. I’m not done with school – if I’ll ever be. I’d just be dead weight to you.”

That was bullshit. He’d get a job at a shop in a heartbeat, and you knew that. He’d like your campus, small as it was. He was scared – and being hypocritical.

“Wayne would be fine with it. He’s always known we’d end up together anyway,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re just scared. You don’t want to take the risk of leaving the only place you know. Even if it’s for me.”

“That’s not true, don’t put words in my mouth.”

You threw up your hands. “That’s what you’re doing with me!”

“That’s different! I want what’s best for you!”

“And what if that’s you? What if I don’t know how to be happy without you?”

Eddie’s face twisted. “You’ll learn. You’ll move on.”

“Wow,” you said, swiping angrily at the tears on your face. “You’d rather stay here, the place you want me to leave, than come with me. You’d pick Hawkins over me?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said, sounding unsure. “I’m – you’ll understand eventually.”

And that was it. Your best friend, the person you thought you’d share the rest of your life with and the last person you had a tether to, just placed you out onto the street like you weren’t worth anything.

“Okay.”

Eddie reached for you and you snapped your arm out of his reach. Hurt flittered across his eyes but you didn’t care. Not anymore. The numbness that hid in the corners of your mind, waiting for your moments of weakness, slithered out and controlled the rest of you. El, your dad, Eddie, your friends…it didn’t hurt. It couldn’t hurt. You wouldn’t survive it. Not now.

“Hopper…” Eddie’s expression twisted.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, blinking at him. Grabbing your bag and your sweatshirt, you made your way out the trailer.

“Sweetheart, please,” Eddie’s voice sounded panicked, his body close behind you.

Throwing your bag into the passenger’s seat, you rounded towards the other side of the car and froze when his hand caught your door.

“That’s it? You’re not – going to say anything else?”

Why would you? Everyone always left. Why would you think Eddie was any different?

“No,” you said, wanting to hurt him, “what’s left to say? You chose this town over me. It’s officially taken everything I care about.”

“I’m not-”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes but the monster taking over you herded the emotions back. What was the point? “Let go of my door.”

“I don’t want us to leave it like this.”

“Eddie,” you snapped, “let go of my door. You wanted me to go? I’m going. Let me go.”

Wordlessly, he pulled his hand away and you slammed your door. Without a backwards glance, no matter how much you wanted to, you drove out of the trailer park and out of this hellmouth.

You closed your eyes and sighed. Once your anger had worn off and the depression had let up on it’s hold on your chest, you realized how shitty you’d been. Eddie had called you for the first three months, like clockwork. Every Friday and Sunday night. You’d ignored him until he stopped calling.

It’d been almost a year and you were only just beginning to crawl out of the hole you’d been thrown into – those first few months, had been rough. Eddie…you shouldn’t have dumped it all on him like that. He’d made mistakes but – so had you.

Stomach flipping, you took a step back, not sure if you were ready to open the can of worms that this would unleash.

The universe, as if hearing you indecision, swung the door open before you could walk away. Dustin blinked, his eyes widening, and the room behind you went silent.

“Um,” you said, clearing your throat, “I was just-”

You stumbled over your words, not able to look at anyone in the eye. The following silence was painful, enough to make you take another step back. As if anticipating your need to run, Steve stood up from the foot of Eddie’s bed.

“Alright, uh, let’s all give them a second – it’ll be awkward enough without all you making it worse,” Steve joked, herding your friends out the door and squeezing your hand as he passed.

With an awkwardness that was beyond painful, you stumbled into the room. Eddie’s eyes felt like they were branding you as they swept down your body.

“You look good,” he said, clearing his throat when it came out roughly, “better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah,” you said, sitting in the chair furthest from him. “I – uh, I’ve been seeing a therapist. She’s…basically my life raft right now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Eddie said, and you knew he meant it. You both settled into an uncomfortable silence, your stances defensive.

“I’m sorry about the girl,” you said quietly, not able to stand the quiet, “Chrissy.” You chanced a look at him and realized he had a lot more color to him than he’d had last night.

Eddie’s brows furrowed. “Me too, I just…left her there.”

Instinct had you reaching for his hand to comfort him but at the last minute you snatched yours back to your chest. Eddie huffed; eyes amused. “You didn’t – you didn’t know about any of this. Anyone would’ve run,” you said, lamely.

“Not you,” he said with a certainty that had you reeling. “You would’ve stayed. You always did.”

Until you didn’t.

“I don’t really remember her,” you said quietly, the words you want to ask buried in your ribcage. “I think she’d be proud of you. I hope…everyone who’s been affected by this. Barb, Billy, Bob… I hope they’re proud of what you’ve all done. What I’ve done.”

As always, Eddie heard what you didn’t say. With another sweep of his wide brown eyes, he dug the words out of your chest and laid them out to see. “She wasn’t my girlfriend. Chrissy. She was buying.”

The words, I didn’t ask, were on the tip of your tongue. Old defensive habits rearing their ugly heads. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. “Okay.”

Eddie groaned instantly. “I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” You sighed, feeling the need to snap.

He waved a weak hand in your direction. “You act like you don’t care. Like nothing affects you.”

The accusation stung, words you’d heard before, but you bit your lip and kept silent. Glancing out the open window, you watched the moon disappear behind a flurry of clouds. He was hurt, you were too, and you knew each other too well to pretend like that wasn’t hanging above your heads.

“I don’t want to do this with you right now,” you said quietly, “you almost died.”

“Well, I’m fine now so you can go. I promise to change my contact information as soon as possible,” he said, eyes skirting away from yours.

You flinched, like he’d stuck you and nodded. Of course, what had you been expecting? He’d asked you to leave and you’d asked him to go with you. Neither of you really got what you wanted. What the hell were you still doing here? He was fine. Everyone was fine. You weren’t needed here.

“Okay,” you said, reminiscent of that afternoon. Eddie’s eyes snapped to yours, like he heard the echo too.

“Wait,” he said, voice desperate. You stopped, at the foot of his bed, and turned to him. “I have to ask.”

Your heart raced.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Four years. We were together for four years and you just kept me in the dark.” You had wondered how long it’d take him to ask you that, if he would ever. “I knew something was wrong but…something this big?”

“My dad – he didn’t want us to tell anyone. They were always going to want El back and she’s, my sister. We couldn’t let them find her. I wanted to protect you. You were the only person I could be normal with. The only one who made me feel like I was normal.”

Eddie nodded, understanding.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I trusted you more than anyone in my life – next to my dad. After Starcourt, after my dad…I almost told you. I just – I was thrown into the ocean and didn’t know which way was up. I was an orphan again and alone and El was leaving. I had choices to make. People kept asking me what to do and I didn’t know! I was lost and honestly, having to deal with the grief, with El losing her powers, with her grief, and having to explain it all to you while worrying the KGB were going to somehow know that you knew – it was too much for me at the time.”

“I understand,” he said, expression softening like he could sense your panic at just saying it out loud.

“Is that it?” You asked.

“How…how’s school?” Eddie ignored your question.

Lonely. “Fine,” you said.

“You?”

“Fine.”

Wincing, you cracked your knuckles to have something to do. The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitched, like a ghost of smile.

“What?”

Eddie motioned to your hands. “You do that when you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” you lied, not wanting to feel unnerved by his up-to-date knowledge of you. You’d changed. You weren’t the same girl who’d left last summer.

“It’s okay. I knew that this would happen – I’m someone you once knew.”

And fuck if that wasn’t one of the hardest pills to swallow.

Not wanting to let the hurt fester, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How’s Wayne?” Eddie shot you a knowing look, and an apologetic smile, but as if summoned – the man in question walked through the open door.

“I heard you’d woken up from Henderson! I don’t know why no one called me. I got here as soon as I could - sweetheart?” You almost crumpled at the sound of care in his voice.

“Hi,” you said, feeling small. You knew Eddie noticed, his eyes widening, watching as you leaned into Wayne’s surprised hug.

“What – what are you doing here?” He asked, smile wide.

You pointed to Eddie. “I, um, heard what happened.”

Wayne walked over to Eddie, as if remembering why he was here, and cupped his face. “Don’t do that to me again, kid.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wayne said, sighing. His eyes turned over to you and he smiled.

“How’s school?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to keep your eyes on Wayne. “It’s going well. The classes are hard but, it’s interesting.”

“Make any new friends?”

Eddie’s eyes burned into yours. “Yeah,” you said, thinking of your classmates and neighbors. “Yeah, I have.”

Wayne smiled, pleased, sitting onto the chair by Eddie.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying – I knew you two would find your ways back to each other,” Wayne said, sighing like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “You’ve always been the only one. Since that day in eighth grade that he came home yelling about the Jim’s girl. How nice you’d been and how you liked his black nail polish. I’ve been telling him to get his GED and make his way on up to you.”

“Wayne.”

You smiled, the memory of a thirteen-year-old Eddie with his shaved head and chubby cheeks. “I’m – we’re not,” you coughed, “this isn’t…”

Wayne frowned and sighed. Turning to look at his nephew with a sharp glare, you muffled a laugh at Eddie’s disgruntled expression. “What? It’s not – oh my God Wayne, can we talk about this later?”

“Later when she’s gone back to a different state?” Wayne asked, gruffly.

Eddie closed his eyes and you watched as his face flushed pink.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, darlin’, but what’re you doing back here then if you’re not…”

“I’m still his emergency contact,” you explained, “they called me and I drove down.” Wayne’s brows rose high on his forehead and you bit your cheek.

Feeling like you were intruding on something, you stood, despite Eddie’s sharp look. “Why don’t I give you two a few minutes? Wayne, would you want some coffee?”

His familiar warm smile kept the dark clouds over you at bay. “Thank you, sweetheart, that’d be great.”

You took your time, grabbing a handful of snacks for any visitors that would come by later in the day. After contemplating a few jello cups, you grabbed Eddie’s favorite and ignored the pang in your chest. Precariously balancing your purchases on the coffee tray, you slowly made your way back to the room. You could hear the nurse on shift puttering around inside so you sat in the chair outside the room, waiting.

“You must be excited to see your fiancé,” the nurse’s bright voice floated out into the hallway. “She was so worried, completely frazzled the poor thing. I could hear her crying when I made my rounds.”

The silence was deafening. Closing your eyes, mortification drowned you. Maybe you could just leave the food here and be back on your campus by morning.

“Ah, yes,” Eddie’s voice sounded less convincing than Dustin trying to lie. “She…she’s studying at Milwaukee School of Engineering right now. I think it must’ve been a bit too much of a surprise for her.”

“She looked like she drove through the night, poor girl,” the nurse said, the sound of her changing his IV bag echoed in the room. “You two are a lucky pair.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked.

You opened an eye and couldn’t help but lean forward, hanging onto her words. “I’ve never seen someone look more in love than that girl. I hope you don’t mind me giving my well wishes for your wedding. I know anyone who looks at you the way she does, can make it through all this mess.”

Someone coughed and you winced. Fuck this, you were going to drop off everything – say your goodbyes and leave. He clearly didn’t want you here anymore than you wanted to be back here. You closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep as the nurse walked out. After a few moments, you cracked an eye open and frowned.

“Son,” Wayne sighed.

“Don’t.”

“Enough,” Wayne’s voice was stern – something you’d never heard before. “Enough of this Edward.”

You blinked, glancing at the door left ajar. Edward? The kid in you had you cringing in sympathy. No one ever called Eddie by his full name.

“I watched you wither away when she left. I heard you crying, wasting away into someone that reminded me of your father.”

“She’s nothing like my mother,” Eddie said, surprising you with his defense. “She needed to get out of this fucking town and I wasn’t going to be what kept her back. I told her to go – she didn’t leave me behind.”

“Then why are you acting like it?”

“I-I, Wayne – I don’t-”

“Why did you put her down as your emergency contact?”

The silence was poignant. Your heart jumped into your throat.

“I forgot to change it, that’s all.”

Wayne scoffed. “You don’t forget something like that, Eddie. Maybe, just maybe, the same way she dropped everything in the middle of the night to drive back to this sorry town for you – you kept her down on the off chance she’d come when you called.” A loud groan echoed. “Eddie, for God’s sake her father had just died. She had no family. And you ran her out of town. I know you love her son, but you can’t keep this up. It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about old man.”

“Kid. She answered your call, so now the ball is in your court. You gotta try. You can’t make decisions for her. Trust me. I don’t want you making my mistakes and ending up all alone and angry at the world. I let Rebecca walk out the door and I’ve missed her every day since. Is that what you want? To regret losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you blinked back your tears.

“Wayne…”

“If she’s offering you a hand to help you stand, you can’t leave her waiting. Not anymore,” he said, voice firm. “If you don’t want to take the hand then fine. Just stop being surprised when people leave after you’ve told them to.”

“Where are you going?” Eddie’s voice sounded panicked.

“I’m going home to get some sleep. You’re going to talk to her, Eddie. She’s always seen the best in you, it’s time you do the same. I’ll see you in the morning son.”

His footsteps echoed in your ears and you didn’t move when the door was pulled open. Not bothering to pretend to be asleep, you tried to hide the tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed, squatting down to your level. “I know, I know.”

Falling into his arms, you closed your eyes and let the smell of cigarettes and aftershave wash over you. It wasn’t the pair of arms you’d kill to be able to have around you one last time, but Wayne had never been anything but welcoming to you.

“Why does it hurt so bad?” You asked, voice quiet and watery. The lack of sleep, the bone deep exhaustion and fear collapsed within you like an overflowing glass. Your defenses crumbled and you buried your face into the last bit of comfort you knew. “Why does everyone I love get ripped from me? Is it me?”

“No, it’s not. You listen to me,” Wayne said, pulling away. “There is not a thing wrong with you. I know you miss your father, sweetheart, grief is a heavy thing. You can’t carry it alone.”

Wayne caught your gaze as it landed on the closed door. “My nephew has never been the first out of the gate but, I know that boy has been in love with you since that first day.”

“What if it’s not enough?” You asked, the question seared into your skin since your life began.

Love hadn’t kept your biological parents with you. Love hadn’t kept Sara alive. Love hadn’t kept your mother from leaving you both. Love hadn’t kept your father alive. Love hadn’t been enough to keep you and Eddie from crumbling. Love hadn’t done anything for you. What had it been in your life besides a source of pain?

“It’s not enough sometimes but, isn’t it worth fighting for?” His stubble scratched your forehead as he kissed your temple. “I’m at a hotel downtown if you need me, okay? Don’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”

Guilt shot through you but you knew he hadn’t meant it unkindly.

“Thank you,” you said, squeezing his hand once more before letting him disappear through the elevator doors.

Feeling too warm, you pulled your school sweatshirt off, the cool air feeling a little calming on your clammy skin. Taking a few deep breaths, you glanced down at the food on the chair and nodded to yourself. It was late, you needed to sleep, and you knew that Steve was likely only barely holding Dustin back from coming to find you.

“Hey,” Eddie said, looking startled when you walked in. His eyes hovered around your neck and a blank expression took over his face.

“Um, Wayne just left and didn’t take his coffee so – I’m going to leave all this here, okay?”

Eddie blinked. “Uh, yeah, yes.”

“Since, you’re – you know, okay – I’m going to…get going,” you said quietly.

Shooting up, Eddie groaned when it all but tugged out the IV from his arm.

“Eddie!” You jumped, startled. Reaching his left arm in seconds, you checked on the tape – your fingers dancing over the bandage. “I don’t think you pulled it out, you just moved it a little.”

Looking up from his arm, you realized you’d gotten a lot closer than you’d meant to. Dropping his arm suddenly, he winced at his wrist collided with the bed barrier.

“Sorry,” you muttered, grabbing your bag and hauling it over your shoulders. You’d only made it across the room when his voice stopped you.

“Are you coming back?”

Isn’t it worth fighting for?

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, dropping your eyes to the linoleum floor. “We’re…I don’t want to fight with you. I’m glad you’re okay, genuinely. I think, maybe, we both just need to process.”

When he didn’t answer, you brought your eyes back up to his but he wasn’t looking at you. He was staring at your neck again. Before you could ask him if you had something on you, his expression shifted into something determined.

“We’ve had almost a year to process,” Eddie said, eyes darting up to yours. They pinned you to the spot, your body unwilling to move. “I’m – I’m sorry.”

Pressure built behind your eyes and you pressed a palm to them. “Eddie,” you pleaded.

“No,” he said firmly, “I ran you off last time. I told myself I didn’t want to hold you back. You deserve better than this shithole and some boyfriend that doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life.”

“I never thought you-”

“I know,” he said, face softening into something familiar and your heart thudded painfully. “I know you didn’t.”

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, you shifted your weight and Eddie sighed.

“Look at me.”

You let your eyes trail up his body until you met his own.

He nodded, like he’d gotten an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry I was stupid enough to let you go.”

“I-”

“Let me say it, please?”

Nodding, he continued. “I’m sorry for projecting onto you when you were already going through the worst time of your life. I’m sorry for deciding for us that you needed a new start away from here, one without me in it. I’m sorry for breaking what we had.”

After months of wanting to hear those words, you didn’t know what to do now that they’d been said. “I…thank you. For saying that. I’m sorry too. I was lost – I’m still lost in my grief. It’s hard, to walk around knowing I’ll never see him again, you know? El understands but she’s so far away and I didn’t want to be another weight that dragged you down.”

“You could never,” he said, eyes flashing. “Can you come here?”

Walking over to his side, he reached for your hands and brought them up to his lips. “Sweetheart, I promised to love you forever.”

“Eddie-”

“And I meant it. It hurt me to see you stumbling through the dark, to know you’d lost something that couldn’t be replaced. Something I couldn’t help heal. I thought that school would help in ways I couldn’t. Being away from this hellhole. A new, fresh chapter. That’s all – that’s what Chief wanted for you. To follow your dreams and that school had been on your radar since we were freshman.”

“It did, it has,” you said, not wanting him to think he was wrong. “It’s cathartic to be in a place where no one knows you. Where people don’t stare at you sadly because you’re the dead chief’s daughter.”

“I’m glad,” he said, brushing his lips against your knuckles again, the gesture stirring awake something you’d long ago put to bed. The silence shifted to something comfortable and you were happy you could get there, at long last. “You’re wearing my necklace.”

Your free hand flew to your neck and you closed your eyes. “I – it was the middle of the night and I just threw on a sweater and some shoes,” you said, trying to bend the truth into an explanation that didn’t paint you in a desperate light.

“I remember once you said you were like a graveyard,” Eddie said, fingers trailing up towards the bracelet on your wrist. You knew exactly what he was talking about.

The rain outside pounded against Eddie’s window, the day looking just as miserable as you felt inside. It was mid-August and the school was expecting your response on whether or not you’d be deferring due to bereavement for a semester. You hated that word. Bereavement. It was so small compared to how big a loss you’d suffered.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Eddie said, arm curling around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

Closing your eyes, you savored the moment. The only time you felt anything was when he was wrapped around you like a shield that could keep the world out. The only few minutes where you felt normal again, not a twice again orphan.

“Good morning,” you whispered. Sometimes you wondered that if you were quiet enough – maybe the universe would stop the day from coming. The moon would stay and the dark would let you keep hiding in its embrace.

“How did you sleep?” He asked and you knew what he really meant. Was it a bad day or good day? Would you be able to get up and put on the mask of a functioning person or did you need to hide away in his room?

Tired of disappointing him, of seeing him drown in the waves of your endless grief. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. A small sunbeam shot through the dark clouds and landed on your arm. Looking down, you smiled when you saw your illuminated bracelet.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?”

“Hmm?”

The watch that you wore religiously sat at Eddie’s desk, where’d you last left it, winking at you. “I’m like a graveyard.”

At that, he sat up, hair wild and eyes clinging onto sleep still. “What?”

You motioned to your bracelet. Sara had made it for you when she was in the hospital. She promised she’d pick only the best beads, an identical match for the one she’d worn on her wrist. The one that now laid six feet beneath the dirt, buried with her. You’d never taken it off since that day.

“Sara made me this bracelet, that watch is…was my dad’s,” you said, ignoring how your voice cracked. You twisted the simple silver band on your index finger. “This was my mother’s wedding ring. She left if behind and I took it before he could throw it out.”

You sniffed, tears already falling despite your best efforts. “Eddie, I’m a graveyard of the people who didn’t stay. The one’s who left me behind.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighed, pulling you into his arms. Your tears fell silently, quickly dampening Eddie’s collar.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Sorry for being this way. Sorry for always crying. Sorry for not being able to be who I was before. I’m sorry. Glancing up at him, you knew he’d heard what you hadn’t said. His hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing gently at the last few tears.

“You never have to be sorry, sweetheart. My love for you isn’t conditional,” he whispered. He rocked you for a moment, both of you in varying states of undress, blankets tangled between you.

“How about this? We try and make some breakfast and I’ll let you pick whatever movie you want. Steve’ll bring it over and we can watch them until we can’t stay awake any longer.”

“Don’t you have rehearsal?” You asked, trying to remember what day it was.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he said, smiling. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What?”

With a quick tug, Eddie’s necklace tumbled into his palm. He leaned over your shoulder and clipped it around your neck. Your hand went up to the guitar pick dangling at the base of your throat. “Eddie, isn’t this the-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, eyes on the necklace around your neck. “It’s yours.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, confused at the sudden gesture.

He smiled, a beaming, genuine thing and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. That belongs to you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my reminder to keep going when life gets too much. It’s something alive. Things that are alive don’t go into a graveyard. So, you can’t be one.”

You shrugged, fingers playing with the familiar pick. “Did you want it back?”

“No, it’s yours,” he said, eyes on the necklace, “I’m just sorry I became something else to add to your graveyard.”

You smiled sadly, realizing that Eddie was right. It was a reminder – of what had been. Just like the others.

“I still love you,” he said, exhaling and tightening his hold on your hand. “I think I really will love you forever.”

Somehow, you both knew and were surprised at once. You were suddenly struck by a familiar wave of exhaustion and grief. It threatened to pull you under again, it sank its fingers into your legs and pulled. “I love you too, Eddie Munson,” you said quickly, afraid you’d disappear any moment. Tears stung your eyes and you closed them, not wanting them to fall.

“Why does that sound like goodbye?” He asked.

“Because it might be,” you finally admitted, to him and to yourself. Here, in this hospital room, at midnight, alone with your first love.

“Does it have to be?” His expression turned into one of desperation and it hurt you more than anything else.

Because he hurt you when he pushed you away, no matter what the reason was. Because he was someone you loved too deeply, you wouldn’t recover if he was taken from you too. Because you had both said things that cut the other. Because sometimes the history between you two made it more complicated than it had to be.

“Because sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Eddie flinched, like you’d punched him.

“Ms. Hopper?” A voice called out. You quickly wiped the tears from your face and inhaled deeply.

“Yes?”

A new nurse popped her head in. She hesitated, clearly reading the mood, and pointed to the hallway. “Did you want me to get you a fold out bed? You can stay with your fiancé if you’re staying the night.”

Smiling through the sound of your heart shattering, you shook your head. “I’ve got a few things I need to do, but thank you. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

“Of course,” she said, scuttering away.

The silence left behind made you want to bolt for your car and not look back.

“Are you going back to Wisconsin?”

You shook your head. “It’s spring break and Buckley threatened to smother me in my sleep if I didn’t spend a day with her. I’m pretty sure Dustin and Harrington will be on me if I leave too soon also.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Does it matter?”

He sighed. “Are you coming back?” He asked again.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your hands itching for his.

When he didn’t respond for a few beats, you took it as your cue to leave. Gathering up your sweater and now cold coffee, you padded towards the door – heart breaking once again.

“It’s enough.”

You froze. “What?” Turning around, you glanced at him, at your Eddie. He looked pale, bruises mottling every inch of him, and purple bags hung under his eyes. He looked like someone who’d been through hell and came out the other end.

“Our love – it’s enough,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I let you go last summer because I thought it was in your best interest but we tried that and it didn’t work. It’s not working.”

Watching his chest rise and fall, you knew he was serious. His hands fisted the thin hospital blanket over his lap, tightly enough that his knuckles whitened.

“Do you love me? Are you still in love with me?”

You closed your eyes, the ache in your chest growing. “Don’t make me say it again,” you said.

Eddie frowned. “Do. You. Love. Me.”

“Yes.” Opening your eyes, you nodded at him, feeling like your chest had been cracked open. “Yes, Eddie. More than anyone else in the world.”

At that, his face smoothed over and he nodded, almost to himself, and let go of the blanket.

“That’s it?” You said, incredulous when he didn’t continue.

He shrugged, a familiar lightness settling into him. “Yeah. You’re it for me, Hopper.”

Flustered by his candor, you wrung your hands. “I – I don’t know what to say. What does that mean?” You hated the small ember that ignited in your chest and the fact that your battered heart wanted to jump back into his hands.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said, smiling up at you, “I wasn’t sure before – I almost drove up to your campus like a million times this past year. I didn’t know if you’d want me again. Now that I know? There’s nothing that’ll stop me. Not Vecna, not demobats, not even this cast.”

The urge to grin at his declaration, at the warmth that it spread through you, was impossible. “I don’t…Eddie, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he said, the smug smile on his face nudging the ember into a flame. Teasing…he was teasing you. “It took you longer the first time round too. I can wait. I know you better than anyone else. I’m Eddie the Brave now and he needs his rogue elf back.”

There was no fighting the smile that broke out on your face. Eddie sighed at the sight of it, like he’d been waiting on it for a while now – and who knew, maybe he had. You looked at your scuffed converse and chewed on your bottom lip.

“What?” He asked. “You can tell me anything.”

Stepping up to the bed, you cradled his cheek and smiled again when you saw his startled eyes. “You have always been courageous. I’ve never hated this town for anything more than how it convinced you that you were anything but. You deserve the world, Eddie the Brave. Even if that’s not me.”

Eddie’s eyes looked suspiciously misty, and you knew it was your time to go.

“If that was your way of discouraging me, you’ve made a mistake,” Eddie cried out.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. Eddie blinked, dazed and smile wide enough to split his face in two.

“Are you coming back?” He asked, his voice unsteady and your hand on the doorknob. Glancing over your shoulder, you looked at your first love – your only love. Your heart waved at you from his palms, ecstatic to be back where it belonged, and beamed at you like the traitor it was.

Somethings were worth fighting for. “Yeah, I’ll be back,” you said, ducking out into the hallway before he could say anything else. Leaning against the cool tiles for a breather, you shook your limbs out.

Take a deep breath, count to ten, and let go.

A/N: I have an idea for a part two, but idk, what do you guys think?

A/N#2: okay I wasn't expecting this many people to like this emo fic :') but lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson

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anawrites3 · 7 days

Note

Helloo♡

I would like to know more about Jaden going back in time... like, if they're still enemies, does Slade find out about it at all?

Hi, thank you for asking!! I’m so glad so many people are taking interest in my little boy! 💕💕 I talked about this idea right here and posted a wip earlier here so go check it out if you haven’t already!

Yes, they are enemies and yes, Slade does finds out about their pup! It’s entirely on accident because no one knows who Jaden’s father is :3 I don't wanna spoil too much of how Slade will act when he learns about Jaden but have a snippet from the scene where the truth comes out!!

“Jaden, baby.” Dick began quietly, running his hand through the pup’s hair. “I need you to stay very still and very quiet now, alright?” “Mama?” Jaden whispered. Dick hummed softly in answer, “Everything’s fine, puppy, I promise. Just for a moment, yeah?” Little hands grabbed tightly at the leg of his pants and he could feel Jaden rub his cheek against his hip as the boy nodded. Slade Wilson took a few more steps before stopping in front of them. A smirk climbed onto his lips as he looked Dick over lazily and the omega had to clench his teeth to stop himself from growling when Slade’s gaze stopped on Jaden, half hidden behind his leg. “Well.” Slade drawled out. “Isn’t this a sight?”

There was a quiet gasp and before Dick was able to move, Jaden let go of his leg and threw himself forward. Dick wasn’t able to breathe, even as a string of curses formulated in his thought and he tried to grab his pup but Jaden was too fast. The pup slammed into Deathstroke’s leg with a smile. Slade looked down at him calmly and merely raised an eyebrow when Jaden wrapped his arm around his thigh. “I’m not supposed to talk right now.” Jaden informed Slade in a whisper, cupping a hand to his mouth to let the man hear him better. “Jaden!” Dick cried out, rushing over to them. He wasn’t sure what he’d do but he knew one thing – he will tear Slade’s throat out if he hurts his pup. Dimension travel or not, Dick wasn’t going to let anyone hurt his baby and if Slade was stupid enough to try- “Oh?” Slade allowed, cupping the back of Jaden’s head. Dick stopped. Slade glanced up at him with a smile, no doubt taking pleasure in seeing him so helpless, before returning his full attention to the pup. “Yeah, mama said to be quiet!” Jaden nodded seriously. “And I thought it’d be someone scary but it’s you and-” “Mama?” Slade echoed. The smirk on his lips flattened and when he looked again at Dick there was something in his gaze that Dick wasn’t able to name. “Now, that’s a surprise.” “Jaden.” Dick stressed out, a plea. “Come here, baby. Please.” “But it’s dad!” Jaden smiled at Dick over his shoulder, happy and big. Slade froze. Dick wasn’t sure if he was still breathing but too be honest he was too busy trying to get some air himself because he- he couldn’t hear that right. If Slade was Jaden’s father, then… then it meant that... that- “Jaden.” Dick said again because it was the only word he was able to force out of his clenched throat now. “It’s okay, mama!” The boy assured him before turning back towards Slade and whispering to him again. “I think mama is mad at you about something.” Slade didn’t reply. He kept looking at the pup as if it was the first time he saw him before he crunched down. His hand was still curled gently over the back of Jaden’s head. “I think so too.” He hummed after a moment, running his fingers through the black strands.

Ask me about my wips!

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 2 years

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Spiraling (Sherlock Holmes)

Hi, this is just a thought I've concocted. I honestly dont know what it is. I dont know if anybody will enjoy it, i hope they do but i already expect disappointment. Pardon my writing as i am still new to this. there was still a bit left after this but i didnt know how to run through it so just posted this but maybe ill finish that one once ive thought it through

Summary: After an accident during a case, a hostage situation leaves you in a coma for a week. During that week in the hospital, things are going horribly in Baker Street

‘Ohh Sherlock darling that’s beautiful, though I haven’t heard it before. Dare I ask who wrote that’ I asked Sherlock as he played the unfamiliar song. It was odd that I was unfamiliar with the beautiful tune as Sherlock has played plenty and more melodies than I can count, all of which I was familiar with, however that was new. I knew that he likes to compose as it helps him think but this was different, so I assumed was he’s playing another great’s piece. His melodies were always a bit solemn, deep and intense but this was lively, light and dare I say romantic.

‘Me’ he said flatly as he continued to play. Shocked as I was, I remained quiet as he carried on fiddling with his violin. Apparently, the shock was evident in my face as a smirked crossed his. I shrugged it off and listened until he finished the number. He was focused on the violin when he started to play but now his gaze was held on me. I gave him a soft smile which caused his features to soften into a smile of its own.

After a little while he finished and set the instrument on his chair, eyes still fixed on me. The grin I’ve plastered on grew wider as he walks over to me, hand in offering. I accepted and rose from my seat as he led the way to an open area. He moved to face me, a hand that belonged to him crept up to my waist and the hand he held in his was raised. Confused of his actions, I went along with it and raised my free arm to his shoulder, having an inkling where this was going. Guessing correctly, we moved around the living area, dancing as much we could in the small, confined space. Having known the dance as the same one done at John’s wedding; I was pleased to not have forgotten the steps.

As we continued waltzing, I asked ‘what has you all cheery?’

‘What has you so inquisitive’ he countered

‘Fair enough, though what had transpired to get you to write such a beautiful melody’

‘Nothing just got bored, so I composed. I was just very fortunate enough to have a great model and inspiration.’ He smiled as I beamed at the realization of what he meant. I was sat all day reading -a rather fascinating book might I add- on John’s chair as the boys finished up on a case. He’d come in around just after noon, bored of having been done with the previous case and not being on one currently. I greeted him when he walked in and went to the kitchen to fix up some tea. When I returned, giving one of the two mugs to him -a kiss on the head as a thank you-, I returned to finishing my book.

We continued dancing around the flat for a little while, nothing but the silent music and the rustling of our feet was heard. I laid my head on his shoulder at some point, happy and content of where I was and what I was doing. His voice broke the silence as we went for one last round.

‘Darling, can you do me a favour?’ he asked, voice a bit changed from the one he used earlier but I thought nothing of it.

‘Sure love, what is it?’

‘Wake up. Don’t leave me. Please come back to me’ His voice was now pleading and serious.

I raised my head as I said ‘What are you talking about, I’m right…’ I paused as his body and hold were loosening and disappearing ‘…here’ I continued with my sentence as I raised my hands to hold Sherlocks face. Everything had started to disappear in black. The flat and slowly his body.

‘Please come back, I can’t lose you, I need you please’ were his final words as he disappeared, slipping through my fingers, into the darkness. Nothing but a spotlight overhead of me. I put down my hands from where they were clutching on to his face, looking around into nothing but darkness.

…

‘Ey, how’s she doing?’ Greg asked John as he walked into the hospital room. It was quiet, nothing but the steady beeping of the heart monitor, breathing of the people in the room and the rain pattering on the window. John was sat at the chair at the end of the bed where you laid, nearly dozing off but was aroused by Lestrade breaking the silence of the room. Mycroft, unnoticed yet by the DI was stood at the dark corner beside the door. He was staring at your unmoving body, wondering how such a fierce, smart, brave and strong woman could ever lay looking so fragile.

‘Same as yesterday’ John replied with a yawn. The lot of them have been juggling staying here with you, looking after Sherlock and taking care of Rosie. John and Molly’s focus were taking care of Rosie, while Mrs. Hudson looked after Sherlock somewhat. She’d inform their little group of what’s been happening with him, keeping tabs of his activities and mayhem in the flat but the woman could only do so much. Greg checked up on him from time to time, more often than John and Molly but it was no use. What greeted them was a mess that was once the great Detective Sherlock Holmes. No one could get through to him but you. Even Mycroft tried, but he knew that what his brother needed, and the lack of it resulted into relapsing back to old habits.

John went straight here after Molly came to take care of Rosie. He was absolutely knackered. Rosie couldn’t sleep through the night which kept him up as well. He’s been living off of pots of coffee the past week with barely enough sleep. He’d nod off at times when it was his watch and the others would let him.

Mycroft came to check on you from time to time and occasionally kept watch of you as well. He knew that when you woke up and found him fully rested, not having bothered with helping the others, you’d have his head.

Now it seems the boys are all here at once. Greg came to relieve John of his duties to get some rest and inform him of the situation with the younger of the Holmes brothers, still unaware that the older was in the room.

‘Just got a message from Mrs. Hudson about our boy, it isn’t good.’ Greg announces, drawing Mycroft to rub his temples and John to release a sigh. Ever since the accident, Sherlock has only visited you once. The lot of em guessed he couldn’t bear to see you that way so for the past week, he’s been holed up in Baker Street.

‘Christ, what the bloody hell has he done now’ John said exasperated. He was exhausted. Before Greg could respond, another did.

‘You wouldn’t want to know’ Mycroft breathed out. Lestrade’s head snaped to the corner of the room, where the voice originated. Mycroft walked to the centre of the room, down the foot of your bed. Greg’s eyes followed, still startled by the unseen fellow.

‘What are you doing here’ he asked Holmes.

‘I could ask you the same thing’ the eldest Holmes retorted.

‘It’s my shift with y/n’

‘Well there’s no need, you lot look like rubbish’

‘Gee Myc, thanks’ John interrupted.

‘As I was saying,’ he continued, glaring at Watson ‘You lot should get some rest. If y/n finds you’ve been staying here with her, tired and looking like rubbish, she’d have my head.’

‘She’d already be livid by us just not leaving her alone’ John chuckled

‘Ohh wait till she sees Sherlock, she’d be in flames carving us up’ Lestrade groaned with a snicker, rubbing his head at the thought.

‘She already is’ said an unknown voice. A voice they were familiar with but haven’t heard in a while.

All three heads snapped towards the bed. There they found a woman shifting in the bed, trying to sit up, groaning as a pang of pain shot up her shoulder and stomach. Her eye’s fluttering, adjusting to the light and scene in front of her. John quickly stood up from where he was sat as all three men went to check on y/n.

‘Call the nurses and her doctor’ John ordered to anyone in the room, mainly the two lads he was in conversation with and Lestrade followed, rushing from the room to get your attendants.

‘Hey there, sleeping beauty, stop moving around, your going to pop your stitches. Do you remem…’ John fretted as he started examining you, but got cut off.

‘Oh shut it John, I’m fine. Yes I remember what happened. I got shot. Last thing I remember was staring at a barrel of a gun. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m presuming I’m in the hospital. I’m also presuming Elizabeth is still the queen of England now leave me alone.’ She growled and the former army doctor backed away as her doctor came in with a few others, some nurses followed by Lestrade.

‘Ahh, it seems our VIP has awoken’ the doctor said.

‘VIP!’ She took another once over the room, seeing it is rather posh than a normal one, but her focus was on the three blokes taking a laugh at what her reaction was to be when she woke, before she shot her gaze to Mycroft who is to the right of her bed ‘Mycroft Holmes you moved me to a VIP room!’ she fumed as the government official backed away.

‘Okay Ms. Y/L/N please calm down. If you don’t mind, I will perform an examination to check your abilities.’ The doctor mused as he slowly and carefully approached the bed. He asked for permission to lift up your gown to examine the wound on your stomach. You waved him off and he began asking questions.

‘Ughh, John repeat’ you grumbled, already having answered the question before John could even ask.

‘She’s fine, she answered the questions before I could even ask.’ John explained to the doctor who nodded. He asked to uncover your shoulder, as he covered your stomach, to examine the wound on your there. Complying, he examined your arm. After the examination of the wounds, he checked your mobility and reflexes, lifting up your arms and etcetera. Finished with the inspection, he explained what happened to you medically. Apparently, the shot had you fall backward, in which you hit you head very hard -that explained the headaches-. You got shot at four times, three bullet hit you. One just a graze, one a flesh wound on the shoulder and the last on the edge of your stomach. It hit no vital organs but did graze the stomach. They took you to surgery and came out with minimal complications. They left you in a medically induced coma for a day to get the swelling on your head down. You haven’t woken up till now. You nodded every so often until he left, leaving you in the room with the boys and a nurse checking up on your vitals.

Running your uninjured hand to your hair, which was full of knots and a tangled mess, you sighed. You had pads stuck on your shoulder, stomach and arm, covering the holes and grazes on each area. The doctor said it was a miracle that you haven’t sustained much damage. He said miracle, you thought those were the odds of your predicament. ‘It could have been worse’ he said, that you believed. ‘You were lucky’ he added, you didn’t believe in luck.

‘Did anybody else get hurt?’ You asked, eyes closed, leaning back on the bed.

‘No, everyone’s fine, the hostages weren’t harmed, just… you’ John hesitated as he knew the lot of them were threading on thin waters.

‘How bad is it’ You asked, looking at Greg. He knew what you were talking about, he’d be stupider than you thought if he didn’t. He realized you must have heard his news about your lover. He doesn’t respond immediately, hesitating. Just from that you knew it was bad.

‘Bad’ he replied anxiously

‘Be more specific’ you sneered, ticked off from the lack of detail

‘He’s using’ John said plainly. ‘He is, isn’t he?’

‘Yes’ both Mycroft and Greg replied.

‘Fuck’ you breathed out, unintentionally ran you hand through your hair again, pissed to be greeted with a tangled mess. You look at John. He looked tired, bags and dark circles under his eyes, he looks like rubbish.

‘How long was I out again’ you asked, having ignored the doctor most of the time during his explanation, you let that little information slip.

‘A week’ John answered. You nodded as a thought crossed you.

‘Where’s, who’s with Rosie?’ you asked, concern over who’s with your god daughter. John smiled at your concern over his offspring.

‘She’s fine, she’s with Molly.’ he explained. You let out a breath, wincing a bit at the movement. You were given a PCA pump to help you control your pain, you pressed the button to add a dosage, not to much to get you fucked high but enough so the pain was manageable.

‘Speaking of, I should inform her and Mrs. Hudson that you’re awake.’ he said pulling out his phone.

‘Wait. Where are my things’ you asked so to get your own phone. The nurse’s head picked up and she gave you a plastic bag full of your belongings. You greeted her thanks as she continued on scribbling on her clip board.

‘John, could you get me anything to eat, I’m starving’ you asked your friend. He gave you a soft smile and nodded, glad that you had an appetite, he headed out to the canteen. Your gaze moved on to Mycroft who was sat on a chair near the window.

‘You, get me a less fancy room please. I do not want to be treated as if I’m royalty.’ he opened his mouth to object, but you cut him off. ‘Please’ you begged, which caused his resolve to break and agree. Not many could order around the Holmes boys, you were just one of the few that could. He left the room with his cane in tow, shutting the door. The nurse was about to leave as well but you called her over before she could.

‘Hi, could you please get me an AMA to sign and please be discreet.’ you told her gently but the intent an order. She looked at you for a second before nodding quickly and rushing out to get the document. You knew very well you could just leave without signing a damn thing but you didn’t want to cause a problem with the hospital, so this is just a courtesy.

‘What the are you doing’ Lestrade asked you as you ripped open the bag full of your stuff.

‘Did you guys get me anything to change?’ you said as you riffled through the bag looking for your phone.

‘Yah um sure.’ He went over to the closet and took a bag from a shelve. ‘Molly went to your flat while you were in surgery.’ He explained putting the bag on the bed. Having found your phone, you opened the bag he had given you and took out a change of clothes. You grabbed a clean pair of knickers, your denim jeans, a white shirt and a blue cardigan from the bag as you told Greg to close the curtains and look away. He followed as you gently put on your underwear and jeans. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button of the PCA pump to administer a bit more, scratch that, a lot more of morphine a few more times before pulling the needle out. You grimaced and threw the needle away. The nurse happens to have chosen that moment to come in and see what you were doing. She came to help you and pulled a plaster from one of the many drawers of medical equipment next to the machines. Greg who was still looking at the window asked what was happening.

‘Nothing just… did Molly happen to bring me any shoes’

‘Uhh yeah, bottom of the bag’ he replied.

‘Okay’ you say as the nurse helps you with your bra and shirt. You carefully put your arm through the hole of the shirt and rummaged through the bag of your items for a hair tie, your hair was killing you. Having found one, you attempted to tie your hair but a pang of pain shot your shoulder and stomach, mild but it was still there. The nurse having noticed this took the hair tie from you and tied your hair up in a bun. You were so very grateful for her at that moment.

‘Greg you can turn around now.’ Following your orders, he turned to see you fully clothed, a nurse tying up your hair.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing’ he exclaimed as he walked over to face you.

‘You are taking me to Baker Street.’ You say flatly as you reached for the clip board of forms.

‘I am not’ He handed it to you, and you asked for a pen.

‘You are’ you said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, he found one in his coat and handed it to you. You quickly scribbled and signed the discharge papers before handing them to the nurse, who was removing the rest of the wires attached to you.

‘Can you find me a wheelchair’ you asked Lestrade who fully knew it was an order and not a request. Grumbling he followed and left the room leaving you with the nurse. You pulled the shoes from the bag, threw the plastic bag of bloody garments in and zipped it shut. Slipping on the trainers carefully, you stood up fully from the bed and walked around with the help of the nurse, to wake up your legs from its week rest. Your clothes hung loose and big as you’ve lost a bit of weight during your hibernation. As you walk around the room, your leg starts to get a bit more feeling. The morphine was relieving most of your pain but that didn’t mean there still wasn’t some left.

Lestrade came in with a wheelchair as you’ve just slipped on the cardigan. You took a seat from the chair and asked for you bag to be placed on your lap. You thank the nurse, asking for her name as you were going to send her a gift basket or something as a thank you for getting you out of the hospital. She bided you with instructions and precautions with wounds, which you told her to tell John when he got back from the cafeteria. A thought occurred and you also asked her for a favour of giving John a few of the pain meds -morphine really- when he returned and maybe a suture kit, she nodded questionably. You thanked her one more time before asking Lestrade to wheel you to his car and head to Baker Street. You made a mental note of giving that nurse a very good thank you basket for all the things she’s done for you.

…

As Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand, she heard the ramblings of her tenant. From what she can tell, he was reciting Shakespeare. As she slowly opened the kitchen door -finding it much safer than the main one directly opening to the flat-, she’d find her kitchen a mess. Her table filled with beakers, a microscope, tubes and whatnot with a bunch of other experiments in different bins. Her counters and cabinets filled with the same thing, with an added touch of pinned and hanging files and photographs. The floors ridded with stacked piles of papers and boxes. She just managed to squeeze in her tray of tea and biscuits on the table, before being startled by a gunshot. She jumped and headed to the living room where the shots originated, checking on the lad she treated like a son. As she finally managed to weave her way to the living space, she was greeted by another shot, one her wall had to suffer.

She found Sherlock shouting and waving a revolver, as he rounded the flat like a mad man.

‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; ' he recited loudly, pacing around the flat, pointing the gun at pictures that hang on strings and objects he found no longer useful, before shooting a picture pinned on the wall.

Startled from the shots fired and getting quite scared of Sherlocks erratic behaviour -though she’s somewhat used to this-, she rushes out the flat and down the stairs. She was going to ring up John or Lestrade to inform them of the increase in violence in the detective’s behaviour. More shots followed at her decent down the stairs when the front door slammed open revealing a y/h/c head of hair she knew belonged to the only person who could help the bloke who live in the flat she just rushed out on.

…

As the car got closer to 221 Baker Street, a clear sound of a bullet wrang through the block. A sound I know a bit too well from a recent experience. I flew out of the vehicle before Greg could even stop the car, pain searing through my body at the force of my movements. A faint ‘Eyy’ was heard coming from Greg but again faint as I was rushing to the front door.

‘STAY THERE’ I shouted back. The slanted knocker flew at the force of the door being slammed open. That was going to leave a dent on the partition, but I didn’t care.

‘Y/N!’ Mrs. Hudson was descending the stairs but was frozen in place at my arrival. I quickly sped up the stairs, past the landlady as pain wrecked through my body. ‘NOBODY COME UP HERE’ I shouted again, my throat getting sore even from the minimal exchange of words. I slow my steps as I get to the closed door of the flat, a booming voice heard from this side of the door. I slowly and very carefully open the door, not wanting to startle and get sent to the hospital with another bullet wound.

‘On, on, you noblest English. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, have in these parts from morn till even fought and sheathed their swords for lack of argument’

‘Sherlock’ I said softly, announcing my arrival in between his rant. As I entered, I find chaos with the man I found to love in the centre of it all. What once was a somewhat organized flat, morphed as if a tornado passed through. Papers and pictures cloud and scattered on any available space. Strings hang at odd places. Bullet holes and pictures fill the walls, shattered pieces of glass crowd the floor along with knocked over furniture. It’s a mess.

You look up at Sherlock after scanning the room. Focusing on the detective, you take in his ragged and worn appearance. His curly head of hair, a greasy mess, sticking out at odd places. A heavy stubble has grown from the lack of shaving the past week. His features, primarily his jaw and cheekbones sharp from the scarce to none amount of food consumed. His skin, sickly pale as mine from when I woke up just less than an hour ago. His clothes hung loose on his body, the navy robe wrapped around him, fluttering as it followed his movement. He looks worse than me at the moment.

‘Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, and teach them how to war.’

He’s ranting, no reciting Henry the Fifth at the top of his lungs, waving the revolver around as he paced the flat, pulling at the papers stuck on the mirror, kicking anything his foot touched. Still in the midst of this chaos, what stood out to me were his eyes. Rounded by dark circles, sunken deep. However, behind those blue changing orbs, were emotions. I was always rather good at reading him, but his eyes always gave me the confirmation of my suspicions. Now what hid behind those beautiful cerulean blue orbs was guilt, worry and anger. I know that Sherlock cares for me and he has told me himself that he loves me, but I never knew that my absence would ever have this affect on him. Come to think of it, we’ve gone through far worse incidents but on the other hand he was always the one on that deep end. I never thought and always assumed that nobody cared enough for me to care if I was ever injured or dead. How wrong am I.

With a sigh, I whispered ‘Oh Sherlock what have you done’. I gulped before finding my voice to speak out again. I don’t think he knows of my presence yet as he’s still quite dramatically delivering the scene.

‘And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in England, show us here the mettle of your pasture.’

‘Sherlock’ I spoke up, receiving no response nor acknowledgement in return.

‘Let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, that hath not noble lustre in your eyes’

‘Sherlock’ I say louder, hoping to break through his train of thought.

‘I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ He finished loudly before sending steady shots at a picture pinned to the wall behind the couch, causing me to duck with a whimper, my hand flying to my stomach. I definitely popped a few stiches.

‘SHERLOCK’ I screamed, only to have the colt pointed at me again. Having a bit of a deja vu as the last thing I remember before waking up this noon was staring a barrel of a gun. Quite used to this from my previous job and years running around with the boys, I’m fairly tired of it. I raise my hands as a faint of innocence, hoping once again to save another trip to the hospital.

‘Sherlock’ I repeated softly, wincing as I slowly stand. A wave of recognization flashes through him and he wavers slightly. Taking the opportunity, quickly taking a step closer -ignoring the throbbing pain coursing through me-, I smack the hand that wields the gun upwards, causing his grip to falter and ultimately letting go of the gun. I quickly snatch the revolver mid-air with my other hand, a tight grip on the handle, holding it far away from him, taking a few steps back.

A bit fazed from recent actions, Sherlock remains frozen, possibly shocked from my presence. I on the other hand go to remove the bullets from the cylinder but find it empty, before place the firearm on the coffee table that was pushed to the side. I wince again when I stand up straight after bending to place the gun carefully on the table. I turn back to him, his stare boring a hole through me. I say his name in a soft tone once more as I slowly walk back over to him. A foot remains, the distance being the only barrier keeping us apart.

I see him looking over every inch of me, deliberating if I was a hallucination from his drugged high or really standing in front of him. He’s deducing every little detail on me after being deprived of my appearance the week. Greg told me while we were in the car that he’s only come to see me once during my stay at the hospital.

I say his name again and close the distance, sparing him the torture I’m sure he’s come up with trying to push through the intoxication. I place my palm on his cheek, caressing the sharp jawline as is eyes flutter to a close. He melts under my fingertips and leans into the hand. A bit of my heart chips and withers away, the sight of him, he looks tired, exhausted.

‘Ohh darling what happened to you’ I whisper.

My other arm goes to rub his back but instead decides to scream in pain. Sherlock feeling the wince, opens his eyes and draws back, terrified at the thought of him hurting me. With a deep breath, I try close the distance again, yet he moves away.

‘I’m fine.’ I gave him my best smile and fill the space keeping us apart. My good arm wraps around him. He hesitates but wraps his arms around me before breaking down. No one has anyone seen Sherlock Holmes break down. No one even knows if he’s ever had a break down, possibly besides his family. Mycroft told me of his emotional youth. Yes, he was traumatized after Redbeard but as far as I was told he never broke down. Not like this.

His head drops and hides at the crook of my neck, hugging me in a tight embrace, not enough to hurt much but there were still bits of it, the morphine dosage I took evidently wasn’t enough or the hospital have bloody horrible pain meds, I choose to believe in the latter. I resulted to bending my other arm caress his back, moving the good one to his hair as I kissed his head. He then sobbed, soaking up the fabric of my garments before collapsing. I eased him down the messy floor carefully -a bit more for my sake than his-, letting out a shush as he sobbed. I grimaced a bit a few times, letting out a small hiss that was thankfully barely audible due to his snivelling. Sitting at the back of my legs, I held the man I would, without second thought give my life for if it came to it. The man that has managed to capture my heart without realizing it. The man many have called heartless but had the biggest of them all.

‘it’s okay darling, let it out’ I whispered to his ear.

I held him for a long while. Rubbing his back, caressing his hair, ignoring the pain of my wounds, consoling and murmuring words of comfort into his ear. At some point the tears stopped, left with sniffles before ending up with his slow and steady breathing down my neck. He fell asleep. I smile, he was finally getting some rest and I was happy with that. Considering the state he was in I doubt at the possibility of him getting any sleep. I kissed the side of his face that was still tucked on my shoulder. He nuzzled himself closer and his never faltering grip on my ribs tightened a bit.

With my good hand, I reached to my back pocket, grabbing my phone to send a text to the boys. At some point during the wall getting packed with bullets and me consoling Sherlock, I heard the taxi pull up at front, the sound of the front door opening and the unmistakable voice that belonged to John. He had attempted to go up, but Mrs. Hudson stopped him, the same thing she did to Lestrade and the same thing she did to Mike after John had asked.

I sent a text to John You can come up now. A minute later, the stairs rumbled at the footfalls of the men rushing to flat. I looked at the open door and saw all three – or two as Mike is taking his time waiting for the two to pass- dashing to check up on us. I sent a glare at them for their loud behaviour as they stepped to 221b. I shushed them and they apologized quietly.

‘Help me get him to bed please.’ I said in a nicer tone as I’ve realized I haven’t exactly been the kindest, ordering them around. Of course that’s what I was still doing but it was better to ask or demand in a kinder tone. Greg came up to us and I kissed Sherlocks temples one more time before slowly releasing his grip on me. He stirred but I managed to lull him back to his slumber. With the help of John, they carried the detective to his room and carefully -instructed by me after sending a glare- laid him on the bed. I haven’t bothered to stand up yet so when Mycroft came up to me and offered his hand, I accepted, wincing and grimacing when ache and agony shot at different part of my body. He helped me stand up steady after wobbling my steps, the numbing of sitting on the back my legs and not being fully recovered from its week rest nearly sends me tumbling on shards of glass.

‘I should be very mad at you’ he said.

‘And I cared if you were mad because…’ you retorted with a smirk. You looked past the kitchen to the bedroom just as the Lestrade popped his head out and walked back to the living room.

‘Fuck, my bag’s still in your car now isn’t it’. I sighed, exhausted from the days crusade. Before I could even attempt to move toward the door or ask someone to get it, Lestrade is already out the door. A smile creeps up my lips and I move to the kitchen, followed closely behind by Mycroft. I find a tray of tea and biscuits -no doubt left by Mrs. Hudson-. The teas gone a bit cold, but I didn’t care and take a sip of it. I’m parched and starving so I take one of the biscuits and stuff my mouth. I turn around to see Mycroft give me a disapproving look before the kitchen door opens and the landlady comes in.

‘Hello dear, its good to see you’ she greets to me with a half hug.

‘Nice to see you too Mrs. Hudson.’ I smiled pulling apart.

‘John had this with him when he came in but left it down at my flat when he got your text.’ She waved around Johns medical bag. Speaking of, he walks into the kitchen where the party seems to be as I stuff my face in biscuits and cold tea. Mrs. Hudson noticing this, scolds me and says she’ll make a new batch for the whole lot of us. Me and John say ‘thank you’ in unison and she leaves the flat.

‘What are we doing here?’ John looks at Mike who ignores him then turn to me.

‘I was going to the bedroom, but I saw these’ waving to the tray ‘and I’m starving’ reply taking a sip of the tea.

‘Yeah, speaking of, the food is still in the bag’ he nods to his bag which I’m guessing has hospital food in it.

‘Hospital food? Bleck no thanks, I’m fine with these’ gesturing to the tray again as I go take another sip of the tea to clear my throat.

‘For goodness sake enough of that’ John frustratingly releases the cup of my grip and I glare at him. He weirdly doesn’t like me drinking cold tea.

‘Eyy I wasn’t done with that’ I pout but he ignores me. He give me a once over and gesture to my stomach.

‘Your bleeding’ he say and I look down to see a red spot on my shirt.

‘Oh really, I didn’t notice’ I counter sarcastically as he picks up his bag and looks for his equipment.

‘Do it in the bedroom just’ I sigh, I’m really exhausted. I turn to Mycroft who is looking around at files attached to the strings. ‘Mike thank you for your help, please stay until Mrs. Hudson comes back with the tea then you want you can go’ I announce but get interrupted by Greg, who’s in the living room ‘In here’ I say and open my mouth to continue but get interrupted again. ‘Ey, isn’t that the shooter at the school’ He asks, pointing his thumb at the living room. Confused and intrigued, I limp on back to the living room followed by my posse, to see his pointing at the bullet ridded wall, a picture of the shooter indeed there but with a bullet hole or holes on the face. That’s what Sherlocks been shooting at. Christ.

‘Yeah, that’s him’ I sigh and continue on what I was previously saying. ‘Greg you can leave the bag anywhere, I’ll fix it later. Stay until after Mrs. Hudson’s tea then leave. Thank you for your help really.’ I smile and finally head to the bedroom, John at the heels.

As I enter the room, I find Sherlock sound asleep in the bed, on his back. The boys haven’t bothered with the sheets, so I cover him up with a blanket. I sit down carefully on the bed with the help of John, wincing every once and a while because of the pain. I lift my feet up to the bed gently, trying not to disturb my stomach anymore as he pulls out a suture kit and painkillers. I then turn to Sherlock, fix his head on pillow and stroke his head of curls, a bit greasy. I take a deep, knowing what I have to do, that I must check but its daunting. I exhale and get on with it, grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeves. Fuck. His arm is riddled with needle scars. Too much to even count. Fuck. I look over at John who’s also staring. He’s getting angry just looking at it, so with a sigh, I cover up his arm again and gently place it back on his side. Looking back at John, he’s still staring at the arm.

‘Hey’ snapping him out of his thoughts. He looks me in the eyes, livid at how his friend is treating himself. I lift up my shirt and he diverts his gaze to my side, peeling off the pads and checking on the wound. He’s awfully silent as he puts on a pair of gloves and opens the suture kit. He remembers the painkillers though, so he covers the wound back up temporarily and gets a syringe he’s laid out and sticks it to the bottle.

‘They had horrible pain killers’ I try fill the quiet room with humour, but the hospital did have horrible meds. His features soften when he looks at me, tapping the syringe as I remove the sleeve of the cardigan. He finds a vain before sticking the needle in to give me some relief.

‘Those are good. They the one the nurse gave you?’ I ask. He nods as he goes back to the hole on my stomach. He stitches me up after sticking another needle around the area to numb it -a whole lot better than before because I can’t even feel the wound-. He’s pulling rather aggressively on the needle and while I can’t feel it, I don’t appreciate his way of releasing his anger on my skin.

‘John, If you are to keep doing that, I’m kicking you out.’ He glances back up at me and he mutters an apology before continuing his work, gently this time.

‘I’ll make him pee in a jar, just let him sleep.’ I say glancing back at Sherlock. He just looks exhausted, I’m exhausted but I want nothing more than to hold him in my arms and run my fingers through his curls but if I do that now he’ll wrap himself around me and I don’t think John would appreciate getting interrupted from his work.

‘This is worse than Mary’ I merely murmured, barely audible but it seems John heard. I run a hand up my face, leaning back, letting out a breath as John looks from me to Sherlock.

‘It could have been much more worse if you didn’t wake up’ he looks back down to finish the sutures as I look at him. He’s right of course, he always is with these things.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture, or you be mad about me leaving the hospital.’

‘Oh, I am mad, just there’s no point of it is there when you don’t give a damn and will do what ever the hell you want anyway’ he ties of the last stitch and grabs some gauze to cover. My lips curl up into a grin knowing he is once again right about that. I hold the gauze as he tapes it up before putting another bandage just in case. He finishes and starts to clean up his things.

‘Thank you, John. I’m really really grateful for all that you’ve done. All the things everybody’s done.’ I beam.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture or you livid’ he humours, repeating what I said just moments before with his own twist.

‘Oh, I am. But I get it, I would have done the same with you lot, but It’s done and just thank you.’ I admit, though I still want to be cross, I get it. They care.

‘He needs you; you know. More than you know. He lost it after you didn’t wake up when they took you off the meds for the coma. You’ve somewhat replaced his high from the drugs with your own and the probable thought and loss of it just scared him, so he resorted back to the old habit.’ He explained. I take in his deduction of his best mate with the only thought bearing through the surface is that he right. The Sherlock I know now is very different from the one I met all those years ago. That hard robotic exterior now has a beating heart. He cares more than he will want to admit but he really does.

I look at mop head beside me and beam. Since John is done with tending to my wounds, I roll my shirt back down and finally let the sleeping detective wrap himself around me. He does as soon as I placed a hand on his cheek, he rolls over to my side, draping an arm over my ribs and pulling me close like he’s always done, enveloping my side with his warmth, his head snuggling and hiding itself on the crook of my neck.

I’ve spent years thinking nobody gave a damn about me. Thinking no one cares if I was dead or not. Never have I ever been more pleased to be proven wrong. All those years alone, holed up, thinking I served no purpose to this world, ready to lose what I thought was a useless life only to be brought up the wide and bright opening and end of the cornucopia. I have friends, who will stay at my bedside just to make sure I wasn’t alone when I wake up from a gunshot. A god daughter, who’s laugh brightens up the darkest shadows cast upon us, who’s lost enough people in her few years in this rock. And a partner, fiancée, who’s meant more to me and evidently, I to him than more than we both ever thought possible. We’d be lost without each other, there’s enough evidence to prove it.

I gaze back at John, eyes getting a bit droopy, I’m surprised my mind has been making long hard thoughts. He’s just standing there, staring. Creepy admittedly, but also lovingly. Sentimental, possibly thinking of Mary.

‘Hey’ I say softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘Go home. Sleep. Stay if you want tea from Mrs. Hudson but go home afterwards. Take the two if they’re still here. I’m going to sleep, just give Rosie a kiss for me and make everyone get some rest. Thank you again for staying with me at the hospital. Leave the mess, I’ll get it sorted.’ I instruct before a yawn escapes me. He looks back at the detective snuggled up at my side.

‘I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.’

‘And who taking care of you, he’s not the only one I’m worried about at the moment.’

‘I’ve got you lot now don’t I. I’ll phone you if I need anything. Right now, I just want to shut my eyes for a bit.’ I give him droopy smile, sleep really wanting to overcome my body. He bids his last warnings to take caution with my wounds and I wave him goodbye and goodnight. He nods and leaves the room, while I nestle myself better in the detective. His grip tightens and he nuzzles himself closer to my neck as I slowly drift off.

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sterlingarcher23 · 5 months

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An "eye-opener"

This quite literally opened her eyes... Oh, foreshadowing. Nachtigall ick hör dir trappsen.

"Let me see" (If "I hear you" while listening to the radio forshadows blind Max, the "Let me see" forshadows the opposite.)

Why? Because both Lucas & Erica are connected to the 8.

You know... Kali. The dice could have shown any other number in slow motion but it's the 8 before it's a 20 (the ElMax & Lumax patterns both equate separately to a specific number once the final verse happened: 20)

Lucas speaks directly to her inability to see and feel and he says "We're gonna get you some help". Not for the resurrection, he speaks to her condition, her loss of sight and unable to feel/been paralyzed (the dying/resurrection is addressed after this) - Some don't see her paralyzed forever but blind definitely? That is inconsequential. (Seriously, you can't just flat out say one part is probably not the case but the other is. - It's both or nothing. That's why it's in this scene.)

A supernatural genre show and you truly believe everything is going to be normal?

Blind girl...

...um, psych.

Blind girl connected to her friend - when she grabs Els hand, she pulls off her glasses.

"Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds", Neverending Story

So behind Max's clouded eyes "rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold". We still have to see this, don't we? S4 didn't gave us this.

Angel by Madonna, in its final line, says "Clouds just disappear". One shouldn't overlook this line of the song when everything else IS in the show.

And how? You know how. Brenner explained it even to us. We just misunderstood who was actually meant.

You know "taking abilities & memories".

Well she IS alive, ergo she will see another day even though it won't be her "eyes" that she'll use. It doesn't get more obvious than in this line - not only for this episode but in whole since this scene is a forshadowing of both her death and resurrection (I think there's the clock sound at the 20 minute mark?):

IF Max lives (Yes & Yes), she will SEE another day (Yes and logically Yes again! + "In your hand/s the birth of a new day"). And Lucas & Erica will get her some help as Max demanded "Let me see" via the 8. (which is btw the shape of the binoculars too)

El will be Max's eyes. Yes, I agree. Literally. This scene here is meant literal. You remember Phineas Gage? No? Go watch the scene. 😉

I'll talk about Gage in another post but there's a case of a woman that was blind after an accident. She was diagnosed with brain damage ; you know the thing Max doesn't believe is a thing...and she's right in her case. That woman wasn't blind, it was a misdiagnosis as it turned out many years later. The woman had something else... similar to Gage's symptoms but the correct diagnosis wasn't brain damage.

Max is blind...but she isn't at all. Because she'll consume. The silver cat feeds. Abilities. Memories.

The Talisman which Lucas reads from passage refers directly to Speedy. Speedy Parker whose alternate version, Parkus is a gunslinger, a knight. There's a third character with the name of Snowball (Seriously!) a blind musician who, although never directly confirmed, the protagonist of The Talisman, Jack, identifies as Speedy Parker. Snowball is extremely good in identifying other people himself even though he "can't see" - but if he is indeed Speedy, how can he be blind and be able to see at the same time? The Talisman - a healing object like the Grail - doesn't answer this oddity, it can be interpreted as a case of multiple identities/versions. However it is obvious why the Duffers chose this reference: Max is "Speedy" and therefore Snowball. That's why the "Snowball" happened. Blind yet not blind at all.

Plus: El literally removes blindness where he blinds the kids.