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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Early Summer 1987

Steve's hosting a going away party. For everyone. Nancy going to Emerson, Jonathan and Argyle back to California, Steve and Robin moving to Indy, Eddie going off to find his fortune, wherever it may lie.

They've been at it all day, drinking and smoking and loving each other in the way you do when you've subverted several apocalypses together. And Steve is happy. He is. Truly. They're getting out of Hawkins, starting their lives, and he'll be with Robin, his other half, his sister, the platonic love of his life.

But as the night continues and Steve looks around his living room, at all these people he loves--at half of the family they built out of tragedy and fear--his joy turns to melancholy. They're spreading in the wind, chasing the dreams they put on hold to save the world. It's a bittersweet end, and suddenly Steve can't be in the house anymore.

He slips out the sliding door, fully expecting to be alone, but Eddie stands at the edge of the pool, glow of a cigarette illuminating his face. Steve's stomach flips, skitters with butterfly wings, like it always does when he and Eddie are together.

Eddie turns at the sound of the door thumping softly shut, face creasing into a brilliant smile when he spots Steve. It's a smile so beautiful, so genuine, that it makes Steve hurt when it's directed at him. Hasn't been able to help noticing that usually it is, that Eddie--even in full theatrical Eddie-mode--only smiles like this, all dimples and affection, for Steve.

"Okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks.

"Just needed some air."

Eddie offers the cigarette, so Steve sidles up next to him, lining his toes up with the pool edge so they match.

With a nudge, Eddie settles closer, wrapping his arm around Steve's waist. It's not the first time they've embraced like this, not the first time the proximity makes Steve think he'll burst into flame, but it is the first time Steve leans in, rests his head at the join of Eddie's neck and shoulder. They're of a height, and it's just enough that the position is comfortable, easy. Though, everything with Eddie is now.

They smoke in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts before Steve speaks, not even sure if he means to, but the words are tumbling out. "Everything's changing."

"It's a good thing," Eddie says. "Right?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally." Steve runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back. "It's just. Thinking about how nothing will ever be the same after this, you know?"

"Maybe," Eddie agrees. "But--I don't know--You think Dustin isn't going to demand visits to all of us? Cross-country roadtrips every summer?"

Eddie offers the cigarette back to Steve, only this time, he moves to place it between his lips and Steve adjusts to let him. Maybe it's an accident, maybe not, but Eddie's thumb strokes the corner of Steve's mouth. Their eyes meet, something hot, wanting passes between them.

"I'm going to do something," Eddie whispers. His eyes drop to Steve's lips. "Don't kill me, okay? Please."

Steve doesn't get a chance to say he'd never hurt Eddie, not in a million years, because the other man is stomping out the cigarette, slotting their mouths together.

There's no hesitation, no questioning, Steve kisses back and it's so soft, so sweet, gentle in a way that he's never been kissed, not even once. And when Eddie licks at the seam of Steve's lips, he opens without thought, because of course he wants Eddie to taste his mouth, to nip at his lips, to slide their tongues together. He fists his hand into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, pulling them closer together. They moan and sigh, swallowing each other's noises, reveling in sensation.

The sliding door pops open, runners scraping, and Robin's voice singsongs, "Steeeve, we're loooooking for you."

Eddie breaks the kiss, turning away, and Steve stumbles towards the door. Doesn't wonder what Robin knows because he sees it in her face, but she's yanking him into the house and everyone is shouting, Argyle hands him a joint, and he lets himself be pulled along, lets himself forget, doesn't notice when Eddie doesn't come back right away.

And the next morning, when they say their goodbyes and Eddie pulls him into a tight, bone-crushing hug, neither of them mentions it. Eddie says, "don't be a stranger," throws him a smile, and he's gone.

Steve can't explain why it hurts so much.

Winter 1991

The invitation--cream and gold, embossed lettering--sits on Eddie's kitchen counter. He knew it was coming, of course, of course, but it hadn't really prepared him to see it. "The families of Steve Harrington and Rebecca Alsworthy cordially invite you to celebrate their nuptials..." burns itself into his brain.

He's in the wedding. Steve asked months ago if Eddie would be a groomsmen, and he said yes; yes because Steve is his best friend, yes because in the moment it didn't hurt so bad, yes because Steve could ask him for anything and he'd give no other answer.

They never talked about what happened the night before they both left Hawkins. It's fine. Truly. Better this way. Steve is straight. So straight he's getting married, and that's good. What he's always wanted, six little nuggets, etc. Eddie is happy for him. He's happy for Steve, but it eats him up inside; the kiss, the love he harbors for his best friend. He should end it, he knows, but ending it is so final and Steve is--everything.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he picks up the phone, makes the call. Tells Steve he can't make it, book deadline, and Steve is disappointed. He is. But they're best friends, saved the world together, so he understands.

When the call is done, his heart hanging together by a thread, he balls up the invite and throws it in the trash.

Summer 1991

Steve's wedding is in 12 hours and Eddie has to go. Can't believe he ever thought he could miss it. He can't not be there when Steve, his Steve, gets married. It doesn't matter how much it'll hurt to watch, because it will make Steve happy and Eddie will always default to making his best friend happy.

Somehow, through the grace of clear summer weather and light Indiana traffic, he makes it to the church with ten minutes to spare. He practically trips through the carved wood front doors, which would be embarrassing, except his eyes fall immediately to Steve standing at the alter and he forgets everything else. He's wearing a navy blue suit, silver accenting, and he's gorgeous. Will never not be. Their eyes meet, and Eddie's heart stops, because it always does. Steve smiles, gives a little wave, but he's pulled away by the minister, and Eddie makes his feet move down the aisle.

He spots Nancy, El, Max, and Erica in a pew, makes his way towards them. They all hug, scream about being back together, but it's Nancy whose eyes are soft, whose smile doesn't quite manage to be happy.

"You okay?" she asks. She wraps her little fingers around his.

His smile doesn't manage to be happy either. "I will be."

The ceremony starts, and he's fine, really, until Rebecca starts walking out to Steve, and he watches his best friend's face light up brighter than a cloudless day. He lets his attention go, then. In the moment where it truly counts, he can't stand to witness the man he loves marry someone else.

And Rebecca is fine, she is, but it's not about her. It's about a kiss in the middle of the night after they saved the world for the last time, and hope, and a love so sweet Eddie's entire chest is rotten with it.

He's out of it until Steve's voice manages to pull him back. He's saying, "I, Steve," and his eyes are locked to Rebecca's, and he's in the middle of repeating after the minister, who's saying "take thee, Rebecca."

Steve smiles, soft and gentle and fond, and he says--the words that come out of his mouth are, "take thee, Eddie--"

His loving smile evaporates, face going rigid with shock.

It's a punch, a kick to the groin, a knife in the gut, all the air in Eddie's lungs snaps out of his body. Nancy squeezes his hand, her nails digging into his skin, and he can't look at anyone else, can't see the reaction, because he's looking at Steve, and Steve is looking at him, abject panic on his handsome face.

Steve stumbles back, Rebecca's hands fallen from his, and Robin grabs him around the shoulders. She bends forward, whispering something in his ear, but it's too late. Steve's eyes are glassy, his body trembling.

"S-sorry, I need to--I have to--Sorry," the man says. He runs.

Eddie makes to stand, but Nancy, El, Max, and Erica force him to stay seated, and Robin's already running after her platonic soulmate, anyway.

"It didn't mean anything," Eddie says. "It was just--he was just. He's marrying Rebecca. It didn't mean anything."

It means everything.

Post inspired by @antithetical-dream-girl 's coney island au, except this is when Ross says Rachel

#steve doesn't have a sexuality crisis #he has an i'm in love with eddie crisis #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #friends au #the one where steve says eddie #mutual pining #eddie is in love with steve #best friends to lovers #angst #oblivious steve harrington #wedding #steve can't stop imagining that it's eddie standing up there with him #what do you do when you realize you're in love with your best friend at your wedding to someone else #panic

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kierancaz · 2 years

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“It is a gift. A token of our friendship.” No bitch that was a proposal.

#grow a pair Thorin and just admit it for what it was #you want to MARRY HIM #ik he’s going mad rn but every time Thorin smiles a Bilbo even the slightest my heart gives out a little #tbh I really love all the dwarves they’re so ?????#maybe it’s just bc I’ve watched the movie like 3 times a week for the last month but I love them all so much now #for reference I didn’t care that much about them when I watched for the first time #and on a slightly random note I wanna know more about Legolas mom ????#back to bagginshield I wonder what their wedding would have looked like #IMAGINE THORIN WITH HIS ABSOLUTLY HUGE HANDS TRYING TO BRAID BILBOS HAIR BC THATS DWARVISH TRADITION #AND HES JUST STUGGLING SO HARD BC BILBOS HAIR IS SO SHORT AND HIS HANDS ARE SO BIG HE CANT GET A GOOD GRIP ON THE HAIR #bilbo: Thorin you don’t have to everyone alread knows we’re married #Thorin: NO I have to do this #he’s not a quitter. he’s never been a quitter. he’s not letting a few stands of hair beat him even if it IS bilbos hair #he has to teach bilbo how to braid tho bc he doesn’t know #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #bilbo x thorin #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #bagginshield #thorin and company #lotr dwarves #jrr tolkien #tolkien #fili durin #kili durin #fili and kili #thorin durin

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larphis · 8 months

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I know the brainrot is strong but I really can’t shake the idea that Ed&Stede are gonna get married - whether it’ll be in this season or the next.

Because… just imagine if they’d keep the wedding toppers that Ed stole.

(I mean Stede would probably cry out of the sheer wave of emotions that would hit him as soon as he’d find out about them… come on, the guy couldn’t even decide on a flag and instead hung all of his crew’s designs up like a dad who pins his kids’ drawings to the fridge)

And eventually there would be a parallel shot of the time Ed stole them from the straights to “current day” where the painted versions are sitting on a brand new wedding cake and as the camera zooms out we see them at an improvised altar on the Revenge, holding hands and smiling like the goofy head-over-heals in love idiots that they are.

#our flag means death #ofmd 2 #ofmd teaser #ofmd headcanon #ofmd brainrot #stede bonnet #Edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd #our flag means death season 2 #gentlebeard wedding #extra bit of headcanon:#imagine if both Lucius and Izzy would share the roles of the priest because Lucius would be obsessed with the idea of planing a wedding #(Even though he’d probably still be pissed at Ed - but I have the feeling that he’d forgive him eventually with an annoyed eyeroll)#and Izzy would just wanna do it in hopes of sabotaging the wedding and with the thoughts of #‘Fine Edward if this is what you want I’ll make sure that the day will might as well be memorable’#so while Izzy and Lucius totally turn the whole ceremony into one big event of unorganized chaos and screaming and bickering #we get another shot of Ed and Stede just gazing into each others eyes with the most love drunken smile ever - not even minding what these #idiot children of theirs are up to now #this headcanon was brought to you by:#I just really want some wholesome Gentlebeard wedding fluff and I am so desperate that I might as well create it myself if no one else does

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alfiely-art · 2 months

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Um. What if I and my mutuals were birds. What then

Og image

*posts this then disappears so I don't delete it*

#sorry if this is. cringe !!!!!!! idk. i like you guys #it was fun imagining how wed all look like as birds #but ermm. if you. do not want me to do sfuff like this lmk. idk #sowwy i dont feel good and im overly worried this art of. birds. will make people mad.#idk.#mutuals #drawing #art #my art #digital art

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wyattjohnston · 1 year

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or run away - jack hughes

series: we don’t have no time to waste

summary: it isn't always easy.

note: i've had this idea for months now and as far as i'm concerned it was going to be canon in this universe regardless of whether or not i wrote the fic.

i implore anyone and everyone to fight for access to safe and legal abortions.

word count: 3,580

warning: very frank mentions of abortions including the decision process, abortion related medical descriptions, emetophobia, references to eating disorders (bulimia), maternal death. please excuse any inaccuracies, i tried my hardest and did a lot of research but cannot promise this is flawless

Daisy heard the front door open and the loud conversation between Jack and Ty cut off suddenly, presumably as they took in how dark the apartment was. She managed to sit up in bed, resting weakly against some pillows and be smiling when he peeked his head into their bedroom.

He didn’t look convinced.

He sat down on the mattress beside her, crossing his legs and leaning forward to press his hand to her forehead—she wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell if she had a temperature but she appreciated the gesture.

“Have you gotten out of bed at all since I left?”

Daisy shrugged, saying, “It’s been less than 12 hours.”

“Yeah, but it’s already been two days and that’s two more days than you should have been in bed.”

“I don’t have any energy,” Daisy sighed, slumping back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me; I haven’t been this sick in years.”

“I’m gonna call the doctor and try get you an appointment for tomorrow. You should be at least a little better by now.”

Jack helped her move down so that she was back under the covers, moving around enough so that he could tuck the covers up under her chin. He kissed her forehead, ignoring her protests that she didn’t want to get him sick, too. He wasn’t worried about it, though, because she didn’t have any obviously contagious symptoms and hadn’t even when she first started feeling unwell.

There was a conversation about what she’d eaten—crackers, but even they were tough to keep down—and the worry across Jack’s face was worse than she’d seen in years.

She made him go out to get her a glass of water and some more crackers, just so he would be distracted, and also asked him to send Ty in to say hello if only because they were both her boys and she needed the normality of Ty’s Roadie Recap even if they’d just ventured to MSG for the day.

Daisy didn’t hate doctors in a crunchy-mom sort of way, but, as much as she understood why they were necessary and that they were the quickest way to work out what was wrong, she didn’t like them.

Her memories of the hospital visits to see her mom weren’t vivid—a combination of her young age and ability to repress memories meant all hospitals blended together in a haze of sterile white walls and antiseptic and the ending nobody wanted—though it was the aura and the associated memories that did her in.

And it all came rushing back even when she was just heading into a doctor’s surgery.

None of it was very pleasant, especially not when she was already regretting even getting out of bed.

Still, she managed her way through a polite chat with the nurse, explained what was going on and was asked approximately a million questions while her vitals were taken. It was just like every time she showed up for a new prescription for the pill, only the nurse was making a few curious noises that Daisy wasn’t used to.

If only she had the energy to care.

Daisy didn’t hate doctors but she did hate how long they made her wait.

She was nearly falling asleep in the waiting room chair when her name was finally called by her usual doctor—a middle aged man with a terse demeanour who she’d found when she first moved to New Jersey and hadn’t ever left because he prescribed her what she needed without too much hassle. A smile wouldn’t kill him, though.

They went through the same conversation she had with the nurse, that she’d spent the previous two days in bed and a few days before that hardly able to keep food down.

“The nurse said that you didn’t get your period last month so I need to ask: is there any possibility that you could be pregnant, Daisy?”

“No,” Daisy said quickly, then hesitated and added, wide eyed and high pitched, “Well, I mean yes but we’re so careful about protection. Like we don’t have sex if there’s no condoms left and I’m also on the pill like—I can’t be pregnant.”

“To rule it out and for peace of mind, I’d like to do a test. You can take this jar to the bathroom right now and we can know in a few minutes, or I can draw some blood but that might take a couple of days to get a result back.”

“I’ll go pee,” Daisy whispered, picking up the small jar and taking a steadying breath. “It’ll kill me if I have to wait.”

She also wanted to talk to Jack and didn’t want to have to wait for the doctor to draw blood. Her phone was out of her pocket before she’d even left the room, her lip quivering. She kept her head low as she walked to the bathroom and could feel the rattle in her breath when Jack picked up.

“Are you done already?”

“Jack, he thinks I could be pregnant.”

“He always throws that out there as a suggestion, though,” Jack countered easily. “You come and tell me he’s said that after every appointment.”

Daisy wanted to be able to laugh about it, about how he’d asked her if she could be pregnant when she walked in with a poison ivy rash on her arm all because she regularly used the pill to skip her period entirely—and when she didn’t skip it, it didn’t always come.

Daisy put the jar down on the counter in the bathroom, staring at it as she whispered, “This time he’s making me pee in a cup.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well… we can deal with that,” Jack said, the calmness in his voice so unbearably fake that Daisy let a tear fall. He sounded less fake, more determined, when he added, “You won’t be, anyway.”

Daisy did laugh then, weak and wet, wondering if she could actually just will herself to not be. She whispered, “I hope not,” into the phone and her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s gonna be okay, Daze.”

Daisy looked down at the jar again, sighing.

“I have to pee now,” she said solemnly, smiling a little at Jack’s abrupt laugh. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Call me when you’re done. Either way. I love you.”

Daisy agreed, if only because Jack sounded desperate.

The house was eerily dark and quiet, the boisterousness she usually encountered when she walked through the door missing as if the boys were on a road trip and it was unsettling knowing that they weren’t and should have been back from practice.

Jack was waiting quietly by the front door; Ty was nowhere to be seen.

Daisy wanted to go to bed, she wanted to cry, she wanted to vomit and it looked like Jack might’ve been in the same boat. She couldn’t remember a time he’d been so pale.

He reached out to touch her, his fingers barely brushing over her hips before Daisy was taking three steps back with her arms stiff by her sides.

“Please don’t touch me.”

“Daisy…” Jack said cautiously, his face turning a murky grey.

Daisy sighed, blinking back tears, “It’s not—I worked so hard to get past that and to change how I think but I—Jack, I don’t even want to touch my own stomach right now.”

“It’s not?” He didn’t sound as if he believed her, and she couldn’t fault him for that—not when he’d heard the same thing, that she’d beaten the bulimia, and soon after seen the exact opposite.

“It feels a lot like it, but it’s got nothing to do with what I’ve eaten or—” she inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly. “I really don’t want to be pregnant right now, Jack.”

Jack’s nod was instantaneous and his steps towards her slow. He kept his hands by his own side, letting her know that he wasn’t trying to touch her waist in any way, and Daisy sighed shakily when his forehead touched hers.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice also shaky. “You’ve got school and a plan that doesn’t involve a baby for a few more years.”

Another shaky sigh left her lips as she asked what she’d been dreading to ask the entire drive home, “Do you want to keep it?”

“No? I want you to get to do what you’ve planned and I’m gone a lot so I won’t even be around to help with a baby. And I like our life right now. I’m not ready for a kid.”

Daisy’s vision blurred entirely, and her shaky breathing turned into a full body sob as she collapsed into Jack. He was ready, though, his arms wrapping tightly around her shoulders, a hand cradling her head.

The first thing Daisy did when she woke up the next morning was schedule an appointment online. She didn’t want to wait any longer than she absolutely had to—though that did mean having to schedule around Jack’s games.

He was laying right next to her on the bed as she used her laptop with shaking hands and puffy eyelids. She looked to him before she finalised it, another check that he agreed with the decision being made, and then pushed her laptop onto her cluttered bedside table—not bothered by the things she heard falling to the floor—and buried herself underneath the duvet.

“I’m not going to tell my dad,” she muttered when Jack was buried underneath them with her, the duvet pulled over their heads. “He doesn’t need to know.”

Jack frowned. “Do I tell my folks? Mom’s going to kill me. I’ve got like one big responsibility and it’s to not accidentally get you pregnant and I fucked it up.”

“This is a freak accident,” Daisy assured him, wetness still present in her voice. “If you want to tell them then you should. You can, if you’re asking permission.”

He touched her face—he was being very careful to not accidentally touch her waist or stomach even if he normally would have pulled her closer that way—and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll tell her after. If I tell anyone else…” Jack trailed off.

Ty was the only person they’d told—a by-product of living with him and explaining to him why he’d been booted out so quickly and why there was a heaviness in the house that had never been there before.

Brie—Dougie’s partner—would find out soon enough because Jack planned on calling her to keep Daisy company while he had to play a game against St. Louis.

Daisy offered, to finish his thought, “It might be too real?”

“It’s already pretty real.”

“Yeah, Jack, it’s really real.”

Jack got home after the game, saying goodbye to Brie who had sat on the couch with Daisy to watch the Devils defeated the Blues, and bundled Daisy towards their bedroom without much fanfare other than Daisy stopping to greet Ty and congratulate him on his goal.

It was the happiest she’d been since she started to feel off-colour, a glimmer of hope and return to normal when she’d launched herself off the couch in glee. She told Ty as much as she hugged him tightly.

Jack was smiling at her when she joined him in their room.

“So,” Daisy said, using her renewed vigour to kneel on the bed and talk as Jack changed out of his suit, “I did some research into Judaism and abortions.”

Jack paused halfway through removing his jacket, getting stuck momentarily, and said slowly, “You didn’t have to.”

Daisy shrugged, trying to play nonchalant so she wouldn’t lose her ability to have the conversation, and continued, “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t condemning you to eternal hell or purgatory or whatever.”

Recovering and seemingly understanding Daisy’s need for the conversation to continue at a relatively fast and causal pace, he told her, while still undressing, “Neither of those really exist in Judaism.”

“Oh, well, it wouldn’t matter anyway because Reform Judaism is really cool about it? They’re really into it being the woman’s choice to decide. And while they don’t really want you to just have abortions for fun—which nobody is doing, obviously, despite what the whack jobs think—it’s not a giant unforgivable sin.”

“That’s… good,” Jack said, thinking through what she had said, and taking in the relief it had brought to her face. He reminded her, gently, “Daisy, you’re not Jewish.”

Daisy laughed, sarcastically, falling onto her back with her legs still tucked underneath her so that she could speak to the ceiling.

“Well, my religion is going to condemn me to hell and label me a murderer; I just thought I’d make sure at least one of us was safe.” She sat up again, making sure they were making eye contact when she said, “And I’ll probably be Jewish one day, right? Don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

The softness on Jack’s face was almost like nothing she had ever seen before but it came close to the earnestness in his expression when he’d proposed to her in the Vegas wedding chapel.

“Even if eternal damnation was on the cards for both of us—that doesn’t change anything. Not for me.”

“It doesn’t for me either,” Daisy admitted. “It did make me feel a little bit better, though.”

Jack was skipping practice to take Daisy to her appointment—she’d offered exactly once to have Brie go with her instead and Jack had shut it down.

He’d told Nico that he’d be missing—“I just told him that you had a thing I needed to be there for and he said he hopes you’re okay.”—and Lindy—“He knew what I was talking about. I told him you had an appointment and I had to be there, and he told me he could be discreet if we need any help from him. It was weird. How many guys has he had that conversation with?”

Neither of them cried that day; they were too nervous to do so. They didn’t do much talking, either, but they were never more than an arm’s length from each other from the moment they woke up and that didn’t change until they were at the appointment.

Daisy filled in what felt like truly unholy amounts of paperwork, her shaking hands making her normally perfect handwriting rather illegible. In the seat beside her, Jack was bouncing his me at a million miles a minute and twisting his head around at every noise.

They’d discussed the possibility of Jack being recognised in the conversation about Brie bringing her and, while he acknowledged it as a possibility, he wasn’t going to let it stop him from being there with her.

When she was called into an office, they both sat there and answered questions that Daisy couldn’t remember two seconds after they were asked; Jack answered some when Daisy stalled.

“Do you mind stepping out of the room, Jack?” The nurse asked. “There are some things we need to do that are usually more comfortable without an audience.”

“Uh, yeah. Are you okay with that?” Jack asked, nodding when Daisy nodded up at him. “I think I’m going to call Quinn.”

“That’s a good idea,” Daisy said, feeling a small weight off her shoulders knowing that someone in their family would know.

The nurse explained that they ask partners to leave the room so that they can ask questions that aren’t always well received, or that aren’t always answered truthfully in the presence of a partner. Daisy listened and answered, assuring her repeatedly that Jack hadn’t ever forced her into anything, including the making of the appointment—all she wanted was for Jack to be back and holding her hand.

As they were finally calling Jack back into the room as well as organising the ultrasound technician, Daisy made it clear that she wanted to hear as little from the ultrasound machine as possible. She didn’t want to hear much of what they were saying either.

Neither she nor Jack would see the ultrasound image, or hear much of it, but it was impossible to pretend it wasn’t there.

“Do you—can you tell when, like, conception was?” she asked too loudly for the silence they had been in. “We always use a condom and I’m on the pill so we have no idea when this could have happened.”

“I would probably put it at—” the tech paused for a moment — “the first week of February.”

Daisy’s brow knitted together, her entire face contorting as she tried to think back to when it could possibly have happened, “I don’t—”

“Vegas,” Jack said, interrupting her. He sounded hollow. “I don’t think we used a condom after the wedding.”

She squeezed his hand, already knowing that he was going to take that as a personal failure, and admitted, “I was really bad at taking the pill on time.”

She still is, truthfully, though she was already working out how to be more consistent in taking it.

Jack squeezed her hand right back.

“Do you need time to think about your options?”

“No,” Daisy said immediately. “I’m here for an abortion. We’ve already decided.”

It was hard letting Jack go when they started to prepare her for the surgery. It was the first time she cried all day, clutching his arm and begging them to let him stay with her. Jack wasn’t faring much better despite the strong face he was trying to put on. His attempts at assuring her that she was going to be fine, that he’d be there when she woke up, did little to actually comfort her.

At least the nurse looking after her was there and ready to take Daisy’s other hand, not quite a perfect replacement for Jack but it was better than nothing.

When Daisy did come to, Jack was right there as promised. He looked… relaxed. She felt relaxed. It was quite the contrast from how she’d felt when they pushed the anaesthetic through the IV.

She listened dutifully as she was given instructions on how to look after herself and was happy to hear that she’d be able to get on a plane to Vancouver the next week as long as everything continued to go as smoothly as the procedure had.

“You okay?” Jack asked cautiously when they were left alone.

“Yeah,” Daisy said, a small laugh bubbling out of her. “Was way more scared about being pregnant and now I’m not—so I actually feel really good. You okay?”

Jack nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he wrapped her up in as good a hug as he could manage.

On their way out, some of the relief was lost.

Despite Jack being a strong and firm presence by her side, Daisy could still see and hear the people antagonising her from across the parking lot. She craned her head to get a proper look, but Jack caught her.

“We’ve just gotta get to the car,” Jack said, firmly holding her hand—partly as a source of comfort, but partly to stop her from rushing to meet the protestors face to face.

Daisy groaned, “But they’re assholes and I want to tell them.”

Jack’s laugh was small—he could picture her doing just that quite clearly. “And I’d let you if you hadn’t just been under anaesthetic.”

“They don’t even know what I did in there,” she huffed, unable to tear her eyes away from them. “Maybe I was getting prenatal vitamins.”

“You know they don’t care.”

With all her might, Daisy shouted, “Because they’re assholes!”

Heading back to Planned Parenthood was something Daisy did when she could, knowing that the protestors outside were only getting worse as legislation was changing around the country—as midterm elections were racing closer.

She sat and waited for people to show up and call for an escort, no matter what they were there for, because nobody deserved to walk past the protestors alone.

Daisy met a young woman at her car, dutifully ignoring the heinous things that were shouted in her direction and smiled kindly as the door opened.

“Just don’t stop walking,” Daisy said. “I like your shirt.”

“You’re a Red Wings fan?” the woman asked after looking down to see what shirt she was wearing that day.

“I grew up one, but now I’m more of a Jersey Girl.”

“I know they’ve been bad but I couldn’t imagine changing teams,” the woman said, Daisy could hear the horror in her voice. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard it, the betrayal in someone’s voice when they found out she’d moved on.

She never took it personally, and it served as a good distraction.

“My fiancé has a vested interest in the team, so I don’t really have a choice. Detroit is still my team in my heart; Seider winning then Calder was the most exciting thing to happen this summer.”

“If anyone else won it I would have fought the NHL.”

“I would have been right there with you,” Daisy agreed. She opened the building's front door and was thankful to drown out the yelling when it closed behind them. She said to the young woman, “And I’ll be right there with you when you leave.”

The decision you make is the right one.

#jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #we don't have no time to waste fic #title is from slide by the goo goo dolls #it would be ‘put your arms around me’ but I already used that for a different fic #‘do you wanna get married or run away’ is the whole lyric and well they already did the wedding thing #fic: devils

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invinciblerodent · 5 months

Text

on a lighter note than most of today, I've kinda been amusing myself by thinking about which companion would be the best dancer, because there's definitely a case to be made for pretty much everyone

so far my thinking is that

- if it involves improvisation OR done as a Display, it's Wyll (incredible CHA and performance)

- if there's someone around to copy and/or one-up, it's Astarion (absurd DEX and acrobatics)

- if it's a slow number that doesn't involve a lot of moving around but DOES involve prolonged, intense eye contact, it's Gale (need I say it, he has proficiency in romance)

- if it's done in some tavern/at some party, with a crowd that's like one spilled beer from a bar fight, AND the goal is essentially to have loud, wild fun while feeling each other up, it's Karlach

but sound off

#sometimes I like to imagine what if the tiefling party was more racuous #and if Wyll wasn't feeling so shitty during #how FUN it could have been to have both him and Iona #(both of them with their then-18 cha)#just lead everyone in raunchy songs and silly dances with Alfira #I'm imagining it like every Hungarian wedding I've ever been to #which is like. everyone is drunk #and round dancing while half-holding and half-dragging each other #squirrel plays bg3 #it's my mind-party and I'll imagine my character making a game out of getting all the boys to twirl her if I want to #... who'd be the hardest to get to dance with you #Rolan Zevlor Halsin or Gale #(Astarion is not on this list; he's gonna do it if Wyll does it just to not be outdone)

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innytoes · 2 months

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ok. i can't even read the rest of the list and i imagine there will be other requests for it but... What do you mean, the raccoon stole the ring you planned to propose with? - Willex.

Also for @floating-in-the-blue who did indeed request the same thing and lbr, I put that there as Willex bait.

"What do you mean, you lost the ring?" Julie asked incredulously.

"I mean I lost it!" Alex said, pacing back and forth, back and forth in the studio. "I did something stupid and I lost it and now Willie is never going to marry me because I'm stupid and reckless and-"

"Okay first of all, calm down," Flynn said. "If anyone is into Stupid and Reckless, it's Willie. Didn't you two ride a shopping cart down a hill on your second date?"

"Third," Alex pouted.

"Dude, where did you lose it, we'll help you look," Luke offered. "Or like if you left it in your pocket while doing laundry, we'll... I dunno, as an adultier adult about finding a plumber."

"Oh no it's way worse than that," Reggie piped up, and Alex shot him a glare.

"Shut up this is half your fault."

"Oh, now I know it will be good," Flynn said, leaning forward.

"So you know how we always joke that Willie is secretly a raccoon in human form?" Reggie started, sounding way too cheerful for Alex' liking. He groaned, flopping pathetically onto the rug next to Julie's chair. She patted his head in only mild condescension. Which would soon be full-blown condescension when she learned how stupid he was.

"Yes?" Flynn asked, eager.

"Well, we thought it would be funny to get a picture of Alex proposing to a real raccoon. You know, to post online after Willie said yes."

It would have been funny. Willie would have thought it was hilarious. He didn't like posting pictures of himself on social media, after so long being a photo prop for his rich foster dad, but Alex kind of wanted something to obnoxiously put online because he knew his mom still stalked his socials from time to time.

"So we went over to that pizza place, you know the one, because there's usually some raccoons hanging out behind it near the dumpsters. And we found one and lured it with some marshmallows, and then Alex got out the ring to propose, and I got a few shots, but just as I was lining up the perfect angle..."

"It grabbed the ring and took off," Alex finished miserably.

"We tried to get it back but... raccoons are fast when they want to be!" Reggie shrugged. "I took a video, though. You know, so maybe we could identify the raccoon later and try again."

He was pretty sure Reggie took a video to lord over him forever, because the sight of Alex chasing a raccoon around a parking lot and then begging and waving marshmallows at it at the bottom of a telephone pole was kind of pathetic and something that could be used as blackmail.

"So the raccoon stole the ring you were going to propose with," Julie said, slowly, so slowly. Like she was judging him. Which was fair. Alex was judging himself. On the couch, the sound of Luke and Flynn stifling laughter made everything a million times worse.

"What do you mean the raccoon stole the ring you planned to propose with?" A new voice asked from the door opening.

Alex looked up, wishing the earth would swallow him whole. "Willie," he said, his voice high pitched and creaky. "Hi! Um. I can explain."

"I think I got the gist of it," Willie said, his eyes sparkling and dancing with mirth.

"I'm so, so, so sorry," Alex said. "I thought you'd find it funny!"

"Oh trust me, I do," Willie said, moving to pull him up from his miserable lump on the ground. "And I'm going to want to see that video later," he told Reggie.

"Please no," Alex whined, even though Reggie was totally going to plug it into the big TV in the house so everyone could enjoy it, probably.

"Don't worry about it, Hotdog," Willie soothed, pulling him into a hug. Alex hid his face in his shoulder, letting the feel of his boyfriend's arms around him calm him down a little. Even when everything was shit, he always felt a little better in Willie's arms.

"I lost your engagement ring over trying to make a funny meme," he pointed out.

"Well," Willie said, pulling away. Before Alex knew what was happening, he got down on one knee in front of him, pulling a ring out of his back pocket. "It's a good thing I still have mine, then. Alex Mercer, will you marry me?"

#julie and the phantoms #willex #fanfic #they're stupid your honour #I wrote a thing #they do post one of the pictures Reggie took before the raccoon stole the ring as their engagement announcement #they probably played the video of Alex trying to reason with a raccoon on a loop at their joint bachelor party #OF COURSE ALEX SAID YES #Of course Reggie snapped a few pictures of the actual engagement as well #those are probably hung up in their home somewhere #like can you imagine three frames next to each other: raccoon picture/engagement/wedding photo

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