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glowinghae · 2 years

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love grows {part four} ~ stranger things au

pairings. Eddie x OC warnings. SMUT! Going down (mtf), boobies, almost sex. No protection. Mentions of illness (cancer) and intense bullying. Also angst but also fluff.

etc. This chapter is INSANELY long but I couldn’t stop writing. Also I’m spoiling you guys with my constant posting. I gotta write faster at this rate! And also, there is some very subtle foreshadowing in this chapter so tell me if you find it.

part one - part two - part three

_________________________________________

Rosemary had played Dungeons and Dragons two times already in the mere week that had passed. And she couldn’t lie, it was really fun.

“Okay Rosemary,” Will was sitting at her kitchen table while Dustin and Lucas were playing the Atari they had brought over. In the past week, the boys had decided that this was their new favorite place to hang out. Mainly because Rosemary never told them no and always made them snacks. “I’m almost done.”

Will was helping her flesh out her DnD character and was currently drawing out what she looked like. “You remembered the ebony duel blades?” She asked, glancing over at Will and Eleven talking on the couch. Rosemary was surprised Hop let her out to her house but he seemed to trust that Rosemary knew how to stay hidden.

The boy nodded. He was doing shockingly well since his traumatic experience just over a month before, and Rosemary knew he hated it but she had promised his mother Joyce that she would keep an eye on him. He put the colored pencil gently on the table and looked up at her smiling, “Done!”

Rosemary smiled as she came around the table to have a look at his drawing. She read the description loud, “A disgraced sorcerer turned Rouge, Thorn is a deadly level 10 assassin who prefers stealth mode but will use magic as needed. Came from an affluent elven family who upon discovery of her betrayal had her ears docked. Now she joins quests searching for her shot at redemption. Primary weapon: assault blades, secondary weapon: dark sorcery.”

The drawing was super cool. The character kind of looked like her but way prettier with hair down past her hips braided into two thick plaits. Most of her was shrouded by a long dark cloak, two blades just visible in her grasp. The character, Thorn, had black smudged all around her eyes and running down her cheeks. Rosemary looked up at Will and tousled his hair, “Badass.”

Will was beaming, “So next campaign you can really get into character. Next one is gonna be so sick!” He launched into telling her the details of what his plans were.

As he spoke Rosemary’s thoughts wandered a bit as she stared at the key fab. Her mom was at work again. But she was beginning to wonder if these ‘extra hours’ were really just her going to the clinic for treatments.

She and her mom still hadn’t talked about her mothers diagnosis.

“Rosemary!” Will was shaking her arm and she blinked hard. “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry,” Rosemary sighed, but she wasn’t really ready to tell the kids about her mom. It wasn’t something that they needed to think about, “I just have a date in a couple hours,” Will made a face, “I know, I know, gross. It’s just I haven’t really decided what to wear or anything like that.” It’s true, she had a date with Eddie in a few hours, but in truth she just didn't want to tell the real reason for her mental distance.

Will tapped his pencil on the table, “You should use that hair clip from the last campaign. It was pretty.”

“Yeah?” Rosemary beamed at the boy who nodded back with a shy smile. “Okay, deal.”

…

Rosemary was cleaning up after the kids when her mom came home.

She looked exhausted.

The house was clean now that the party had gone home, Rosemary was just placing the dishes to dry. “Hi mom.” She said.

Rhiannon placed her keys on the fab while shaking off her shoes, “How was band practice?” Her tone was off, a little on edge.

Rosemary just shrugged, “it was fine. I got to miss last period for it. The heater was broken so it was super cold.”

“Hmm.” Rhiannon was bundled up tight as it had been freezing out that day, but Rosemary watched as she removed all of her winter wear except her hat.

“So,” Rosemary chewed on her cheek, “I’m um, I’m going out with a friend tonight if that’s ok?”

“Sure dear, just give me a call if you spend the night anywhere.” It’s better that way. Rhiannon thought. I feel terrible, I don’t want her to see me like this.

Normally Rosemary would ask her mom to help her pick out an outfit for the night, or to paint her nails. But recently Rosemary didn’t know what to say to her mother, she didn’t want to make her exert any extra energy.

“Ok.” Rosemary said quietly.

I have to tell her soon. Her mothers thoughts had been more guarded recently, the only reason she could hear them currently is cause she was actively trying. Rosemary turned away and went upstairs, wiping the blood away from her nose.

It would be a lie to say Rosemary wasn’t at least excited about her date. No one had ever asked her out on a date before.

Well, that wasn’t true actually. As Rosemary hopped into the shower she remembered that a few boys over the years had asked her to the movies or to study but she had just always said no. But now that Hawkins Lab was shut down, she felt like she could finally be more free to be normal.

But she did currently feel a bit foolish now as she had no idea what she was supposed to wear on a date. Was it formal? Was it casual?

One thing she knew for sure was that it was cold out, so definitely something warm.

“Rosemary!” Her mother called for her from downstairs.

Wrapping a towel around her chest, Rosemary bolted downstairs to where her mom was standing by the wall, phone receiver in hand.

“You have a phone call from someone named Eddie.” Rosemary took the phone from her mother, “You’re dripping on the floor.” Rhiannon pointed out before taking a step back.

Rosemary rolled her eyes and held the phone up to her ear, “Hello?”

“Hey angel.” Even through the phone she could tell he was smiling.

Rosemary couldn’t help the smile that seeped onto her face at the sound of the nickname. “Hey, is everything ok?”

Wait, why is she smiling like that? No boy has ever called the house for her before. Rhiannon stared at her daughter, what have I been missing? Rosemary could feel the sadness dripping from her mothers thoughts.

“Yeah, everything is perfect. I just wanted to make sure you remembered our date tonight and that you weren’t caught up at band practice or anything. ” Eddie’s tone was excited but she could hear tapping over the receiver, he was probably tapping his fingers.

“I remembered.” Rosemary blushed, knowing her mother was listening to every word. “Six, right? What are we doing?”

Wait, six tonight? Is that what you meant by you going out later? Rosemary Sage Price do you have a date tonight? And you didn’t tell me? Rosemary was having a hard time listening to both her mother and Eddie so she held her finger up to her mouth in a silent shushing motion.

Eddie’s laugh rang through the phone, “That’s a secret for me to know and you to find out. But just make sure you’re warm, I don’t want you freezing to death on me.”

Rosemary giggled, “Yeah that might put a damper on things a little.”

“Would definitely add on to the ‘freak’ reputation if I’m found with a dead body.” Rosemary laughed again, and Eddie sighed contentedly, “Okay then, Rosemary, I will see you at 6.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

The last ‘bye’ was Rhiannon mockingly imitating her daughter's giddy tone of voice as Rosemary hung up the phone.

Rosemary was nervous about her mothers reaction. But her sunny disposition seemed to have returned for a moment as Rhiannon came and put her hands on Rosemary’s shoulders, “Your first date and you weren’t going to let me help you get ready?” Her mother smiled warmly at her but Rosemary could see the fatigue in her eyes.

The girl’s eyes drifted to the floor, “You’ve just been so busy mom, I didn’t want to bother you.”

Rhiannon tipped her daughter's chin up to look at her, “You are the only achievement in my life that truly matters to me. You will always be my priority and I will never be too busy for milestones like this. I’m sorry I made you feel that anything else was the truth.”

Somehow her mother apologizing only made her feel worse. “Don’t be sorry mom, it’s ok.”

“Have you picked your outfit yet?” Rosemary shook her head, “I’ll help you get ready and you can tell me about him, ok?”

…

“I was thinking hair in braids, yeah?” Her mother said, setting down the blow dryer now that Rosemary’s hair was dry but Rosemary shook her head, “No?”

“Eddie said he likes it down. He said it’s pretty.” Rosemary blushed and her mother laughed as she set down the hair tie she’d been holding, “Can I use your hair clip instead?”

“That’ll be cute too.” Rhiannon said as she grabbed her tortoise shell claw clip and did a half up style on Rosemary’s thick ebony hair, making sure to let her bangs and baby hairs fall out in the front. “I wish I knew where you got these looks from, maybe I could get some of my own.”

Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Says Hawkin’s Heartthrob circa 1968.” Rosemary was working on her makeup while her mom picked at her hair.

When Rosemary was a little girl, just after coming to be with her mother, she remembered looking through some beauty magazines and seeing a special issue on a girl named Twiggy. That was the first time Rosemary thought about being pretty and what that meant to her. When her mother let her start to wear makeup her thoughts always went back to Twiggy.

Which is probably why she liked to use eyeliner to make little fake lashes along her bottom eyelids which accented her sanpaku eyes.

“Mom,” Rosemary blinked as she looked in the mirror, “I wish I had your nose.” Rhiannon’s nose was perfect, a little upturned at the end with subtle freckles sprinkled across; Different from Rosemary’s nose. Rosemary’s from the front was slender and delicate looking, but from the side had a bit of a tall bridge and instead of her mothers spray of freckles had a dark beauty mark in the space between her bridge and the inner corner of her eye. And after the fight with Billy, it now strayed a little bit towards the left.

Rhiannon guffawed, “What?” She took her daughter's face in her hands, “Rosemary, just because you don’t look like the girls in the magazines doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

Rosemary rolled her eyes, “You have to say that, you’re my mom.”

“True,” Her mother said, “But I also really mean it when I say you have the kind of looks that make other girls sick wishing they looked like you. Not because you look so much more special than anyone else, but because you are so confident in who you are.”

Moving to change into the outfit she had picked, Rosemary hummed, “Thanks, I guess no matter how I look now beats the shaved head.” She said as she pulled the heavy knit cream turtle-neck sweater over her head. Rosemary had always liked how it was a little oversized and the midnight grey leaves embroidered into its design.

“You know,” Rhiannon moved to sit on her daughter's bed, “the guy I helped buy the house on Fleetwood Drive the other day had a nose kind of like yours. He was from Chile.”

“It’s possible.” Rosemary slipped into a pair of dark grey wool stockings before pulling on her black mini corduroy flare skirt, the one with brass buttons down the front. “Whenever I get images from the past the voices I hear are speaking Spanish.”

Rhiannon reached for her daughter's hand and gave it a squeeze, “How much luckier does that make me that you found your way here to be mine?”

There was that weight again, tugging at Rosemary’s chest. She should be so happy right now, but all she could feel was fear. What would life be like without her mom? But that fear shouldn’t stop her from being here in the moment with her, “I love you Mom.” She said sincerely.

“I love you too, Small One.” Her mother stood up, “And since I love you so much, I’m going to let you pick one of my lipsticks to wear.”

Eyes widening in excitement, Rosemary bit her lip, “Really?” Her mother let her do most anything with her wardrobe and makeup but was always a little weird about lipstick.

“Yes,” her mother called from outside the room, “You’re not my little girl anymore, you’re a woman. It’s time I stop treating you like a child.”

Rosemary was stepping into her black Mary Janes when her mother returned holding her tubes of Dior lipsticks. She could barely contain her excitement as she picked out a dark brown color, the bold color looked vibrant against her light olive skin tone as she applied it in the mirror.

“Beautiful.” Rhiannon remarked before playfully tousling her daughter's hair. “Keep it.”

…

It wasn’t long after getting ready that Rosemary saw Eddie’s lights in the driveway.

Her mother was in the bathroom and in an attempt to avoid any awkwardness Rosemary simply called out, “Bye mom! See you later!” Before bolting out the door and into Eddie’s passenger seat.

Eddie looked like the air had been punched out of him when she sat down. “Rosemary, you look…” Something caught his eye and he started to laugh, “like your mom is walking towards us in her pajamas.”

Words could not express the mortification Rosemary felt as her mother ran towards the van and tapped on the driver side window. Eddie grinned as he rolled the window down. “Mom.” Rosemary groaned.

You didn’t think you’d get away that easy did you?

She had certainly hoped so.

“Mrs.Price! It’s nice to meet you but you’re going to catch your death out here in the cold.” Eddie said smoothly as he struggled to take off his big brown carhartt jacket, “Here, let me give you-“

Her mother put her hand up to politely silence Eddie, “You’re sweet but I’ll only be a second. And please, call me Rhiannon.” Rhiannon reached through the window and handed Rosemary two twenty dollar bills, “An advance on the chores for this week.”

“Thanks, mom.” Rosemary was blushing hard.

“Now Eddie,” Eddie’s attention snapped to Rhiannon’s face, which was friendly but also stern, “I’m not going to give you a curfew but I would ask you to have her back at a reasonable time, okay? She wanted to plant the tulip bulbs in the morning and she gets cranky if her garden isn’t kept up to par so I’d prefer not to have her in a bad mood tomorrow, understood?”

“Mom!” Rosemary moaned.

Eddie pressed his fingers to his temple in a salute, “Yes, ma’am! I would never dream of leaving her in a bad mood.”

A shiver ran through Rhiannon’s body as she nodded, “Alright then, have fun tonight and be safe. It was nice to meet you Eddie, I hope I’ll be seeing you again.” She stepped back and Eddie started to back out of the driveway, but Rosemary heard her mother call out one last “I love you” before Eddie closed the window and cranked up the heat in the van.

“Your mom is nice.” He probed and Rosemary burst out laughing.

“No, no, no, that was my mom completely trying to embarrass me.” She said between laughs. This was the first time Rosemary had a chance to look at Eddie. His big coat, the Metallica t-shirt layered underneath the dark blue flannel she had given him the week before and his black ripped jeans. He was wearing a black bandana on his head and from the passenger seat Rosemary could smell his cologne.

Rosemary bit her lip, he looked really good.

“Question though,” Eddie looked at her, “Pretty sure it’s supposed to snow tonight, it’s not really a good time to be gardening.”

“Oh.” Rosemary giggled, “They’re tulip bulbs. They have to be planted in the winter to be fully grown in the spring. It’s the perfect time actually.”

Eddie Munson was going to get in a car accident from how he couldn’t stop staring at her, “I didn’t know you liked gardening so much.” He smiled. That’s so fucking cute.

Tucking a strand of hair being her ear, Rosemary grinned, “Where do you think my name comes from?”

“Wow, your mom must have been psychic.” He laughed but when she just stared at him expectantly, Eddie side eyed her, “You mean to tell me that you picked your own name?”

Her laugh bounced off the walls of the van again, “I had… another name. Before I was with my mom. But I hated it and so did she. But it also took us a while to pick out a new one, she said she wanted one that fit me. So after like, two months, I had been out in the garden so often that Rosemary just kind of stuck.” Rosemary turned a little pink, “That’s why my mom calls me Small One sometimes, it’s what she called me before we picked a new name.”

“Your old name was that bad?” Eddie inquired, “What was it? Hildigraith or something?”

Even though he was joking Rosemary stiffened a little. She was trying hard not to actually lie to him, just to avoid certain truths. But it’s hard when the only name she had until she was ten was a number. Rosemary glanced down at her wrist, rubbing at the cover up tattoo nervously.

“Yeah,” she laughed nervously, “something like that.” Rosemary could feel the slightly raised skin around the now covered ‘005’ and she fidgeted with it slightly.

The movement caught Eddie’s attention and he glanced down, “I saw your tattoo the other night.” Rosemary’s head snapped up in panic before realizing he meant the Celtic knot. Obviously. “It’s pretty. Does it mean anything?”

Rosemary shrugged, “A lot. It can mean the balance between life, death and rebirth. Sometimes they represent different elements. But usually they just ward off evil.” It hasn’t really worked so far for that but at least it looked nice.

“You have a lot of evil that needs warding off?” Eddie snorted at the idea and Rosemary smirked at his innocence.

“Well, it is Hawkins.”

…

“I don’t understand.” Eddie huffed as he parked the car, “The Christmas Lights in the Park was supposed to start today.” His bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

Seeing him like this brought pangs of pity to Rosemary’s chest, while he was obviously playing up the dramatics, his eyes betrayed him.

This is so lame. She’s totally going to think I didn’t plan this at all. I’m blowing it.

“Hey,” Rosemary soothed, “It’s ok… maybe they just haven’t turned them on yet? They’re all set up.”

Eddie nodded glumly, getting out of the car to try and find someone to ask while Rosemary trailed behind. Eventually an old caretaker of the park came out of his office and Eddie asked him why the lights weren’t on.

“Postponed.” The old man huffed, “Apparently the Technician forgot the main breaker to turn it on and off. Hell of a screw up if you ask me.” Eddie’s face fell, “Believe me, young man, you won’t be the only ones disappointed tonight. I’m gonna have to phone all the vendors that can't come until tomorrow.”

Rosemary looked around, spotting the light strand meticulously set up around the park, “Everything is set up though?” She asked innocently and the old man nodded.

“Just no way to turn it on without a switch.”

Rosemary nodded and Eddie kicked the ground as they walked away, others filing into the park looking around in confusion.

You were an idiot to think you could give a girl like this a good time. She probably wants to go home.

Okay, that was the last straw. “Eddie, I left my purse in the car. Could you just go find it for me? I just need to use the restroom.”

Eddie smiled, “Sure thing, Angel.”

As soon as Eddie was out of sight Rosemary looked around. The old man had said that everything was connected to the power, just no switch to turn it on

Well, that was okay. Rosemary could be a switch.

Reaching out her hand and closing her eyes, Rosemary pictured the park in her mind. Dark and quiet, and then she pictured it how she wanted it and willed it into existence.

And when she opened her eyes it was so. All the lights in the park flicked on, illuminating every space that had once been dark. Lights wound around every branch of every tree, and hung like a canopy above her. Music suddenly began to play over speaks placed behind bushes.

The old caretaker stumbled from his office and looked around. Searching for the words before he whooped aloud in excitement, ushering people in.

Rosemary smiled in a silent glee. What she had just done was risky, but seemingly worth it as the small crowd of people who had turned back in disappointment had suddenly made 180’s to roam the park again, much happier expressions on their faces.

“Rosemary!” Eddie was running towards her, trying not to slip on any ice. “What happened? The lights?!” His face was beaming and Rosemary simply shrugged.

“Christmas miracle?” She suggested with a grin.

“Hold on,” Eddie tipped her chin up to look at him, “You have a nose bleed.” He wiped the blood away with a bandana that hung from his back pocket. “There.”

Not very long afterwards, the vendors started to set up shop and people from all over Hawkins were bustling around Hawkins Liberty Park.

The smell of roasted nuts wafted towards the young couple and Rosemary practically drooled at the sight of them. “Hold on!” She dropped Eddie’s hand as she ran over to purchase two small bags.

Returning victorious she handed a bag to Eddie who tapped them together, “Cheers to our Christmas miracle.”

“Or just some faulty wiring.” Rosemary suggested with a laugh.

“Cheers to whatever.”

They walked in silence for a moment, Rosemary silently taking in her beautiful surroundings. Eddie, rather, was taking her in. He watched how the lights reflected in her dark irises and the clouds that escaped her lips each time she breathed out. Speaking of lips, that dark shade she had on was captivating.

He cleared his throat, “I don’t think I got to finish my thought earlier. You look damn beautiful, Rosemary.” As Eddie said it, small white flakes began to appear and disappear in her dark hair. It was snow, he realized, but it looked like glistening diamonds against her dark tresses.

Rosemary looked up at him, looping her arm through his, “You look pretty good yourself, Eddie Munson. Especially in the snow.” She laughed, looking up to the sudden onset of white flakes.

Both of their cheeks glowed with pink, but who knew if it was their flirting or the cold?

“Rosemary!”

Strawberry blonde hair was bobbing towards her through the crowd. Chrissy.

And she wasn’t alone, Jason’s arm was firmly tucked around her waist.

Rosemary felt Eddie stiffen next to her but she only tightened her grip on his arm. “Hi Chrissy! Jason.” She nodded towards them both.

The blonde couple stopped as they saw who Rosemary had her arm looped with.

What the fuck is she doing with the Freak? Jason’s thoughts were intrusive, kind of making her head hurt. Doesn’t she know this makes her look bad?

Jason’s smile never faltered though.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight!” Chrissy said excitedly, her initial shock seemingly gone. Rosemary searched her mind, she’s smart. Rosemary wouldn’t be around someone she didn’t like. Jesus, hopefully Jason learns a thing or two from Chrissy.

Rosemary touched her friend's arm with her free hand, “Sorry Chrissy, I forgot to mention it earlier. This is Eddie by the way, Eddie Munson. He’s my…” Rosemary didn’t know what to say, she didn’t want to assume Eddie liked her as much as she liked him. But maybe saying friend would hurt his feelings. “My date tonight.”

Eddie smiled a forced smirk, “That’s me. The date.” He laughed dryly. Rosemary could tell he was uncomfortable and after the last time she’d seen how Jason treated him, she didn’t blame him.

“Well you look super cute!” Chrissy gushed, “I wanna borrow that sweater next week, okay?”

Chrissy and Rosemary had grown closer now that things had settled down. Chrissy had finally been invited to Rosemary’s house after years of friendship. I didn’t know Roe liked Eddie, she never mentioned it. He must be nice then, I’ve seen how she treats people who aren’t.

A memory flashed through Chrissy’s mind of when some student on the way home from middle school had lifted her cheerleading skirt and Rosemary had physically pushed the kid to the ground and began to berate him ruthlessly. What Chrissy didn’t know was that Rosemary had also forced the kid to wet his pants, she thought that was just out of fear of Rosemary.

The same Rosemary who was now trying to stifle a laugh at her friend's memory. “Yeah, I’ll bring it on Monday.”

Don’t think that by getting in good with Rosemary you’re gonna be one of us, Freak. You’ll mess this up somehow. And when you do we’ll be waiting to teach you a lesson for trying.

“Jason!” Rosemary blurted out in a moment of seething rage at listening to his thoughts. Jason looked up at her in confusion and Rosemary rushed to cover her tracks. She blinked and Jason’s nose started to gush blood, “Your nose is bleeding!” Rosemary exclaimed and Chrissy gasped, pulling a tissue from her purse to hand to him as Jason rushed to keep the blood off of his letterman’s jacket.

“Good catch, Roe, thank you.” Jason said through the blood.

“It must be going around,” Eddie remarked, “Your nose is bleeding again too, Rosemary.” He pulled his handkerchief out again to wipe the drop of blood from her nose.

Chrissy tutted, “It’s the dry winter. My knuckles always get so cracked this time of year. Oh jeez, Jason, it won’t stop bleeding”

“There’s a bathroom over there.” Rosemary pointed out.

Chrissy was in the middle of running him to the bathroom when Rosemary got a sudden wave of emotion from her.

No. Not emotion. Hunger.

It wasn’t a thought per say, but an overwhelming sensation that enveloped all of Chrissy for a moment, and it was so strong it made Rosemary feel ill. Like so hungry that she would kill someone to eat, but as though one bite would make her vomit.

“Chrissy! Wait!” Rosemary surged forward, breaking away from Eddie’s arm. Jason was running ahead to the bathroom while Chrissy paused to turn towards her friend, “Here,” Rosemary all but shoved the nuts into Chrissy’s hands, “I-I don’t feel good.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No! It’s okay! I’m not hungry!” Her tone dripped with cheer but Rosemary could feel the difference between when she was truly happy.

“Please.” Rosemary stuttered, still feeling the sensation coming from Chrissy, “Chrissy…” Rosemary’s stomach twisted and she spoke just over a whisper, “Please eat them.” The level of desperation freaked Chrissy out.

D-does she know? How could she know? I-I don’t want to disappoint Roe, she’s always stood up for me. How would she feel if she knew I was doing this? Does she know??

Rosemary tried to regain her composure and forced a smile, “it’s just that I don’t want them to go to waste, and they’re sweet like you.” Chrissy nodded, a smile returning to her lips, “Chrissy,” Rosemary paused, not sure what to say next but deciding to just speak from the heart, “Thank you for being my friend all this time. I-I love you.”

Chrissy’s face turned bright red as a smile lit up her face. A real one this time. She loves me? Roe’s never said that before. Is it too sappy to say I love you back?

“Anyway, I need to get back to Eddie. See you on Monday!” Rosemary didn’t want to prolong her awkward feeling and the hunger sensation was making her sick.

“O-okay!” Chrissy had a lot she wanted to say but just settled on a wave and a, “See you!” Before chasing after Jason.

An arm snaked around Rosemary’s neck, it was warm against the biting cold. “Are you okay? You went super pale on me.” Eddie pressed his free hand against her forehead, kind of kidding but his eyes held a little genuine concern.

“Yeah,” Rosemary sighed, leaning into his touch, “Just hungry.”

Eddie grinned, “Perfect, I have dinner waiting for us.”

…

“I know it’s not much, but it’s my castle. I would say I’m the king but my uncle pays most of the rent so I guess for now he holds the crown. Which is fine, heavy is the head am I right?”

He was rambling.

Rosemary looked around the trailer park as Eddie unlocked his door. So many people lived in such close quarters, they must constantly be running over each other, asking one another for help. No one probably ever felt alone.

It sounded nice.

I hope she isn’t freaked out. I know it’s not as nice as her house, hell it isn’t even a house, but I tried to make it nice for her.

Eddie was nervous enough that his hands were shaking as he opened the door for Rosemary.

When she stepped inside it was immediately fifty degrees warmer, the heat felt nice against her flushed cheeks.

The trailer was a trailer, a little cramped, but Rosemary admired how clean it was. Eddie certainly had tried to make it nice, everything was stacked away nicely, freshly vacuumed and mopped. It smelled like Pinesol, which ironically was one of her favorite smells.

There was a wall of trucker hats that she beelined to, and beneath it a book full of stamps that someone had meticulously collected.

“Uh, my uncle is kind of a collector. Wayne used to travel a lot for work, hence the trailer home. It made moving easier. But then I needed someone to look after me and he settled down in Hawkins.”

Rosemary found a bin on the floor full of license plates and she enthusiastically began to flip through them, admiring each state she saw.

“He didn’t used to have so many, but I liked to help him find new ones. Sometimes I would go down to the junkyard and look for different ones. I’m only missing three now, Alaska, Hawaii and New Mexico.” You sound so lame right now, please shut up. She probably thinks this is all so lame.

But he couldn’t be more wrong. So many different places, so much stuff to see. Rosemary was fascinated; it felt like when she was freshly free from the lab and every new thing she saw made her feel giddy and excited to be free.

When she turned and grinned up at him, Eddie’s worries melted away. “This place is so cool.”

He could practically see his heart melted and gooey on the floor from the expression on her face. Eddie could feel how sincere she was.

“I mean, I would cool it on the ‘so’ cool part but it’s got its charms. It could probably use a garden out front though.” Eddie teased, eliciting a laugh from Rosemary.

There were two large flat brown boxes on the kitchen counter that was giving off an absolutely heavenly smell. “Is that for us?” Rosemary asked in excitement.

“Yeah, I know it’s not much but I picked it up earlier. I had left it in the oven to keep it warm but it looks like Wayne took a slice before leaving for work.” Eddie sighed, nothing seemed to be going exactly right tonight.

Rosemary hopped over and opened the pizza box. Sure enough a slice of pepperoni was missing, “The man has good taste.” She beamed as she picked up a slice and all but swallowed it.

Eddie shook his coat off and hung it by the door. “We can go eat in my room, I moved the tv in there so we could watch a movie.” He grabbed the boxes and led the way to the back of the trailer.

When Rosemary saw the inside of the room she smiled. It was very Eddie. Posters hanging all over the place, a guitar hung on the wall with what looked like a shrine. His mattress just lay on the floor but he had obviously cleaned everything up. The bed had fresh sheets and was neatly made, although it had pillows and blankets galore.

And the room was covered in Christmas lights that cast a warm glow across the room. Rosemary was touched by how much care Eddie had put into tonight. And it broke her heart how mean he was to himself, as he currently thought about how much more she deserved.

“Eddie,” Rosemary plopped down on his bed, looking around in awe, “I’ve never had anyone treat me so well before. I don’t think I deserve all this.”

Eddie nearly choked as he set the pizza down on the ground and threw himself next to her on the bed, “You’re kidding right?” He laughed nervously, “Right?”

Rosemary shook her head, her dark hair bouncing around her. She took a bite of her pizza, “This is my first ever date but I honestly couldn’t have imagined anything better.”

‘First. Ever. Date?’ Eddie mouthed in shock, “No. No, see, now I know you’re messing with me. There’s no way I can believe you never went on a date before.”

“What can I say?” Rosemary shrugged, “I’m a freak.”

“Must be.” Eddie laughed, chomping down on a slice of cheese pizza. “But count me lucky I guess.”

Rosemary thought back to what Jason was thinking earlier, “Eddie?” Her chewing slowed, “Why are people so awful to you?”

The boy next to her snorted, “Why wouldn’t they be? I’m poor. I like ‘weird’ music and ‘weird’ games. I actually like to read instead of throwing hoops into glorified laundry baskets.” Eddie sighed heavily, “And my dad did some bad stuff that landed him in jail. So I guess they all think I’m like him.” His tone was no longer playful.

But the next thing Eddie knew, fingers were latched onto his, “My mom always said that doing bad things is like a disease, but not a contagious one. Bad people can’t spread badness to us, no matter how they try. Not unless we breed it within ourselves.”

She was looking at him like she knew, and he realized that she did. Eddie didn’t know what those bad people had done to her but he realized Rosemary must have the same fear; the fear of turning out just like them.

“Of course my mom says that doing good is also a disease, but a very contagious one with lots of side effects.” Rosemary rambled, realizing how lame it was that she was quoting her mom to a boy she liked.

But before she could try and say something else Eddie had cupped her face in his hands and was kissing her softly. Rosemary was frozen, mostly because she didn’t know where to put the piece of pizza she was holding. Before she could even react, Eddie had pulled away and her lip jutted out in a pout, disappointed it was over already.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, going back to eating his slice like nothing had happened, “I’ve just been wanting to kiss you since you walked out of your house earlier.”

It seemed the blush on her cheeks was becoming permanent.

Rosemary tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “You have lipstick on your mouth.” She smiled sweetly and Eddie simply laughed as he rubbed it off on the back of his sleeve. Rosemary glanced around the room and spotted a tall stack of vinyls against the wall, just by the guitar shrine. She slid off his mattress and shuffled towards the dresser next to the stack of music. “Lots of rock.”

“Do you mean metal?” Rosemary hadn’t heard him come and join her by her side. Eddie was smirking, “Have you ever listened to metal?”

The girl shook her head, leaning down to read the names of the vinyls. As she did, she caught a peek of all the stuff Eddie had shoved underneath his dresser. Rosemary stifled a laugh and went back to the music. She really didn’t recognize any of the names aside from Metallica because obviously everyone knew who they were. “Isn’t it Satan’s music?” She said satirically prompting a snort.

“Yes, yes it is.” Eddie said bluntly before a smile leaked on to his face, “And what music do angels listen to, pray tell.”

Red flooded Rosemary’s cheeks, she didn’t want to tell him. His music tastes were different amd unique, “Umm,” she sighed before submitting to the question, “Okay, don’t laugh? I like ABBA a lot,” she remembered as a kid watching them in wonder as they danced across the stage in their bright outfits, “Steve Miller Band, Fleetwood Mac, and… the Cars, and the Police. But I really like The Cars.”

There was a silence as Eddie nodded, “Okay…” and then he laughed, “Not terrible but pretty basic.”

“Hey!” Rosemary’s blush only grew deeper, “I listen to Led Zeppelin sometimes.”

“Better,” Eddie admitted but was still laughing, “But that’s rock, not metal.”

“Pat Benatar?”

“Pop/rock.” Eddie was grinning as Rosemary tried to come up with something to relate to in music. “Hey, listen, at least we both can agree that Heat of the Moment is a good song.” That brought a smile to Eddie’s face.

“True.” Rosemary gave in, “I guess we don’t really have to like the same music.” She laughed, feeling silly, “but maybe some time you could teach me what songs are good?”

That made him swallow hard, “Y-yeah.” Why is that the hottest thing a girl has ever said to me?

Interesting, Rosemary decided to take that as a cue to move closer to Eddie, biting her lip a little and looking up at him through her eyelashes, “Why don’t you pick something out right now?” She said, her tone lower than before.

Why is she looking at me like that? She looks so hot right now Eddie whined internally, No she doesn’t mean anything by it, she just wants me to pick out some music. “Okay.”

Jesus Christ this guy couldn’t catch a hint.

He picked out an album and set it into his record player while Rosemary went back to sit on the bed, “it’s kinda hot in here,” she remarked, “are you okay if I take my sweater off?” When he shook his head, Rosemary pulled off the heavy sweater and threw it to the side.

Jesus fucking Christ. Eddie thought as he saw the white ribbed tank top she had on underneath. Even worse, the lack of bra. And even worse he knew how good her tits looked underneath that tank top, the image from the van the week before was seared in his brain. He had used the memory shamelessly twice already to help fall asleep.

Rosemary turned red at that thought, never imagining that someone would think of her while doing… that. But the thought made her thighs press together tightly. Eddie coughed and looked away but Rosemary was tired of his modesty. “You can look.” Her voice was barely above a mumble but Eddie heard it all the same.

And look he did. Eddie would never say no to that. He looked at the way her tank top hugged every contour of her body, the deep neck that offered him a view of the valley between her breasts. Eddie licked at his dry lips when his eyes fell on her nipples, clearly visible through the sheer clothing. Eddie sighed, “Angel, you have no idea how good you look. The things I want to do to you.” He breathed out.

Feeling less timid, Rosemary let her fingers run up the side of her body until they reached the straps of her top before letting one drop off the side of her shoulder. “Tell me.”

Eddie didn’t waste a moment, coming to sit by her legs, “I would fucking love to rip these tights apart.” He groaned when Rosemary let down the other strap on her shirt. The only thing that held the top up now was the curve of her tits, which Eddie was more than ready to see now. “Have you ever had sex before?” Eddie asked, pulling himself out of all the different scenarios he was playing out in his head.

Rosemary shook her head, looking at him with her big eyes.

“What about… has anyone ever touched you before?” Eddie bit his lip when she shook her head again, “Not even yourself?” He said in bewilderment and Rosemary turned red, shrugging her shoulders causing the shirt to drop down even lower. It was barely hanging on now. “What’s that mean?” Eddie laughed.

“I tried once.” Rosemary whispered and he raised an eyebrow at her, “This week. I- I tried but I didn’t know what I was doing.”

She wondered if he would find it unattractive that she was so inexperienced but his thoughts said otherwise.

Fuck, she’s so fucking innocent. Is it wrong that gets me so hard? The thought of making her cum is driving me crazy.

His dirty thoughts rattled her body and Rosemary swallowed hard before pulling her tank top down around her wait, “Could you show me how it’s supposed to feel?” She asked.

Eddie grinned devilishly, “Hell yes.” He hissed, coming to hover over her before kissing her hard. His hand snaked around to cradle her neck, and Rosemary succumbed to his touch. His other hand was touching her bare stomach, but it quickly began the task of unbuttoning her skirt. He pulled back for a breath of air and to see her flushed face, “take the skirt off.”

Looping her fingers into both her skirt and tights, she pulled them both off in one fell swoop, leaving her with her tits exposed, her tank top rolled down beneath her breasts and in her deep scarlet silk panties that she’s discreetly purchased at the mall earlier that week.

Gulping hard, Eddie drank her in. She looked pornographic laying there like that. Especially when he reached forward and unclipped her hair.

“You’re fucking with me right now.” He muttered, and Rosemary blushed.

“What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, “Those panties? No bra? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you came here to seduce me.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she smirked.

“Maybe I just like red.”

“Works for me.” Eddie’s tongue darted across his lips, “Works really fucking well for me.” His knuckles began to trail up her thighs softly. Eventually they reach her underwear and they hook into the delicate fabric. Rosemary’s breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat. Eddie’s eyes never left her but sensing her nerves he kneaded her hip between his fingers, “Gonna make you feel so good.” He promised, “I want you to tell me how good it feels.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine and before she had time to process her sudden feelings, he was sliding her panties down her smooth satin legs.

The air he sucked in was fast when he saw her bare before him. And he meant bare. “Did you clean up for me angel?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded innocently and Eddie groaned, his pants so very uncomfortable at the moment. He slowly lowered himself and spread Rosemary’s legs, kissing each freckle he found on the way up to her center. Her eyes followed his every move, her bottom lip tucked painfully between her teeth.

“Eddie,” she breathed when his lips finally caressed her cunt. Whatever thought she had was immediately cast out when he took a long, drawn out lick. Rosemary’s eyes rolled back and he back ticked a little, a whimper falling from her mouth.

His eyes never left hers as he dove right in, slow and steady at first, letting Rosemary savor the feeling he was sure from her reactions she’d never felt before. But he needed more from her, Eddie needed her to need him.

That steady pace quickly became ravenous as he sank into her fervently. Eddie smirked in satisfaction when her hips jutted up against him and he sank his ringed fingers into her fatty thighs to hold her down. His other hand snaked up to her breast, grabbing at the sensitive flesh there. “Easy there, angel. Does it feel good?” Eddie asked, kissing her pink folds.

The room felt so hot and musty so it didn’t surprise him that when Rosemary nodded, her hair line was a little damp.

“I need to hear you.” Eddie growled against her, his tongue darting back out to tease her. Rosemary was about to reply when she felt him sink a finger inside of her, his tongue still deliciously going at her clit. A rattled gasp came from her mouth and Eddie tutted, “Come on, angel, tell me how it feels.”

“Shit.” Rosemary finally found her voice, it was higher pitched and shakier than normal, she didn’t even recognize herself, “It feels so good, Eddie. It-It feels really good.”

She’s being so fucking beautiful. Look at how she moves for me, and those sounds. Heavenly.

Rosemary blushed, not that anyone could tell by how flushed her entire body was. Eddie was making her feel amazing physically and maybe it was just the hormones but was it normal to feel like she was floating? To feel both weighed down and weightless?

A second finger entered her soaking hole and Rosemary’s back arched up off the mattress, a shallow moan echoing the room as Eddie pumped his long calloused fingers in and out. “Yeah, just like that angel, make some noise for me.”

There was a coiling feeling in her stomach, a heat that kept building. Rosemary struggled for words between her gasps, “Eddie, I-I think- I feel like-“ her words were lost when he curves his fingers upwards, touching a spot inside her that had her gripping the sheets desperately and letting out what almost sounded like a sob. That heat that had been building suddenly hit a boiling point and Rosemary felt ecstasy flood her body, her climax racking through her chest.

Eddie was watching it all with an almost evil glint in his eye. His hand that wasn’t pulling the last few moments of Rosemary’s climax from her was splayed across her sternum, one of her hands clawing into his wrist as she tried to catch her breath. Jesus Christ, I am not done with you Rosemary Price.

After a moment, Rosemary’s eyes fluttered back open but her breathing was still labored, “Eddie,” she sighed heavily, “Please. I-I need more of you.” She had picked her words carefully and Eddie didn’t wait a second.

Freeing his throbbing cock from her pants, Eddie lined himself up with Rosemary’s core and began to rub the head against her folds, beads of precum mixing with her slick.

Eddie could hardly wait to push himself in, his cock twitching at the thought. The way Rosemary was looking at him drove him insane, so sweet but so expectant.

Everything halted with three heavy raps against Eddie’s front door.

Rosemary and Eddie both froze. Maybe I imagined it? Please God, let that not have been my front door.

More heavy hands fall against his front door and Eddie’s head drops to hand below his shoulders. “Give me one second.” Eddie says apologetically and Rosemary nods.

“It’s okay.”

Once Eddie zipped back up and bolted out of the room, Rosemary let out a heavy sigh before her heart started to race. Holy shit, she had been literally seconds away from letting Eddie Munson take her virginity. And now she was feeling… disappointed that it didn’t happen?

The intention had been to wait there until Eddie got back but Rosemary suddenly heard someone enter the apartment and arguing ensued. Not wanting to get found literally naked, Rosemary threw on her tights and her skirt and grabbed the closest thing to cover her breasts, which happened to be one of Eddie’s band t-shirts which was way too big on her.

Rosemary got up off the mattress and went to stand behind Eddie’s bedroom door.

“No, no, no! Tabs, I get that it’ll only be an hour but I cannot watch him! I-I have plans!” That was Eddie speaking.

And Tabs was apparently a woman by the sound of her voice, “Eddie, please, Ronnie ran off with his buddies on another bender and there is no one else home tonight. And if I don’t leave right now the store will close and James won’t have diapers until Monday.”

Rosemary could hear the desperation in the woman’s voice. But also the panic in Eddie’s thoughts.

I know she doesn’t have another option but what am I supposed to do? There’s no way she’d be okay with a baby crashing tonight.

Rosemary slowly opened the door to Eddie’s room and stepped out tentatively.

Tabs was apparently a thirty year old woman with long red hair and an exhausted look on her face. In her arms was a baby, probably around nine months old, with caramel brown hair. That must be James.

Eddie was palming his face and looked beyond frustrated.

The mother saw Rosemary emerge and color flushed her cheeks as she suddenly realized the situation. Shit! Tonight was the date with the girl he was talking about. I forgot! I probably just ruined everything he’s been excited about for a week. But underneath her initial thoughts, Rosemary felt her anxieties bubbling in her stomach, a mothers concern of what she was supposed to do.

“Oh,” Tabs blinked, “I-I’m so sorry to interrupt.” She looked at Eddie, who looked mortified by this whole situation. “You know what, Eddie? I can just go to the store on my lunch break tomorrow-“

“You work at Clarence’s?” Rosemary piped up, nodding towards the woman’s work uniform.

“Yeah.” Tabs shifted the baby onto her other shoulder.

Rosemary stepped forward and held her hands out, “The market is on the complete opposite side of town, you won’t get diapers and have time to eat tomorrow. Go ahead, we can watch him.”

Eddie’s face morphed from embarrassment to shock. Wait, is she really-

The mother blinked at her, “You guys are busy-“

“We’re watching a movie,” Rosemary shrugged, looping her hands under baby James’ arms, “Nothing James can’t sit and watch with us. And besides, my summer job is working at the daycare over by Main Street. You have nothing to worry about, and an hour really isn’t that long.” She pulled the little boy from his mothers arms gently, turning him around and tucking him against her shoulder.

Tabs was in shock, “Are you sure?” She glanced at Eddie for help but he was still watching wide-eyed from the side.

“Here,” With her one free arm, Rosemary offered the exhausted mother a slice of pizza from the box, “It can’t cure husbands on benders, but it does cure hunger.” She grinned and Tabs gratefully took a slice.

“Thank you.” Tabs looked guilty but quickly ducked out of the trailer and rushed out to her car.

Then it was just the three of them. Rosemary, Eddie and James.

Eddie sighed heavily, leaning against the counter and rubbing the back of his neck, “Tonight has really… not gone according to plan.” He scoffed. “I’m sorry, she- she leaves him here sometimes with Wayne cause her husband is a piece of shit.”

James shifted in Rosemary’s arms and she shuffled him so he was lying in her hands’ makeshift cradle, swaying on her hips gently. “What, you don’t ever help out with him?” Rosemary teased.

“Noooo.” Eddie laughed, “I have no idea what makes a baby tic.” He watched as she brushed a tiny fine curl out of the pudgy baby’s face and couldn’t help the little smile forming on his face, “Apparently you do though. You mean to tell me you’re good with kids too?”

It was kind of impossible for her to be bad with babies, she always knew what they wanted. Rosemary liked listening to baby thoughts because they were always so simple, more like sensations really, sometimes mixed with images. Like right now, baby James had an image of his mother feeding him a few minutes ago fueling his

milk drunk expression.

“Back in um, in the bad place, there were lots of kids there. I was one of the older ones, so I had to take care of them.” Rosemary always told him a watered down version of the truth when talking about the Lab.

“Jesus,” He stared at her, “one of these days you’re gonna tell me what shithole you grew up in and I’m going to go burn it down.”

…

Doctor Zhivago was playing quietly on the tv and the three of them had settled back on Eddie’s bed. The two teenagers sat side by side and the baby playing with the strands of Rosemary’s hair.

Rosemary was trying desperately not to think about what had happened in this room not even twenty minutes before while Eddie couldn’t think of anything else.

“I’d heard this was a good romance but it’s kind of boring.” Eddie laughed dryly and Rosemary looked at him, “I’m sorry tonight kind of went off the rails from beginning to end.”

Rosemary touched her fingers to his, “I had an amazing night. I still am!” She pinched James’ cheek playfully and a gleeful coo bubbled from him. “The boy I like and a cute baby? What more can I ask for?”

“Good to know you still like me after all of this.” Eddie smirked, but he squeezed her fingers tightly. “Although, maybe crashing the party was a good thing.” His face seemed distant and panic sprung up in Rosemary’s chest. Had they done something he didn’t like? Did he realize he didn’t like her? Rosemary searched his face and he turned to her, “I like you Rosemary. So much. And I was about to fuck you like your first time didn’t matter.”

“It was the… heat of the moment?” Rosemary suggested with a lighthearted giggle. She was just relieved to hear that he liked her. “But I like you too Eddie. I-I’ve had a crush on you for a long time, and the past couple times that I spent time with you only made me like you more. I wouldn’t have minded if you took my virginity. I-I- Well, I would prefer it if I’m speaking honestly.” Blush splattered against her cheeks and Eddie kissed where it appeared.

“If you want it to be me I will gladly oblige, but I want to make it special for you. Not on my dirty sheets.” He rolled his eyes. “And hopefully with someone who you deeply care about.” Her brows scrunched in confusion and Eddie looked deep into her eyes, “When I fuck you, Rosemary Price, you will not just like me. I will not cross that line with you until I can tell you I love you while making you cum around me.” His words made her start to sweat at how sultry yet sweet they sounded. Like tobacco dripping with honey.

“Eddie, I-“

“We’re not there yet, obviously.” Eddie laughed, “I mean it is our first date after all. But I intend to give you the best I can, Rosemary. And if you’ll have me, I’ll take you there.”

Rosemary blinked, “Is this all you asking for a second date?” She asked coyly and he laughed.

“Second, third, fourth.” He hummed, “This is me asking for a chance.”

“Granted.”

A loud coo echoed in the room and they looked down. James was staring at Eddie, arms outstretched, “I… don’t know what you want from me.” Eddie laughed nervously and Rosemary rolled her eyes.

“Are you really afraid of a baby?” She inquired and Eddie bit his lip.

“Is it wrong to say a little bit?” Before he could say anything, Rosemary was handing the baby over to Eddie’s lap. “Wait, no!” Too late, James was already plopped down into his lap. James looked around before leaning forward, a little too top heavy to sit up on his own.

“Hold him up!” Rosemary’s laugh rang through the room and Eddie robotically moved to hold the baby by his arm pits.

A moment passed before James let out a little whine followed by the beginnings of a sob. “He doesn’t like me.” Eddie said flatly, already wanting to give up.

“No.” Rosemary grinned, reading the infants thoughts, “He doesn’t like to be held by his armpits, put your hands on his ribs.” Eddie followed her instructions and instantly the cry stopped. James lifted his fat arms up towards Eddie. “He wants to see you, you’re too far away from him.”

“What are you, the baby whisperer?” Eddie laughed before leaning down a little. Instantly James gripped Eddie’s cheek in his chubby little fists, letting out little happy squeals. Eddie couldn’t stop the smile that broke out at the sound, although he tried. “Whatever, he’s kind of cute.”

“Kind of?!” Rosemary faked offense, “Look at those thunder thighs!” She exclaimed before jolting forward to blow raspberries into the baby’s legs resulting in even more shrieks of glee. Eddie couldn’t look away from the scene unfolding around him. This was something he wanted in his future, he realized. Maybe a big house wasn’t in the cards, or a nice car, or being a giant rock superstar although he would still hope and dream and work for those things.

But would a little home be so bad? Echoing with the sound of baby laughter, him strumming on his guitar with a chubby legged baby crawling around on top of him. A wife there to talk to, to confide in, to dream with. And maybe that house was small, and cramped but teeming with love. Maybe there was a garden out front. And maybe that wife had freckles and a tattoo on her wrist. And maybe it was everything he didn’t have growing up. That they didn’t have.

Eddie had to shake his head out of his silent daydream, it was too much to ever hope for, but he would guard that little dream in a secret part of his heart.

Just in case.

…

The hour ticked by almost in slow motion and Eddie was feeling more and more comfortable around the tiny person. Rosemary was explaining to him how to speak ‘baby’.

“And when he makes a face like he’s doing a hard math problem, that means he’s pooping.” Rosemary instructed, her fingers gently stroking James’ silky hair in a soothing manner as Eddie helped him to stand.

“You mean like that one?” Eddie asked and sure enough, little James looked like he was trying to remember the quadratic formula.

Just as the knock on the door came.

“Perfect timing!” Eddie jumped up, James under his arm damn near like a football. But when Rosemary read the baby’s thoughts, he seemed to like it. But only from Eddie. Weird.

Tabs was back, carrying a grocery bag full of diapers and formula. Rosemary was watching quietly from the doorway as Eddie handed James over. The boys mother attempting handing out a ten dollar bill while letting out a string of ‘thank you’s.

But Eddie shook his head rapidly, “Nah, it’s okay.” He handed her back the money, “And I um, I just have band practice tomorrow at five, so if you wanted to drop him off until then, I should be able to handle it.” Rosemary lifted an eyebrow in surprise but stayed silent. As the door was closing Eddie threw out one last request, “I’ll take the money for tomorrow though!”

He turned to find her staring at him, leaning against the door frame, “So not so afraid of babies anymore?” Rosemary asked with a smile.

“No, I am. Just love to torment myself. Makes for good music.” Eddie smirked. “Anyways, I believe I promised your mom to get you home at a reasonable hour.”

“It’s only ten.” Rosemary pouted.

“Oh I plan on making out in the car for at least an hour before letting you inside your house.”

…

It had been more like an hour and a half.

Rosemary was laying in her bed as the morning light warmed her cheek. It was Monday morning and she didn’t want to wake up. School sounded like a drag but it had been such a good weekend.

Eddie had made good on his promise and they had made out in his car before he walked her to the door and pressed a final kiss to the top of her head.

The gardening had gotten done, she’d woken up extra early to take on a special project before the rest of Hawkins woke up.

Saturday night was spent playing Dungeons and Dragons with the boys. Will had made good on his promise, it was an epic campaign that had taken over 12 hours to complete. Thorn had leveled up a lot which made her very proud of both herself and her party. Rosemary smiled thinking about how she and Dustin had miraculously defeated Lord Soth’s army, although he had banished Thorn to an alternate dimension. Next campaign was how the party was going to get her back. Lucas had proclaimed that there would be no rest until the party was together again.

And on Sunday El came over; Rosemary often spent her Sundays with the girl, sure to keep the curtains closed and to take the long way through the woods so no one would see them. Rosemary’s mother taught them how to bake snickerdoodles (Rosemary burnt the batch that she was in charge of: she was a terrible baker). Rosemary had also taught El how to manage her curly hair and they made popcorn chains to hang on the Christmas tree. It really was almost like having a little sister.

But now it was time for school again. At least it was only a couple more weeks until Christmas break.

Rosemary pulled herself from her bed, a little excited to see her friends.

What a different feeling. She was going to see her friends at school today. Rosemary and Steve shared second period together, now that he knew she could read minds they had devised a way to get him the answers he needed help with (which was most of them) and they sat together at the back of class now. Most of her classes she shared with Chrissy, who in the past month had upgraded to her best friend. But after this past Friday she was worried about her. The best period of the day though was gym, because that’s when Chrissy, Jonathan, and Nancy were all with her. People who had once been strangers were now like family to her.

And obviously there was the chance of seeing Eddie in the hallways.

Throwing on a rust colored chiffon floral skirt that came just above her ankles, Rosemary quickly ran a brush through her tangled hair. Remembering to pack the sweater for Chrissy, Rosemary pulled on an oversized, heavy denim jacket over her white turtleneck. Rolled over tube socks and white keds were next before she bolted down stairs, skidding to a stop as she heard something that made her heart drop.

Coughing.

More than coughing; hacking. The kind that bends one over and racks the entire body. Just like what it was doing to her mother. Rhiannon was hunched over the counter, trying desperately to catch her breath.

“Mom!” Rosemary rushed over, soothing rubbing her mothers back, giving light taps to try and help whatever was coming up along.

When Rhiannon pulled away the rag she was coughing into, phlegm and blood soaked the fabric.

They stared at each other for a moment, glancing down at the rag as Rhiannon tried to calm her breathing. “Rosemary…”

“It’s ok mom.” Rosemary threw her arms around her mother, tears rushing down her cheeks, “I know.” Her mother was sobbing, grabbing her daughter like she needed her to stay standing. “I found the papers in your closet.” Rosemary was choking back her own sobs.

“I’m sorry.” Was all her mother could say, mixed with strings of ‘I love you’.

Rosemary broke away to grab her mother a glass of water, “I’m going to be late.” She sighed, “But let’s talk when I get home, okay? We can make hot chocolate and wrap Christmas presents, like always.”

Her mother could only nod, and feeling guilty that she could stay, Rosemary bolted out the door.

The walk to school went quickly as Rosemary thought solely about what she could possibly say to her mother that would be enough.

Crossing the street in front of Hawkins High, her thoughts were cut off when a car honked at her making the girl jump about three feet in the air.

A familiar head of long wavy hair was laughing in the driver's seat. Rosemary rolled her eyes and walked over to the driver's window. “Good morning to you too, Eddie Munson.” She smirked before she spotted Garreth in the passenger seat, “Morning Garreth.”

I still can’t believe Eddie managed to get her to acknowledge him, let alone go on a date with him. What the fuck even is this world we live in?

Metal was playing loudly in the car but Eddie could hear Rosemary perfectly, “Let me see your fingers.” He said with a grin and Rosemary held them out hesitantly. Eddie picked them up and inspected, “Just as I thought, there’s a lot of dirt under these finger nails.” Rosemary blushed, looking down at the ground to hide the red, “And what’s more, I came strolling out of my trailer on Saturday morning and there’s this weird area boxed in next to my porch. The dirt was all turned over and fresh.”

“I don’t know anything about-“

His finger pulled her chin up to look him in the face. Eddie was grinning from ear to ear, “Now you tell me, angel, if I were to dig down in that fresh dirt, would I find tulip bulbs?”

“You said you wanted a garden out front.” Rosemary said bashfully and Eddie laughed aloud.

“I hate to interrupt this love fest, but we’re gonna be late for home room and Eddie already has detention this week so…” Also I don’t think I can handle much more of this. My grasp on reality is starting to slip.

Deciding to release the captive of his torture, Rosemary took a step back, “See you inside, Munson.” She said with a small salute and Eddie made a teasing kiss face before driving off.

When Rosemary stepped inside the halls of the school she made a bee line for her locker. Only to find Chrissy frantically trying to get inside. Come on, come on! She’ll be here any minute! I don’t want her to see whatever is inside of here! The combo should be 09-17-23! Her thoughts were rife with panic.

Something was wrong.

“Chrissy, what’s going on?” Chrissy about jumped out of her uniform. She turned to face Rosemary, her eyes wide, “What’s wrong with my locker?” Rosemary was glancing from the locker to Chrissy.

“I wanted to get into it before you got here.” Chrissy said desperately, “Jason said he heard some of the older basketball teammates talking about how they did something to your locker. Something bad.” She seemed on the verge of tears, “I was trying to get rid of whatever it was before you saw it.”

It was at that moment that Steve Harrington pushed through the sea of students, half out of breath, and slammed against the wall next to them, making them both jump. “I came as soon as I heard,” He was in his basketball uniform, they had a game that night, “I had nothing to do with whatever is in there, Rose, I swear it.”

Rosemary swallowed hard, she’d never been the victim of something like this before, “Well, I guess we can only open it and see what they did.” She reached forward and Steve stopped her.

“You put the combo in and I’ll open it.” Steve said with a hand on the handle.

Nodding, Rosemary twisted the dial back and forth until that familiar click sounded and she took a half step back as Steve swung it open.

The step back had been a good idea because what looked like popcorn came pouring out of her locker, making a pile on the ground. Kids in the hallway suddenly stopped and began to stop and stare at her locker, and then at Rosemary.

“Oh my god.” Chrissy turned away and Steve had a hand on Rosemary’s shoulder.

Rosemary didn’t understand for a moment until on further inspection she realized that it wasn’t popcorn. It was tufts of feathers, held together in clumps by what seemed like glue and…

Oh.

That wasn’t ketchup.

The word ‘freak!’ had been spray painted in green on the inside door of her locker. The chicken blood wasn’t just infused with the feathers, it looked like they had poured it onto her books as well. Even now it was dripping onto the floor in front of her.

And then there was the doll. It was a stuffed bunny, its button eyes had been plucked out and the word slut was written in sharpie across its torso, along with some crude depictions of tits. And as if it couldn’t get worse, the bunny was hanging by its neck, head lulling to the side, by a piece of twine from the top of the locker.

Rosemary could hear kids around her gagging in disgust and Chrissy was holding on to her arm, “Those assholes! When I find out who did this-“

“I have a pretty good idea.” Steve grumbled, staring down the hallway. Rosemary followed his gaze and sure enough, there he was. Billy. Billy made eye contact with her and blew her a kiss.

So he remembered what she had said to him. Rosemary focused to try and hear his thoughts from the far distance but it was hard.

Don’t know how… knew about… teach you to keep my moms name out… mouth… don’t worry, stupid bunny bitch… I promised no more messin… consider this… one last hoorah.

Anger and embarrassment were boiling up inside her and she didn’t realize her eyes were stinging with tears until Steve pulled her so she wasn’t looking at Billy. “I’m gonna get coach to pull him from the game tonight.”

But his words were lost on her as Rosemary spotted someone else in the crowd. He stood a little taller than most of the other kids and was staring wide eyed at the locker and then back at her.

Eddie.

And he looked shocked, upset, sad, and extremely pissed off. Rosemary could feel those emotions oozing off of him from across the hallway. When he made eye contact with her, Eddie could only shake his head before turning his back on her and rushing away.

The tears were threatening to fall, “I’m so-sorry guys, I need to go!” Rosemary said shakily before pushing through the crowd to try and follow Eddie.

Ahead of her she could see him storm out of the doors to the school and Rosemary trailed after him, not caring when she ran into the students flooding in the opposite direction.

“Eddie, wait!” She called after him, practically having to run to catch up to him in the parking lot. He was refusing to look at her and Rosemary finally reached him in the middle of the concrete she had to grab his arm to make him stop.

The moment she did, Eddie shook her off before turning around, “What are you doing?” Eddie hissed and she was shocked to see that he was angry.

“What do you mean? Eddie, why are you mad at me-?”

“I’m not fucking mad at you,” Eddie snapped and Rosemary blinked in shock, “I’m mad at myself.” She didn’t understand. “I’m mad that I thought I could be seen with someone like you and nothing negative would happen to you because of it.”

Rosemary realized that Eddie thought from the ‘freak’ thing that this has happened to her because of him. Because she had been seen with him, “Eddie, it’s not like that-“

“No?!” Eddie interrupted her, “What’s it like then? We get seen together a couple times, you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and suddenly the same insult is being written in your locker? That’s some coincidence.”

“Eddie-“ Rosemary didn’t know what to say, “May-maybe it’s about something else?” In fact she knew it was. It had nothing to do with Eddie and everything to do with her losing her cool and fucking with Billy and now he was fucking with her back. But Rosemary couldn’t tell him that, not without exposing herself for what she truly was. But she couldn’t risk it, not when it would put El at risk too.

“Oh come on, Rosemary.” Eddie rolled his eyes, “You and I are both a lot of things but neither of us are fucking stupid.” Rosemary winced at his harsh tone, she didn’t like this. “You existed in this school for how long without any problems and after one date there a goddamn exploded chicken in your locker.” Eddie ran his hand through his hair frantically, “Jesus Christ, how could I have been so stupid to think this could work?”

That sentence left Rosemary frozen in shock and hurt. “What do you mean?” She said quietly, he feet shuffling, “Eddie, I don’t care about being called a freak-“

“I care! Rosemary, I care!” Eddie was practically hysterical and trying to read his thoughts was difficult, they were moving to fast and anxiously to understand. “I care because you have been through enough in your life. And without me, your life is better. You have Chrissy, and Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington and Nancy Wheeler as your friends. You get invited to parties and people ask to borrow your sweaters.” He spat, “I don’t want to be the reason your life goes to shit. Don’t ask me to carry that on my shoulders.”

Rosemary tried to form words but could barely think, “But,” she finally stuttered out, “I thought you liked me?” All she wanted right now was a moment of consolation and reassurance.

Eddie stared at her for a second. It’s better for her if you stay away. Say the meanest thing you can think of. “Rosemary, you sucked my dick once in my van. If I need that I can get it from just about anyone. I like you as much as I like any other girl who can offer me that.”

“Oh.”

She knew he was saying it because in some twisted way he believed he was sparing her. And Rosemary could tell from his thoughts that he instantly regretted saying that. But it didn’t matter. It was a lie, but even lies can hit the bullseye of insecurity.

“Well, in that case…” Rosemary was studying the ground, lip quivering as she refused to meet his eyes. “I um- I-I-“

Fuck. Why did I say that? That was way harsher than I needed to be. I got too worked up, I just don’t want to see them making her life a living hell like they make mine. “Rosemary-“

“No.” Rosemary shook her head, shaking loose a couple tears, “I- I have to go clean up my locker. You don’t owe me an apology for what you said. After all, I’m just some girl who sucked your dick, right?” She sniffled, wiping her tears on the back of her sleeve.

No. No. What have I done? “Wait, I-“

But Rosemary had already turned on her heel and walked away.

Run after her, you idiot.

Run after me. Rosemary pleaded silently, her tears running freely now. Don’t leave me like this.

But Eddie Munson stayed frozen in place, feeling like nothing but a coward.

Tags: @copaceticwriter @endercherries @hellv1ra

#eddie smut #eddie munson #eddie x oc #st4 #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie au #eddie my beloved #eddie the freak munson #oc #eddie fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie angst #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things s4

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dementedfilament · 2 years

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Redacted - Listener OCs

I’ve been debating on posting all my Listeners or not, since some I don’t headcanon with nearly as much as others, but I finally decided: heck, why not?

Since I don’t have decent sketches of all of them, I’m going to post the picrews that I made that I used as inspiration for their designs from. I didn’t make these with any idea in mind, just bumbled around picrew, found one that looked neat or followed a link someone sent me, and halfway through making a character I went “huh that gives me [insert listener here] vibes”. Don’t ask me who, why, where, or how I made any sort of connections to the characters with these designs. Just know that it happened.

Angel - Angie Corina

- I don’t like how mean David is, so I've skipped most of his videos. As a result, I don’t have much on my version of Angel. “Angie” came up out of necessity for my Inversion fic, and it’s just kind of stuck. However, from the little I have heard of him, whether in his own series or in others, I had a very vivid image of what Angel looked like in my head for some reason. I actually made her picrew recently just for the sake of this post, lol.

I have a small headcanon that she maybe started learning a little bit of Spanish and Hindi after meeting Baaabe and Sweetheart.

Baaabe - Emmanuel, “Em” by some, “Emmy” by his sister

- He’s having a lot of problems with his family (namely his step-father), and has to babysit his step-sister Lilia a lot. However, Lilia likes to spend time with him and Asher, and Asher absolutely adores her. He’s Hispanic and bilingual (English+Spanish), and sometimes I imagine him working as a mechanic. Also, he can do some sick tricks with a yo-yo. I don’t headcanon any major stuff with this trio, mostly just small slice-of-life things. Asher and Em being dorks, them taking Lilia to a pride parade, etc.

Sweetheart - Chrysalis “Chrys” Prasad

- A goth/punk at heart, Chrys has a set of rings they never leave without. They’re probably at least bilingual as well (English+Hindi). They’re currently trying to figure out their gender identity, and is unsure if they should fully transition or not. For the time being, they wear a binder and braid up their hair when they go out or have visitors, or when the dysphoria hits.

Chrys is pretty timid and shy when around anyone that’s not Milo, but when they put their work coat on, they go into Work Mode and can muster the courage to even stand up to high-ranking officers from the Department. They become a completely different person on-duty, and take their job very seriously. They'll also pin up their bangs before going into work.

Sometimes I imagine that Chrys keeps a pair of brass knuckles on them, and will practice boxing alongside Milo as a stress/anger-reliever.

Lovely - Gracie, “Grace” by some

- Gracie is that student that always looks stylish and is always on time. She’s a hard worker and low-key perfectionist (maybe that’s why vampires are so appealing to her?). I imagine her as a bookworm, and maybe really into the Dark Academia aesthetic. As of the events of Inversion - Another Story, she cut off the burnt ends of her hair and is trying to grow it back out. (I remade her picrew just for fun to show that, lol.)

Contrary to canon, Gracie doesn’t like the idea of becoming a vampire and living for an eternity, and wants to stay human. The topic of turning makes her uncomfortable because she doesn’t want to disappoint Vincent with the truth. While I don’t know if I would really write it out, I plan to have it to where Vincent would eventually stop asking about turning her, and simply stay by her side until she passes away from old age.

Darlin’ - Willow

- She’s known for her cute face and rough attitude. When out and about, she sports leather jackets and rides a polished motorcycle, causing trouble and picking fights to find Quinn. When not causing trouble, she drives an old pickup truck. Contrary to canon, she and Sam aren’t together, and in fact she’s still hung up on her past relationship with her now-enemy. She’s not entirely oblivious to Sam’s feelings for her, but she definitely tries to pretend they don’t exist, since she subconsciously doesn’t want to let go of her old love. (Tbh I see these two remaining as just close friends even after Quinn is taken care of, maybe hooking up for only a short period of time.)

She used to do ballet when she was little, and began practicing dance again after she met Quinn. She doesn’t like to show this side of her though, only having the idea reinforced that it’s “girly” and makes her look “weak”, which would tarnish her gruff reputation. However, after the events of Vice Versa, she’s become more comfortable with enjoying her hobby. She secretly wishes she could dance with Sam one day.

I do imagine that she has scars, but I haven’t really decided where they should be yet.

Bright Eyes - Briar “Bri”

- The almighty pouty princess, she was formerly the daughter of a wealthy family who got everything she wanted except their genuine love. Wrapped up in an unhealthy friendship with her crush Frederick, this only came collapsing down on them after their turning. She was also immensely jealous of Ryder, Fred’s boyfriend that, much to her chagrin, returned to Fred’s side after they became vampires.

However, the three have since made amends and are a close trio again, with Bri being more supportive of her two boys’ relationship and all of them being able to hang out without any tension between them. (Since their story doesn’t exist on the channel anymore, I figured I’d just skip the drama so they could partake in other fics if I need/want them to.) She also sees Sam as much of a father figure as Fred does now.

Unbeknownst to most, she’s been forming something of a friendship with Alexis.

(I don’t know how I make sense of her hair from this when I draw her but I do somehow.)

Freelancer - Cora

- The self-acclaimed gambling master, she is a kooky mess that loves to let loose and relax, despite how often she does not do that thing. She’s terrible at forming bonds since she has a bad habit of clinging to people who are even a little nice to her, even if they hurt her. However, Gavin and her new friends are there to keep the bad people away, of course. Damien gets onto her a lot for staying up all night and neglecting her health. She’s a very “no thoughts, head empty” type of person, and moves to her own beat.

Though I love Cora to death in my fanon, as of Inversion - Another Story, her fate is unknown. I’ve barely even continued personal headcanons about the choice between saving her life or Huxley’s instead (nor have I thought about what would happen to Angie). I don’t know if I could truly make that decision, hence why Vincent’s progeny remains “Vincent’s progeny” in the William letters series.

Starlight - Stella

- Curious to a fault, Stella was...actually I don’t headcanon her that much now that I think about it, since she’s just been stuck in one place the whole time I guess. It’s been a while since I listened to Starlight’s early videos, I don’t remember what canon info we have of them actually. Most of my headcanons are about various happenings regarding the Meridian, which are usually angsty, lol.

Sunshine - Sunny

- Albino because I’m cruel like that, Sunny is a sweet and quiet, albeit reckless, ray of Sunshine. She strikes me as the type of person to carry a dream journal, and generally likes journaling/writing. I actually have little on her too, since she and Elliot have been stuck in Blake’s mind prison for a while, lol. I’ve also just been focusing on the vamps far too much.

Love - Eden

- Not much for Eden outside of what’s canon. I’m not sure what direction the storyline is about to go, but I headcanon that Eden still has a fondness for Marcus. Addicted to the feelings she had before, and the affection Marcus gave her, she basically overwrites her own programming and re-codes the Obsession so she can have those feelings back.

I also have a little headcanon that “Eden” might be the name Marcus pitched for her, when they were maybe deciding on giving the Asset a proper name.

Warden - Hydra

- I don’t have too much on my Warden anymore since I changed her fairly recently. I had made this demon character before and thought passively, “She’s cute, what if she was a friend of Caelum’s?” Eventually, I began to ponder their friendship and the deliciously angsty possibility that this same demon was Vega’s Warden, and the conflict she would be in over working with the same man that hurt her friend. And thus, my old idea of Warden became Hydra instead.

And that’s it for now! There’s a couple more listeners I want to make “OCs” for but just haven’t gotten around to it, but there’s also a few I don’t intend on making since I’m not super into their storylines. I’ve been thinking about drawing them all together somehow, but I’m not sure how yet.

-Edit-

Dreamer/Blake’s Listener - Jessamine “Jessi”

- Not much on her quite yet since I’m kinda waiting for more info on his listener...but this picrew is kinda vibing with me for now.

Just kidding! Guess I’ll shove personality into her myself then!

My version of Dreamer is goofy and soft-spoken. She loves modding clothes, whether for everyday wear or cosplays, and her talent is making music. Though she uses different software for her music-making, she’s technically a drummer.

She has a younger sister, but I don’t have the details of her home/family life yet.

Honey - Amy

- A sassy and sarcastic girl that’s probably a tsundere tbh. While her boyfriend works at a pizza place, she earns her paycheck as a streamer. (Guy takes part as one of her mods sometimes.) Don’t have too much more on her since I very recently made her a thing.

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honorguk · 3 years

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dating ➔ lee felix

» navigation | REQUESTED

what it’s like to date felix from stray kids (based on my assumptions)

──────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ──────

─ • OVERALL:

“honey! i made you cookies!” (this is expected obviously)

does a lot of grandiose yet still secret gestures, like order flowers to your door without telling you

cuddles !!! holy crap i can’t stress this enough !!!

your relationship is so affectionate and romantic - it’s actually a kdrama, with a tad more westernization

*you obsessing over his silky voice*

“y/n? are you listening?” “sorry, what? say it again, babe, i couldn’t quite hear..”

looooves stroking your hair and playing with it

he’ll even make you sit down on the floor as he’s above you on the couch and will braid or brush your hair as you guys watch a movie

and you’ll paint his nails and do face masks and all of that

you guys were best friends before being lovers, and that’s always been visible in your relationship

you’d be talking shit about the same people, too, and it would get soooo dramatic

“do you even know what she said to me today?” you’d say as you stood up from the couch and raised your arms

“what did she say?” felix sat at the edge of his seat with widened eyes as he awaited your response

can’t go to sleep unless you’re with him (which makes sleeping on tour incredibly hard)

helps you with your revision and homework if you’re in school, and helps you to sort emails and paperwork if you’re older than that

you’d come to his practices with bags of food for all the boys and they’d cheer

you’re the literal mom of the group

and you’re in the stray kids group chats too

honestly your relationship is so wholesome and sweet and gentle with just enough playfulness and passion that it’s such an ideal example for everyone else

─ • DATES YOU GO ON:

prefers the typical late night Netflix session since he barely has any time to lounge, and prefers to lounge with you

or you go out to get takeaway from a nearby kebab place or something, fully in your sweats and jumpers

rarely it’s a fancy outing, but when it happens, he wears a white dress shirt that you always end up in at the end of the night

but yeah, video game competitions, snacks, and fuzzy socks

bro like a grocery shopping trip is a date (he’ll make you ride the shopping cart and film you fall over and then ditch the isle in laughter)

(but he will come pick you up afterwards and pretend to fall to lessen the embarrassment)

(because he cares)

─ • PET NAMES:

“babyyy” “sweetieeee” a lot of those sweet little nicknames that really make your heart thump

also a lot of ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’

i see you calling him ‘kitten’ often which he secretly adored but it makes him blush every time

he has you in his phone as ‘sweetheart <3’ which is just so gay and so cute

─ • WHILE ON TOUR:

honestly, the kid’s so focused on work he barely had time to pick up his phone :(

he tries his best to respond to everything, but he really, really can’t

yet, that means that when he comes back home from tour the time spent together will be so much more special (you two lowkey love missing each other)

he will buy so many little gifts and souvenirs and keep a few stray posters and merchandise pieces he found for when he greets you again

the company allowed him to talk to you on the V-Live app since that’s when you’d tune in for sure, and he would have full blown conversations with you just through chat (or try to)

that’s also when when people found out you two were a thing, and the internet went crazy, but that’s a different story

but yeah, tour felix is on constant ‘do not disturb’ mode, but i promise you that he misses you every passing second

─ • ARGUING/MAKING UP:

felix HATES to argue and so do you, especially since he has the tendency to make faces and roll his eyes a LOT

“felix, could you please stop being so childish?” “only if you do it first” - you see what i’m talking about?

he does try to be reasonable but often fails, so arguments could get out of hand

they don’t happen often but there are times where you find yourself being sassy and shady for a minute or so, then forget about it

very pouty and whiny if it’s not that serious, but that can easily turn to groans and exclamations if the boy gets riled up

can say things he doesn’t mean because he’s still learning how to balance and compromise and understand

but the way you’ll make up is usually by felix coming to you first

whether you’ve come to visit his practice room or you’re just chilling on the couch, felix will solemnly walk towards you and pressing his forehead against your shoulder, waiting for you to hug him

if you don’t, he knew he fucked up, but most times you do, and then you’ll talk it out

gosh he’s so scared to lose you please don’t leave ;(

─ • NSFW:

in my eyes, the boy’s a switch

could go from soft to hard, dom to sub, whines to growls at any time but mostly based on your commands and preferences for the night

once he’s done he’ll often collapse on you, out of breath, and you guys would just lie there for a bit, enjoying the weight and contact of your bodies in heat

he’s the type to take off and put on your clothes back on you, but very very gently

would also bring up water and a shirt of his as part of aftercare

also very down for experiments (daddy/mommy, pet play, bondage, blindfolds, ice cubes...you name it)

loves being a sub though (and will probably let you peg him let’s be honest here)

(and maid dresses)

(and cat ears and leashes and stockings and skirts)

would also hold your hand throughout

DEFINITELY has a sadistic side!! you’ve seen his smirks on stage? how feisty he is with the members??? it’s very deep down and he barely knows it's there himself but it is there

equally masochistic, his eyes are begging for you to slap him

if you’re asking for it, and have really gotten on his nerves that day, he’ll degrade you with “my dumb little pup” and “nothing but a cumslut” “all you are is a toy”

but of course, at the end he’ll say he didn’t mean it, even though you already know that

wouldn’t end the night without telling you how much he loves you while cradling you in his arms whilst falling asleep

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duskwood-by-daylight · 3 years

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Here It Goes Again

When you were feeling a little left out, Thor invited you to visit Asgard with him. Probably should've told somebody you were leaving, though. Part of the Breathe Mercy verse.

Warnings: intoxication, cursing, you and Thor are basically giant children

Word count: 1000ish

A/N: Sorry it's been a hot minute. I'll be adding a playlist to go with this sooner or later. As always, 18+, minors DNI. Don't steal or copy or whatever. Feedback always appreciated.

"Where the hell have you been?"

So you might have taken a few days off to hang out with Thor and now Tony is waiting in the lounge, arms crossed like an angry father. At the time, everyone else had been gone on missions, leaving you alone. Of course, you weren't forbidden to leave but there really wasn't anywhere to go since you moved into your workplace. Thor dropped by and offered to show you his homeland and of course, I'll go! It sounds so fun! had been the kickoff to three days of partying, Asgard-style. Meeting all of his friends, dancing, and a lot of drinking. A LOT. Thor assured you he let the rest of the team know you were safe and would be home soon.

You can't be certain, but Tony sounds incredibly pissed, using a tone you've only heard him use to scold Peter. You're too busy focusing on your footsteps and not face planting on the concrete floor to address him. Luckily, Thor is coherent enough to answer, "Ah, hello, friends. We've returned from Asgard. There was a party and Y/N wanted to see my home. I see you've made it safely home from your missions."

"You left three days ago!" Definitely Tony, definitely upset.

"Well, it was a big party." Drunkenly giggling, you nearly stumble, but Thor lifts you up, carrying you bridal style. You gently pat his recently braided hair. "Thank you, bestie."

"I still don't fully understand that term, love, but you say it with such endearment that it must be good." He laughs affectionately, adjusting you in his arms. He's so warm and comfy, you could almost fall asleep on him.

"You should have told us!" Again, Tony going into full Dad mode. He's so loud for such a little person.

"We did. Did you not get the raven?"

That pushes you over the edge and you both burst into hysterical laughter. As Thor turns around, you catch a glimpse of Bucky and Steve, both looking stern near the doorway. You lean up to whisper not so quietly, "Uh oh, I think we're in trouble, bestie. The old men are upset."

"It scared me to death when we got back and nobody knew where she was and she just… turns up, completely drunk and happy, days later." Bucky falls back into the chair, running his hand through his lengthening hair. "She's gonna cause me to have a stroke, Steve."

"At least she's okay." Steve sighs, leaning against the table beside him. "It's good for her to get out of this place once in a while. Since she moved in, Bruce and Tony practically keep her under lock and key."

Bucky nods, watching you giggle in Thor's grasp. "I definitely don't want her to feel like a prisoner, but I want her to stay safe."

Steve clamps his hand over Bucky's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I know, Buck. Don't be too hard on her. She's still new to all of this. I'm gonna talk to Tony."

You manage to squirm enough for Thor to let you down slowly, "Be careful, love. Slow steps."

It only takes one glance at Bucky in the armchair for your drunken animal hindbrain to decide his lap is the perfect seat. You flop down onto him and he wraps an arm across you to keep you from tumbling into the floor. "Buck-eeeeeeeeeeeee," you turn his name into a song that probably sounds a lot better in your head. "Dance with me!"

"There's no music, doll. Plus, I don't think you're coordinated enough right now."

You pout, but accept his logic. He's oddly quiet and you don't like it, not at all. You lightly paw at his arm, "Talk to meeeeee."

He pretends to be angry, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "Why should I?"

"Because you misssssssed me."

"Did I?" He deadpans, pretending he isn't completely thrilled to have you back.

"Yes!" You throw your arms around him, nuzzling against his neck. His stubble tickles you a little, but you ignore it. The familiar woodsy scent fills your nose and your brain goes fuzzy. He always smells so pretty.

"God, doll." He exhales and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. If you were sober, you would also hear the warmth in his voice.

"Of course you did. I missed you tons!"

"Well, maybe I missed you a little bit." His deep voice vibrates his chest beneath your hands. Your fingers draw random patterns on his henley, bumping over his dog tags. His shirts are so soft. "But only because I'm so used to you being a pain in my ass everyday."

"You still had Sam here for that."

"Not the same and you know it. You made me worried, sweets. Didn't know when you'd be home or if you were okay."

Teasing, you lift the chain from under his shirt, carefully tracing the metal plates. They're cool beneath your fingertips and you try to follow the pattern of his name on them. "You were worried about me. You like having me around."

He sharply inhales and Steve happens to glance over. Nobody touches Bucky's dog tags without consequence, but then again, nobody typically gets within five feet of him either. There you are, perched on his lap, clinking his tags together beneath tired fingers, face buried against his neck with him looking somewhere between terrified and completely smitten. Steve can't help but chuckle a little.

"I like you sometimes." Bucky attempts to keep his voice level and his breathing calm. Something about the intimacy of the moment is making his heart go wonky.

"You like me all the sometimes, James." Completely resting your head on his shoulder, you cover his dog tags protectively with your hand and let your eyes fall closed.

He kisses your temple, securing his hold on you as your breathing slows, "you're right, doll. All the sometimes."

The next morning, the stabbing pain behind your eyes wakes you before any alarm can ring. You manage to open your eyes enough to see Bucky sprawled beneath you, still asleep. You fell asleep on his arm and try to gently extricate yourself without waking him, knowing his arm must be completely numb by now. Your first thought is water, but on the nightstand is a bottle of water, ibuprofen, and a sleeve of crackers with a note: Wake me up if you need anything, sweets. "Damn, I love you."

The words tumble out of your mouth before you realize and while there's no way your voice was above a whisper, you feel like you screamed it. Your brain clamors with panic at your sudden declaration and your pre-existing headache. Oh shit.

#avengers fic #bucky barnes × reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #breathe mercy verse

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warmstudies · 3 years

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wednesday, august 4th, 2021

portuguese: wrote a journal entry and watched two cafezinho investigativo videos on youtube

chinese: not actually studying but i also played this game with my boyfriend where i would say a multi character word/phrase and he would have to say another word that started with the last character of my word - i’d highly recommend it, it’s really fun practice!! my italki tutor actually recommended it (she plays it with chengyu but that’s like super hard mode to me LOL)

embroidery: listed the jiji hoop on my etsy (link below!) and posted it on my embroidery instagram

healing: therapy + journaling!

🌻 grateful for getting to go to denny’s and hang out with my boyfriend

💌 braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer

🌱 pedro navaja ~ ruben blades

my etsy

my depop

#not my photo #study motivation #studyblr #100 days of productivity #100dop #cottage academia #cottagecore #cozycore #farmcore #grandmacore #portuguese langblr #learing languages #langblr #polyglot #chinese langblr #mandarin langblr

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browniefox · 3 years

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Poker Playing Family Time

@wrightfamilyweek day 6 - Routine.

The Wrights enjoy some bonding time at the Borscht Bowl Club. Can also be read on AO3 right here :)

oOo

It’s kind of a miracle that, despite it all - despite Daddy working five days a week at the Borscht Bowl Club and the other two with his Secret Project, and then Trucy (once again, in the new school year) trying to do a single show every-other weekend and then school on the weekdays - that there’s still ever a chance for Trucy to help Daddy out with his poker games.

Daddy has made some kind of deal with the Borscht Bowl Club over the years so that he’ll only take on the more serious poker players once a month; a saturday evening, the last of the month, when Trucy didn’t have a show. Trucy was more than willing to move around her schedule at the Wonder Bar as she needed to go with Daddy on those days. Daddy had told the staff he just liked bringing his daughter with him, his good luck charm. It was normal, after all these years, and none of the staff nor the usuals so much as blinked anymore at her trailing after him.

Usually, Daddy drives places now, but on Big Poker Nights, when he’s with Trucy, they walk from the office to the club. They leave right after Trucy gets home from school, walking down the street, chatting about Trucy’s school day and the bits and pieces of Daddy’s Secret Mission he’s willing or able to tell her. She rattles off the countries in the North American continent with Daddy checking her answers on the practice sheet. When she’s done, Daddy complains about annoying people he’s had to meet with or talk to - never by name - and practices a heavily-edited version of some speech with each recital of it getting goofier and goofier until they’re both laughing as they walk through the club doors, out of the warm sun and into the cold.

“Evening Phoenix, Truce,” Ms. Vanessa greets them, and Daddy makes a token effort to quiet down his laughter, “There’s an early competitor tonight. I know you don’t like other challengers on the big-shot nights, but he’s dumb and paid top dollar, so how could we say no?”

“Well, I suppose a warm-up can’t hurt,” Daddy shrugs. He looks over at Trucy, eyes half-lidded, his performance appearance in place since they left home. He nods over to the Hydeout, “You want to watch this one too, or stay up here and work on homework?”

“I’ll come along, Daddy!” Trucy chirps.

“Alright then, right this way, Wrights.” Vanessa bows comically low and leads them to the poker room. They pass by the piano on the way, and Trucy’s backpack is place on top of it. She waves to the staff and they all wave back, most of them smiling at seeing her. Daddy has said they like her more than they like him, and he’s right.

After all the times she’s been down there, Trucy could find her way to the Hydeout in the dark, which she kind of always does every time, considering the dim lighting on the stairs.

“He talked a big game when he showed up earlier today.” Vanessa says to Daddy, and he nods.

“So you’re throwing me a soft ball to start with tonight, huh?”

“Now, you of all people should know better than to assume anything about an opponent before you see them.” Vanessa half-heartedly reprimands.

“But Daddy’s gonna blow him out of the water, huh?” Trucy says and gets a chuckle from Vanessa.

“Yeah, he probably will.”

The dealer stands during the poker games, but Trucy’s extra chair is already down here. Like the other two, it’s a swivel chair, and she hops into it and twirls around a few times.

“I thought I was going up against Phoenix Wright, unbeaten Poker Champion, not some kid.” The man who’s already sitting at the table sniffs, and Daddy finally comes in through the door.

“Sorry, but these days Phoenix Wright’s also a full-time dad, I hope you can pardon my little darling being here.” It’s worded like an apology, but it’s clear that Daddy is absolutely not at all sorry about it. Trucy smiles innocently, like a perfect angel, and the man turns up his nose with a sniff and a ‘hmph’. Ah, so he’s going to be one of those guys.

“Really, letting a kid in here? Your own daughter? Well, ‘darling’, I hope you like watching your dear old dad’s reputation come to an end.” The man brags. Daddy just blinks slowly at the man, unimpressed, while Vanessa rolls her eyes and takes her place at the side of the table. Trucy rolls her chair to be next to Daddy and he ruffles her hair.

“Mr. Allen, Mr. Wright, are you both ready?” Vanessa asks, and the game starts after they both nod.

Trucy mostly keeps her eyes closed. Slipping into her tell-catching ‘mode’ comes so easily at this poker table, but she needs to be on her top form for the real competitor later tonight. She listens as the cards are shuffled, as soothing and familiar as the sound of rain, and then are dealt out. She half-listens to the match as she leans against her daddy. She opens her eyes every-so-often, mostly to see where the chips are standing at the moment. Trucy catches some of Mr. Allen’s tells, big and noticeable movements most of the time that there’s absolutely no way Daddy misses.

It ends with Mr. Allen angrily flipping the table over and spitting vulgarities at Daddy while he cover’s Trucy’s ears, even though they both know she’/ already heard all those words.

“Well he seemed nice,” Daddy jokes and Trucy giggles, “Alright, let’s get some borscht, yeah?”

They spend the next four hours on the piano. Trucy is allowed - encouraged, even - to plunk around on the instrument whenever and however it suits her fancy. A small stack of extra cash grows next to him from people who refuse to listen to her daddy’s terrible music while eating. Trucy gets some homework done, taking up nearly the entire table next to Daddy that they’d used to eat dinner. As Trucy makes her way through worksheet after worksheet, the staff member on the other side of the table cycles through whoever is best at the subject. Math homework is always fun, because it always creates a whole crew of people ignoring the tables they’re supposed to be waiting and the jobs they’re supposed to be doing as they try to solve the equations. Not that Trucy usually needs all that help, but they seem to like to try either way.

You can always tell the moment when the big, important player enters the building. The staff suddenly stand up straight, all eyes on the person, ready to wait on that person like a king. Daddy gets tense, but that kind of tension nobody but Trucy ever seems to notice.

This time, it’s a large woman with a long braid of colored hair. She looks around the club with a sort of honest curiosity that’s hard to come by with people like her, and when she spots Daddy at the piano, the woman smiles and comes right over.

“Oh, Phoenix Wright! Oh my, the legend himself, in the flesh! Well, I thought I’d never be here, but here I am, and there you are! Oh, right at the piano, just like they said you’d be! You can’t play, right? Or is it ‘Wright’? Hehe, do you get it?” The woman chuckles at her own pun. Daddy gives a shrug.

“I hope you didn’t come with too many expectations. Rumors have a way of getting a little out of hand.” Daddy says. Daddy never tells his challengers how true the undefeated poker champion title really is.

“Well, I mean, six years undefeated? It’s a little much to try and sell, huh?” The woman winks at Daddy and laughs again.

“Has it really been six years already. Ah, time, you cruel cruel mistress,” Daddy mourns, playing a chord on the piano. By now Vanessa has come over, and Daddy stands up, slouching with his hands in his hoodie pocket, “Well, Ms. Jackie, shall we get this show on the road?”

“Oh, of course, of course. I mean, I’ll probably stay around and try the food afterwards - do they really only have borscht here? I’ve never had it. Is it any good? What does it taste like? - but I mean, why stall? I’m so excited to see the legendary Wright in action.” Ms. Jackie rambles on as Daddy and Vanessa slowly start to head towards the Hydeout for the second time that night. Ms. Jackie walks right next to Daddy, talking about how she’s from out of state and so very excited when she heard the rumors - undefeated! Six years! How remarkable! How insane! How intriguing! - and now she was here and she was so very very excited.

It isn’t until both Daddy and Ms. Jackie have taken their seats that Ms. Jackie seems to even notice Trucy as she takes her own, the chair already right next to Daddy.

“Oh, and who is this little angel?! Oh my, isn’t she just precious with her little cape!” Ms. Jackie coos to Trucy.

“I’m Trucy Wright. I like watching my daddy play poker. I hope that’s okay.” Trucy tilts her head and smiles sweetly. Ms. Jackie practically melts.

“Ooooh, how sweeeeet! Well, I’m Jackie Blackerly, sweetie.” Jackie reaches across the table and Trucy shakes her hand kindly. She likes Jackie, she decides. But liking the opponent has nothing to do with the poker match itself, unfortunately, and Trucy doesn’t tell Jackie that she’s well out of her league. Maybe Daddy holds the champion title, but they both know that it’s really Trucy who never loses against the high-ranking opponents.

“Is it okay if I sit here? I’m Daddy’s good luck charm, you know.” Trucy tilts her head.

“Oh of course, of course! Oh my, nobody ever mentioned Mr. Wright has such an adorable daughter!”

“Are you both ready to start?” Vanessa asks. The cards are beyond well shuffled by now. Daddy nods, and then just like that, the warm and pleasant emotions disappear from Jackie’s face, like they’ve just been shut off, a blank mask over them.

“I’m ready.”

The cards are dealt, Trucy’s hand wraps around her Daddy’s arm, and just like that, the game, the tells, the truth, everything just slips into focus. She’s done this hundreds of times now, the world almost moving at a crawl to watch the little twitches and microexpressions. The code for telling Daddy what to do, a squeezing of his arm for different amount of times, is simple enough, and basically muscle-memory. Part of Trucy thinks she’d actually struggle a bit to do poker on her own and forget that she’s the one who’s supposed to actually be making the decisions and playing the round, not just delivering the information. She’s played this team version of the game many many more times than she’s ever played it ‘normally’.

Their winning the game is practically inevitable, but to be fair to Jackie, she clearly knows what she’s doing as well. Her tells are subtle, small, and take Trucy a lot of focus to find.

It’s a shame, really. Trucy had been hoping to maybe talk some more with Jackie after the game, but tonight is not going to be one of those. Already, Trucy’s head is pounding like the beating of a drum, feeling drained from the hard work. She curls up in her chair as the results are called, pretending she’s a little girl who is just tired and sleepy instead of someone trying to block out the sound of Jackie congratulating Daddy. Her chattiness, something Trucy had found fun and endearing, is now the last thing Trucy needs. Jackie heads up while Vanessa cleans up the cards and Daddy gently rubs Trucy’s back.

“How you doing, kiddo?” Daddy whispers. Trucy shakes her head. She feels him shift next to her, and then him saying, “Vanessa, think Trucy and I are gonna head out now.”

“Poor kids all tired again, huh?” Vanessa says. With her eyes closed, Trucy can’t see any tells or anything, but sometimes she wonders if Vanessa has caught on to their little trick here, “I’ll finish up here, get the kid back home and in bed.”

“Thank you, Ms. Vanessa.” Trucy says, making an effort to open her eyes up, the dim lighting of the Hydeout not yet searing with the migraine still in its early stages. Daddy slips his hand into Trucy’s, and together they go back up to the bar.

Trucy makes a token effort to help Daddy get her homework together from where it’s strewn out all over the table. Ms. Jackie comes over and is saying something, a lot of ‘Oh, are you leaving already? Oh my I was just amazed, you were amazing down there! Have you always been a poker player? Now that I’m thinking, you look sort of familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?’ And Daddy says ‘Haha, yeah, gotta get my little Trucy to bed, you know. You clearly know what you’re doing. Nah, but I’ve always been great at bluffing. Must be your imagination, I’m nobody important.’

She sneaks a peak at Daddy at that moment and sees his little tell, looking down with his eyes shielded by his hat, a sort of melancholy smirk marring his face, a little twitch of his fingers. He’s lying. He was somebody important; maybe not in the big grand scheme, maybe not a world-famous magician, but he was important to some people. Trucy wants to say “you’re my Daddy, you’re important to me,” but the pain in her head spikes and she squeezes her eyes shut again.

After a moment, Daddy grabs her hand again, and she keeps her eyes closed as he leads her out of the white and annoying noise of the bar and out onto the street. It’s still warm, even at night, and she realizes she forgot to grab a grape-juice bottle. Daddy seems to notice the same thing, letting go and telling her to wait there as he runs back inside.

He’s back in a second, the cold bottle pressed into Trucy’s hand, and she puts it against her forehead as they walk. It’s beautifully numbing to the pain there, and she zones out, focusing on the feeling as they walk down the street, completely silently this time, back to the office.

Recently, after so much practice, Trucy’s been getting better. She doesn’t always have a migraine after games, especially against the easier players. But Ms. Jackie had been good, and so Trucy is tired again. She wonders if her grandpa would’ve been able to teach her how to do this without getting a headache if he was still alive, he always seemed to understand Trucy’s little trick, but there is no way to know now.

When they get to the office, Trucy goes right to her room. The blinds were already closed earlier, before they left, just in case, and the curtains are closed to further block out any of the last beams of light. Her room is almost pitch-black. Daddy takes the bottle from her and hands her the little rice-filled frog they keep in the freezer, and the froggy friend rests on her forehead. Some medicine and a glass of water is placed in her bedside table, and she makes an effort to take it. It doesn’t always help, but sometimes it does something.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Truce.” Daddy whispers. Trucy cracks her eyes open, and from the light of the open door just barely catches Daddy blowing her a kiss.

She’s happy she’s able to help Daddy. She doesn’t care if she gets a terrible headache from it, because he’ll take care of her until it’s over, and even through the pain, she can’t wait to spend time with him again next month.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #trucy wright #wrightweek21 #fanfiction #fanfic #browniefox writes

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long-cosmos-overhead · 4 years

Note

May I request a headcanon? How would Thranduil and Legolas react if they learned their favourite human being evaded the healers and / or refused to have a minor wound patched up, because the mere thought of getting stitches or having to look at the injury freaks them out?

That’s such an interesting idea 💞

(I do not own LoTR or The Hobbit/ gif not mine)

Thranduil

Unfortunately for you it wasn’t a wound that wouldn’t be able to just clot up and heal by itself it wasn’t awful but it definitely needed some sort of medical attention otherwise the bleeding would just keep going

You were so scared at the thought of stitches or even looking at it to the point where you straight out refused to have any care taken at all instead you hoped going to your favourite elf would take your mind off it

Of course Thranduil noticed after a few minutes something was wrong he could practically see it in your eyes but when he decided to peruse his suspicions your secret was uncovered

Thranduil grasped your upper arm not only did you gasp in pain but he withdrew his hand to see it covered in blood as well as your clothes

He looked nothing short of panic and horror demanding you to tell him what happened and why you didn’t say anything, his face softened when you explained you’re scared of stitches and looking at it

Thranduil would automatically go into a protective mode you’re his favourite human and he will see you to the best medical care his elves can give, he himself will take you there and sit with you he’d even carry you if you wouldn’t budge

Once you’re there you can bet he’s not leaving he can sense your rising fear and doesn’t want you to be permanently scarred from the whole thing so he takes you in his arms and into a bear hug while sat down on one of the beds

Ever so slightly he’ll wrap his hand around your wrist and outstretch your arm so a healer can begin to dress it and as much as it pains him he’ll hold your arm there until it’s done

Thranduil does his absolute best in trying to take your mind off it you’re practically wrapped in his embrace so you don’t jolt around and make things take a turn for the worst but he makes you feel safe cling to him all you want he doesn’t mind, he whispers words of reassurance to you throughout and cuddles you with his remaining arm

He’ll be very proud of you once it’s over definitely lots of wine or a small celebration between the two of you, he’ll also redress your bandages if need be since he knows how to do that and he’s your favourite elf and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his favourite human

Legolas

You got slashed in the lower leg during a fight it was nothing too bad but everyone could tell it needed medical attention and on top of that they could tell you were having a hard time functioning with an open wound

Nearly everyone in the company tried to coax you into getting it stitched up but you refused every single time so they all came to devise a plan courtesy of Legolas

He hated seeing you in pain he loved you so much you were his favourite human if not favourite person in middle earth you’d told him before you hated the idea of stitches and open wounds and would rather just let it heal itself but Legolas knew it wasn’t going to just go away and the risk of infection or blood loss was not something he wanted to risk

Legolas hated to play dirty but it had to be done, late one night he sat beside you and asked if he could braid your hair and you let him, gradually you began to feel tired and woozy from a little blood loss and found yourself resting in his lap

Legolas gave Aragorn a signal and ever so slightly gripped you in his arms he hated every minute of working against you but he wanted you safe and healthy

By the time Aragorn began stitching you up you were already trapped in Legolas’ arms and since elves are much stronger that’s where you stayed and in all honesty it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be you couldn’t feel that much and Legolas was warm so that was a bonus

By the time Aragorn was done you were buried in reassurance by Legolas and nested comfortably in his warmth feeling actually a whole lot better there wasn’t that much to be afraid of but you got over a fear that day

Everyone was proud of you especially Legolas but most of all they were relieved, they took camp and rest for a few days as a sort of celebration for you and the night after shared some small fears you never knew Gimli got afraid of a fish when he was younger

Legolas proposed he braid you hair for real this time and you joked that he was planning something every time he wanted to braid your hair it’s a sweet little thing and he gave you some nice elvish food he had

Legolas was very supportive of you and not to mention proud that his favourite human had overcome a fear, he developed a habit of saying “that’s my favourite human, she is brave and everybody else sucks” it always makes you laugh

#thranduil x reader #thranduil headcannon #legolas headcannons #legolas x reader #request #ask #lotr #the hobbit

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tcm · 3 years

Text

A Conversation with Patty McCormack on Growing Up on Screen By Kim Luperi

Not many child stars go on to enjoy long, successful careers in show business – and fewer still have earned a prestigious Academy Award nomination before they turned 18. Patty McCormack has achieved both. The actress, who made her first film appearance in 1951 and went on to star in THE BAD SEED (’56, for which she received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress as the murderous Rhoda at age 11); THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN (’60) and THE YOUNG RUNAWAYS (’68), continues to work in Hollywood and shows no indication of slowing down.

I had the pleasure of speaking with McCormack recently about some of these titles and more, including the delightful film KATHY O’ ('58) in which she plays a famous child star – an apt springboard for a discussion about growing up on screen and transitioning into more mature roles over her incredibly long, accomplished career.

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

I was watching KATHY O’ last night, and I really enjoyed it. In that movie they talk about your blonde pigtail braids as a trademark, and I realized it kind of was; you had that hairstyle in THE BAD SEED and ALL MINE TO GIVE (’57), too. Do you know how that style came about, or was it something you did that caught on?

Patty McCormack: It seems to be! I believe I even had them early on in Mama, which was an old live TV show that was a weekly event. I don't know how that [trademark] happened. I think it just happened because of THE BAD SEED – I think it was the hairdo that I went in with or they just decided on. When you see the original artwork on William March’s book, there’s a very long face drawing of Rhoda, his Rhoda, and there were braids in it. I don't know if they were looped or what, but that could have been it – or I honestly don't remember if it was chosen by my mom because it was easy, but it stuck!

I loved KATHY O’ because I got to live the dream. I loved the notion of them cutting my hair off – except it was a wig that they cut. After a while it felt like I didn't want to look like an older person with braids – you have to get rid of them eventually. As soon as I could, I wanted hair that was like, in that era, a page boy or something like that, where it landed on your shoulder. But I carried that long hair for a long time. And then you know how you revert back to certain hairdos years later?

They come back in style.

PM: Yes, they come back, but now I have shortish hair, and I'm growing it one length. So I got over the braids – just in the nick of time!

Circling back to Rhoda, you originated the role on Broadway before the film version, so you obviously had a lot of practice and familiarity with the part before you took it to the screen. Since she's such a chilling character, how did you get into that mindset at age nine, especially when you had to play the part multiple times a week?

PM: I always go back to the source, and the source was the director, Reginald Denham. He was so good with directing me. He made it fun, because I learned when I'd get an audience reaction on a face I’d make or something, I'd look forward to doing that again – you know, that kind of joy.

He made it so clear and simple, and his point of view was that Rhoda was always right. I know I've said this before, but it's the truth. No matter what anybody says, Rhoda is correct, and anything she wants, she feels entitled to – not using that word ‘entitled’ – but I really wasn't thinking of myself as a bad person, or especially not a murderer. I just thought it was their fault, which is classic, I guess. I had to kill him [the little boy] because he was so mean. So I think that was how I learned to be that character. I was aware of the murders – people were dead because of me, that I knew – but somehow it wasn't disturbing to my mind. If you take a look at it knowing that, you see it. I'm not coming from some sort of evil place, I don't think.

You were nominated for an Oscar for THE BAD SEED, which is amazing; it's a true testament to your talents, of course, but it’s also such a big accolade to have at such a young age. Do you remember there being any pressure on you for your next role?

PM: Well, the role was so odd for a kid to be so noticed, in that era anyway. I can't think of any jobs I didn't get after that that somebody else got, you know? What happened, though, was that each year I grew, and so I just experienced the typical kid actor dilemma which is going from category to category and establishing yourself in that category and learning how to be in that category. I did do something on Playhouse 90 – I did a few PLAYHOUSE 90s back then – and I did a lot of television –

You played Helen Keller [in the original 1957 Playhouse 90 teleplay “The Miracle Worker”].

PM: That's what I was going to say! That was after THE BAD SEED. But mostly, as far as movies went, there was KATHY O’ and a few here and there and at different levels of development. I was always aware that it had been a while since I worked, that I felt, but I didn't think business, like “What will I follow up that with?” I didn't have that kind of mentality, and I really don't think my mother did either, so it just sort of went the way it went.

As you mentioned too, you were still growing up. So, you’re a child, then a teenager, then young adult. You probably wouldn’t be thinking about the business part of it.

PM: No, it's so strange. It's not an easy transition, and as you know famous people go through really hard things. You don't get to sit and relax in a certain mode for too long because before you know it you're in the next one. And then you go through your ‘ugly period’ in front of everybody, which is horrible.

The movie that you mentioned TCM is going to air, THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN, when I see the headshots from that I just think, “Aw, I looked uncomfortable!” I could see it even in my body. I felt like I was at the awkward time – you know, part of me was getting bigger, developing – and that hairdo they gave me didn't help; it was still the braids but wrapped up.

I want to ask you about that transition. Did you find anything difficult or surprising about navigating Hollywood and growing up on screen?

PM: The most difficult part, honestly, as a person growing up – I think at the time I always say Sandra Dee was the person we all looked to. She was just so beautiful, and no one else looked like that – maybe Carol Lynley a little bit – but the bar was set very high. With that, you’re insecure anyways because you’re at that age, and more than anything you don't want to be different. I think that's true for a lot of kids. So the maturing, that part of development, was difficult when I look back. You don't have the confidence that you had as a little kid when you don't think about anything. You become all self-conscious about how you look, if you're thin enough, if you’re pretty enough, if your hair looks nice. It's a little bit of an adjustment to get through all that and go back to what you like to do, which is to pretend, and take the focus off what you look like or who you look like or any of that stuff. I don't know if other kid actors had the same experience, but usually people grow out of a look that made them known – most of us anyway, not all of us.

I know when you left Hollywood you went back to Brooklyn and finished high school there. What was that experience like for you?

PM: Well, I took my real name back, and I was going to the high school that my mother and older sister went to, so I was really excited. This is going to sound so weird, but it was almost like playing a part – I was playing the part of a high school student. My real name is Russo, so I was Patty Russo. The experience was really kind of shocking, because I think they expected me to be very conceited, and so I had to hide in the cafeteria in the early days, because it was Brooklyn and they were pretty tough – they were on me! But I made a best friend who helped me navigate through it, and it turned into a nice experience finally. I was glad to have had that.

Then I came back out here [Los Angeles], and I stayed with a friend of my mother's family for a while. I wound up leaving Utrecht [her Brooklyn high school] – it’s a long story – but I did a soap opera in between while I was going to Utrecht, and that was kind of tricky because they weren't flexible like California was. In California they were used to kid actors, and in New York at that time, they really weren't. Then when I came out here, I went back to finish high school at Hollywood Professional and got my diploma that way. But I'm so glad I got to go back to Brooklyn. I'm pleased about that.

It sounds like you had a pretty grounded childhood, especially in attending a regular high school. Do you think that helped how you adjusted when you returned to the film industry?

PM: It was a little bit too grounded, I think! I came from a really good family. I never thought that I was a big deal, and they [her mom and dad] made sure of that. So, coming back to the industry after, I really didn't know the ropes. People handled all that before – the only thing I knew was what I did, and so some things maybe didn't get handled so well, but I learned on my feet when I came back out here. Then I married my childhood boyfriend and we had our children, and I kept working.

Yes, you’ve worked steadily since then.

PM: I did work a lot! It’s true. Nothing on the level of nominations, but I was a journeyman, I like to say.

You've spent six decades in the industry, which is really astounding, especially since you started as a child. I read an interview from 1974 that featured a humorous quote from you that I’d like to share. You said that you lamented that you never got the guy in movies and just once you wanted to “kiss the guys instead of kill them.”

PM: That is funny!

But throughout your career, you played Helen Keller, you played a career woman in THE BEST OF EVERYTHING (’70), you played Pat Nixon more recently in FROST/NIXON (’08), so you've had a lot of experience with different characters. Was there any genre or any type of character that you wish you could explore further?

PM: Well, I'll tell you the truth, it's actually seven decades from when I started, although if you want to make me younger, I don't mind! At this point in time, I'm so grateful when I work, because there could be nothing now, you know? I do enjoy what comes along. The only thing I never got to do, which I would have loved, was to have been in a habit – I would have loved to have played a nun in a habit.

That’s interesting.

PM: Isn’t it? It’s the Catholic school thing.

We’ll have to find you a role like that!

PM: I know, wouldn't that be fun? And it would be a nice way, in your later years, to go from a killer to a nun, you know? I think it would be a good idea.

Going in the right direction!

PM: Yes! But anyways, little things change here and there, and I sometimes do voiceovers, and I did something recently that I had never done, which was so much fun. Did you notice on Netflix a show called ARSENE LUPIN [working title for LUPIN]?

I haven’t heard of it, but I know there’s an old movie with the same name.

PM: Yes, this is a remake. It's in French, and I dubbed a French woman into English, and it was so much fun to do, to have someone else's face up there. I know some people watch foreign movies and they say, “Oh it's so unfair to dub the other actors,” and I probably wouldn't love it if somebody dubbed me either, but I had such a ball doing it. So, if you catch that show, you'll see somewhere in there I'm speaking English for a French woman.

I wanted to talk about two of your more recent roles. I know you starred in MOMMY in the 1990s, kind of a grown-up Rhoda, and you played a psychiatrist in the Lifetime remake of THE BAD SEED in 2018. This story has been filmed a few times; what do you think resonates with people, and how did it feel going back to that character and story but from different perspectives?

PM: Right. Well, to be honest, the Rob Lowe production [for Lifetime] was really a totally different story. There was no mom – he was the mom character – so the writing was really different.

There were two MOMMY movies: MOMMY (’95) and MOMMY’S DAY (’97). Those were written by a writer who lives in Muscatine, Iowa: Max Allan Collins. This is a long time ago now, but it was fun to grow her up, you know, physically. I talked to you about how that is the strange thing about transitioning, and it was so enjoyable to do that. It really was a journey for me internally.

There was also something about shaking hands with that, because in my day, it was never a good thing to have something so long ago be talked about all the time. I got that impression by other people's opinions, not my own, and as time went on, the world changed and people started knowing actors’ work from 20 years ago. So, the appreciation for that old work came back, and I learned to feel good about it through other people's feelings about it. I do have such a different perspective on it now, and it's a character that was so special. That really changed my ability as to how I could hold it [the role].

It’s nice to be able to do that.

PM: Yes, it is.

I have one more question for you. I know we’re in a pandemic and many productions are halted, but do you have any upcoming appearances that I can share with fans to look out for?

PM: Aw, I wish! It's funny, I did some Hallmark Christmas movies. Well, I did one, and then last year I was supposed to do another one, and they cut our parts because of COVID. So, I'm rooting for [the next one], and I have a good feeling, you know, when we have our vaccinations. Also, a downside was that they shoot in Canada, and they have to bring you up there, and at that time you had to stay in 14 days.

A lot of rules!

PM: Yes, a lot of rules. So hopefully there will be a new one. I can't honestly say, but there's no reason there shouldn't be!

My dad loves the Hallmark Christmas movies, and I watch a lot of them because of him, so I'll be rooting for you and looking out for you!

PM: I know, there's so many. People have blankets and all these things! There are real hard-core fans – it's amazing.

#patty mccormack #child actors #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #The bad seed #kim luperi #growing up on screen #acting #actor

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undertaker1827 · 4 years

Note

May I request headcannons for Sebastian and Undertaker with a girlfriend who is a ballerina, and has trained for hours every day since she was small? She's bery reserved, but she likes to play with their hair when she's bored. -💜

Of course you can!! Sorry these took so long, also sorry Sebastian’s one is shorter I got kind of stuck for ideas. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Undertaker

Dancing is something Undertaker has always really enjoyed (he’s often greatly underestimated, but he’s actually really great at it), but ballet was never something he tried

He likes your classic waltz, foxtrot, a bit of tango would never go amiss either (also I have a personal hc that he likes/is really good at English country dancing) but while all of these disciplines are fascinating to watch, he finds a ballet absolutely tantalizing

How controlled and precise all of the movements have to be, how the entire body seems to move as one

And the dedication you have to have been training for so long!! He’s really impressed

I feel like if you were reserved when you first met him, you would gradually loose that trait a bit

Around him at least, even if not with anyone else

I mean he’s loud and outrageous with no sense of calm most of the time, so I think you would pick that up a bit too after spending a lot of time with him

But yanno, not to the degree that he does it

His hair

His hair is awesome

I feel like it would be really thick to run your hands through and well looked after not that he would admit it and silky smooth

Also there’s so much of it, it would literally go everywhere

If you’re sitting on the sofa together, either watching a film or just talking in general, his hair will sort of floof over in your direction

You gently catch a strand in your fingertips and absentmindedly twirl it around

If Undertaker was going to move his hair out of the way because he thought it was annoying you, he certainly won’t now

He watches as you go back to whatever you were doing previously but now whilst playing with his hair

Wonders if you even realise you’re doing it

He won’t comment on it in case you get shy and stop, but it does make him smile

Given your reserved personality (though Undertaker is certainly working on that) he usually starts any contact - surprise hugs, kisses etc - so he’s really happy that you’re doing it

Maybe you’re both reading at a different point, then you put your book down and start fiddling with his hair again

He grins, but when it turns out you’re braiding it!! Other than the single one he always wears, he hasn’t braided his hair in decades, and he certainly hasn’t had anyone else do it for even longer

He silently drops a few bands over his shoulder onto your lap, gaze not leaving the page he’s on

You’ve created an absolutely beautiful masterpiece when you’re finished and the mortician vows to keep it in as long as possible

He gives you a warm bear hug in thanks and laughs a little when you hide your face in his shoulder, a hand placed gently over the other one

He repeatedly tells you how much he loves his new hair, all but distraught when they finally fall apart so badly (like a week later) that he has to take them out entirely

Offer to do them again and he will love you forever

I mean he did anyway, but now he loves you even more

If you do ballet performances on stage, he tries to be there for every single one

If it’s the same show repeated several nights in a row, you insist that he’s already seen it twice, he really doesn’t need to go again, you know he’ll be supporting you from home

He goes anyway

He just loves watching you dance

If you don’t perform, he asks to watch you practice

He thinks you’re perfect, but if you make a mistake or are too harsh on yourself, he’s always there to comfort you and stop any negative thoughts

“I just can’t do it!” - “You’ll be able to, love.” - “But I-” - “and besides, it already looks perfect to me, which means it does to everyone else as well.”

He won’t hear anymore of it

He’ll often jokingly ask you to ‘give me a twirl’ at random times around the house, without shoes or anything, just for fun

He might catch you halfway through and spin you around him, maybe even do a lift if you’re comfortable with that

Overall he thinks you’re an amazing dancer and always encourages you towards your goals, whatever they may be

Sebastian

Sebastian, being one hell of a butler, can probably also ballet dance. But he, like Undertaker, is very impressed that you have been training for such a long time

I mean that takes a lot of dedication, especially for a human

If you’re having trouble with any particular movements, he’ll be able to help you (if you want him to)

I don’t think he would go full out ‘tutor’ mode, more like casual tips and advice

He’d probably show you the correct stance etc as an example for you to follow

If you need music to dance to, he is absolutely the right demon for the job

Literally, pick an instrument and he’ll be able to play just about anything you can imagine

You don’t really know where he got them all from, but here they are and yes that was the exact piece you needed how did he know

He can’t help but find the fact that you play with his hair quite endearing

Obviously his hair is quite short so he’ll subtly move over when you start doing it so you don’t have to stretch too far

He doesn’t mind it at all, in fact he finds it quite relaxing

He might play around a bit with your hair in return sometimes, maybe braiding it if it’s long enough

Sebastian sometimes asks to practice with you, he finds it a nice change from other traditions like ballroom dancing

If he’s not with you during your training, he will come and see you after you finish

He has a habit of appearing with your favourite drink and snack

Is always full of questions - “How did you fare during today’s training?” “Did you improve on [something you’ve been having trouble with]?”

But always finishes with “Are you pleased with how it went?”

He makes sure you don’t push yourself too hard, knowing how much you want to continue improving

He also makes certain you know how well you are already doing and reminds you how far you’ve come from when you started if you ever feel a bit down or despondent about it

Like I said earlier, he’s more than happy to help you if you need it, adjusting your position just a little until everything is perfect and making your favourite dish to celebrate a good day’s work

He knows how hard you work so he’s certainly keeping a close eye on you - he quickly notices if you look more tired than usual, asking if you stayed up late to carry on training alone

Definitely won’t let you sacrifice sleep or anything else that might affect your health

If you’re absolutely insistent that you need to do something to improve, he recommends and finds you a few books - training guides, journals, etc - to either increase/check your general knowledge of your dancing, or to give you guidance and tips

He tells you to read those if it’s getting late and you suddenly feel like you should be dancing

Of course if that’s not a problem you suffer from, so much the better! He’s still going to give you the books and suggest you read them (but don’t use that as a reason to not sleep either!)

If you perform, he’s seen all of your shows at least once, if you compete, he’s always there to congratulate you (especially if you’re not so happy with how the results turned out)

#black butler #undertaker #adrian crevan #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #black butler x reader #adrian crevan x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker #kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitsuji x reader #black butler sebastian #undertaker black butler #black butler undertaker x reader #black butler sebastian x reader #sebastian #sebastian michaelis x reader #undertaker x reader

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reneeofthestars · 3 years

Text

Go the Kriff to Sleep!

** I’m happy to share the bonus fic I wrote for “Found: A Clone Wars Zine” as a stretch goal! This was such an amazing project to be a part of, and I’m so thankful to the mods for allowing me to participate, and for letting me write an extra story for it. ** @foundaclonewarszine

Click “Keep Reading” to stay on Tumblr, or read it on AO3

* * *

Mace Windu couldn’t sleep.

He lay on his cot, eyes closed, arms folded behind his head. Outside the tent, he heard the quiet voices of Commanders Ponds and Grey as they made the rounds. Laughter carried across the camp as the men talked, thermal lamps hummed, all while the skeletal branches of the massive trees outside raked together. But none of those noises were keeping him awake.

It was his grand-Padawan.

“Master?” The boy’s voice came again from the cot on the other side of the small tent. It had been about ten minutes since his rapid-fire queries regarding the social castes of the local population. Mace had hoped he’d finally fallen asleep – but apparently that was not to be.

Mace kept his eyes closed and said nothing. But the question wasn’t directed at him.

“Yes, Caleb?” Depa Billaba replied calmly from the cot beside Mace. She sounded tired, but alert enough that she must not have managed to fall asleep yet. The woman had infinite patience that bested Mace himself some nights; he heard her roll over to face her Padawan, giving him her full attention.

“The translator told me that the locals worship a spirit that controls the destinies of everyone in the galaxy. Isn’t that just the Force?”

“It sounds like it may be an interpretation of it, yes.”

“Then why don’t they just call it ‘the Force’?

“Because that is not their faith,” Depa replied simply. “It is not for us to correct their beliefs.”

Caleb Dume didn’t sound satisfied with that answer. “But we know the truth.”

“Do we?”

The boy must have been caught off guard by that question, for he didn’t say anything else. Mace heard rustling as Depa rolled back over.

In the following silence, Mace settled back to focusing on his breathing. He felt each breath rush into his lungs, then drag out; he felt his heart thrumming against his chest, and he willed it to slow. As he did every time before he slept, he reached out with the Force, passing by each person in the camp. Everyone accounted for, he allowed his mind to clear, his body to relax.

It didn’t last.

“Master?”

The boy had been silent for fifteen minutes – a record for the night.

“Yes, Caleb?” came Depa’s ever-patient voice. Mace heard her draw a deep breath as she stifled a yawn.

“You said we’re going to wait until nightfall in four days to move on the Separatist’s base, right?”

“Correct. Their machines are solar-powered, so striking at night will give us an advantage.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Won’t they have reserves of energy they can use?”

“Indeed. Which is why Commander Ponds and Master Windu will lead a covert force to take out their generators right before we move in.”

“Oh.”

Mace quieted his mind. There was much to plan in the coming days, and he needed all the rest he could get. After a while, the ambient noise of the camp began to fade as he began to drift to sleep –

“Master?”

Mace was awake.

Irritation flickered through him. He acknowledged it and let it go. In the few months that Depa had taken Caleb as her apprentice, it had quickly become apparent that the boy had a keen mind, and a desire to learn.

If only he could keep his curiosity to himself until the sun rose.

Mace opened his eyes to the mostly-dark tent. He turned his head towards his former apprentice. Depa lay on her side, facing Mace. Her robe lay over her like a blanket, her dark hair unbraided, loose on her pillow. Her eyes remained closed, but as Mace watched, a weary smile touched her lips.

“Yes, Caleb?”

Mace couldn’t see the boy over Depa, but the soft blue glow of a datapad lit up the tent wall behind her. The Jedi Master suppressed a groan; Caleb wasn’t even attempting to go to sleep.

“Is there a reason we’re attacking in four days?”

“It will give us time to get our troops in position and do proper recon.”

“Would it make a difference if we did it in six days instead?”

Depa opened her eyes blearily. She caught Mace’s look and smiled at him, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Well, Master Windu? Would two days make a difference?”

Caleb’s voice suddenly sounded worried. “Oh, sorry, Master Windu – did I wake you?”

“No, Padawan Dume,” Mace said levelly as Depa bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I’ve been awake. As to your question, it would be two days more of Separatist occupation on this world, which we cannot allow.”

“Of course, Master,” Caleb said hastily before falling silent.

Mace waited for him to say something else, but nothing came, even though some question hung in the air between them. Mace raised an eyebrow at Depa. The woman gestured ever-so-slightly with her head, her eyes flicking to the side in an obvious instruction: talk to him.

They’d had the discussion before leaving the Jedi Temple. Proud to be chosen as Depa’s Padawan and eager to prove himself, Caleb Dume stuck closely to her side, admiration obvious in his every gesture, asking questions and putting forward ideas with lightning speed.

But whenever Mace was around, the boy clammed up, ducked his head, and became demure.

“Have I done something to offend him?” Mace had asked Depa as they left the Council Chamber after receiving their assignment.

“Not at all,” his former Padawan had assured him. “But you’re a leading member of the Jedi Council, a revered Master, and a bit grim-faced. He’s worried about living up to your expectations. He’s intimidated by you. He’ll warm up to you, Mace. Just open up to him a little.”

So, Mace took her words to heart. With a grunt, he sat up on his cot, stretching. “What is it, Padawan Dume?”

On the other side of Depa, the blue datapad light reflected in the boy’s wide, startled eyes. He scrambled to a sitting position, hugging his knees. His brown hair was mussed from laying down; a chunk of hair stuck upright, his Padawan braid hooked over his ear. Caleb looked almost too small for his robes, arms practically swimming in the wide sleeves. He clutched the datapad tightly.

“Nothing, Master,” he replied quickly. “I just – I’d had a thought – but it’s nothing, really.”

“You thought it was worth mentioning,” Mace said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I would like to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

Depa propped herself up on her elbows, yawning. She smiled encouragingly at her Padawan.

Caleb sucked in a breath to steady himself. He ran a hand through his hair, holding his head while he thought. Finally, he activated the projection mode on the datapad and laid it flat. A hologram of the local solar system flickered into the air.

“So, this –” Caleb pointed to the fifth planet, “is us.” He hesitated.

Mace could see the doubt in his eyes. He felt a frown tug at the corners of his mouth, but he fought it back. Instead, he softened his expression. “Go on, Caleb.”

“Well…” The boy cleared his throat. “I was looking up information about the planet, because Master Depa suggested it, and I found out there’s a cosmic event happening in six days, and I thought we might be able to use it.”

Mace tilted his head. “What kind of cosmic event?”

“An eclipse. A total solar eclipse. I know most eclipses only last a few minutes, but the moon that’s going to be blocking out the sun is massive – it’s almost as big as the planet, just less dense. So, the sun will be blocked out for longer. The locals have a huge celebration to commemorate it, since it only happens once a generation or so.” Caleb paused, his expression clouding. “But I guess they can’t really celebrate it. Not with the occupation going on.”

Studying the rotating hologram, Mace chided himself for taking the planet’s rotation cycle for granted. Each planet, each system was different, and deserved its own attention. And he had forgotten that.

“You did well to see this opportunity, Caleb,” Mace said approvingly. “If we do wait the two extra days, do you have a way to incorporate this into the plan?”

“Not yet, Master. But I’m working on it.” Caleb grinned, eyes bright and excited.

“We can discuss it tomorrow, once we’ve had time to sleep on it.” Depa settled back on her cot. “Once we’ve found a way to use this to our advantage, we can inform the troopers.”

Mace nodded. “Agreed. Good work, Caleb Dume.”

“Thank you, Master!” The boy beamed.

“Why don’t you leave the datapad alone for now,” Mace suggested. “It’s late. We should sleep.”

“Sure. I mean – of course, Master,” Caleb said quickly as he deactivated the projection. Darkness crept back into the tent.

Mace shook his head and shot a look at Depa as he repositioned himself. “And I thought you were inquisitive as a Padawan,” he murmured.

Depa smiled. “Questions are the best way to learn.”

There was thirty seconds of silence before it was broken.

“Master Depa?” Caleb was sitting up again, a small silhouette in the darkness. “How many years were you a Padawan for? And Master Windu, who was your Master? Is it hard to have a seat on the Council and a Padawan? How –”

“Caleb Dume,” Mace sighed. “Please: go to sleep.”

“Yes, Master Windu,” came the sheepish reply. “Sorry. Sleep well.”

Mace held his breath as he waited for another question, but none came. He chuckled to himself before rolling over to finally go to sleep. Padawans in his line were all alike, it seemed.

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cyndalyssa · 3 years

Text

Name: Rosella Macawber

Age: She’s about five years younger than Morgana; heavily depends on how you think supernatural beings age

Gender: Female

Species: Monster/Fae Duck

Occupation: Waitress (and occasional gardener/landscaper) at Shadow Chateau, Superheroine in Training

Super powers: Earth Magic (Geokinesis, Animation of Stone, Petrification, basically any spell that involves dirt, stone, minerals, etc.)

Weaknesses:

Silver

Cast/Wrought Iron (typically manifesting as allergies, though they also weaken her magic),

Water (erodes at her strength until she can barely move, she also can’t swim and sinks like a rock; however, she can drink it just fine, she’d just rather not take a dip in it)

Appearance:

Tiny twig of a woman with a terrible case of baby face.

Brown feathers, prehensile green hair done in a single braid (typically behaves like tentacles when unbraided) with a hot pink daisy at the base, rose pink eyes (which can turn red when she’s in attack mode).

Teeth are selectively sharp and claws are retractable (usually borne when she’s angry).

Typically wears a green sleeveless tunic, brown capelet with a hot pink rose pin, string belt holding a tan magic pouch to her left hip, brown leggings and darker brown flat shoes.

Personality: Optimistic, excitable, curious, and friendly; quite independent, but also lonely to the point of stir craziness; tends to be stubborn, prideful, and a little fiery, especially when she feels her identity as a person is threatened.

Relationships:

Morgana Macawber (cousin, big sister figure)

Tuffy (her cat made out of rocks; BFF)

Mattias Macawber (father, lukewarm relationship)

Undine Macawber (eldest quadruplet sister, hostile relationship)

Ashmay and Zephra Macawber (other two older quadruplet sisters, lukewarm relationship)

Darkwing Duck (ally, mutual annoyance but begrudging respect)

Launchpad McQuack (friend, usually the one to educate her on Normal stuff)

Gosalyn Mallard (odd friendship where they’re kinda kindred spirits but with opposite tastes; occasionally Rosie babysits her and it’s wild)

Liquidator (enemy, will absolutely NOPE out of Dodge upon seeing him)

Quackerjack (enemy, there’s a stupid mutual grudge between them)

Bushroot (some kind of weird complicated friendship despite being on different sides)

Biography:

Once upon a time, Mattias Macawber went traveling for a few years, only to return to Transylvania with four eggs that he quietly admitted were his, and that the woman he produced them with was dead. He spoke little more of the matter, despite everyone’s curiosity, and just sought to raise the children like any other monster.

Rosella was the last of the girls to hatch, and at first, she seemed like a regular monster, looking like she’d be a witch with animated hair. However, as she grew older, it became clear that she just couldn’t fit in. No interest in their macabre society, no desire to be scary or gross, and no magic ability save for manipulating dirt and pebbles. It grew worse when upon stumbling into Normal territory, she discovered their colorful flora (a far cry from the deadly and scary plants monsters grow), among other things, and immediately took a liking to it. She was already bullied by the other monsters for being weak; having adopted a cute and colorful persona, she was now tormented for being the odd duck of not just the esteemed Macawber Family, but all of monster society.

By the time she was an adult, she was shoved to the outskirts of monster society, and often even excluded from her own family—her only friend was a cat (named Tuffy) she made out of rocks and endowed some of her life force into. Not many visitors came her way, and when they did, it’s usually just to grab something from her magic stone/crystal/sand collection and run before she can offer them tea. So, her life was full of loneliness, filling time with gardening, making artisan crafts, and practicing her earth magic—it was enough to make her a bit stir crazy. Still, as much as she yearned for acceptance, she held a stubborn pride in who she is.

Things started to change when her cousin Morgana sought her help in landscaping around her restaurant, the Shadow Chateau. It was initially meant to be a temporary affair, and they’d part ways after the work was done. But, things took a turn when the fairy bounty hunter/hitwoman Goldenrod captured the Macawbers at the restaurant--save Rosie, who was ditched by the other members of the family and left to figure out which magic door at the castle led to the manor in St. Canard. She helped Darkwing Duck and co. rescue them, and then angrily chewed out her kin for leaving her behind and overall treating her like dirt.

Realizing that Rosella was unhappy with her life, Morgana felt pity for her, and offered her a job and a change of scenery. Despite said job being a waitress for the restaurant—involving being dressed to match an aesthetic she cares little for—Rosie ecstatically accepted (albeit with the condition that they transport her garden to a new plot of land, so that no vandals destroy her hard work when she’s gone), seeing it as an opportunity for a fresh start in this strange land of St. Canard.

This fresh start would involve the insanity of superheroes and supervillains, supernatural forces following her and Morg to the city, aliens, spies, mutants, and more… but hey, her life’s more interesting, and she’s starting to make friends.

Open to RP: If anyone cares.

Random facts:

Her mother is a faerie, and only two know (her father and a local doctor (who was confirming the girls’ relation to him, given that he just randomly showed up with eggs; Mattias paid him to keep quiet about their other half)).

However, everyone else does sense something off about Rosie (and her sisters, but she sticks out), enough to theorize that she’s actually a faerie changeling (well, they’re kinda close?). Some of Rosie’s peers had even taken to calling her “fairy princess”, which infuriates her.

She has a scarily extensive knowledge of geology—after all, if you had the power to command the earth, wouldn’t you want to better understand your element? She has a rock collection to boot.

She’s an avid homesteader, given that she’s been taking care of herself for years with various home skills like gardening, cooking, textile work, etc. As interesting as St. Canard is, living in the city gets her a little on edge, and she hopes to someday live independently in the country like she did before (that said, she doesn’t want to go back to a friendless life and would love visits).

Whatever you do, do not threaten her garden. She will throw boulders at or sic golems on you at best. At worst... let’s not think about it.

Though she has a distaste for the spooky, gross, and freaky things that are mainstream in monster culture, she ain’t gonna complain about the food--she actually enjoys it, her faves being the bug dishes. Otherwise, with Normal food, she has a ravenous sweet tooth, dislikes salty foods, and everything else ranges from okay to pretty good.

Character created by and belongs to @cyndalyssa

Bio Template nicked from @duckverseoc

#darkwing duck #dwd oc #rosella macawber #character bio #lyssa does a thing i guess

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conretewings · 3 years

Text

-A SMALL OBSTACLE-

**ATTENTION. THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD. I edited some things and added an epilogue. Please enjoy and reblog if you want**

(I'd like to dedicate this story to @mistwolf4, who's kindness, support, and discussions with me on it helped make it possible.)

When Salem had something to accomplish, she'd usually pick whoever's particular skills were most closely aligned to the task; when technological expertise or sly infiltration was in order, she called upon Watts. When wise diplomacy or intimidation, real or implied, was needed, she'd send Hazel. And when the seeds of chaos needed to be sown or a target taken care of, Tyrian was all too happy to serve.

Bearing this in mind, it wasn't often that all three men in the Grimm queen's inner circle were sent on a mission together; in fact this was only time in recent memory. All of their abilities, she had said, would be crucial. They had no idea about the small yet critical obstacle that lie ahead in their path...

Things started out just fine when they left Evernight in a 'borrowed' Mistral airship. They made it to the first rendezvous point, took care of that aspect of the mission-but when they returned to the vessel found themselves facing an unexpected issue.

Watts banged one fist on the control console after failing for nearly the seventh time to get the ship started, "What the hell is wrong with this heap of garbage?!"

Tyrian poked his head up from an access hatch in the floor, holding a wrench, "I tightened the bolts you pointed out...nothing?"

"Clearly not," the doctor replied with an eyeroll Tyrian didn't see, then leaned his head out the open window, "Is the power supply properly connected Hazel?"

The tall man nodded, closing a panel on the ship's side, "Everything looks fine."

Watts sighed, turning and going to the same access hatch Tyrian had vacated and was now crouching beside. Turning a couple of his rings, he swept a hand out, creating small hard-light platforms in front of his feet, using them as steps as he descended into the small main mechanical control room.

He began to fidget with several controls, muttering and cursing to himself as Hazel, having re-entered, and Tyrian stood nearby, unsure of how and if they could do anything. The scorpion Faunus caught Hazel's eye and gave a shrug before crawling onto the co-pilot's chair, and the taller man sighed, crossing his thick arms and leaning against the wall.

He knew if they couldn't get the thing started soon they'd be out of luck. Thus, ever the pragmatic one, he moved to kneel beside the hatch and said, "Arthur, if we can't get it going, we'll have to be stuck here for the night, or try and secure another mode of transportation. I suggest we head back into town and weigh our options."

A loud rattling and clang was heard from the dimly lit room below, coupled with Watts poking his head into view, "Absolutely not," he huffed, tossing a scorched, blackened piece of metal and wire onto the floor then ascending on more of his hard-light steps, brushing his clothes off, "I've located the issue. This," he picked the piece up, "Is one of the spark plugs for the main engine. We'll just grab a spare from the toolkit, install it and be on our way. Tyrian could you grab me the toolkit? It's the same one you grabbed the wrench from."

"There was nothing like that in there that I saw." Tyrian answered, cocking his head, long braid flopping over his shoulder.

Watts rolled his eyes again, striding to and flipping open a large steel box, "Rubbish. There has to be. There's always at...at least...oh for the brothers sake!"

He stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, "There isn't one."

"I told you, dear Arthur." Tyrian said with a sing-song tone, batting his eyes and earning himself a sideways, sour glance.

Hazel pushed himself to his feet, "We have two choices. One is to let her Grace know. The other is to head back into town to purchase the part we need. If we're quick option two is our best bet."

"No, no, you're right as usual my exceptionally tall fellow," Watts relented, giving his jacket another dusting for good measure and walking to the exit ramp, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I'm coming too," said Hazel as he too moved toward the door, "I'll grab a few other things in case we run into something like this again."

Tyrian leapt from the chair and swept up behind them, "Well, don't leave me out of the party! It's no fun being here all by myself!"

Watts waved a hand dismissively, "Fine fine! Let's just hurry and get this done."

An hour later, they had finally located a shop that carried the parts they needed. Watts was inside handling the purchase, Tyrian had joined him, and once Hazel had grabbed what he wanted he stepped outside to wait. The man leaned against the side of the store, slightly down the alley between it and the neighboring building minding his own business and trying to remain as inconspicuous as was feasible. It had clouded over in their walk here, and now the sky above was dark and heavy with the threat of rain.

As he stood, keeping an eye out for possible trouble as he always did, he suddenly felt a tugging at his pant leg and looked down to see...a small child gazing intently up at him. She looked to be about five years old, with dirt-streaked brown hair and an equally filthy dress. One hand clutched a stuffed toy with the other firmly knotted in the fabric of his pants, and she stared up at him fearlessly with bright blue eyes.

He resolved to ignore her, as she was likely simply seeking attention or to play a joke on him, neither of which he felt like dealing with. Thus he looked away again, crossing his arms and hoping she'd get bored and leave. After a minute or so of continued efforts, the tugging became more insistent and she spoke up, "'Scuse me mister!"

He sighed, relenting and making eye contact, "Yes?"

"Where's my mama?" she asked plaintively.

Hazel was momentarily taken aback. Of all the people around she had, for some reason, chosen him. Was she truly lost, or did she simply wander off and her mother was right nearby, frantically searching for her? No doubt it was the latter, and not having time to deal with lost waifs, yet unable to force himself to turn a blind eye-there were monsters other than Grimm about-he resolved to take care of this matter quickly. He carefully knelt, still towering above her but slightly less intimidating and asked, "When and where did you see her last?"

The child pursed her lips, looking away for a moment, "Umm...three days ago?"

Hazel felt his heart sink; three days meant it was the former situation after all.

Fishing in her pocket, the girl held out a piece of paper, "She gave me this but I can't read it..."

Taking it, Hazel unfolded it and quickly realized he was now entangled in a much darker, more complex situation. The note read, 'I can't take care of her anymore. Her aunt lives in Fellstone at 36 Walnut St. take her there.'

His brows knitted and he exhaled so lowly in his throat it was almost a growl. There had to be a police station nearby he could drop her off at, though he wondered why the child hadn't been taken there in the first place. Standing again, he stuffed the paper in a pocket and motioned for her to follow.

"Come on. I'll take you to someone who can help."

She gave a tiny gasp of delight, grinning ear-to-ear and reaching her hand up toward him. He paused, realizing she was trying to hold his as they walked, but pretended he didn't notice and kept on. They made their way through the muddy streets, Hazel taking frequent downward glances to make certain she was still there. His Scroll beeped, and taking a look saw the message from Watts: 'Where are you??' He quickly tapped out a reply; 'Had to take care of something be right back'

In only a few minutes they had reached a police outpost and though he was naturally wary of calling attention to himself, especially with law enforcement, he rapped his calloused knuckles on the door. It immediately flew open, a portly man doing a double-take at the figure in front of him.

"Oh-hello sir. What's the trouble?"

Hazel gestured to the small girl beside him, handing the officer the paper she'd had, "This child approached me...she was, apparently, abandoned by her mother. The note lists a relative."

The officer took the paper, looked from it to the girl, who waved at him, then shrugged, "Look, I know you mean well, but here's the thing; I know this kid. Her mom is a good-for-nothing drunk and is always in some sort of crisis. This isn't the first time she's ditched her and vanished. She'll probably be back soon. There's nothing we can do."

Hazel cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

Again the officer shrugged, then coughed and handed the paper back, "I said there's nothing we can do. You can leave her here, or at the pub on Eighth, or Cherry and Pilwin. Those are her favorite haunts. Bye."

With that he shut the door practically in Hazel's face. His fists clenched, part of him wanting to punch a hole right through it. He wasn't naïve; the lines between good and evil in the world were, quite often, more blurry than most cared to believe or admit, however he still found himself entertaining the notion that at least some of those that were supposed to be in a position of protecting others would do just that.

He looked down at the child, whose wide eyes were wavering and uncertain, having clearly comprehended the adult's discussion. So she was truly on her own, with no one willing to lend a hand...except him. Despite his better judgement, in a flash of something deep and long-forgotten he sighed again and extended his hand to her, "If you still wish, I'll help you."

Her expression brightened, just a little, and she reached up, her tiny hand managing to wrap around several of his fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked as they made their way back toward the shop where his companions were, likely, impatiently awaiting his return.

"I'm Greta!" she proudly declared, then held up her toy, "And this is Stinky! What's yours?"

He inhaled sharply, stopping short. It wasn't her name, but it was close enough to send an aching stab through his chest. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself again, pushing the emotions and memories back into the corners of his mind where they usually were, he glanced at her and nodded.

"I'm Hazel. I'm going to take you to your family, Greta. I promise."

Watts paced briskly, hands tightly clasped behind his back and mouth pressed to a thin line. Tyrian stood much more casually, leaning against a tree at the edge of town where they'd decided to meet. His tail waved lazily and he watched the doctor's increasingly agitated state with amusement.

"Oh Watts you'll wear a rut in the ground at this pace," he said with a chuckle and stretched, "I'm certain our compatriot will be here any minute."

"Where IS that oaf?! This was HIS idea and now he's run off to who-knows-where!" he gestured to the sky with it's dark, roiling clouds, "It's going to downpour any moment and he can't even-finally!"

As he was ranting Hazel turned the corner of a nearby building and approached them. Watts raised his hands palms up in a sarcastic gesture, "Ah, at last, he returns. Now, let's get out of here. We-"

He froze mid-sentence, as now Greta peered out from behind Hazel's coat and gaped curiously at him and Tyrian. The scorpion Faunus perked up instantly, making a soft 'oooh' sound. Hazel moved his hand to indicate to her to stay back and at this Watts drew a sharp, deep breath, drawing himself up.

"Hazel. What. Is that?"

The large man glanced at Greta, then back to Watts. He had overheard how the doctor had referred to him and chose his response accordingly, "I believe this is what most would call a child."

"You know PERFECTLY well what I mean!" Watts barked, jabbing a finger in his direction, "Why is she with you?"

Hazel sighed, full well knowing this was going to be inordinately difficult no matter what, "She approached me seeking help, and I discovered her mother has abandoned her. She was kind enough at least to include a note listing a nearby relative. I'm taking her to them."

Watts rubbed his temples, his face reddened with frustration, "You can't possibly be serious..."

Tyrian snorted, "I don't recall Her Grace saying anything about babysitting stray children. Did you forget we have a job to accomplish?"

"Thank you dear Tyrian!" Watts quickly replied, then addressing Hazel pointed at Greta, "This is not your responsibility or problem. Put it back where you found it, and be quick we need to make headway before it rains or gets too dark."

Hazel said nothing for a moment. He knew this was exactly the response he would get, and had prepared for it.

"Fellstone, where her aunt lives, is right on our way. With the winds how they are, even with these two detours, we'll get to our next stop on time or ahead of schedule. And speaking of responsibility, if anything should go wrong I will shoulder it myself."

His teammates stared in defeated exasperation; they knew all too well that once he'd set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Watts threw his hands in the air, grumbling and cursing and spun on his heel as he began the trek back to their ship. Hazel mumbled to Greta to stay close as he set off as well. The small girl clutched his coattails, having to trot to keep up. Tyrian slunk off the tree and took up the rear of the group, eyeing Greta now with curiosity...or how a snake does a mouse. He crept up closer, and finally the girl noticed. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, watching his tail sway hypnotically.

"Do you like it?" he said in a sweetly venomous voice, "I certainly do...though many others don't..."

Hazel jerked his head to glower at the Faunus, "Leave her alone."

"Oh, but she's just curious! All I'm doing is providing some entertainment for her for the walk! Surely-"

"Leave. Her. Alone." he repeated, this time in a low threatening growl.

Chuckling, Tyrian raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and picked up the pace until he reached Watts, his tail gently resting on the doctor's back. He grinned and winked over his shoulder, and Greta held Hazel's coat a little tighter.

Slowly at first, then swiftly picking up into a steady rhythm, the rain finally came only minutes later. With a disgruntled shout of 'I told you' Watts unfurled his umbrella and took off towards the ship, which was now in sight, although still a ways off. Tyrian tried to shelter himself as much as possible with him, mockingly calling behind them to hurry.

Hazel picked up his pace; he had never minded the rain, but they did need to move quickly. Greta, still clinging to his coat, now struggled even more to keep up. She panted and moved her small legs as fast as she could, but between his naturally long strides and the wet ground she just couldn't-and tripped, tumbling to her knees. She knelt where she'd fallen, clutching her toy and started to cry. Hazel stopped a couple steps ahead and sighed.

"Come on, you need to get up."

"I caaaaan't!" she sniffled, "You're too fast and I'm getting tired!"

"You have to try."

"I can't!!" she repeated, then curled in on herself miserably.

He exhaled wearily. He had chosen to take charge of this situation, and now he needed to find ways to navigate it. They had to move, but she was clearly exhausted especially after everything she'd no doubt been through. An idea came to him...

"Greta."

She looked up at him from the muddy ground, her blue eyes clearly showing her weariness yet still holding that fearless fire. He knew she had a fighter's spirit, she must if she was able to survive on her own. He decided to nurture that, while also clearing up this obstacle.

"Sometimes, you'll be tired and hurting and want to give up. You can't. You have to try to push yourself just a little more to reach your goal. If you get up and walk to me I will carry you the rest of the way."

She regarded him solemnly, then wiping her face with one hand pushed herself to her feet and as confidently as she could muster, made her way to him, where she squared her shoulders as she looked up, "I did it."

"Good. Now then..."

He scooped her up with one arm, her slight weight nearly nothing to him, and started to walk. In moments he noticed the rain still pelting her, even worse now that it had picked up further. Yet another idea crossed his mind, one that would shelter her from the brunt of it and enable him to move faster. He loosened the belt overlaying his coat, tugging it aside enough to place her underneath, where she was now tucked against his chest and torso and re-cinched the belt, essentially turning it into a makeshift sling.

"Hold on." he said, and he felt her knot her hands in his shirt as he took off at a run.

Greta peered out as they moved, seeing the trees lining the road fly by. She held tight as he'd instructed, feeling his warmth and the strong, steady drumbeat of his heart. He had been so nice to her, even though he was big and looked kinda mean. Most people were actually mean. He reminded her of her papa...she barely remembered him, except that he was big and nice too. She smiled, nestling herself snugly against him and feeling happier than she had in a long time.

A couple minutes later Hazel made it inside the ship, taking a moment to rest from running in the now deluge outside. Watts and Tyrian were already hard at work on repairs, and Tyrian looked up at him with a fake pout.

"Oh, poor thing, you're soaked through!"

Hazel ignored him and went to his quarters, which normally on one of these ships was meant to sleep three people but was the only room big enough for him. Removing his charge from his coat and setting her on the unused bed, he then shed the garment entirely. Stepping into the tiny adjoining bathroom he grabbed a clean towel, coming back to her.

"You need to dry off. Here..." he carefully rubbed her head and she giggled, shaking out what he now realized was a soft auburn-brown hair. The rain had actually cleaned her up quite a bit. He then wrapped the towel snugly around her and told her to keep it on for a while. This done he sat heavily on his own bed across from her to plot his next move; he was loathe to admit he hadn't a clue what he was doing. Step one; get her off the street, sheltered, and on her way to her aunt, was complete. Now step two..?

He looked through the open door of the room, then back to her, sitting there swinging her legs and making her toy 'walk' across the blankets, "Are you hungry?"

Greta nodded, "I could eat a doughnut thiiiiiis big!" And spread her arms as far as she could.

"Then I'll get you something," he stood, not letting her see him wince. It was true he couldn't feel pain, but all the stiffness and joint damage he'd done to himself cropped up from time to time. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He made his way to a small back area that served as a crude kitchenette, opening a cabinet to see what they had left. Some military rations left from Brothers-knew-when that they'd ignored, Watt's stash which was strictly off-limits, though for a moment Hazel considered it, some canned goods, and then a few of his own homemade protein bars and pre-packaged pastries. He took one of the protein bars and an apple danish and headed back. Upon entering he didn't see her, so he knelt to look under the beds and finding nothing, started to feel a ripple of concern.

"Greta?" he inquired.

His ears caught the softest rustle and giggle, and upon her bed saw the blanket move ever so much. He realized now where she was and stepped over to flip the blanket aside. Out popped a proudly grinning Greta, "BOO! You found me!"

"Good, I thought you'd wandered off."

"Awwww!" she pouted, "But I'm a scary ghost!"

"...Is the scary ghost still hungry?"

"YEAH!"

Greta jumped to her feet and upon spotting the danish, practically tried to climb him to get at it. He quickly handed it over and she plopped herself in the middle of the bed, tearing into the food with gusto, doing little bounces and hums of joy. He sat across from her, slowly eating the protein bar she'd rejected and wondering for probably the dozenth time what he'd gotten into.

Abruptly the vessel shuddered, and he could hear the engines roaring to life coupled with Watt's triumphant shout. The ship started to lift off, and Greta gasped, dropping the wrapper from her danish and scrambling to the window, seeing the ground move further away.

"Are we flying Mr. Hazel?!"

"Yes."

She began to bounce on the mattress, chanting and laughing "I'm flying I'm flying!" while flapping the towel she still wore like a pair of wings. Seeing her overjoyed by something to him so mundane, and often grim depending on the situation, plucked some long-dormant thread in his soul and he actually felt himself crack a small smile.

"I thought you were tired." he wondered.

"I-am-but-I'm-too-busy-flying-!" she answered in between bounces, then suddenly cried, "Oh no I've been attacked I'm falling catch meeeee!"

Crouching for extra power, Greta leapt and launched herself off the bed right at Hazel. Caught off guard, he nevertheless leaned forward and easily caught her, where she wriggled in his arms and laughed. He raised his eyebrow, again pondering why in the world she'd chosen him...but he was starting to be glad for it. After a minute she stopped and even started to slump against him. He pried her off and held her out to see her eyes slowly blinking, and she yawned loudly.

"I'm...sleepy...too much...flying. Had to make it to...the castle..."

"Then let's get you to bed."

He stepped across to her bed, fixing the blanket as much as possible before setting her down and pulling the covers over her. She suddenly bolted upright, lamenting, "Stinky?! Where's Stinky?"

Hazel bent and lifted the toy from the floor where it'd fallen during her aerial mishap, his best guess being it was a badger, and handed it over. Greta clutched the animal lovingly to her chest and Hazel stood.

"Be careful with your friends. Alright, I'll be right nearby if you wake up and need something. Goodnight, Greta."

"Wait!! Don't leave me! Mama left please don't leave me alone again!"

"I have to go keep watch so you're safe."

"Pleeeeeease?!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.

He paused, seeing the genuine fear and longing for some sort of reassurance in her face, then sighed, sitting on her bed and scooting so his back was resting on the wall. He gestured and she scrambled into his arms, leaning against him as he held her to his torso, where she settled with a long, contented hum. He fully expected her to pass out at any moment.

But then, she craned her neck to gaze up at him, "Can I have a bedtime story?"

He pinched his brow; ah yes. He should have expected this. Though he did do plenty of reading and knew many tales, the bedtime story variety wasn't his forte. He thought for a moment, clearing his throat and Greta leaned forward with expectation.

"Once upon a time, a young girl took a ride on a flying ship. It was a beautiful day, and soon it was night, with lots of stars. She had had a long trip, and got tired. She went to sleep and had wonderful dreams and when she woke up, she was with her family. The end."

Greta stared blankly at him, then pouted, "That's not a real bedtime story!"

"If I tell you another do you promise to try and sleep?" he grumbled, but with a growing tone of affection.

"Pinky promise!" she declared, holding up her small hand.

He hesitated for a moment, but then finished the gesture with her...and a flash of memory he hadn't asked for came to him-

-"If I win this race, you have to do the dishes. If you win, I will!" said Gretchen with her usual bravado.

"Are you going to try and get out of it again?" Hazel replied with a sarcastic smile.

She held out her hand, "Nope! Not this time! I pinky promise!"-

He let his eyes fall shut, carefully refolding the memory and upon remembering another, one perfect for this moment, opened them again. This tale had always been her favorite.

"Very well. Let me tell you the story of The Brave Weaver Girl and the Golden Tree..."

The rain had let up considerably, now simply a gentle patter against the windows, and streaks of moonlight broke through the clouds. Greta was still curled in a ball in Hazel's lap as he continued to speak.

"...and at last, the brave weaver girl had defeated the shape-shifter, and taking some of the golden fruit of the tree to sell, went home to her family. The end."

He glanced down; her eyes were almost closed and her breathing slow and steady. Very carefully, he slid off the bed and turned, gingerly setting her on it and pulling the blanket over her. She hummed, pulling her stuffed toy closer and yawning again as she finally shut her eyes. He slowly started to back away, taking a pillow and a novel with him, hoping she wouldn't notice...and just barely caught her whisper-soft murmur as she said, "G'night papa..."

He stopped short, the shock hitting like he'd been kicked in the gut. ...Papa? His chest tightened uncomfortably and he swallowed hard, conflicting emotions he hadn't known he was still even capable of clawing at him. Exiting, he silently shut the door and turned so his back was against the wall, slumping down until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor to begin his vigil.

Her words kept echoing in his mind. Did she actually believe he was, and that's why she'd approached him? No, if she did she would have said so. It was most likely then she simply saw him as a father figure, a notion that sat heavily in his heart.

He was no type of man to be a father. The things he'd done, the pain he'd caused, all in the promise of a different, hopefully better future yes, but still...he didn't deserve such an honor. Briefly he looked back at his younger self and recalled the time he'd wanted a family of his own someday...a dream long dead.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he flicked his gaze upward to find Watts standing there, a mug of what smelled like coffee in one hand and his Scroll in the other. The doctor stared at him disparagingly for a moment before he spoke.

"May I inquire as to why you're sitting there?"

Hazel glanced around before quietly answering, "I don't trust him."

"Ah, yes, Tyrian did mention you'd ended up bringing your little pet along after all. Well, I'm still not a fan of the whole situation however I'm clearly outmuscled," he leaned against the wall opposite Hazel and took a sip of his drink, "I am curious though; why her? What compelled you to not turn her away?"

"She came to me. I..." he trailed off, having been forced for the first time to truly stop and consider it, "She was an innocent, alone. I know that fate all too well."

"Aaah, I see. Ironic, isn't it?" Watts sniffed, "I wonder how many people you've...dispatched, and here you are suddenly deciding this one life is worth saving. Curious."

Hazel felt his hands clench as they rested on his knees; he was well aware of the many lives he had taken and the, as Watts had put it, ironic nature of this venture. He also was in no mood to be reminded.

He looked Watts squarely in the eyes and said, in that tone denoting having had enough, "If you have nothing productive or helpful to say, I'd like some peace and quiet."

With the faintest eye roll, Watts pushed himself off the wall and turned on his heel towards the front of the ship, saying over his shoulder, "We'll be passing through Fellstone in the morning. Goodnight Mr. Rainart."

Hazel unclenched his fists and let his shoulders relax, having not realized just how much he'd had them tensed. Watt's words had struck a chord, leaving him now with a bitter taste in his throat and dark thoughts he'd hoped to avoid for at least one night. He glanced at the door behind him, through which slept one tiny girl, one that in the brief time she'd been with him, had brought him trouble he hadn't planned on...but also a slight, fragile sliver of joy and even healing. Soon he'd be sending her on her way, but that was good. That was what she needed. For the second time that day, he felt himself forming a small, wistful smile.

Leaning back with the pillow behind his head, he opened his book and settled in for a long, sleepless night...

He sat up with a start, nearly banging his head on the wall. It was much brighter around, and he realized it must be morning. Turning he saw the door was ajar, and with a groan from stiff joints and passing out in an awkward position, he stood and opened the door a little further, stepping in the room. He called her, but got no answer, and assuming it may will be another case of hide-and-seek pulled back the covers of her bed and even the others–but found no sign of her. Fighting back the panic starting to brew, he stepped back into the hall area and called her. It was then he heard her giggling coming from the front control area of the ship and he immediately made his way there-where he froze.

Tyrian sat crouched on a pilot's chair, his tail wrapped around Greta's waist as he rocked her gently back and forth like a swing.

In two long strides Hazel made it over and scooped the small girl up to hold her on his shoulder, cold fury in his eyes, "What are you doing?" he all but growled.

Tyrian stood and wisely sidled around the large man, grinning ear-to-ear, "Ah! Good morning! As I said before, I simply wish to entertain our young guest! She was all alone, poor dear, so Uncle Tyrian came to the rescue! Didn't I, little one?"

"Get out." Hazel stated in a tone that did not invite any further discussion, and Tyrian backed out of the area and out of sight, his smile no less taunting.

It was about an hour later that Watts announced they were near Fellstone and he was going to land the ship a safe distance away. From putting the address into his Scroll, Hazel had realized her aunt's place was a small farm toward the edge of town which was perfect; the less people saw them the better. The thick fog that had settled over the land after last night's rain would further disguise them.

With what time the pair had left, Hazel spent much of it telling her stories and she spun her own yarns, though they were generally much more disjointed.

"Are you gonna stay with us?" she asked at one point as she traced invisible patterns on his arm.

"No. I can't, I have places I need to go. I'm sorry."

"Oh..." she said with disappointment, pressing herself into him a little more, "Okay...hey!" She brightened and clapped her hands, "Maybe you can come visit!"

He felt his stomach knot up. No. He knew what he was, what he'd still have to do, how death and danger were always nipping his heels. The moment she found out who he truly was she'd rightfully despise him-as well as be in grave danger herself. No...it was safest for her if she never saw him again. "Perhaps. We'll have to wait and see..."

Finally, Watts called to him that he was going to land as close as he could, and that they had to make it quick in order to stay on schedule. Hazel sighed and gently picked her up, making her make sure she had Stinky, and they made their way to the outside hatch and down the ramp.

It was damp, and the fog was so dense it obscured the small farmhouse only a short ways off, and thankfully the airship behind them. Through the mist however, Hazel could see lights on in the house and could hear sounds of life. Greta gasped, chattering about the times she'd been here before and all the fun things she'd done. He listened to her well, taking a mental snapshot of this moment to tuck away for when times were harder, to have a small bright spot to look upon and hope everything he did was worth it in the end.

When they had gotten as close as he dared without him possibly being seen, he set her down, making sure the note she had had with her when he found her was still in the pocket of her dress. He then knelt, also as he had done just the day before.

"Now," he said kindly but sternly, "I held up my end of our deal. I got you to your family, now do you remember your part?"

She saluted, "Be strong, be brave, be good, and don't be a Huntress!"

"Very good. Now then..." he stood, "Go on."

She didn't move, just stared at him with those bright blue eyes. He raised his eyebrow, "Yes?"

She held her arms up, and he realized what she wanted. Lifting her he gave her one more hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, "Thank you Mr. Hazel...I'll never forget you. Thank you for being my Papa for a while."

He again felt that kick in his gut but kept himself steady, telling her it had been his honor, and he set her back down. Without another word she turned and ran toward the house shouting happily. He watched her go with a silent prayer, taking a small piece of what was left of his heart with her. A door flew open and a woman came out, calling her in confusion. The woman scooped her up and held her while crying joyfully; clearly this was indeed her relative. Hazel exhaled with a rare feeling of contentment; she was home.

"Greta! My goodness how did you get here?!" her aunt exclaimed in astonishment.

The girl turned and pointed, "The big nice man rescued me! ...mister?"

But by that time Hazel had turned and left, vanishing into the fog...

-EPILOGUE-

Hazel stood in the woods, the fading sunlight shimmering in golden beams through the thick trees, the air beginning to cool. He felt the weight of his axe across his shoulders and could hear the soft calls of birds and the distant bark of a fox.

Where in the world...?

His nose caught a faint whiff of wood smoke and some sort of food, and he looked around to see a small cluster of houses on the gently sloping hillside near him, with many more in the valley below. One house, set just apart from the others, had wisps of smoke coming from it's chimney, and he could now also hear faint voices.

Oh. Yes. Of course. He was heading home after a day at the lumber mill. It was a good job, and payed well. Dinner would probably be ready soon, unless the kids were especially a handful today. He started toward the house, seeing now signs of movement through the windows. One face appeared and moments later vanished, reappearing as they threw open the front door and started running towards him.

"Papa!! Papa's home!" they called, and two more small figures tumbled out the door as well, all happily calling him. He grinned and knelt, setting the axe down and opening his arms as he braced for impact. Moments later three children collided with him in a flurry of hugs, all excitedly talking over each other as they greeted him and described their day. He chuckled, telling them he'd missed them too and stood, hoisting one under each arm as the third clung to him piggy-back and finished the walk into the house.

Still carrying the kids, Hazel strode into the kitchen area, setting them down in their respective chairs. A tall woman with chestnut hair turned and smiled warmly as she grabbed several plates, "Hey you. Glad you're home."

"Hey..." he returned the smile, stepping up to and gently kissing her, earning a collective 'eww!' from the children. He tried to take the plates from her, offering to set the table, but she yanked them back, asking if he'd washed his hands. He coughed and turned to the sink, and she sighed affectionately.

After dinner, the kids were seated at the large oak dining table, one that Hazel had made himself, with their various craft projects, chatting among themselves while the adults played chess in the living room and enjoyed the cheerful, crackling fire in their fireplace.

"You've been staring at the board for a while. You stumped?"

Hazel shook his head, chin resting on his calloused knuckles, "Not yet."

His wife leaned back with a smug grin, "You're getting much better. Maybe someday you'll win, but-"

He reached and moved a piece a couple places, "I believe that's check."

"Wait how-?!" she scanned the board, then wagged a finger at him with a grin, "Oh ho, I see what you did. Very clever."

He looked up at her, deep brown eyes filled with that challenge and fire he fell headlong into love with what now seemed like ages ago.

"You'll probably still win this game, but you won my heart a million times already."

She paused with her hand above the board and met his gaze in appreciative confusion. Smiling softly with a blush she replied, "Of all the times to say something so romantic...trying to distract me?"

"No. Just being honest."

Her expression softened, smile widening a little, and she leaned across to kiss him tenderly, "I love you too...so much. You just surprised me is all."

"Speaking of surprises," he shifted to place his large hand over her smaller one that was unconsciously resting on her stomach, "When are we going to tell them they'll have a new sibling soon?"

She chuckled, "I guess...now is as good a time as any," turning she called, "Hey! Munchkins! Come here please..."

-He awoke with a choking gasp, bolting upright and sweating, for a few moments throughly bewildered; where was he? Where was his wife, their children? This wasn't his home it was-

Gradually, the fog of sleep seeped away and reality's unwelcome claws sunk their way back into his mind. All of it, the love, the happiness, the peace and sense of normalcy was nothing but the crumbling wishes of his subconscious, no doubt brought on by the previous day's and this morning's detour with Greta. Evidently, the girl must have reignited some embers deep within he had long since assumed to be burned to ash. Now however, alone in the icy moonlight, all of it quickly faded again, along with the faces and laughter of his non-existent family. He didn't bother to hold on to them.

There was no point in mouring that which you've never had and never will, after all.

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby hazel rainart #hazel rwby #rwby fanfiction #rwby oc #fathers day #rwby tyrian #rwby watts #hazel would be a good dad fite me #this too me WAY TOO LONG #I hope someone out there enjoys this #I'm gonna hate it later I know it

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