Mars’ Favorite Fic

Here lies all my favorites Fanfics

[marsficrecs]

Okay but Quifrey not questioning whether Coco could help him or not in the store because he has three young apprentices her age and full heartedly believes in their skill and judgement. He is a teacher at his core and when he sees Coco he can’t help but think of his apprentices. Even if he doubted Cocos ability I bet he would still go with her just to boost her confidence in her craft.

[marsficrecs]

There is no Carl in the book so imagine (also sorry I’m imagining a female reproductive system for this) all Ryland has is you to bounce ideas off of.

You help him build all his structures to make experiments and you both reason out the best way to go about things. So when trying to figure out why astrophage goes to Venus and ultimately figuring out how they reproduce you both are excited.

Ryland is screaming

“A baby! A baby! We made a baby!”

You of course are yelling with him

“WE MADE A BABY!”

In the moment neither of you see the problem with that statement.

It is a fact.

The two of you made the astrophage samples reproduce and you made a baby astrophage. Therefore you and Rylan Grace made a baby.

It only hits you once he is on the phone and tells Stratt with extreme enthusiasm that you and him made a baby.

The gears begin in your head and that’s when you’re like

“Wait Grace no.. don’t say it like that!”

But it’s too late there was that awkward pause on the other end after Stratt said “You… made a baby with your lab partner… perhaps I should have chosen a man to partner with you to prevent this situation..”

And Ryland is like what and then it hits him and he lights up like a Christmas tree.

“NOOOOOOO no no no NOPE!”

He yells at the phone.

His face is red and he looks over at you. Your face is hidden behind your hands. You refuse to make eye contact while he explains this.

“We didn’t…you have it wrong… WE didn’t reproduce! We discovered how the astrophage reproduce! We made an astrophage baby not a… human.. baby…” he trails off in embarrassment.

“Well then that is much better news. I will send someone to get the both of you. I hope there is no other reproduction between the two of you in the meanwhile. That would greatly hinder our future projects.”

And with that Stratt hangs up and it’s just you and Ryland both red faced and not looking at eachother.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Ryland and Reader having a baby.

Rocky protecting the baby 😩

Rocky, hovered near the baby, small in Grace's arms. "I will assist in protection. I will assist in development. I will assist in education."

Rocky taps on the ground.

“I have shared information,” Rocky states.

Ryland’s head snaps toward the entrance. “What information.”

“That there is baby.”

Ryland goes pale. “…You told who.”

Before Rocky can answer, The biodome doors open.And it’s not one Eridian.Not two.It’s dozens.

They don’t rush in aggressively—no, their movements are controlled, but there’s a clear, undeniable energy behind them. Curiosity. Excitement. An entire species encountering something they have never seen before.

A human infant.

Ryland’s brain short-circuits.“Whoa!!!!whoa!!!whoa, guys, guys!” he blurts, instinctively stepping back, turning slightly so his body shields the baby without even thinking about it. “This is....this is a lot of guys!”

You bite back a laugh despite yourself, even as your own heart races a little at the sheer number of them.

The Eridians stop just short of crowding, forming a wide, uneven circle, their tones overlapping in rapid, curious bursts.

“Question?!”

“Clarification?!”

“Observation request!”

“Yes!! This is baby!”

“That is extremely small!”

“Is it complete organism?!”

“Does it grow?!”

Ryland looks like he’s about to pass out.

[hawke-gosling]

Canon, I don't make the rules

[projectquotemary]

*skipping stones across an artificial lake the Eridians made Grace*

Grace: This is nice.

Rocky, who does not understand this Earth activity: Take that you fucking lake.

[marsficrecs]

Okay more thoughts for the project Hail Mary fic.

Grace dancing with another person after thinking he was going to die alone in space???

You are on the ship for project Hail Mary. You know a lot about biology.

In all senses.

You are one of the main contributors to Armando, the robot who is tasked with taking care of everyone when in years long comas. You also figured out just how to put people in long term comas that they can wake from by design

You insisted you needed to come along just in case something happens to Armando. You would wake up periodically while the rest of the crew was under to make sure everything was running right medically and biologically for everyone.

Your last check ran fine. Everyone thing seemed good. You wouldn’t find out until your next awakening that something went wrong.

Ryland Grace woke up before you this time. When he woke up he found two dead people and you. Unable to be woken due to the robots refusal. The chemicals that induced the coma hadn’t run their course yet.

So Rylan spends almost a week alone trying to figure out who he is. Why he is here. And who the people are around him. Two of which he will never get answers from and one, you, who will eventually wake and tell him what hell is going on.

Well.. he’s hoping you wake up and don’t end up like the other two…

Thankfully you do wake up. Woken up by the noise of another human being Ryland rushes to the bed like hammocks that you were resting in.

Blah blah blah maybe I’ll throw some thoughts about that out some other time.

To the awakening. You wake up. Grace saved some bags of vodka for this very occasion. (Or to drink himself silly before he dies if you didn’t)

You see Moppy Ringwald hanging around the mid room filled with screens so you could remember what earth was like.

You ask Ryland what that’s all about. He is a bit embarrassed to answer but does so nonetheless. He got so lonely while watching the images of earth and listening to music, hearing the voices of other human something he might not ever experience again, that he made something akin to a person to dance and talk to.

He expects you to laugh. To think he is crazy. But you don’t.

You look at this man who has no memory of who he really is and believed he was going to die alone in space thousands upon thousands miles away from earth.

How scary that must be.

So what you did was look through the music that was available. You have your own playlist of music and you search through it. You start with something Dr. Grace would not expect from the few hours of remembering you.

With the first few beats you shake your head to the beat and then when the lyrics begin you begins moving with the beat. The song is… overwhelming some would say. When it first came on he didn’t even register it as a song. Maybe a siren? An alarm?

The blaring noise continued with the the song but watching you dance along and sing with the song made him feel something in his chest he never thought he would ever feel again.

“I’ll believe in anything and you’ll believe in anything”

When these lyrics played you grabbed his hands. He was just kind of standing off towards to the side watching you feel the music. But you weren’t having any of that. The song was almost over and you were going to dance with the only other person alive on this ship whether he liked it or not (he did. He liked it a lot)

You grabbed his hands and and began to swing him around in a circle. Both of you circling around the center point that was your linked hands while you both laughed.

“If I could take the fire out from the wire. Then I’d share a life and you’d share a life.”

The two of you kept twirling around and laughing. It reminded you of growing up with your sisters and dancing in the living room when you were supposed to be cleaning.

The thought of them almost latched on to you too hard, enough to sink you into a deep spiral of depressing thoughts.

Are they alive.

What is earth like right now.

Thousands must have already died by the effects of the cooling sun by now.

But the only other human around for an entire solar system laughed in front of you and you locked back in.

Nothing else matters right now. You have a mission to complete and as luck has it, you aren’t alone.

You laugh along

As the song ends Grace brings you closer and picks you up by the waist laughing along.

He is just so happy he isn’t alone. He might not have family. He might not have a romantic partner and he might not even have a pet but that doesn’t mean he’s not a social creature.

Ryland Grace made sure to keep up with his meetings with friends outside of work. The friends he made at college and even some he met at the middle school. He would even consider the children he teaches a part of his social circle.

Every day for years he would show up to the middle school to teach a different set of 100s of kids science. They weren’t his children per se but he still considers them his “kids.”

Ryland Grace was a social creature. Like most humans. Like most mammals. So when you woke up and he had another person to just exist around…

He swears you will never be able to understand that feeling of relief he experienced.

You know that because you have asked him after days after this night.

After the high energy, fun upbeat song ended a slower song began. Your playlist was on shuffle and not perfectly curated to the shifts of a persons mood.

“You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles”

He was just hugging you against himself at this point. You would have been uncomfortable if you weren’t the only two humans alone in a solar system. The other two crew members dead and drifting off into a a vast unknown space of an entirely different solar system.

Your feet were now on the ground. The shift as sudden as the change of the song.

And just as suddenly you were slow dancing. You have never really slow danced with anyone before but you let the momentum of the vibes carry you. The song was slow. The song was sad.

All you did was wrap your arms around his neck and he buried his face in the crook of yours. He made the rhythm. Arms wrapped tight around your waist pulling your body closes to his.

You felt a soft shudder from him followed by a wetness to your neck.

Dr. Ryland Grace was crying.

You weren’t going to acknowledge it. No you just ran your fingers through his messy hair as the song ran its course. Letting him sway you along with the melody.

His hand ran along your spine. Feeling each vertebrae. Then ran over the thickness of your hips.

On could say he was feeling you up, being weird and pervy but you knew the difference.

He was just marking each and everything that made you living.

He was just making sure that you were REAL and not something fake like Moppy Ringwald.

And you were. The consistent drag of your fingers through his messy hair made him shiver. The smell of you was real. He didn’t know how to describe it besides real and human. Not anything like the perfumes smells of the few dates he took out from his those dating apps his friend told him about. but… natural.

You didn’t smell like the stale air and the machines oil and ink that he has become accustomed to.

Ryland Grace was starved of human interaction.

In any sense and now that you are so close. It didn’t matter if you were a man or a woman, he just needed the human closeness to him.

You gave that to him.

And that’s how you ended up here. Slow dancing with the handsome scientist you didn’t know was going to be shipped off to another solar system with you.

His hands running along your body just to make sure you are real. To appreciate you ARE real once he confirms it.

Then when the song finishes he apologizes and the distance between you is so cold it almost hurts.

But you have a mission.

And you will complete it.

You will save earth.

[marsficrecs]

I haven’t seen Fargo one bit and yet I have found myself yearning for more Gator fics.

[frankenkyle19]

🍬Saltwater Taffy🍬

Part 1: Friendship Bracelets

You’d grown up with Gator Tillman, he’d been a permanent fixture in your life since before you could walk. Things have always been easy between the two of you. Best friends. Throughout your childhood, teens, early twenties, things had been the same. So why now do you get a fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you?

Warnings: Mentions of Gator’s mother’s disappearance/death, Roy Tillman is a warning in itself, mentions of sex/sexual acts. Gator and reader make fun of each other for getting absolutely no action. I’m pretty sure that’s it! This is just an intro chapter. No smut yet sadly but soon my children, soon ✋🙂‍↕️

Word count: 5.5k

Being best friends with Gator Tillman came to you as naturally as breathing, he was woven into every aspect of your soul, the two of you were intertwined by an invisible string of fate that neither of you really understood. He was your best friend, your protector.. Your… Well there weren’t many other words you could call him before the initial term ‘best friend’ lost its meaning and you started to describe him more like a lover.

He’d been around for every holiday, every birthday, every summer. Your life wasn’t your life without him. You’d both grown a bit distant when you entered high school, four long years of hell dragging on endlessly before you graduated. And then all of the sudden, your Gator came back to you as if he’d never left your side. Like a lost dog reunited with its owner after so long apart. It made the two of you stronger, and god, you had missed having your boy around. He was a little rougher, a bit grumpier, but underneath all of that, he was still the boy you got lost in the woods with every weekend, playing knight and princess, watching as Gator collected pretty flowers to give to you.

You’d heard the rumors around town, the whispers your neighbors told about you and Gator, things that just simply weren’t true. You and Gator had never been anything more than platonic. Sure, you’d shared your first kiss when you were kids, but that had been purely experimental and a one time thing. You and Gator were just friends. Just friends.

Sometimes he needed reminding of that. Sometimes it was hard for him.

Gator was two years older than you. He’d experienced two years of life before you were born and he always said he was glad he didn’t remember any of it because he didn’t want to know a life without you. You practically grew up with him on the Tillman ranch. Anytime your parents couldn’t find you, you were sure to be off on some adventure with Gator on the Tillman property.

While his mother was still around, in your younger years, you enjoyed her cookies, Gator stealing several from the kitchen for the two of you. You remembered sticky chocolate covered hands and mouths, secret giggles and running off the second you heard his mother’s voice asking where the cookies went.

Slowly but surely, the two of you started to grow up. Gator’s mother left when he was young, just ten years old, with you being eight. He didn’t understand it, neither did you. His father told him that his mother just didn’t love him enough to stay and definitely didn’t love him enough to take him with her. There were plenty of rumors around what really happened to Linda, that she’d actually died and Roy had covered it up, had maybe even been the one to kill her, but it was all speculation. One day she was just gone, and Gator was left without the one person in the world besides you that actually loved him.

He was so young, to the point where he didn’t really understand it, but he was sad nonetheless. There were plenty of nights where he’d just cry on your shoulder, and you tried to tell him it was okay, that you loved him. He was always scared to cry, worried because his father had told him plenty of times that boys didn’t cry. Gator tried to keep it all in, bury it all but it truly did more damage than good. It affected him to this day, probably would for the rest of his life. He was a sad man. A dangerous, violent man… But truly deep down just a sad man.

—

The two of you grew up, with Gator twenty-six now and you twenty-four. He’d followed in his father’s footsteps and went through the police academy, becoming an officer and then soon a deputy. You knew the only reason he had the title was because his father was the sheriff, but you were happy for Gator. He finally had some sense and direction in his life.

Your parents had moved out of state when you were just twenty-two but they’d left you the house. The rent you paid to them was cheap and they still covered all the utilities for you. You saw them a couple times a year when they would visit,and you were brought back to memories of your childhood, when you were all together, plus Gator who was almost always over for family dinners. Your parents loved having him around.

You never felt alone even if you had the old ranch house all to yourself. You had Gator who came over and bothered you after every one of his shifts, you had your old cat Smoky, a black and white cat who always came and went as he saw fit, so much so that you’d made a small cat door so that he’d stop scratching the doorframe to get outside. He sometimes wandered over to the Tillman ranch, everyone there knew him by name. He liked to hunt the mice in their barn. You’d woken up to plenty of dead rodents on your doorstep, little gifts from your furry friend. Gator always ended up taking care of them for you so you didn’t have to deal with it.

Along with Smoky, you had a few chickens that wandered freely on your property that you’d feed every morning before work, enjoying the way they all ran to you, clucking, flapping their wings. The fresh eggs they laid were a plus as well.

You also had a horse, but she stayed stabled at the Tillman ranch, right next to Gator’s black and white spotted Appaloosa. Your horse was a thoroughbred, tan with a blonde mane. You’d named her Echo and you’d gotten her when you were only thirteen. Roy, Gator’s father had won her at an auction for dirt cheap and gifted her to you at the same time Gator got his horse, who he’d named River. Echo was fiercely loyal and any time you found yourself in the barn, she was always keeping an eye on you. She seemed to understand you in a way that most humans couldn’t. You were sure that only Gator knew you better than Echo did, and even then it was pretty close.

Your house had a wraparound porch and on the porch sat two old rocking chairs, the paint long since peeling from the old wood. They creaked when you sat on them, but they were sturdy. They’d been around for as long as you could remember, probably as old as the house. There was also a little bird feeder tied up close to the front door. Gator had actually been the one to help you put it up so you could watch the birds in the morning as you drank your coffee. It was a three bedroom, much too big for just you. You slept in the master bedroom, the guest room sported a twin sized bed and large wooden dresser and the last bedroom had been transformed into an office of sorts, a large mahogany desk against the wall, along with an old oak swivel chair that your father used to sit in. The living room was cozy, a small brown leather couch and two matching chairs on the far end, a coffee table, one large floor lamp, a tv mounted to the wall, a basket of blankets and a fireplace on the other end. There were plenty of photos that lined the walls, family pictures taken over the years of you and your parents, and Gator had even managed to end up in some of the photos too. The dining room was connected to the kitchen and the table sat four people comfortably. Instead of chairs, it was two benches that ran the length of each side of the table. Sitting in the middle of the table was a decorative woven basket with two candles and some faux greenery. You hadn’t changed much since your parents moved away, choosing to keep how they had almost everything so you could continue to feel close to them.

—

Gator had come over late that evening, way past the time that you’d made dinner. You always made enough for two people, maybe even three because Gator liked to eat a lot. He loved anything with meat, and he wasn’t a fan of veggies. Tonight had been spaghetti and meatballs, something simple but good, filling and comforting. You heard the crunch of gravel under tires and that’s how you knew Gator had arrived. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been waiting for him, but you had. You always worried a bit whenever he was late, due to the nature of his job. One wrong move and he could end up seriously hurt… Or dead.

He didn’t knock, he never did, making his way inside, kicking off his boots as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked exhausted but his eyes lit up when he saw you. Only you could ever get that kind of reaction out of him, no one else made his eyes soften the way you did.

“Gates!” You grinned, abandoning your cup of tea in favor of running to him, practically jumping into his arms. It had become habit, something you’d done since the two of you were still in single digits, before the world had become entirely too cruel to you. For Gator, it had always been sort of cruel.

“Hi sweet girl.” He grinned, wrapping his strong arms around you as he rested his chin on top of your head as you buried your face in his chest. The two of you stayed intertwined for a few moments before pulling apart. You grinned as you looked up at him, eyes wide and happy before you playfully shoved his shoulder.

“You’re late! And you didn’t text me!” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sorry sweetheart, I had ta stay late at the station, we were in the process of bookin’ someone. Drunk driving, dude could barely even stand straight fer his mug shot. It was sorta funny. Sorry m’late, I know I missed dinner.”

“I made spaghetti and meatballs.” You instantly moved over to the stove where you’d set his portion, putting the plate in the microwave for a couple of minutes to warm it up for him.

“Your mom’s recipe?”

“Duh.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

He shuffled past you and sat at the table, scooting the bench out enough so he could get comfortable.

“You comin’ ta church with me on Sunday?” He asked, glancing over at you as you grabbed a fork from the silverware drawer for him, the soft buzz of the microwave the only sound in the house save for your voices.

“I always go to church with you, Gator. Dumb question.” The microwave beeped and you opened it, giving it a moment to air out before you grabbed the plate, closing the microwave with your other hand before you brought the food to Gator, setting it down in front of him.

“Thanks, mama, smells so good.” He hummed as he grabbed his fork, twirling some of the pasta noodles before he brought it to his lips, blowing on it before taking a bite. You tried not to stare at him as he ate because you knew he got a bit weird about it, but there wasn’t much else to look at in the house, the sun long since set below the horizon. You glance down at your mug, the brownish liquid inside half drank and growing colder by the moment. You never could finish a full cup of tea…

Gator was a bit of a messy eater and you rolled your eyes, shoving your napkin towards him so he could wipe the edges of his mouth where the pasta sauce collected.

“That damn cat a’ yers is gonna get itself killed if it doesn’t start payin’ attention. Almost ran him over the other night pullin’ into my driveway.”

“Smoky? Well be careful, Gator! Don’t you dare run him over.”

Gator deadpanned, fork full of food halfway to his mouth as he stared at you as if you were dumb. “I’m not going to run over yer cat. At least not on purpose.” He rolled his eyes before taking another bite.

Soft banter like this was easy with Gator, it just came naturally. Your mother used to say the two of you had this sort of flirty banter most of the time but you never really saw it. You were just friends, close friends. You’d known each other since you were in diapers, of course you were going to be close.

To be fair though, all of Gator’s girlfriends absolutely hated you. None of his relationships ever lasted long and if anyone ever asked his ex’s, they’d say it was because of the way Gator treated you, always put you first, treated you like royalty. It was enough to easily make a girl insecure. You’d never had much luck in the romance department either, thanks to Gator, who scared off any boy who ever even looked in your direction. You were sure he’d even threatened a couple because suddenly the boys who had been chasing after you would just dump you, switching up in an instant.

All the men in Stark County knew that you were Gator’s girl, even if either of you refused to admit it. You were his and he was yours, it would always be that way.

“I think my dad’s havin’ some sorta lunch after service on Sunday if ya wanted to come. Ya know yer always invited.” Gator had nearly finished the plate by now, a feat that seemed impossible had he not done it dozens of times before. He was a fast eater.

“Aww do you want me there?” You teased and Gator rolled his eyes, setting down his fork.

“Y’know what? Invitation revoked, ya can’t come anymore.”

“You just said I’m always invited!” you scoffed, feigning offense as you tried to bite back laughter that threatened to spill from your lips. Gator looked to be in the same boat as he stood up from the table, taking his plate to the sink. There used to be a time where Gator would just leave his dirty plate for you to take care of but you had quickly trained him to wash his own dishes otherwise you’d stop cooking for him. He learned fast and after that you never had to remind him to wash his dishes.

You followed him into the kitchen with your half empty cup of tea, setting it down by the sink. If you were lucky, maybe Gator would wash that for you while he washed his own dishes.

“Ya didn’t have ta wait up fer me y’know.” He said with a sigh. Here it was, him trying to act like he was the biggest burden on the earth. You knew how his dad treated him, but you’d never once acted like knowing and loving him as your friend was a burden. It was something you woke up and chose every day, even if he could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

His back was to you as he scrubbed the red sauce from his plate so you couldn’t see his expression but if you had to guess, his brow was furrowed, his eyes a little lost, a small frown on his lips. You hated when he thought so badly of himself, like he wasn’t worth waiting up for. Wasn’t worth being loved.

He’d been like this since childhood. From a young age Roy Tillman had broken him down, made him seek and crave validation while also believing he didn’t deserve any of it. It was hard to watch as a child but it was even harder to watch now as an adult.

“Gator.” You rested your palm on his shoulder and felt the weight of the world melt off of him at just the simple touch of your hand, like you were some sort of magical medicine that healed all of his wounds.

“Hmm?” He replied gruffly, setting his now clean plate and fork in the dish rack to dry before he reached for your mug, pouring out the remaining tea before he started to scrub it as well, using a tad too much soap like he always did, forgetting it would suds up as much as it did. The only time he ever really did dishes was over here with you, otherwise his stepmother was washing all the dishes in the house.

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself.” You knew the words were harsh but he needed it, it was the only way he could really listen.

He nodded with a sigh, washing the soap off of the cup before setting it in the drying wrack and turning off the water. Hands still covered in soap he turned around to look at you and you saw the idea cross his eyes before he even acted on it.

“Gator don’t you dare!” But it was too late, he was rubbing water and soap all over your arms, enjoying the way you squealed and tried to get away. He held you in place, your arms now just as wet and soapy as his, some of it getting on your shirt as well. You glared up at him but a grin broke through and you quickly looked away, trying to regain your composure.

“You’re a dick.” You huffed, shaking your head.

“Yeah but ya love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but that was an answer in itself. You did love it, and you did love him.

He couldn’t stay much longer after that, needing to get back home and shower before bed. He had to be up for another early morning shift which was unfortunate because you had the day off, and with Gator busy at work you didn’t have much to do.

You reached out for him right as he passed the threshold of your front door, back out into the darkness that was only illuminated by the moon, stars and your flickering porch light. Moths and fireflies flew in the warm air around the two of you but your attention was on Gator. He’d always be the one person you’d look to even in a room full of a hundred bodies.

Your fingers brushed against his and you saw the threaded fabric of his red and black bracelet that you’d given him years ago. His friendship bracelet. On your arm, the same one, the only difference was yours was dark green and purple. Your fingers danced along the fabric of his bracelet as you grabbed at him and pulled him back towards you for another hug, enjoying his warmth.

“You’ll come over tomorrow night too?” You asked against his chest.

“Depends on what yer makin’ fer dinner, mama.”

“Anything you want.” You finally pulled away and watched as Gator made his way to his car. You felt fur brushing against your ankle and glanced down to see smoky who gave a hoarse meow when you looked down at him. He followed you into the house where you locked the door and then watched Gator pull down the driveway from the kitchen window. You knew he was only two minutes down the road at his own house, but he still felt farther away than you ever wanted him to be.

You wished it would be acceptable for the two of you to share a bed. As best friends.

—

Sunday morning rolled around too fast as it always did and you slipped out of bed, making your way into the connected bathroom, flipping on the overhead light. The sun was just starting to rise as you began to get ready, brushing your teeth before you began working on your hair and your makeup. You picked out a pretty, white dress from your closet, and a sweater to go with it. Something simple but nice enough to wear to church.

You made a quick breakfast out of two pieces of toast, saving some room for lunch later with Gator and his family. It wasn’t at all uncommon for them to invite you over to have lunch. It usually happened at least once every two or so weeks. While you didn’t exactly enjoy being around Roy, never had, it was nice to spend more time with Gator.

You set your dirty dishes in the sink for later before you grab your keys and make your way out of the house, shivering in the crispy morning air. The smell of dew settles over you and you can see it faintly glistening over your lawn with the streaks of sun that dip over the horizon as it rises slowly into the sky.

Once you make it to the Tillman property you pull up to the church, parking your old pickup truck next to Gator’s car. Your car was a piece of junk and constantly broke down. Gator always had to figure out what was wrong with it, and showed you things to look out for too. He taught you how to check your oil, add air to your tires, and even change a flat tire. It had been very helpful, but more often than not you called him anyways when you needed help.

You watched as a couple of the townsfolk began to make their way into the church and you got out of your car, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself as you made your way inside as well. Your eyes scanned the room before falling on Gator, who was already staring at you. He made his way through the crowd to you, smiling softly.

“Morning sweet girl, you sleep well?” He asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he guided you through the crowd to the spot where the two of you usually sat, a few rows from the front.

“Yeah, you?”

Gator shrugged like he didn’t want to answer, so you could only assume he’d had a nightmare. They were fairly common for him, having started when his mother had gone away and carried into adulthood, only becoming worse as time went on. He never really talked about them but you could see how shaken up they made him, that fear behind his eyes that he tried so hard to hide.

The choir started up and everyone stood from their seats. You sang the songs you’d heard a million times over, something comforting about the hymns as you leaned into Gator. Once the music had ended, Roy made his way up to the pew and you watched him curiously. The heavy set of his shoulders, that darkness in his eye that you didn’t quite understand. Similar to Gator’s but yet so, so much worse. There was an evil in Roy Tillman, you were surprised he hadn’t been struck down preaching what he did, twisting scriptures to fit whatever sick narrative he wanted people to believe.

You never really listened to the message. Whatever Roy had to say you weren’t too interested in. You usually just came for Gator. You did a lot for Gator, more than you’d ever do for someone else.

After the service wrapped up and people made their way out of the church, you stayed behind with Gator, since you were having lunch with him and his family. Something was bugging him, you could tell, but now was not the time to pry. You’d be able to get it out of him later. Alone.

—

Lunch was pot roast. Karen and the twins had set the table and you’d taken a seat next to Gator, your foot nudging against his under the table, just a little reminder that you were there. He relaxed a little.

Roy took the seat at the head of the table and all of you held hands as he prayed over the meal, flourishing words and phrases, thanking God for all he’d done, how he’d been faithful. You tuned him out, focusing more on the way Gator squeezed your hand in his own.

Lunch was good. You usually tried to stay quiet, moreso a fan of listening than actually being involved in active conversation, especially with Roy.

“So son, how’s work been? I haven’t seen a ton of you around lately, seems like you’re constantly off on your own.” Roy asked as he glanced at Gator who tensed at his father’s words.

“Work’s good. Kinda boring, just been doin’ the dumb shit y’know? Bookin’ criminals, doin’ patrols and traffic stops, all a’ that shit.”

“Well son I don’t think it’s exactly dumb. And the lord knows we can’t trust ya with much else. I mean do I need to remind you of how you ruined our last case because you didn’t think before you ran into danger?” Roy’s voice was harsh and you swallowed hard, dragging your fork around your plate.

“That wasn’t my fault! My partner was bullshittin’ the whole time and I had ta-”

“Had to what? Put everyone, including yourself, at risk?” Roy raised a brow, glaring at his son. “Real smart of ya, son. Real smart.” He shook his head, pointing his fork at Gator. “I didn’t raise you not ta think before you act. That was pretty dumb of you, so until you can prove yourself, you’re stuck doing the boring work. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate it.”

Gator nodded silently, glancing down at his plate, the rest of the table silent.

“So, you got a boyfriend yet or is Gator still scaring all of them away?” Roy asked you through a chuckle.

“Oh no uh.. Nope. No boyfriend for me.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s a shame. A nice girl like you, all alone in that big house. We’ll find someone for ya, don’t worry.” He glanced over at Gator before taking another bite of his food.

Roy had always made you a bit uneasy but it only got worse as time went on. There was just something off about him.

—

Lunch finished up with no other hiccups besides the fact that Roy got on Gator about his excessive hookups. How he needed to settle down with one girl, how that’s what the lord would want for him, what he wanted for him.

Gator’s hookups had never bothered you. In fact sometimes he’d even share details with you. Nothing explicit, not since he tried to tell you about how he’d made a girl squirt once. You shut down that conversation real quick. Apparently there was such a thing as tmi in your friendship. He was gross, but he was your best friend.

—

He came back to your house with you after lunch, the afternoon sun warm as you made your way up your driveway, watching Smoky basking in the sun a few yards away from the porch.

“You gonna tell me why you’re being so grumpy today now that we’re alone?” You asked once the two of you had made your way inside, hands on your hips as you stared at him.

Gator furrowed his brows, looking at you skeptically. “M’not bein’ grumpy, fuck off.”

“Gator.” You tried again, voice more stern this time. He was so damn stubborn.

“It’s not a’ big deal, alright?” He shook his head, but you saw the attitude. God, he drove you nuts.

“I should kick you in the balls right now for lying to me, Gator Tillman.”

“How does that even- That makes no damn sense.” He scoffed but you saw him shift nervously.

“We have been friends for literally all of our lives, you know I can’t stand when you keep shit from me. Spill it, why’re you acting like this?”

“..Fuck yer so nosy!”

“Yeah and you love it.” You challenged, raising a brow at him.

“Got stood up the other night…” He mumbled finally.

“What?”

“Was supposed ta meet up with this chick at the motel by the bar and she didn’t show, so I’m a little grumpy, alright?” He snapped.

“Oh so you’re mad because you didn’t get your dick wet, is that it?” Your tone dripped sarcasm as you watched him, the way he stood in your living room.

“Oh fuck you, it’s not like yer gettin’ any action either!”

“How would you know?” You huffed, shoving his chest playfully. What had almost become an argument had quickly turned playful, as did so many conversations between the two of you.

“Because I just know. Yer probably dry as hell down there”

“Gator Tillman!” You half gasped and half laughed at his words. “Shut up.”

“Dry as the damn desert.” He added and you saw the way he was trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, as dry as that girl probably was. That’s why she didn’t show.”

“Ouch okay, rude.” He placed a hand over his heart and acted like your words had hurt him.

“Is that really why you’ve been grumpy?” You asked, voice a little softer now.

“I mean there’s that and the fact that my daddy’s been givin’ me a hard time lately.” He shook his head.

“That’s what it is, he’s bothering you.”

“He always bothers me.” He chuckled, but the laugh didn’t meet his eyes, it never did when he talked about his father.

“Well good thing you can come over here to avoid him whenever you need to, yeah? Lucky for you I’m just so generous and kind to welcome you into my home. Even if you make fun of the fact that I get no action.”

“You made fun of me first!”

“Yeah, limp dick.” You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“I do not have a limp dick!”

You just shrugged before bursting out into laughter. It was easy for Gator to forget any of the bad things in his life when he got to be with you like this, joking, laughing as if you didn’t have a care in the world. It almost stopped the nightmares, the memories. Almost.

—

Gator had only cried in front of you a few times. One of those times being the time he’d tripped in the woods and scraped his knee on a rock. There hadn’t been a ton of blood, but the skin was all scraped up and poor eight year old Gator cried. Tears tracked down his cheeks and broken little sniffles left his lips as you had crouched down next to him, getting a good look at his knee.

He suddenly didn’t care about how much it hurt, more embarrassed that you were seeing him cry. He hated the idea of that.

“It’s okay Gator, you’re okay!” You tried your best to comfort in your small six year old voice.

“No it’s not okay… I shouldn’t be crying… I shouldn’t..” He shook his head, more tears welling and threatening to fall.

“It’s okay to cry.” You said softly, looking at him sympathetically.

“Boys don’t cry..”

His words had confused you, because.. Why couldn’t boys cry? What was wrong with boys crying? That was the first glimpse you really had that he was being raised in a completely different way than you.

“You can cry when you’re hurt, It’s okay to cry.” You tried again to soothe his worries.

“But I’m a boy..” He sounded almost anguished when he said it.

“You’re a human first.” You poked his chest with your little finger. That was the day you decided you needed to always stick by his side, to always allow him to feel his feelings.

It was a long road, and he was still beyond stubborn when it came to his emotions, but he always let his guard down around you. Always trusted you.

—

The two of you continued to argue about Gator’s limp dick and the fact that he, in your words “Got no bitches” Until you both settled onto the couch, sharing a blanket as you watched The Notebook. You’d made him watch it ten times over by this point. You cried every time you watched it and Gator always had to console you, holding you to his chest as you sobbed about how sad it was, how much the main characters had loved each other. Sometimes you’d even ask dumb questions, ones Gator didn’t know the answer to. Dangerous questions.

“If you were in love with me and I moved away, would you write me a letter every day for a year?” You asked, resting your head on his chest as he played with your hair.

It always took him a while to respond when you asked a question like that, like he was actually thinking about it, and his answers always made your stomach flutter in a way that felt odd and out of place when you thought of Gator.

“I’d write ya a letter every day fer the rest a’ my life, even if ya never replied.”

His words stirred something in you. Something too dangerous to name, something that would change everything.

Love.

[comfortwriting]

Rockstar's Baby - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

masterlist, navigation, request rules, taglist

summary: when your husband, Eddie is performing, your waters break whilst you're watching backstage.

warnings: birth scene, reader is wearing set clothes: oversized shirt and sweatpants, her hair is tied back, didn't proofread, can't think of anything else!

word count: 1.4k

Eddie couldn't believe that you were still supporting him and his band on one of the biggest tours of their careers when you were now approaching your due date.

You were ready to pop at any minute with a beautiful bump and a penguin waddle to prove it, but you kept reassuring your husband that you couldn't miss out on any of this, and if your daughter's dad was a rockstar, then she better get used to life on the road as early as possible.

Sitting backstage, drowning in an oversized Corroded Coffin shirt and Eddie's sweatpants, the combo being the only item of clothing that would fit comfortably until the baby was born, and with it being quite hot, your hair was pulled back out of your face. Your battery-powered handheld fan was helpful at first, but now you can't get any relief from the increasing flush to your face. 

From the other side of the heavy black curtains, the roar of sixty thousand people chanting and singing along to Eddie's songs sounded like a physical wave. You were always so proud of him for chasing his dreams, graduating and getting the hell out of Hawkins, and proving to himself that he wouldn't turn out like his dad when it was his turn to raise a child.

For all of that alone, you couldn't not be sat backstage, humming away, as your baby kicked and rolled inside of you.

Eddie was in the middle of his guitar solo, the one that earned him his rightful spot in the Rock ' n Roll Hall Of Fame three years ago, it was the shift in his career that sent Corroded Coffins' albums platinum and gave him the opportunity to buy the most expensive engagement ring he could find.

As the crowd cheered and hooted, you shifted slightly to get more comfortable when a sudden, warm trickling made you freeze, the fabric of your sweatpants dampening in an instant. 

"Oh fuck!" you gasped, your eyes widening, "You've picked today? Of all days!" you whispered to your bump.

Trying to slowly stand up and find someone, anyone, you were stopped in your tracks by a crawling and intense shockwave that tightened around your bump and ached in your lower back, the sheer intensity of it causing you to yelp out in agony.

"Help!" you managed to shout, your voice cracking. "Please! Someone help!"

The door swung open almost instantly, and one of the new stage assistants, a young guy no older than twenty, poked his head in and as he saw you bent over, clutching your stomach,  his eyes widened with panic.

"Mrs Munson?" he hurried over to you, placing a supportive hand on your back, "Is everything-"

"The baby is coming," you gasped, another wave of pressure hitting you, the tightening coming back stronger. "my-my water broke, and I need..." your eyes squeezed shut at the increasing intensity "Get Eddie. Get Eddie now, I need to get to a hospital!"

Luckily, as the song came to an end, Eddie spun on his heel, hoping to grab a bottle of water before going back to the setlist, but when his assistant frantically waved his outstretched arms and made a quick cutting motion across his throat, pointing to his stomach, he knew that there was no time for another solo.

The band trailed off, looking confused and concerned, as the crowd's roar dipped into a murmur. Eddie ran to the mic, his chest heaving. He nodded at his bandmates, the planned signal saved just for this. They knew. Their wide grins only made Eddie more excited.

"I'm sorry, guys" he shouted, a massive, manic grin breaking across his face. "But I think tonight's show is gonna have to be cut just a little bit short. My wife just went into labour backstage, and I gotta run the hell out of here, I'm going to be a dad!"

The stadium erupted into a deafening, joyful explosion of sound. Eddie didn't wait for the applause to die down; he ripped his guitar off, handed it to a tech, and sprinted offstage. 

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," Eddie beamed, trying to hide his anxiousness, "let's get you out of here."

The private suite at the hospital was quiet, save for the hum of the monitors and your heavy breathing and low groans with each contraction. Eddie was officially a nervous wreck, pacing the floor behind you like a caged lion, while you refused to stay in the bed with your hand braced against the wall.

"Baby, please, the doctor said you should sit down," He pleaded, reaching out a hand.

"The baby books say you should... fuck!" you snapped, freezing and groaning, waiting for the pressure to dissipate, "the books say, you should keep active during labour." Your temper flared with the hormones and the pain. 

Eddie softened and slowly wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around your waist. He linked his fingers under the heavy curve of your belly and lifted slightly, taking the immense pressure off your lower back. You let out a long, shuddering breath, resting your head back against his shoulder.

"Better?" he whispered against your temple.

"Yes," you grunted. "Now don't move, Eds, please don't move."

An hour later, the pacing left like a distant memory, the room that was just the three of you was now filled with two midwives and the doctor. The baby was ready, and all you needed to do was follow the midwife's instructions and the signals your body was giving you.

You were in your hospital bed, back against the pillows, with your forehead breaking out in beads of sweat, with your stray hairs sticking to it. Throughout every push and pant, you wouldn't let go of Eddie's hand; you were clutching so hard he was scared you were going to break his fingers.

"I can't do this!" you sobbed, raising your voice. 

"Y-yes, you can, sweetheart," Eddie said softly, his doe eyes full of concern and worry.

Your head went back and hit the pillows, your eyebrows scrunched and lips red, "You got me into this mess!" you seethed, another push ready.

Eddie took it all with a saint-like patience and asked if the midwife could get you some more water and a new straw. Between the screams, you were sobbing, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"One more big push!" the doctor urged.

"I'm not fucking pushing!" you shouted, feeling your baby's head lowering.

With a final, guttural scream, you forced yourself to push for as long as you could, until that mounting and heavy pressure suddenly dissipated, replaced by a delicate and sharp wail that made Eddie's ears prick up.

The world Eddie knew came to a complete stop, and as your warm and slippery crying baby got placed onto your chest, your frustrations were gone, replaced by a sob of relief.

"You did it," Eddie whispered, tears filling his eyes, "You did it..."

"It's a girl," the doctor whispered, placing a towel over you and the baby.

You clutched your daughter in your arms with tears rolling down your face, watching her squinting eyes blink up at you, and her tongue pushing out of her mouth, like a baby animal tasting the air. "Hello, Baby Munson," you cooed sleepily, "Hello."

Eddie was leaning over you, his face a mask of awe. When the cord was clamped and cut, the midwife took the baby to the warming table to be cleaned and checked. Eddie finally sat on the edge of the bed. He took your hand, his eyes shimmering with tears of admiration and pure love.

"You are incredible," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He brushed a damp curl away from your forehead, looking at you with more worship than he had from the thousands of his fans "You're so strong, and so beautiful. You have no idea how incredible you are... thank you. Thank you for our daughter."

The midwife softly interrupted with your daughter wrapped up in her arms, "Would you like to hold her?" she asked your husband.

Eddie looked at you nervously, but you nodded your head and smiled, "go on," you encouraged him, "she's your little girl."

The midwife carefully placed your daughter in Eddie's arms and helped him adjust to properly cradle her and support her little head, and as the little baby stared up into his eyes, Eddie couldn't stop himself from crying. He stroked her soft pink cheek with his index finger, and she reached out with her long arm, bringing her tiny fist up to his finger and curling her hand around him. 

"You picked a great day to be born on, sweetheart", he cooed.

Reblogging is a writers best friend :)

[marsficrecs]

Hail Mary fic idea??

You are a scientist who is dead set that there is advanced alien life somewhere in the universe.

You have bit of beef with the Fermi Paradox.

“But where is everybody?”

Probably avoiding earth because humans are savages you would reply.

Now you have spent your entire life studying astronomy and planets and their makeup and what they would need to theoretically to sustain life on other planets.

You had read Rylands Grace paper and you honestly thought he made good points. You even shared some of his opinions. Why would we assume water is needed to create evolved life when there are an infinite amount of environments out there.

It’s a bit arrogant to base our knowledge of extraterrestrial existence based solely on our own experience isn’t it?

So yeah you heard of his paper and you loved it and you wanted to meet with him after you read it only to find that he fell off from the science scene and you had your own projects to worry about.

When Irina Petrova sent out her mass email about the Petrova line you immediately responded. You had so many theories that they immediately brought you on to the Petrova Taskforce.

When they launched ArcLight into space you were bouncing off the walls with excitement. You had a sneaking suspicion that alien life lived in the Petrova line and you couldn’t wait to see if your hypothesis was correct. In the meantime you wrote papers upon papers of what kind of life form could theoretically consume the suns energy and what it would be made of.

When the samples came back you were heartbroken that Stratt didn’t choose you to examine the samples retrieved from the ArcLight. You begged and begged to see just ONE sample and she would refuse. That is until the researcher studying the samples in question began to complain about working alone.

Stratt only relented because of your incessant pleads and Rylands insistence that other scientists should be involved for faster progress.

And that’s how you ended up here. In a hazmat suit in a room filled with Argon with none other than Ryland Grace himself.

[hellfiremunsonn]

idk where this came from....

Love confession, friends to lovers, Eddie is an idiot but it's okay cause we love him <3 SFW but Minors DNI

When you randomly blurt out "I love you" to Eddie, and don't mean it as a friend.

and he rolls his eyes because why would anyone truly be in love with Eddie Munson right? let alone you. His best friend, his favourite person in the whole world.

He'd mutter out a "yeah sure, funny" and force out a little laugh, bringing a cigarette up to his lips.

"I'm not making jokes right now Eddie, I mean it. I meant it." You're caught off guard at his stiff reaction. Not the dramatic yearning confession in return you hoped for.

"You don't love me, don't worry about it, you don't have to feel bad for me" and he gives you that smile.

that goddamn stupid little pitying smile. the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. the one that says 'it is what it is' because he's so used to just pushing through everything and everyone, cause no one ever wants him back the same way as he wants them.

"I just told you I love you, that I'm in love with you, and you're just pretending it's not happening? why are you being such a dick about this?" your confusion and frustration bubble up quickly, and its hard to push back down when you feel like everything you knew was a lie.

"Because, like I said, you don't love me sweetheart, not like that; you just think you do"

You stare at him dumbfounded, reaching forward and plucking the cigarette straight from his fingers while he goes to bring it up to his mouth. You drop it to the ground and crush it under your shoe.

"I love you" you say again.

"Stop"

You don't

"I love you"

"Sweetheart please I can't do this" he drags his hand down his face.

"I. Love. You" you say firmly, standing your ground even though everything inside you shakes like a chihuahua.

"You don't! you don't want this!" he spits out. "No one ever does! Im gross, I'm messy, loud, obnoxious, awkward, all the things women don't want, all the things people don't want to stick around long enough to see if there's anything else underneath" It comes out in a rush, and he hates how pathetic it sounds, but it's what he believed was true for most of his life.

"You think I don't know that? You leave your used q-tips on the side of the sink, you never close the cap on the toothpaste, or pull your hair out of the drain, you leave every mug in the kitchen in the sink until the very last minute! You smell your shirts before you put them on, you've cum more socks than I care to count" He looks at you like 'see?'

You jab your finger at his chest, push him with both hands, emphasizing every word as if you could push them inside of him to see what you see.

"BUT you're also, loyal, and charming, kind, unapologetically yourself. You make people feel seen, and heard. You go out of your way to make sure the weirdos and freaks have a home, have someone safe to call when they need someone. You have one of the biggest hearts I've ever known someone to have, and I love you, I love you, I love every part of you, you dumb fucking idiot"

You're crying now but you don't care, and neither does Eddie when he grabs your face with both hands and crushes his lips to yours. His own tears mixing with your own, breath uneven and shaky when he whispers back "I love you too"

[angelovebitten]

𓈃꣓ ۫ eddie munson dating headcannons !!! pt. 1

my masterlist

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who blows you kisses from across the cafeteria when you sit at different tables, just to make you grin.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie  who often writes letters for youuu, even after a argument ⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who shares all his magazines, cassettes, and little treasures with you without hesitation.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who saves up for months to gift you Stern ething special, even if you keep insisting you don’t need it.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who kisses you stupid on the couch of the trailer, knowing wayne could come back any minute.

⋆ ♱ bf!eddie who lets you pick the music in the car, even when he’s lowkey judging your guilty pleasures.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who folds dirty notes into paper airplanes and launches them across the classroom, grinning like an idiot while you unfold them mid-lesson.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who lets you snag first dibs on anything from his shipments, because he knows you deserve it.

⋆ ♱ bf!eddie who lets you stay at his trailer whenever it gets too rough at home.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who writes your initials in the margins of his notebooks.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who whispers little inside jokes in your ear when the teacher isn’t looking, and you almost can’t stop laughing.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie lets you sit on his lap in the dnd throne during a campaign, even thought you don’t really understand most of the words that come out of his mouth during it.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who sneaks little notes into your locker about random nonsense and then watched you read them from the other side of the hall.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who slips his rings off his fingers and onto yours whenever he’s bored or just wants to mess with you.

⋆ ♱ bf! eddie who helps you sneak out at night and takes you downtown with him when he has a gig.

[cinemamunson]

he’s got me giggling and kicking my feet and shit

[justmeinadaze]

Head Filled With Demons/Secret Sinners Masterlist

"She's got a head filled with demons (oh-oh) You're lucky if you get to see'em (yeah) A pretty face yet a heathen (let's go) The dark with her's a different feeling She'll leave you reeling..."

You take care of everyone around you with no complaints, living your day to day sometimes wishing you were anywhere else. One day while at work at you degrading retail job, you find a mysterious stone, and accidentally summon two demons who give you a task that you must complete or else the world will come to an end. Along the way you learn more about them and find yourself caring for them more than you thought you could.

Warning are in each story. I INSIST YOU READ THEM! Please and thank you :)

Head Filled with Demons

Head Filled with Demons Part 2

Head Filled with Demons Part 3

Head Filled With Demons Part 4

Head Filled With Demons Part 5

Secret Sinners

Secret Sinners Part 2

Secret Sinners Part 3

Secret Sinners Part 4

My Little Man

My Little Man (Part 2)

My Little Man (Part 3)

[beainabottle]

If you want fluff, smut and demon Eddie and Steve. Then this series is perfect. But everything Kathryn posts is a banger so go show her some love 💛

[bluepenguinwrites]

make it up as we go along

Summary: “It would mean the world to me if you could occupy the menace for two minutes, please .”

“The menace ,” he repeats, amused. “What’s got you all fired up tonight, huh?” he asks Julie, soothing his hand up and down her back.

She babbles in response to him, and he, as always, reacts like she’s holding a deeply intelligent conversation with him. 

“Ah,” he ponders. “Understandable. I’d be a wreck in your situation too.”

A domestic evening with Eddie and your baby girl. She has a very specific request of her dad.

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Parenthood, Dad!Eddie Munson, Soft Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down

Words: 3.2k

The apartment is loud with the usual end-of-day chaos. Never quite explosive, but never peaceful either.

You’re crouched awkwardly on the floor beside the coffee table, a small pile of clean laundry still warm beside you and Julie’s teensy pants stretched over your knee, the torn seam stubbornly refusing to cooperate. The needle is dull, the thread keeps tangling, and your back aches from hunching over various chores all day. 

Julie, the ever-lovely baby that she is, has decided that the floor isn’t interesting enough and is currently doing her best to climb up your back like a jungle gym, sticky hands grabbing at your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, please,” you mumble, gently nudging her off with your elbow. “Just two more minutes. Let me fix your pants and then you can tackle me, okay?”

Julie responds with a shriek and thuds down on her butt, immediately reaching for one of the brightly colored wooden blocks she isn’t supposed to throw— and, of course, throws it.

You sigh, teeth clenched around a muttered, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” just as the front door opens with a click and a familiar set of heavy boots step inside. “Oh, thank you, Jesus,” you whisper, grateful for the extra set of hands. And, you suppose, grateful for your adoring husband in general.

“Where are my girls?” Eddie calls out, traipsing into the living room, and finding Julie making another attempt to scale you. She lights up when she sees him, like she always does, and it makes your heart soar. “Oh, come here,” he coos, scooping her up into his arms. “You givin’ your mama hell?”

“Can you please just—” you cut yourself off with a sharp squeak in pain, as you accidentally prick the needle into the tip of your finger. “ God damnit ,” you mutter.

“You good?”

“I’m fine!” you answer, voice tight. You just need to finish one thing today. You shake your hand out and continue pulling the thread through the cotton, your stitches nowhere near perfect but definitely functional. “It would mean the world to me if you could occupy the menace for two minutes, please .”

“ The menace ,” he repeats, amused. “What’s got you all fired up tonight, huh?” he asks Julie, soothing his hand up and down her back.

She babbles in response to him, and he, as always, reacts like she’s holding a deeply intelligent conversation with him. 

“Ah,” he ponders. “Understandable. I’d be a wreck in your situation too.”

“What is she telling you?” you laugh, shaking your head, eyes never leaving the fabric in front of you.

“Don’t you worry about it,” he brushes you off, ultra-seriously. “Secrets to Dad. Nothing that concerns you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Great. It’s already starting.”

Eddie grins as Julie grabs a fistful of his shirt and launches into another string of nonsense syllables, her tone somewhere between excited and scandalized.

“She says,” Eddie leans in conspiratorially, voice low and serious, “that she requested the blue sippy cup and you gave her the green one .”

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, well. My mistake. Shall I resign now, or later?”

“Up to you, but you’ve clearly lost her trust,” he says, bouncing her gently in his arms. “We’ll be holding interviews for your replacement first thing tomorrow.”

Julie lets out a squawk, flinging one arm dramatically toward you. Eddie gasps. “Oh, you still love her ?” He presses a kiss to her temple. “That’s big of you, kid. Real mature.”

“I’m so honored,” you mutter, knotting the thread and biting off the end with your teeth. “Love from the same baby who tried to eat lint off the carpet an hour ago.”

“She’s an adventurous soul,” Eddie says, lifting her higher and nuzzling her cheek, which earns him a giggle and a satisfied kick to the stomach. “Hey, okay, chill. I'm not a trampoline.”

Julie squeals again, wriggling.

“Alright, alright, you got needs. I get it,” he coos. “But you gotta work with me, sweetheart. Is it food? Diaper? Existential dread?”

“She just ate,” you call over, squinting at the hem of the pants. “And I changed her right before I sat down. So if it’s dread, she inherited that from you.”

“Ha,” he says, smirking. “Nah, she definitely got your death glare. She hit me with it yesterday; I swear it was like… spitting image.”

You fight the grin breaking out on your face.

Julie grunts and leans aggressively to one side in his arms, reaching for something unseen. He spins in a slow circle. “You seeing ghosts again, kid? What’re we aiming for?”

“I swear, she’s got the attention span of a—”

“Of a mini me?” he supplies. “She’s just like me, huh?”

You bark out a laugh. “Nope. Not gonna say it. She’s perfect.”

“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.” Eddie walks over and crouches beside you, Julie now clinging to his shoulder like a baby koala. “How’s it coming?”

You sigh, letting your shoulders sag. “Almost done. I just… God, I don’t know why today was so hard. She didn’t even scream that much.”

“She doesn’t have to scream,” he says, gently nudging your shoulder with his. “She just has to exist. And you, my love, exist so hard all day long. So now you’re wiped. Which is allowed.”

You blink down at the thread in your hands. “That sounded like an insult.”

“It was a compliment. In tired-parent dialect.”

You huff a laugh and nudge him back. “Well, thank you. I think.”

“Anytime.” He kisses the top of your head, then lifts Julie slightly. “And you, young lady, are going to bed the second your mother finishes those pants. You hear me?”

Julie blows a raspberry in response.

Eddie looks at you, deadpan. “She said no.”

You sigh. “Great. Fired and overruled. What a day.”

Julie starts wriggling with renewed determination, tiny legs kicking against Eddie’s ribs as she thrusts one arm outward and chirps, “Ba! Ba ba ba!”

Eddie glances in the direction she’s pointing, roughly toward the bookshelf, or maybe the plant stand, or maybe nothing at all. “What the hell does ba ba ba mean?” he mutters. “That’s gotta be super secret baby code for something. Babe, help me out here.”

You don’t look up from the final stitch you’re tugging into place. “You’re the one she trusts with all her secrets, remember?”

“Right,” he mutters, shifting Julie to his other arm. “Okay. Ba ba ba. Is that bottle? Are you thirsty?” He mimics drinking from an imaginary cup, which earns him a blank stare and then another emphatic, “Ba!”

“Nope. Not bottle,” he confirms. “Book? You want a book?” He gestures toward the bookshelf.

Julie puffs up like she might explode with the sheer injustice of being misunderstood. “BA. BA. BA!!”

“Jesus, alright, okay, don’t yell at me, I’m trying!” Eddie protests, bouncing her lightly. “You’re being really unclear for someone so bossy.”

You tie off the last knot and finally lift your head, watching your little tyrant direct Eddie’s every movement from his arms. And then, suddenly, you freeze, a small laugh catching in your throat.

“Wait… ba ba ba ?” you say, sitting up straighter. 

Eddie’s eyes flick to you. “Yeah. She’s chanting it like a little cult member. You got a theory?”

“Oh my God,” you giggle. “I know what she wants.”

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Please tell me, because she’s about to flip this whole operation.”

“She wants you,” you say, smirking, “to play guitar.”

He frowns. “She wants me to—”

“And sing Barbara Ann,” you finish, pointing at her with your needle like you’ve just cracked a case wide open. “That’s what she’s saying. Ba ba ba, Barbara Ann .”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, then turns to her. “Are you serious right now? You want a concert? You’ve been here fifteen months and you already run this house?”

Julie gurgles something that sounds suspiciously like victory.

“I did play it the other night,” he says slowly, glancing over at his beat-up acoustic in the corner. “She did kind of go nuts for it.”

“I thought you’d be flattered.”

“I would be, if she wasn’t so goddamn demanding about it.”

Julie claps once, then shouts, “BA!!!”

He chuckles and drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” He sighs theatrically, crossing the room to grab the guitar. “Who am I to deny our little queen her Beach Boys fix?”

He carefully sets Julie down in the center of the rug, where she immediately plops onto her diapered butt, eyes wide and waiting like an audience in a sold-out stadium.

“Okay, but if you spit up on my fretboard again, we’re done,” he warns her as he tunes quickly. Then he grins at you. “You’re in luck, too. This’ll buy us like three minutes of peace.”

“Oh, you’re spoiling me,” you say, finally setting the patched pants aside with a satisfied sigh.

Eddie strums a chord, then leans into the imaginary mic in front of him. “Ladies and gentlemen… introducing the hit single of the century…”

Julie wiggles in place, her chubby little hands already up.

He launches into it, voice warm and playful: “ Ba ba ba, ba Barbara Ann …”

Julie lets out a wild shriek of delight, immediately launching into a full-bodied bounce, flapping her arms and swaying like a tipsy wedding guest. You can’t help but laugh, watching her little face light up like a disco ball.

“Look at her go,” you murmur, leaning your head against the arm of the couch.

“She’s got moves,” Eddie says between lines, keeping the rhythm easy and loose as he watches her with pure adoration.

Julie claps, offbeat and enthusiastic, singing her own version of the chorus—mostly just “ba ba BA!”—and falling over onto her side in a heap of giggles. Eddie keeps playing, barely missing a beat as he watches her roll back onto her hands and knees, haul herself upright again, and resume her chaotic dance.  

Eddie continues into the second verse, “Tried Peggy Sue, tried Peggy Lou, tried Mary Lou, but I knew she wouldn’t do…”

“And now who are these women you’re talking about trying, my love?” you tease him, in mock accusation.

He laughs, stumbling over the next chorus, but it doesn’t matter.

Julie spins in a lopsided circle, arms flailing like she’s performing for thousands. She almost topples over, then steadies herself and shouts, “BAAA!”

“She’s calling for her backup dancer,” Eddie teases, throwing you a pointed look over the top of his guitar. “I believe that’s your cue.”

You groan, flopping back against the cushions. “No, no, I’m dead. D-E-A-D. Let the record show that I patched the pants. I’ve fulfilled my maternal duties for the day.”

“C’mon, just a little boogie,” he coaxes, singing another line with extra flair. “ Ba ba ba, ba Barbara Ann… ”

Julie shrieks in approval, clearly believing he’s talking to her.

“See? She’s asking so nicely.”

You roll your eyes and try not to smile. “You’re relentless.”

“But this you knew already. Part of my charm,” he says, winking.

You stay still a second longer, then finally sigh, dragging yourself upright. “Fine. But only because if she wears herself out, I might get to sleep before midnight.”

“That’s the spirit,” Eddie beams.

You push away from the coffee table with an exaggerated groan and shuffle to the middle of the rug beside Julie. She immediately reaches for your hands, squealing with glee when you scoop her up into your arms and give her a lazy little bounce-bounce that sends her into a giggle fit.

Eddie watches the two of you, soft and glowing, still playing as he slows the tempo a little, just enough to keep the rhythm going while letting the moment stretch. “Now that’s stage presence,” he murmurs.

“She takes after her dad,” you say quietly, looking up at him over Julie’s wild curls.

“Hell yeah she does,” he grins, then leans into the last chorus, drawing it out like it’s some sweet lullaby: “You got me rockin’ and a rollin’, rockin’ and a reelin’ Barbara Ann …”

Julie’s movements slow gradually, her babbling starting to soften into happy hums. Her eyes flutter half-closed even as she bounces, forehead eventually tipping forward onto your chest.

You meet Eddie’s eyes again, both of you frozen in place for a second, as if afraid to breathe and ruin the spell.

“She’s fading,” you whisper.

“Victory is ours,” he whispers back, setting the guitar down soundlessly and rising to his feet.

Together, you carry her through the warm hush of the hallway, the practiced choreography of bedtime moving in gentle, quiet steps. Diaper, jammies, the soft light of her nightlight casting animal shapes on the wall.

Eddie smooths her hair back while you settle her into the crib, and she lets out one last, sleep-drunk “ ba… ” before sighing into her blanket.

You both stand there a minute longer, shoulder to shoulder, just watching her.

“I don’t care what anyone says,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist, “that’s our best work.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and smile. “Even if she yells at you in Beach Boys lyrics?”

“Especially because of that.”

You laugh, quietly, and together you tiptoe back down the hallway toward the couch, the echo of music and baby laughter still warm in the walls.

Eddie flicks off the overhead light, leaving only the dim lamp near the couch glowing gold against the walls, and when he sits down, you immediately collapse beside him, stretching out and laying your head in his lap with a sigh that comes from somewhere deep in your bones.

His hand finds your hair instantly, fingers combing through it with no real rhythm, just that easy, grounding affection that he never has to think about anymore.

“Tell me something boring,” you murmur, your voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

“Boring?” he chuckles, still twirling a loose strand. “Oh, you want the full report on carburetors and coolant leaks, huh?”

“Hit me with it,” you say. “Give me that sweet, sweet mechanic talk.”

He laughs again, low and warm. “Alright, well, today was a festival of disasters. Mikey stripped a bolt on an alternator and blamed the tools, and then one of the regulars came in swearing her brakes were haunted. I told her I’d perform an exorcism for an extra forty bucks.”

You snort, eyes closed. “You would.”

“I was kidding,” he says, mock-offended. “She laughed. And then said she’d think about it.”

You hum, already half-drifting. “Did you fix it?”

“Yeah. Turns out the ghost was just a rock stuck behind the pad.” His hand moves gently along the curve of your temple. “What about you two?” he asks, voice gentler now. “I know you said it was rough.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, “she was fine. I think she just needed more attention than I had the energy for.”

“She always wants you,” he says softly.

“She wants both of us,” you correct, then panic flares through you. “I don’t mean— sorry, that wasn’t to make you feel bad,” you tell him, clunky and tired. “She’s… I just want to make sure that you know how much she loves you.”

Eddie’s fingers still for just a second, and then he cups the side of your head, thumb brushing gently behind your ear. “Hey,” he says softly, leaning over a little so you’ll look up at him. “I know that. I know.”

You blink, suddenly a little overwhelmed, even in the soft hush of the room. “I just— sometimes I say stuff and I hear it after, and I worry it sounds like I’m... I don’t know. Blaming you for not being here.”

His face softens even more. “You don’t need to explain. I get it.”

You reach up and curl your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, holding on like you’re worried you’ve messed everything up with one sleepy, clumsy sentence. “It’s just hard,” you admit quietly. “Some days, it feels like all I do is count the hours ‘til you’re home. And then you walk in, and she lights up like the Fourth of July, and I— God , I’m so glad, but I also feel like I’m about to fall over.”

Eddie nods, his other hand now smoothing down your arm, grounding you. “I think about you two all damn day,” he says. “Every time I have to crawl under a car, I’m thinking about how I’m gonna wrench my back and you’ll be stuck with me limping around like I’m eighty. Or I’m checking the time, wondering if she’s napping or trying to climb the kitchen cabinets.”

“She did try that today,” you mutter.

He lets out a quiet laugh. “See? I knew it.”

There’s a pause. He looks at you with that particular kind of tenderness he reserves for just his two girls. “It’s hard being away. I hate it. I miss all the little stuff. I miss you.”

Your throat goes tight. You sit up slowly, shifting into his arms, and he wraps you in them without hesitation, tucking your head beneath his chin. You press your face into the crook of his neck and stay there for a beat, breathing in the grease and soap and home that is Eddie.

“She did this thing today,” you say softly, a smile curling into your voice. “She was chewing on that little wooden ring toy, and I looked at her and said, ‘Julie, what are you doing?’ And she just looked me dead in the eye, took it out of her mouth, and offered it to me. Like, ‘ here, Mom. You try .’”

He laughs quietly against your hair. “Kind of her to include you.”

“Right,” you mumble, smiling. “But I took it. Bit the damn thing and everything.”

“You did not,” he says, pulling back to look at you, eyes crinkling. “Ewwwwwwwww.”

“I did! What was I supposed to do? She was so proud.”

Eddie shakes his head, his smile soft and crooked. “You’re such a sucker.”

“For her? Yeah. And so are you.”

“No argument there,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to your temple. “You know who’s the biggest sucker, though?” You hum. “Wayne. Dinner with him tomorrow night, remember.”

“He’s gonna lose it when he sees her,” you say eventually, your voice warm again. “She’s got that little tutu he gave her last time. I was gonna put her in it.”

Eddie groans dramatically. “He’s gonna cry. You know he’s gonna cry.”

You smile, eyes already heavy again. “She really loves him.”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs. “She’s got good taste.”

He rocks you slightly, just enough to keep you from falling asleep right there on the couch. “Maybe we’ll get him to hold her long enough that we can finish a hot meal for once.”

“Oh my God,” you whisper dramatically. “A full dinner. Without interruption. Do you think it’s possible?”

He kisses your cheek. “With enough mashed potatoes? Anything’s possible.”

Author's note: Hi! Sorry I've been gone for a month! I'm working on how dare you want more, as well as several other works (or course).

This is probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. Loved writing this one, and I've already started on some other entries in this universe. As always, let me know what you think! <3

And a reminder that you can also find me over on ao3!