#IN TWO MONTHS I GET ONE COMMENT AND ITS A NEW SLUR

[willowsnook]

The Ultimate Crossover

quinn hughes x stroll!reader

——————————————————-

After a childhood in the spotlight, and befriending one of the most popular athletes while you were in college, your goal for your life when you moved to Vancouver was to fly under the radar. So far, you were killing it.

You’d been on the athletic training staff for the Canucks for six months now and not one person had brought up your family or a certain quarterback that still called you once a week to chat. Here you were just a normal girl with a normal job.

The guys had all been really nice to you and you loved Vancouver. You grew up in Montreal and as much as you loved being in the US for college, you wanted to be back in Canada to start the rest of your life. You had a couple of childhood friends who had moved to Vancouver after high school so you reconnected with them and were integrated into their friend group.

That friend group is who you were with now, sitting in a VIP section of a new club that had just opened. Your last name carried a lot of weight so you ended up being invited to opening weekend and asked to bring as many friends as you wanted.

It had never crossed your mind that you could see anyone from work so you were surprised when you heard your name being called as you were heading to the bathroom. Turning, you saw two Canucks’s players, staring at you like they were mesmerized.

“Hi boys,” you said tipsily. Elias was the first to meet your eyes, Quinn was still in a trance looking at the way your short, tight, dress hit all of your curves perfectly. You flushed under his stare, feeling naked.

Not many guys could catch your attention these days, especially ones that were famous, but there was something about Quinn Hughes. It had to be his quiet nature, he was a mystery to you. He was always polite to you when you worked on him, almost too polite to where it was frustrating. A lot of the other guys, Petey included, treated you like a friend. With Quinn it was all business.

“You look hot,” Petey said bluntly and you laughed as Quinn elbowed him in the side.

“Thanks Petey,” you said sweetly. “When did you guys get here?”

”We just did,” Petey said. “Are you in a VIP section? I thought I saw you come out of one.”

“Yeah,” you said nodding to your friends and both the boys looked over. Petey gave you a confused look.

“How’d you manage that section? We had to beg to get a spot this weekend,” Petey said and you looked away, trying to figure out something to say. “You must know someone important.”

”Yeah, something like that,” you muttered before looking towards the bathroom. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Your best friend Anna was waiting for you when you got back, an eyebrow raised.

“Can I just say I’m very jealous that you get to work with men that look like that?” She said and you laughed. You followed her gaze to where a group of Canucks players were, settling on Quinn who was nursing a drink and listening intently to something Petey was saying.

“Yeah yeah,” you said back to her. “Let’s dance please.”

Anna called over a couple of other friends and you all made it to the dance floor. It felt good to stop thinking about work and other life things and just let go. By the end of the night you were stumbling out, after telling your friends goodbye. Standing on the sidewalk outside, you shivered as you waited for your Uber to pull up. A jacket was placed over your shoulders and you held it close to you, turning to its owner.

“Little cold for that outfit,” Quinn commented, looking unbothered without his jacket; his long sleeve quarterzip clung to his body.

“It was hot inside,” you said with a slight slur, stumbling as you turned to face him completely. His arms shot out to steady you, an amused smile on his face.

“Easy there,” he said.

“I feel like you don’t like me,” you said, the alcohol in your system deciding this was a great time to bring it up. His eyebrows furrowed at your words, lips turning into a frown.

“Why do you think that?” He asked and you sighed dramatically, moving your hands to his shoulders as you looked at him.

“Everyone jokes around with me besides you,” you complained. “Yeah you’re friendly but you are literally one second away from calling me ma’am. Everyone loves me but you.”

Quinn was amused by the pout on your face as you confessed this to him. His hands were resting gently on your waist and he allowed himself to enjoy it for a moment before disconnecting from you.

“I’m the captain y/n,” he said. “That means I have to set a good example for the team. Part of that example is having professional relationships with the staff, no matter how attractive a particular staff member might be.”

You blushed at his words but felt a wave of giddiness, “so you do think I’m attractive.”

Quinn’s cheeks tinted pink and you smiled wider.

“It’s okay Quinny, I won’t tell anyone,” you said cheerfully. “I guess I can live with this, it’s refreshing to have someone treat me like a normal person anyways.”

“What does that mean?” Quinn asked and you were saved by the bell: your Uber pulled up right as he asked. You ignored his question and pressed your lips to his cheek before climbing into the car.

—————————————————

Quinn was itching to get back on the ice; this hand injury business was driving him insane. In his mind, he was ready to be cleared, but the head athletic trainer disagreed. So here he was yet again, in the training room waiting to get evaluated.

“Hey Quinn, sorry I’m late,” you said, greeting him as you neared the table he was on. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, expecting to see your boss.

“Where’s Roman?” He asked.

“He’s in a meeting, so you are stuck with me,” you said with a teasing smile. After washing your hands you turned back to him, reaching out for him to put his hand in yours. Losing yourself in concentration as you looked him over, you didn’t notice how his breath hitched as you got into his space.

Your vanilla perfume smelled like heaven to Quinn and he was trying to look anywhere else besides at you. You bit your lip as you focused and Quinn wondered what they would feel like against his own lips. What would your hands feel like on other parts of him? He was lost in thought and flinched when you moved one of his fingers.

“Fuck,” he snapped and you smiled apologetically at him.

“I’m sorry, just trying to get an idea of the mobility right now.”

“I want to play,” he said, and you looked him in the eye, your heart sinking at the sad look he was giving you.

“I know, it is getting better,” you said and he deflated. “Maybe we can find some kind of brace that would work.”

“How long would that take?”

“Let me talk to Roman about it okay?” You said and he nodded but you could tell something else was going on. “It’s normal to want to get back immediately, but that’s why I’m here, to protect you.”

“I know,” he said, offering you a small smile. “The Petey/JT thing is getting worse and I feel like I’m not making an impact there and now I’m not on the ice.”

“They’re grown men, Quinn,” you said nonchalantly. “Maybe all you need to do is lock them in a room and not let them out until they figure it out.”

“Not a bad idea, thanks,” he said.

“I’m full of them,” you said cheerfully, grabbing your things. Quinn watched you leave, noticing that he was starting to get more flustered everytime he was around you.

“What’s on your mind Huggy?” Petey called out as Quinn walked back into the locker room. He was rubbing at his hand absentmindedly which didn’t go unnoticed by his teammate. “Have it looked at again?”

“Yeah, y/n thinks it won’t be long now,” he muttered, a slight pink tint covering his cheeks at the mention of you which made Petey grin.

“So y/n saw you,” he said casually.

“That’s her job,” Quinn replied, not giving in to where he knew Petey was going with this.

“She looked good the other night, don’t ya think?” Petey pressed and Quinn shot him a look.

“No fraternizing with Canucks employees,” Quinn recited from the HR handbook.

“Whatever man, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at her the other night.”

————later that night———————-

The Canucks ended up pulling off a good win and the locker room was buzzing. Sometimes when other athletes or celebs attended the game they came to hang out afterwards, especially if it was a win. So Quinn wasn’t surprised to see some NFL players hanging around, especially since the ones there now weren’t in the playoffs.

“Quinn, meet Joe,” Petey said and Quinn turned to see Joe Burrow standing there. They shook hands in greeting, chatting a little bit about the Bengals season and mutual friends they had. Joe hung around until Quinn was leaving, following him out.

“Are you coming out with us?” Quinn asked and Joe shook his head.

“I’m actually here to surprise my friend,” he said and Quinn nodded as they walked.

“Does she work for the Canucks?” He asked.

“Yeah, she’s an athletic trainer,” Joe said and Quinn stopped; there was only one female on the athletic training staff.

“Y/n?” Quinn asked and Joe’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, do you know where I can find her?”

Quinn felt a weird sense of irritation at Joe’s excitement to see you and it took everything in him to not say no and leave him. He told Joe to follow him, leading them to the athletic training offices where he knew you’d be wrapping up.

“Joey!” He heard you squeal as you saw Joe.

“Hi angel,” Joe said, holding his arms out for you to jump into. You held him tight, tears filling your eyes as you took him in. He gave you a lazy grin, wiping one that had escaped down your cheek.

“Tears for me?” He joked and you hit him.

“Happy tears, I’ve missed you,” you said. You hadn’t seen him since the summer and it had been hard. You were glued to each other’s side in college and you followed him to Cincinnati so when you left, you both suffered a little bit.

Quinn was watching the interaction with a sour taste in his mouth. He did not like seeing another man holding you and before he could stop himself he stepped forward.

“Can you look at my hand y/n?” He asked randomly and you gave him a confused look.

“You didn’t play?”

“Someone bumped into me,” he mumbled, embarrassed but you didn’t notice, just sighing as you stepped away from Joe.

“Yeah let’s see it captain,” you said beckoning him into the training room. You turned to Joe, “wait for me?”

“Of course, I’ll be chilling by the locker room,” he told you and you smiled.

Quinn hopped up on the table and you looked over his hand.

“It literally looks the same,” you said looking up at him.

“It hurts,” he countered and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed a bottle of lotion and started to lightly massage around the sensitive areas.

“So how do you know Joe?” Quinn asked, trying to be casual.

“We went to college together,” you replied, not looking up. “I interned with the athletic training department my senior year and worked with him a bit and we just hit it off.”

“So you’re just friends?” He asked and your head snapped up, a small smirk on your lips.

“Why, jealous?” You asked and he scoffed, looking away. “Is that why you dragged me in here to look at your hand that I literally looked at earlier today?”

Quinn didn’t say anything and you smiled wider, “what happened to staying professional to be an example? What would your teammates think about you faking an injury to hang out with an athletic trainer?”

”I don’t like you,” he said pouting and you wiped the excess lotion off on your jeans.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Let’s go captain.”

He followed you out of the room and back down the hall. Joe was talking with some other players but lit up when he saw you again.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded.

“Not coming out with us?” Petey asked Joe who shook his head.

“Nah, we’ve got a whole season of House of Dragon to catch up on,” he said and you beamed. You said bye to the boys and left with Joe. Petey shot an amused look at Quinn.

“Not a word.”

———————————

“I’m exhausted, see you in the morning?” You asked Joe, who was sprawled out on your couch.

“Yeah, then you can tell me what’s going on with you and Quinn,” he said nonchalantly and you froze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly, cleaning off the coffee table and not making eye contact with him.

“Sure, angel,” he said. “I’ll just pretend that I didn’t notice you looking at him like he was a god.”

“I don’t look at him like that,” you snapped back and Joe grinned.

“Touchy subject?”

“We work together Joe, nothing could happen,” you said, sighing. “Plus we don’t really even know each other that well.”

“You mean he doesn’t know that he could play professional hockey for the next ten years and still not come even close to having as much money as you do?” He asked and you threw a pillow at him.

“People get weird when they know who my family is, you know that,” you said and he gave you a sad smile. Your dad had worked so incredibly hard for everything he had and you were proud of him. You wouldn’t trade your family for the world, but you had a lifetime of people only being friends with you because of your wealth so it was a touchy subject. When Lance made it to F1, it only got worse, now you had people who wanted you for your money AND access to your brother.

“But you like him,” Joe said and you sighed.

“A little, yeah,” you admitted. “I like how I can be myself around him, he’s a good listener, and the way he leads the team is attractive.”

Joe smiled at you, “I’m happy for you, y/n. Don’t get in your own way.”

————-Canadian Grand Prix——————-

It had been a few months since you had admitted your crush on Quinn to Joe but nothing had really happened. He got over his injury so you saw him less at first but as you got closer to the team, you saw him at social events a lot. The energy between the two of you had definitely been flirty but he hadn’t made any kind of move.

“It’s like he’s scared to be alone with me,” you complained to your sister Chloe, after she picked you up from the airport.

“That’s a good thing then,” your sister said. “It means he doesn’t trust himself around you.”

You rolled your eyes, “well I’m tired of it.”

“You know he’s going to be here this weekend right?” She asked and you nodded. The Canucks had a game in Montreal, and since it was the same weekend as the GP, a few players had been invited to the paddock, Quinn included.

“In the Alpine garage though, so it doesn’t matter,” you said and she smirked.

“Well I can’t wait to meet him,” she said. “Better hope he doesn’t run into Lance.”

You stopped cold, “What do you mean? How does Lance even know about him?”

“Oh it’s just come up a couple of times,” your sister said. “It’s been a while since you had an interesting crush so I was excited.”

“You are the worst,” you complained. You prayed that they wouldn’t cross paths.

Unfortunately, your wish did not come true.

Quinn and Petey were walking around the paddock when Petey stopped what appeared to be two drivers who were walking nearby.

“Esteban man, good to see you,” Petey said, dapping him up. How Petey knew all these random athletes was a mystery to Quinn.

“Hey Elias,” Esteban said. Petey introduced Quinn to Esteban and Esteban introduced the other driver. “This is Lance.”

Lance eyed Quinn curiously and Esteban caught on, laughing loudly.

“So you’re friends with y/n?” Lance asked and Quinn stiffened in surprise.

“Our athletic trainer? Yeah I guess,” he said awkwardly.

“If you ever make her cry I will end your career,” Lance said and Quinn shot Petey a confused look.

“Okay? I’m not sure how that would be any of your business, even if there was something going on,” Quinn said. Esteban looked at him in wonder before realizing what was going on.

“Oh my, he doesn’t know,” Esteban said, smirking at Lance, who was still glaring at Quinn.

“Know what?” Petey asked.

“That y/n is my sister,” Lance said and Quinn felt all the blood drain from his face. Y/n was a Stroll? The girl he had a crush on was worth billions and now her brother, her famous F1 brother, was glaring daggers at him. Petey burst out laughing at the revelation and Esteban looked incredibly amused.

Of course, this was the moment that you chose to appear, seeing the back of your brother and not who he was talking to.

“Lance!” You yelled excitedly. He turned around to face you and you frowned at the sour look on his face but when your eyes met Petey’s you had a good idea who else was there.

Quinn was frowning at you and your heart sank at the look of betrayal he was giving you.

“Hi y/n,” Lance said, pulling you in for a hug. “Met some of your friends here.”

”I can see that,” you muttered. Petey was giving you a cheeky look but Quinn wouldn’t meet your eyes. Lance launched into conversation with Esteban and Petey but both you and Quinn stayed silent. As the drivers were called off to get ready for a practice run, you stayed with Petey and Quinn.

“I’m going to head back to the garage,” Petey said and you nodded, not taking your eyes off of Quinn. He left and the two of you stood in front of each other, neither saying anything.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” he admitted and you deflated. “I don’t like feeling like you were hiding something from me.”

“I wasn’t hiding it from you, it just didn’t come up,” you argued and he gave you a look. “Just because I don’t go around telling everyone who my dad is doesn’t mean I was keeping it a secret.”

Quinn let out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?” He asked and you nodded. You led him to the Aston Martin garage, smiling at your brother’s team members as you entered and headed towards his drivers room. He was about to be on the track so you knew it would be open.

Shutting the door behind him, Quinn looked at you as you stood nervously before him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked softly.

“Because I liked being a normal person in your life,” you said and he tilted his head, indicating for you to go on. “I’m not a normal person Quinn. My family is worth almost $4 billion. I can’t go out with my family without being mobbed by the press. I don’t have a ton of friends, because most people that I meet just want to use me.”

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you finished, your voice quiet, almost fragile. “I didn’t want you to see me as just that girl—the one with the famous family, the one who’s always surrounded by people who want something from her.”

Quinn stood still for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he stepped closer. Slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“You think I’d see you that way?” His voice was soft but firm. “All I see is a woman who is smart, funny, and makes it difficult to focus. That’s still all I see when I look at you now.”

”Then why haven’t you done anything?” You asked, frustrated. “You’ve had to have known that I have feelings for you.”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips, “HR policy.”

Groaning, you laid your head on his chest.

”You are so irritating,” you complained. “This means that you were actually jealous when Joe visited, right?”

Quinn rolled his eyes, “I didn’t like how he was looking at you.”

“He’s my best friend Quinn,” you said, looking up at him.

”I don’t have to like it,” he argued and you smirked.

“You quite literally do have to like him if you want to be with me,” you countered.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, burying his head into your shoulder as your arms wrapped around him. You sighed into his touch, happy to have finally figured this part of your life out and feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Quinn pulled back, looking at you with an amused face.

“What?” You asked.

“This means that you are officially my sugar mama,” he teased and you snorted.

“Whatever captain,” you said and you lifted up your feet to press your lips against his. The kiss was everything you imagined it would be: soft, but filled with a lot of emotions. His hand moved down to grip your waist as the kiss deepened and your hands fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. You were just about to tug it up when the door banged open.

“Are you fucking serious right now y/n?” Lance complained. You giggled as you pulled back, shielding Quinn from your brother’s irritation.

“Sorry Lancey,” you said with a sweet smile. His eyes softened at you and he rolled his eyes, stepping away.

”You’re setting me up for failure,” Quinn murmured in your ear and you laughed.

”You set yourself up for being on the Canucks and not the Canadiens.”

[mania-sama]

😊 and 📅 for the ask game!!

you ask and i shall PROVIDE

➼ 😊 A fic that made you smile on a bad day

Soccer Ball, More Like Sock Her Balls by grandmascokebag, MystK04. I cannot describe this fic in a way that does it justice. It's a Jujutsu Kaisen modern: no powers AU that is so fucking ridiculous at every point and turn that it is impossible to not laugh. It's pure crack for the sake of crack and I love it to PIECES. I think they did genuinely upload on some rough days of mine by coincidence, and it is sufficient to say that I was cracking up even when I saw the EMAIL for the update. I mean, really. Look at the title. Look at who WROTE IT. The authors have such a talent at being stupid and funny and ridiculous in every single line just for the hell of it. And, you know, it actually DOES have a plotline. It just has some sidequests along the way.

It's just a silly crack fic that hasn't been updated in half a year. But I sitll have hope that one day the authors are gonna come around and add one more chapter. That would certainly put a smile on my face. Maybe they'll do it when I'm having a bad day again...

Quotation:

“Wait,” Gojo paused. “Isn’t alcohol a sin?” “It’s only a sin if you get drunk,” slurred the clearly drunk man. Gojo shrugged the comment off, not willing to waste his limited brainpower on the thought. “Hate the sin, love the sinner, I guess.” “EXACTLY.” the older man clapped him hard on the shoulder. “You get it.” “Sure, sure. It’s like the age-old question, y’know,” Gojo almost fell off the stool as he leaned back. “Gay son or thot daughter?”

(Don't let this quote fool you. The chapter is actually in Megumi's point of view. The whole fic can be any point of view at any point in time. ALWAYS stay on your toes.)

➼ 📆 A fic you’d re-read 10 years from now

... When I Awake by wildflowertea. NO I am not just saying this because you wrote it. I am saying this because this fic literally changed my perspective on life, death, and suffering.

Not to get into my feelings too much, but I do experience some pretty crazy mood swings every couple of months. I will be doing well, phenomenally so, and then I will collapse and burn out of nowhere. I don't talk about my swings publicly anymore because that's just not what I really do; if I need a place or space to rant, I have friends and family. I no longer feel the need to air out my current/active grievances and struggles with my mental health and body on the Internet. I also think it would be weird considering what people follow me for (which is, decidedly, not for my mental health journey).

But anyway, the point is: I am familiar with depression and general angst and how it affects me. I have lived life as much as the next person. I know that, in a decade from now, I may have forgotten some of the lessons I learned when I originally read your fic. Beyond being an amazingly well-written, well-structured fic, you literally changed my life. When I write, I aspire to craft something as elegantly as you did. So, if I am being completely honest, this is the fic I imagine I will be crawling back to in a decade from now. I will have new life experiences, new outlooks, and I imagine I will want to see how that compares to the fic you finished two years ago (GOD it's been two years already?)

For anyone unaware: this is a Bungou Stray Dogs fic where Dazai is the spirit of his comatose body after a failed(?) suicide attempt, and Chuuya is a musician who just lost his father and is thus taking a complete detox from the world itself by trapping himself in (unknowingly) Dazai's old apartment to wrap himself in his pain and misery. Neither are in a good place at the beginning of the fic. But, somehow, they come out quite alright. I cried 3 times reading this, if it gives any of you any sort of clue as to how emotionally this impacted me.

Quotation:

“Why am I here?” Dazai asks. “After all this time.” Death stares at him, its one visible eye narrowed. “Are you here to take me away?” Death raises an eyebrow as if insulted by the very implications.  “I am not cruel, Osamu.” But that is no answer.  “Walk with me.” “No,” Dazai says. 

(The entire meeting with Death is my favorite scene in the entirety of this story, if that wasn't obvious. It made me feel. It made me feel a LOT.)

[talenlee]

June 2025 Wrapup!

That’s it. We’re out of Pride. No more Pride, we’re all done here. That means it’s time to look back on a month of articles and consider how can we bring the energy to be gayer and angier the rest of the year?

Game Pile

All My Exes Are In Mech Suits, a novel three-person RPG of sequential prompts that I looked at because I was trying to find something niche from a undersupporter creator, got one of the leading academics in the field, oops.

Samus Probably Isn’t Cis, a video about how Metroid Fusion gave Samus a voice and we otherwise got a character with an absence of gender information being filled in by assumptions. This video got some goobers commenting on, which was great – I got to see someone claim entirely ridiculously, that I used ‘the c word’ because I was afraid of admitting what it really meant, which is ‘straight.’ Listen sunshine, I’m Australian, we have another C word and you people can’t even pronounce it right.

Battle of the Boy Bands, a silly funny card game that’s really good for its price point and its mechanical design.

Why Do Trans Women Love New Vegas (Video)? It’s hard to say since it’s only recently gone up but I’m super proud of this video about the way we talk about media and the way we treat the presence of trans women in a fandom.

Story Pile

My Brother’s Husband, an agonising and beautiful manga about gay grief.

Just Be Free, by Big Freedia, a banger of an album that’s very gay.

Bang Brave Bang Bravern, a banger of an anime that’s very gay.

Ranma 1/2 (2024, Season 1), another, different banger of an anime that’s very straight but in the gayest fucking way.

Drive-Away Dolls, which goes up tomorrow, but spoilers, it’s a killer movie about funny lesbians and it’s a caper.

This month’s Dev Pile posts were about building out a case study of Lysenco, in plain language to then doll up fancily in academic language. This is how a lot of my stuff works at this stage; I write in plain language, then I go through and revise, paragraph by paragraph into formal language. I have a real hard time writing directly academically, and that’s because academic writing is extremely structurally different to what I normally do. What I normally do, what you’re reading here is what I think of as performance rhetoric; the default voice of my writing is a preacher delivering a message with a punchline.

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

If you like my articles about worldbuilding, or about Cobrin’Seil, you know, the stuff generally in the space of Dungeons & Dragons. I wrote a piece considering the ways characters and places get named, and how those names suggest something about the language. I also dug into the history of the Changelings of Cobrin’Seil, and the challenges of contemplating a culture of people who definitionally can stop being found if they don’t want to be found. Since we’re in the space of Dungeons & Dragons, I also dug into the way the prestige class titles of 3rd edition D&D replicated a massive gender bias, and the limited view of Love that 4th edition had (even if it accidentally became pro-polyamry).

Pride Month brought with it some articles on media that includes a sort of accidental queerness. I talked about how Tigatron became the earliest Transformer in a gay relationship, thanks to a gender swap. I talked about how N in Pokemon has two mothers, and I dug into the recent queer characters introduced to the Magic: The Gathering canon by Tarkir: Dragonstorm. Then I examined the relationship to souls, bodies, and sexuality in The Locked Tomb.

But don’t worry, I also had time to get good and mad! I talked about the way Christianity conducts child sacrifice, about how It’s Not Really About Trans Women In Sport, and how I learned a new slur from an anime about MMORPGs.

This month’s design was, in honour of Corporate Pride merchandise that you should never buy, I made this design for an Umbrella Corp Philadelphia Pride Inclusion logo. Other people have done them but they’re just a bit too simple, a bit too basic for my tastes. You can get it as a sticker or magnet, (white text, black text).

The defining event of June for me has been marking and tending to Elli, as he recovers from his surgery. He went in for a splenectomy on the second of June, and the reason he did that was because his spleen showed some abnormal growth. This was something that was not, on its own, a problem, but, because there’s always a chance it could be something our options were to monitor him with regular vet visits, or get a splenectomy. There’s a third option that’s… unhinged to describe to me, so never mind that.

The splenectomy is a big up-front cost, and then requires about ten to fourteen days of recovery, with a secondary followup. Regular monitoring is a smaller cost, but regular, and there’s always that chance that something bad happens between the monitoring, and then we need to do a splenectomy anyway, or worse. Also, there’s the possibility that a cost shock – like, what if our work situation changes – means that we have to skip a monitoring, or go into debt for a monitoring.

We made the decision to do the splenectomy, up front, and then turned the living room into a camp. One of the things that Elli couldn’t do while he had stitches and his guts were all awkward is jump, or walk. That meant he couldn’t get up on the seat next to me where he likes to sit and nestle next to me. That also meant he couldn’t get up on the bed, where he normally sleeps. Since he’s so cuddly, we set up a sleeping arrangement, where Fox could sleep and he could just walk over to sleep next to her, without having to jump up.

All this was happening while I was trying to mark student work! That meant long days of watching student video, reading student material, investigating student games. I also had to do this while helping Fox with things while she tended to and took care of Elli, or indeed, did her job.

That was the month. That was the work!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[emilysidhe]

Getting worse at writing these up before bed, but I did watch one last night:

94. Episode 1011 Horrors of Spider Island

Content warning: Like I said in the last post, I’ll let a certain amount of unfortunate riffs pass by without any comment, but I’ll try to warn for anything particularly egregious in either frequency or degree of offensiveness, and in this one the anti-trans slur “she-male” is used to mock a cis-female character. (Disclaimer that I won’t always be paying enough attention to catch particularly offensive one-off riffs.)

Summary: A night-club producer and his secretary/girlfriend audition dancers for a troupe to go on international tour. But en route to their first stop in Singapore, their plane goes down over the Pacific and the survivors take the emergency raft to an uninhabited island. There, they find a cabin with the body of a lone geologist strung up in a giant spiderweb, along with his notes about finding uranium on the island and enough stored food to last them about a month. The producer (the sole male survivor) gets bitten by an irradiated spider the size of a small dog the first night and immediately transforms into a spider beast, subtly enough that the filmmakers decide they don’t have to bother with his makeup and prosthetics whenever they’re filming him from behind. Theoretically he spends a month lurking in the jungle and menacing the girls, but after killing the exotic dancer who’d been trying to tempt him into infidelity as a human, he’s barely glimpsed for weeks as the camera focuses on the dancers becoming more (sexily) distraught and their clothes being shredded by island living as the weeks drag on without rescue. But just when the food is running out, the dead geologist’s two research assistants return from the mainland, discover the girls, and announce that a new ship is swinging by in two days to pick up the geologist’s research notes. As the girls sexily compete over the first male attention they’ve seen in weeks, the spider monster finally gets around to attacking people.

MST3K lore or notable moments: None in this episode

What do I think about its placement on the list? I’m embarrassed to admit that I’d rank this one quite a bit higher. This is by far the most overt exploitation film of its kind that they’ve done; enough to make it immediately memorable, which is no small feat. (Eventually all the monster movies and biker films and bad 80s horror episodes start to run together, even when they’re good.) I know from the research of other MiSTies that this softcore exploitation film was more explicit in its original European release, but that the American version had to cut anything truly raunchy. The print MST3K uses is also a bit degraded, so there are also a lot of closeups that you can’t see details of anymore. The way that it’s So Very Much Exactly What It Is but also mostly failing at what it’s trying to do makes for a comedic experience throughout, and the riffing’s pretty solid (aside from the caveat in the content warning). Like the other girly pictures they’ve done, the riffers alternate between commenting on the movie’s sexism and making jokes that are just sexist, but this movie’s giving them so much to work with that they keep getting steered back to the first category. And these episodes often have one riff that particularly resonates with me for one reason or another, and the bit where the women are trying to make a smoke signal to a passing ship that ignores them and Crow quips, “Darn Californian, it never saves anyone!” has had me giggling all day. So in the end, I’m sorry women (including myself, who am a women), but Horrors of Spider Island should be a top 75 MST3K episode.

[badass-at-fandoming]

Werewolf Books & Movie Recs

I commented on this post with werewolf book and movie recs, and I wanted to cross-post it here because it was so fun to make!

The original post mentions Teen Wolf, American Werewolf in London, Ginger Snaps, Dog Soldiers, Van Helsing movies, Disney's Werewolf-By-Night special, Wolfwalkers, Dungeon Meshi/Delicious in the Dungeon, After Dark Webtoon, Night Class comic, Bisclavret, Trick R Treat, Werewolf Fever, Strippers VS Werewolves, and Bad Moon.

Books (links to Storygraph)

Kitty Norville series by Carrie Vaugh - tries to have a more realistic take on werewolves and pack dynamics. A kickass radio DJ heroine, the fall of the Masquerade, and various horror show adventures

Her Wolf in the Wild by Rien Gray - butch biker werewolf romance in the American Southwest by an author with a golden touch. I love everything they write!

Queer Werewolves Destroy Capitalism by MJ Lyons - smutty m/m erotica collection with two stories featuring a werewolf and his trans mage boyfriend destroying capitalism

The Alchemy of Moonlight by David Ferraro - A YA gay gothic romance wherein a marquis disguises himself as a servant and discovers his new employers have a very furry secret

Wolfsong by TJ Klune - this one has been recommended to the moon and back, but for good reason! Ox is reunited with a mysterious boy and it's time to solve a murder.

Mead Mishaps series, Book 2: That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf by Kimberly Lemming - I ADORE this series. Bloody and cozy with delicious world-building, great humor, and hot smut. You can read it out of order, but after one you'll likely want to read them all.

Bored Gay Werewolf by Tony Santorella - New Adult coming of age where a gay slacker werewolf gets a life coach who is a little too helpful

Squad graphic novel by Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Lisa Sterle - a YA coming-of-age about a girl who joins a werewolf pack that dedicates itself to eating one rapist every month.

Find even more on Book Riot's 8 Werewolf Books From Around the World, 50 Must Read Werewolf Romance Books, Leaders of the Pack

Movies (links to IMDB)

As Boas Maneiras (2017) - Brazilian lesbian film about a nanny who falls for her employer while also growing increasingly worried about the child growing inside

The Wolfman (1941) - Lon Chaney Jr's many appearances as Larry Talbot are really great to help understand the popularization of the werewolf as uncontrolled id. His films are the ancestor of American Werewolf in London, Ginger Snaps, and Van Helsing movies. Also, yanno, they're easy to find online or at libraries. As a product of its time, there are anti-Romani slurs and racist language, so take care while watching

My Animal (2023) - sapphic werewolf horror/romance where young love brings out the animal within

Bloodthirsty (2020) - an indie singer joins colleagues on a remote retreat to create new music, but starts having dreams of hunger and the hunt.

Jack and Diane (2012) - Two young sapphic women meet in New York and sparks fly. Except when Jack informs Diane that she plans to move soon, Diane's possessive nature turns hairy.

[omi-papus]

Light The Lamp

Part:4

Ao3 link

Content: Age difference, ADHD x Autism, Ableist slur, Ice Hockey AU, Human Al-An AU, Drug use

Summary: Rookie ice hockey player Robin Ayou stuns the league with a controve./rsial but impressive debut, catching the eye of popular YouTuber Alan Silvester. Known for his hockey insights. After an awkward first encounter, he begs her to feature in one of his videos. And she after thinking shes found her new babygirl cant help but agree.

Word count: 8.6k

A/N: Not much to say. Glad I picked this up again. Took a while and this chapter is a bit short but its one Ive been waiting to write for a while.

What the fuck.

He was losing his mind. That's the only explanation. He got hit in the head without realizing, and now it was affecting him hard. This hadn't happened in years, how could it possibly be happening now? 

It has to be some kind of mistake.

Its impossible.

But here he is.

Alan

He was

Bored.

He sat hunched over on the only chair in his dinning table, without food or drink, just himself in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday. The translucent blinds shut to keep the harsh sun rays out but still letting enough light bleed in as to make his whole apartment look sterile. His house was completely clean. His desktops, both in his office and at home were in perfect order, and most importantly, he had ten videos all recorded and edited, ready for posting on their assigned publication dates. Basically leaving him with two months worth of content already completed. 

Now, this wasn't the first time this has happened. Hockey was a seasonal sport, so naturally there were periods where there was not much current stuff to talk about. In those times he would focus on more general videos, or analyze older games from decades prior. But this time, he had used up all the topic ideas he had listed out and had gone through all the games he wanted to cover. So basically, he was in a creative rut.

It really shouldn't be a problem. He was so ahead of schedule me could spend those two months doing nothing and it would be fine. But that's just it. Doing nothing wasn't part of his game plan. His routine involved twelve hours of work every day, with the rare exception of days he would work more. And now with nothing to do, how was he supposed to maintain that?

He tried to use his time getting his finances in order, but with Ryley around that was already mostly taken care of, and it had only taken him and hour to finish off all of his spreadsheets and payments. And now he could only sit alone, wondering what to do with himself. 

When he was a commentator he would have been elated with this opportunity. Using the free time tow write on his hockey blog he had at the time. But now, his hobby was his job. So without work to do he didn't really have anything.

He thought of what he knew most people did when they had free time, went on vacation, watched TV shows, read books. He didn't like traveling. The only streaming serviced he had were sports centric and he didn't know of any shows that would interest him so he didn't have anything to pirate either. Same thing with books. 

Alan had always known this about himself, but it was not often that he got reminded this harshly. Alan was a really one dimensional person. He had this one thing his life revolved around, and without it, he had nothing left. 

There was another surprising feeling that was simmering within him at that moment. He was feeling lonely. There was a desire to complain, to talk to somebody about his creative block, about his boredom, about this deep emptiness he was feeling, but did he have anyone to do that with? Ryley was very strict about his work hours and professionalism, so he wouldn't allow Alan to talk to him if it wasn't completely necessary. His mother would just remind him of what he already knew, that it was pathetic to be that one note that your life falls apart the second you're unoccupied. And his friends… well that was complicated. One was a fellow commentator from back in the day, who still worked for the same network. Alan only found out later through receiving a drunken voice mail from him that he had actually never liked him, and that he found him creepy and annoying, and since then, even after the voice note was deleted, Alan didn't feel comfortable reaching out anymore. The other was a friend from college. Alan's chest ached when he thought of her. Kimberly was what Alan had always imagined a real friend was. She was the only person to ever find him funny. And would not only listen to him talk day in and day out but respond in thoughtful and interesting ways to everything he said. Alan hadn't ever felt someone truly get him in that way before.

But as they grew older things changed. Alan could precisely pinpoint it to the second she had her first child. She became a stay at home mother. Her husband, a seemingly nice guy at the beginning almost out of nowhere became extremely strict with what he expected of her, and very uncooperative in general. She would spend all hours of the day, cleaning, cooking and taking care of the children, adding the fact that after every kid was born, she was pregnant again not two months later. Alan watched as every conversation they had, if he could even reach her, would be about nothing but her children, housework, or her husband. Alan eventually became extremely worried and tried to talk to her about it, but she vehemently shut him down every time, claiming that this was her purpose and what she was born to do. The distance between them only kept growing, and eventually she told him that he should see her when he has children of his own, only that way would he understand. The last he knew of her was through a social media post showing her family of eight kids with another one on the way, before she disappeared off the internet too.

So yeah he couldn't really talk to her either.

He certainly wasn't talking to Amphi. His one and only ex he only dated for a month before she cheated on him.

Alan was bad with people. He had always thought of himself as an introvert but… he has seen how he gets when anyone gives him any amount of attention, getting way too excited, info dumping excessively and subsequently annoying people into cutting him off. He didn't know why he did it every time. Its not like anyone had ever asked for it.

"Everything has to go back to normal between you and me. Back to the random blocks of text at 3 PM."

The thought crossed his mind as quickly as a bullet. She was there. She kept constantly reminding him that she was there. Loudly begging for or outright demanding his attention. With such a clear and strange interest in him that it felt nearly overwhelming. She was hard to keep up with in a lot of ways. Sometimes making him painfully aware of how old he was getting. She could keep up a call all night if she wanted too, but he has not been able to pull that off since university. She had all these plans and all these friends she wanted to introduce him too. Furthermore, she had such peculiar taste in music he couldn't relate to at all. She was fun. Alan wasn't fun.

But Robin listened to him no matter how long he went on for. Usually responding with a tangent of her own. She would ask him all these questions about himself, and would seemingly relish in his answers, even if it was just telling her that his favorite color was green, but he didn't think it looked good on him so he didn't wear it.

It was six pm. She should be out of training by now. He could…

No.

She would decide when she wanted to talk to him. She probably called him up when none of her friends were available. It was best to do things at her pace. He stood up. He figured he'd give those videos he had done another rewatch. Maybe there would be some mistake for him to fix.

Is what he thought he would do, until he saw a notification come up on his phone. At that moment, all his blood ran cold.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin wondered if it was creepy, to listen to multiple hour long recordings of your new friend every day. It had turned into a habit. While washing dishes, at the gym, during runs, sometimes even in the shower, Alan's videos were background noise for her to listen to. In some ways she was proud of herself. She had changed from content farm fake Reddit story slop to something… educational? Yeah, educational was the word. They were full of facts and recommended readings, about hockey or sports in general. She couldn't imagine that Alan liked kids, but she did believe he would make a good teacher. She felt bad for being so adamant about personal coaching when he basically gave a free course right there. Apparently much more on his Patreon but again, she felt it would be a little creepy to treat your friend like a service. 

She didn't tell him that she watched them. Well “watched” is a bit of an exaggeration. She used them more like an audiobook. He'd be super indignant about it, she just knows it. She occasionally tried to actually sit down and give the videos her full attention, these attempts usually didn't succeed, but it was the thought that counts. Today was one of those times, she sat on in front of the washing machine at the buildings' laundry mat, hunched over, phone in her hands. She struggled not to look at the clothes spinning instead. 

“…and this is a great example of how the technique fell out of favor over the years,” Alan’s voice said, accompanied by grainy footage of a game from what looked like the late 80s. “The toe drag spin pass was effective when players relied more heavily on close quarters play, but it became less common as the pace of the game accelerated and defensive systems evolved to counter it.”

Robin tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she watched the footage. The player executed a slick toe drag into a quick spin, flicking the puck behind them to a teammate who scored with a clean wrist shot.

“While it’s rarely seen in today’s game, it still has potential situational value, particularly against aggressive forechecking systems. However, it requires precise timing and exceptional puck control, making it a risky choice for most players.”

Robin paused the video, the image freezing on the split second where the player’s stick curled perfectly around the puck mid spin.

The hum of the cheap white lights and the sound of the washing machines spinning could be heard even through her earbuds, but otherwise, it was quiet.

“Risky my ass.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin skated sharply, her lungs burning and her head pounding. It was tied 2-2, and the opposing team, the Degasi reapers, was relentless.

It hadn’t helped that this was Coach Maida's last team. She never specified how or why she stopped being their trainer but Robin could guess by her attitude that it wasn’t by choice. Her constant yelling from the side of the rink was more distracting than anything else.

She skated down the ice, weaving between two defenders with a quick deke, the puck glued to her stick. Her teammate was open on the far side, but the defense was closing in fast, cutting off the passing lane.

Robin’s instincts screamed to dish the puck wide and avoid the risk, but then she saw it, the tiniest gap, the perfect setup. Her pulse spiked.

Now or never.

She toe dragged the puck to her right, baiting the closest defender into lunging forward. Then, in one fluid motion, she spun on her skates, dragging the puck with her and flicking it behind her back.

For a split second, everything slowed. The puck sailed through the tiny gap between the defenders, landing squarely on her teammates stick. Miraculously, without hesitation, she fired a shot, and the red light blazed as the puck hit the back of the net.

The arena erupted, the goal horn blasting through the chaos. Robin let out a sharp laugh of disbelief, throwing her arms in the air as the teammate skated toward her, shouting, “What the hell was that?!”

Robin grinned, pulling her into a quick hug. “A little something I picked up,” she said breathlessly, still riding on adrenaline.

Her teammates surrounded her, slapping her helmet and shouting their excitement. As they headed to the bench, Coach Maida grabbed her by the arm.

“Ayou, where did that come from?!” She demanded, with that typical tone indistinguishable from anger. Robin wasn't put off by it, she could win them the olympics and shed still be mad. So Robin shrugged, unable to hide her grin. “Saw it in an old video. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She exited the stadium hopping up and down like a little girl. Her team had gone out for drinks, even Coach Maida was tagging along. Robin, oddly enough decided to turn down the offer. It didn't come without much concern and suspicion from the rest of the team. The worst accusation of the bunch was that she had gotten pregnant. She couldn't quite get them to believe that she was just tired and didn't feel up to going out that night, mostly because that wasn't true at all. It was embarrassing, really. Even trying to picture herself asking. Because what explanation could she possibly give for seeking him out instead. 

She still paced anxiously around the entrance of the stadium instead of just hurrying up and calling him already. She could just leave him a text, but she really wanted to call him. Actually she almost exclusively called him, even when the exchange could be done with three or four texts. It wasn't… that weird, was it? She had never really liked texting. Yeah… Yes that was it.

Another part of her was genuinely giddy. She was already imagining the video he would make about this in her head.

He would finally make a video about her again, right? She used an outdated move to win in an impossible situation, that had to warrant a video… right?

She softly slapped herself in the face, that was a dumb thing to think about. Sam's accusations of her being on an ego trip coming back quickly. She shut her eyes hard and shook her head. Why did she care so much…? She shook her head one more time and opened her eyes, staring up at the sky. Just-… just talk to him. That's all you really need. She told herself.

It was a little easier to go through with it after that. She finally pressed the call button and waited with bated breath for a painfully short time while the phone rang without anyone picking up. And when she saw the “calling” message be replaced with a timer she compulsively started talking.

“Hey! Al! You saw the game tonight?! It was crazy, right?! Notice anything different?! What did you think?!”

“Robin, Robin. Its late, why are you calling me?” She could go as far as to say she even identified a little exasperation in his flat tone. 

Her jarring smile immediately dropped, and she struggled with what to say for a couple of seconds. “I… wanted to… Ummm” she got stuck.

“Are you alright? Are you drunk? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

Her heart sank and sped up at the same time. “Ah- No! No. I'm sober I promise, I just…” she ran her hand through her hair and pulled in a significant lungful of air, “How do you feel about going out for Chinese food and talking about the game?”

It was his turn for him to get stuck. “Chinese food?” 

“Or whatever you want. You can pick the place.” She shrugged even though he couldn't see it.

“It's too late for this.” He almost spat. Robins eyebrows shot up.  There was something about the delivery of the words that she had only heard once from him before.

“Are you ok?” Maybe it wasn't the most reasonable thing to ask right away, but she was too confused to try to build up to the question.

“That's none of your business.” He was jarringly quick to respond. Robin would have stumbled back if she was with him. She blinked a couple of times before readjusting the phone in her ear.

“So you… aren't ok?”

“Why do you care? What is your obsession with being in my ear all the time?” 

That irked her, but she was still under the impression that something was off. “Alan did something happen? You sound-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

She flinched. “Wow wow wow, don't you get like that!”

“Don't tell me how to talk. I'm not your little pet that you play with when you get bored. And you're an idiot for thinking I would just crawl to you whenever you want me to.” His tone was completely flat. To a downright creepy degree. 

“Hey, don't you fucking call me that! What is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with you people?. You're all annoying and idiotic and can't handle it when I do anything.”

“Alan I don't understand you! What is any of this about?!”

“It's about you leaving me alone. I don't want to be told what to do. I'm tired of trying to be civil to everyone and it never working to get you or anyone off my back.”

“Why are you suddenly mad at me?!”

“I'm not angry. You're being dramatic.”

And that finally struck a real nerve. What right did he of all people have to call her that. “Oh really?! I'm just some stupid dramatic bitch to you?!”

“Here we go again.”

“Again?! Well maybe you should consider not treating me like a piece shit so often.”

“You're being irrational.”

“Yeah sure was being irrational at that interview wasn't I?!

“Oh my god you're bringing that up again?”

“And so what if I am?! It's not like you took it down you ass!”

“Listen I don't have time for this. Leave me alone.” He didn't leave a second before hanging up and leaving her with the rebuttal halfway up her throat.

Robin was just left there. Her breath fogging up in the cold air. It took everything in her to not throw her phone at the ground. Now what? She couldn't just go back to her team without being questioned. 

It was a victory night. She was supposed to be happy.

Before she could process it, she was on her motorcycle. Helmet on, jacket tight, but she was not going home. She didn't know where she was going.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn't quite mad enough to ride with her helmet off. But the thought of it is making her wish she was. The sounds were muffled through the thick material and the visor made the passing light less bright. She could recall being fifteen. She remembered a lot of things about that time but one of them was impulsively stealing her fathers bike to spite him. It hadn't been her first time on one, but it was the first time she went full speed. Rammed through every stop sign and red light she could, barely dodging cars, with not a single ounce of care for her own safety. Her family sort of knew this already but she didn't think they truly understood the full extent of her feelings when that happened. She was ready to die that night. Not trying to. Not hoping to. But fully accepting that she could. But the main thing she remembers is the intensity of it all. The absolute blur of the world around her as she zoomed with reckless abandon. The cacophony of lights and sounds and the wind on her face that drowned out her thoughts. 

Actually, thinking about it made her calm down. It usually did. She doesn't know if she could ever be that mad again. Which was frustrating in the strangest of ways. Her teammates would actually say she was similar to coach Maida, in the way that they were both so quick to anger. And she agreed. Because anger was appealing, it made things a little more… quiet in a way. She reveled in being able to zero in on one singular looping thought that would piss her off in perpetuity. Because fuck when else was her train of thought that clear? And she doesn't remember her mind more quiet than that night. Deep down she wished she could re live it. Definitely won't try to pull anything like that off again. She was lucky not to get arrested then, and she was not about to try her luck like that again. 

Her grip on the handlebars was tight, her knuckles white as she weaved through traffic. Every sharp turn, every acceleration was a jolt to her system, forcing her focus back to the road and away from her own head. Hockey was similar in a lot of ways. She got angry playing too. It was nice, to have such a clear opponent. One singular enemy that you just had to defeat. Wished she could compartmentalize her life like that.

A few hours passed quickly for her. Her only real indicator of time passing was the fact that she was calming down enough to regret wasting all that gas. Robin was familiar with most of the city, but realized she had never been in the area that she was currently at. Bland, residential area, nothing but apartment buildings as far as the eye could see. The vague outline of the moon shined through the heavy smog, and as usual no stars accompanied it. She figured it couldn't be all that late despite how empty the street was if-

Oh, you have to be kidding me.

His snow white ass was identifiable from a kilometer away. Robin was so focused on how much the universe conspired to shove this man in her face that she didn't realize she had slowed down significantly and was slowly approaching the scene. Because he wasn't alone. Opposite to Alan was a slightly shorter blonde woman, talking unintelligibly but quite loudly. The clearer the picture became, the more she could see that the woman was actually approaching him quickly, and he kept uncomfortably shifting away. She pieced two and two together and realized that he was being yelled at.

Hah, served him right.

Eventually she got close enough that she couldn't keep looking without full on stopping, but she fully took the opportunity to get a good look at his face and… 

He was crying. Not bawling or anything, just clearly holding back tears even when his expression was completely blank, which was the most she had ever seen him emote.

The fact that she had managed to keep the pace of the motorcycle just fast enough to get him away quickly but slow enough for him to keep up as she took his wrist in her hand and dragged him when she only processed that she was doing it when they were halfway across the block was a testament to her skill as a biker. She could feel him fighting her desperately, as well as hear the woman behind them screaming. They had turned the corner and she finally stopped. He was still fighting for his life to get away from her but he wasn't strong at all.

“Let go of-“

“Get on!”

“No!”

“You want to get away from her or not?!”

“I'm not going with you!”

“Listen Silvester I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now! So get on before I regret this!”

She could see his soul leaving his body when he heard his own last name but just as quickly saw a million different conclusions cross his mind until his eyes settled on his own reflection on the visor of her helmet.

“Robin?!” He somehow sounded even more horrified than when he thought he was getting kidnapped.

“Who the fuck else cares about you enough to do this?! Now are we getting out of here or not?!”

His eyes quickly scanned her and the motorcycle. “I don't have a helmet-“ He heard the loud screams of the woman getting progressively closer. Robin only tilted her head in the direction of the noise, he turned back to face her, his face contorted into a look of scared indecision that couldn't have looked more unnatural on him if it tried. “Why are you doing this?” Came out more breath than sentence.

“You think I know?!” She let got of his wrist and gripped the handlebars. Alan shut his eyes hard and merely vibrated with some emotion Robin couldn't hope to comprehend before his long leg easily got over the bike, he landed behind her. The moment his arms went around her waist was painful. The sheer awkwardness, the stiffness in both of their bodies and the split second spent realizing that this was the most they've ever touched. Any possible sentimentality or overstimulation in the action was lost when Alan had to grip her for dear life when she took off, and he had to press his face to what he could reach of her shoulder so that the wind wouldn't hurt his face. By then Alan already regretted it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin fully expected not to see him come back, when he left her in the alley, saying he'd be back in a moment, that he needed to get something. The only thing on the block aside from her apartment building was a liquor store. What he he expected her to believe? That he was just casually going to get a bottle of wine at one am when he had no idea where he even was?

It was actually a bottle of straight rum. Her eyes were wide when she saw him stomp back into the alley while tearing the lid off with his keys, and quickly collapsing against the wall and without so much as inhaling first, taking a swig.

“Wow” Was all that came out of her. He didn't even bother looking at her, he just wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and seethed for a long moment before sliding down the wall until he sat on the dirty ground, the neck of the bottle still firmly in his hand.

“I thought you didn't like to drink.” Robins tone came out more accusatory than surprised, even though she definitely was. Alan only scoffed and shook his head. “I never said that. I told you to stop putting words in my mouth.” Another swig, this one longer.

She didn't want to look at him so she leaned back on the same wall, looking at nothing but the dirty brick across from her. Alan didn't have the willpower to do anything but stare at his knees, every few seconds chuffing when he realized he was holding his breath for whatever reason. He felt so winded but so fidgety at the same time. He kept shutting his eyes with all of his strength hoping that would somehow clear his head, but that was as hopeless as everything else. The rational part of him was still there, telling him that this was a terrible idea, that he didn't know where the hell Robin had taken them, that his phones' battery was dying, and he had no way home. Which was frustrating, he took another sip from the bottle hoping it would kick in to turn it off soon.

“She probably thinks I'm dead now.” He still spoke into the stillness. His phone was turned off, because he knew it was blowing up with messages and calls. The guilt of knowing that gnawed at him regardless of his anger.

Robins head was starting to hurt so she undid her ponytail, a mess of curls falling on her shoulders and sliding down her back.“So. That your girlfriend or what?” She sounded particularly bitter when the words left her mouth. Alan blinked a couple of times like he couldn't believe he just heard that. “That was my mother.” He said dumbfounded as he turned to look up at her by his right.

Robins face scrunched, and she looked away, embarrassment tainting her cheeks, not that he could tell. “Well I didn't get a good look at her.”

He sighed and looked back down. He tried to picture how this whole scenario would end, and he couldn't come up with anything. He just glared at the label on the bottle, looking at the small letters that stated forty percent alcohol, he didn't feel nearly drunk enough for that to be true. That's what he gets for buying the cheapest bottle in the store.

“So do you plan on explaining yourself or am I just here to babysit your bender?” Robin spoke up after minutes of silence. A part of Alan wanted to bite back. To answer with some sharp stupid quip, but he couldn't come up with anything clever. And when he looked at her, pretty hair down framing her face in a way that only alcohol would let him appreciate. He realized he didn't want to be mad at her. “I'm… sorry, for how I talked to you earlier. It wasn't- it wasn't your fault I just…”

“You sounded pretty sick of me.” She crossed her arms, frowning in a way that was more hurt than angry. He looked at the plain brick wall ahead of them. “I was sick of everything.”

“And you just took it out on me?”

“Yes.”

She huffed indignantly, looking for dirt under her nails before sighing and shoving her hands into her pockets. His voice came out more softly this time. “So what was your mom angry about?” Alan shivered, not from the cold. “It's stupid.”

“I don't care, I wanna hear it.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I goddamn feel like it, now spill.”

He pressed his knees closer to his chest. He wanted to come up with some type of lie. But he knew it would never be convincing no matter how hard he tried. Robin looked down at him for a long time, her hands fidgeting with something she found in her pocket. Eventually, she thought he just wouldn't speak, until she heard the slightest whisper. “I turned my phone tracking off.”

She blinked a few times, not sure she got that right. “What?”

“I turned to stupid tracker off! The app was taking up space on my phone, so I deleted it! It doesn't matter! I'm only ever in the same three places!” He suddenly blew up, making Robin flinch. She furrowed her eyebrows, the edge of her mouth quirking downwards in a gesture of almost revulsion. “Your mom tracks you?”

“Yes! There I said it! I'm a fucking loser, now you know.” He snapped again, Robin could now see a bright flush on his exceedingly pale cheeks. He took another violent swig of the bottle. Already having made it through a fourth of its contents. 

“Ok god if you're gonna be like that then don't mind if I do.” She pulled a joint out of her jacket pocket and a lighter from her pants. It took her a second to realize Alan was staring at her like she was the weird one. “You're not getting any.” She said flatly as she lit it up and placed it in her mouth.

“You just… have that on you?”

“No, I just found it in my pocket.”

“That's illegal???”

“Yeah yeah so is tax evasion, and you've seen what the team sponsors get away with.” She took a long drag, and blew the smoke away from him. Alan simply shook his head, this day had been weird enough for him to keep caring. They just sat there, indulging in their respective vices and Alan as he leaned his head against the rough wall could quickly feel the pesky voices in his head get quieter.

“She's always like this…”

“Your mom?” Robin's gaze was slightly dazed now.

“She can't just… let go, even for a second, it's insufferable.”

“What, like she goes through your drawers?” She meant it as an exaggeration.

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air.

She took a step back, raising an eyebrow. “Deadass?”

Alan ran a hand down his face, which was now noticeably warmer. “Yes.”

“Whaaaaat? Do you still live with her?”

“No but it still feels like I do! She shows up every other fucking day and just complains and complains about some dumb crap I don't care about!” He buried his face in his hands.

“Oh is she the type that secretly hates your guts?”

“N-no… No. It's not… She just never likes anything I ever do no matter what it is, and she can't live if she doesn't let me know it every second of every day and I just…”

“You should tell her to fuck off.”

“I don't want her to fuck off!” He yelled almost hysterically, holding his head in his hands. Robin, if she had more of her inhibitions would have realized that the best thing to do would be not to pry and to take the bottle away from him. But that was not the state she was in. “Why the hell not?”

“Because who else do I have!” He fully yelled at her now.”I have no friends! Nobody likes me! My dad disappeared into the fucking eather!”

“Ooooh I feel you there man.” She took another drag. Alan just squinted at her “What? You've got a father so radio silent he may as well be dead?” He sneered.

“Oh I have a dad alright. He just only talks to his “smart” children.”

“That's not the same.”

“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were at the suffering olympics.”

Alan just sighed and drank again, each time it burned less and less. “Whatever! The point is that my mother is the only one that is ever going to care about me, so I can't just ditch her!”

“Motherfucker does she even really like you?”

“I don't know…” He closed his eyes and griped the bottle hard with both hands as a pointless attempt at steadying himself. “I don't want to find out…”

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

“It's not about what I deserve, it's about what I have.”

“Well bitch what about me?! What am I doing here?!”

He raised a hand dismissively. “You'll get bored of me.”

“Oh my god, why did no one tell me we were at a pick me contest? If you're just waiting for me to leave then I can just go right now.”

“I didn't tell you to leave.” His voice cracked, but he still didn't look at her. 

“Well maybe I should. You've done nothing but push me off the entire time we've been friends.”

“And you'll still be here.” He said that sounding mostly resigned, but there was an undeniable tinge of relief in his words. “Here you are, babysitting a grown man having a tantrum in an alley.” He laughed. An actual, hysterical, exhausted laugh. “Haaaaaaa I don't know if I'm your dog or your hamster.”

“The actual fuck are you talking about right now?”

“I'm your little project aren't I?”

She was too relaxed to really be offended. The smoke was starting to blend in with her condensed breath in the cold air. “You overestimate how good of a person I am. I know where to find an incel to rehabilitate if I was really that nice.”

“Well what other explanation do I have for you being so obsessed with me?”

She sighed. She briefly wondered if that liquor store sold chips or something, she was getting hungry. “Well when you've got your hypothesis, share with the class because I don't know why I'm still here either.” She squinted at the wall, arms crossing once again. “And what the hell is even your point? Am I going to ghost you or are you stuck with me? You can't just have both.”

“What?”

“You're contradicting yourself.”

“No I'm not.” He pouted.

“Wow you really need to put that bottle down.”

Alan wanted to elaborate. To explain his though process. Because it made sense to in his head. She would stay but she wasn't really there. She'd treat him like a friend but only because she'd keep him in his place so that she'd never have to look at him too closely. Yeah, he was more of a hamster. Kept somewhere small to look cute. And when the kid grew up and got bored of it, it would still be in that cage in their room. Not wanting him but still not letting go. But the only thing that came out of his drunken mouth was “What if you're just another mom.”

It took her a long time to even process that he said anything. And when the gears finally turned she only said. “Is that your kink?”

He made a disgusted face and hugged his legs, burying his face in his knees. Nothing coherent followed after that. Individual sentences slurred together into general ideas and what they were even talking about was completely random. But… after a while he realized he was making her laugh. That at some point she had sat down beside him, and that he hadn't been able to hold back from touching her hair and she let him. Their voices became softer, and she smiled as they spoked. She made fun of his red face, and he turned right back on her about her red eyes. Their conjoined smell was only outmatched by that of the dumpster not far from them, which they had to hide behind when a cop car drove past. Not that they would have actually gone unnoticed with how much she was giggling.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing he noticed were his feet dangling off at the edge of the surface he was laying on. The rest came overly, heavily, excessively slowly. The pounding headache was the second thing he was able to perceive. It made him close his eyes and sink into the pillow further. That's when he registered it, this pillow, it was not as soft as his own, in fact it was quite rigid. He tried to wrap himself tighter in the blankets, but they lacked the noticeable weight of his own special blanket at home. Then the smell. Pungent and strange, unlike anything he'd ever have at his hou-…

He shot up, making the headache much worse. The light of the open window glared in his eyes, and the loud sounds of the outside told him that they were on a second floor at most. The room was small and cluttered. What took up the most space aside from the clothes on the floor was the large bookshelf that stood right beside the bed.

Huh. She never told him she liked to read.

Despite the mental fog he was experiencing, the events of the night before were mostly clear. At some point he had gotten too drunk to so much as walk properly, and the next thing he remembers is being… carried on piggyback on a rusty elevator and then passing out. The shame wasn't evading him by any means. He felt like an idiot and a loser for getting carried away so easily and forcing Robin to deal with him. But also he felt intensely guilty for being in what surely must be her home. He felt around and could sense that his phone and wallet were still in his pockets. He noticed that his jacket was still on too.

Suddenly a churn in his stomach caught his attention, and just as quickly he felt something rise up his throat. He immediately jumped up out of the bed and stumbled out of the room, luckily the open bathroom was right across the short hallway, he lunged at the toilet just in time to puke out just about everything he'd ever eaten.

It was a long time before he could get up again, the headache worse than ever before. And now a compounding dizziness added itself to the roster as he flushed the toilet and limped out of the bathroom. The hallway took only two meters to lead him to the living room. A small space with a humble kitchen in the top left corner, and close by near the opposing wall was a raggedy green couch and a small TV. The rest of the space was taken up by plants. A lot of them looked to be the same kind. What plant was th- Oh. He remembered her smoking last night, and the smell was light but still present in the space.

He walked to the couch, and he did not have to get too close before he saw Robin sprawled over, nearly falling off, but still sound asleep, her hand on the coffee table, close to a fully emptied but still dirty bowl with remnants of some type of vibrant yellow substance. Her mouth was open and she was drooling. Her hair was a mess all around her.

She looked funny. He might even go as far as to say she was… cute. That was something. When had he ever thought of anyone as cute? Was it disrespectful? It took him a full minute to realize he was staring, and he quickly backed off, looking over at the door. He should probably leave, right? It was shady enough to be in a young woman's apartment when she was unconscious. She’d understand why he felt compelled to leave.

That was his plan until he felt his stomach complaint again and vile sliding up his throat, and once again he was launching himself to the bathroom. He kneeled by the open toilet, gaging multiple times, too afraid to get up as every two seconds he needed to expel again. Mostly water came out this time. This took far longer than he realized.

“Need me to hold your hair, princess?”

He heard a rough, airy voice that ran a shiver down his spine before looking up and behind him to see Robin smiling down at him lazily while casually scratching her armpit. Only then did he process that she had changed from the night before, now wearing a dusty green tank top and black sports shorts.

He wanted to die that very second. Even he could feel his face well up in despair. Robin's smirk turned to something more sympathetic. She knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his back. She didn't say anything for a moment, only rubbed it slowly.

And it did something to him.

Without meaning to, he felt himself absolutely melt into a pile of mush against the warm feeling. For just a second, the headache faded away, and he became enraptured in the gentle touch. How long had it been since somebody touched him like that? It was distressing to realize he didn't remember.

He unwillingly closed his eyes and sighed. And he nearly exploded when Robin took a hold of his face. He was slow to realize it was to make him look at her. He opened his eyes again and was met with her coy expression, and he was struck by the awkward thought that now more than cute she was… kind of handsome, oddly enough.

“You really drank yourself to shit, man.”

He shut his eyes hard again in embarrassment, all other sensations now competing with the sudden heat in his face for his attention.

“I'm sorry…”

They stayed like that for a long moment before another one of his senses perked up. He instinctively sniffed the air close to her and then drew back in disgust. “Ugh. You smell awful.”

Robin blinked dumbfounded a couple of times before bursting into laughter, regrettably letting go of him. The laughing fit lasted an uncomfortably long time for him, before she playfully punched him in the shoulder. “So do you!”

He grumbled, sat his ass on the floor and leaned his back against the wall with his head against the toilet. The only reason he didn't wish the earth would swallow him whole was because Robin began rubbing his arm. 

“Anything hurt?” She asked gently. He reached out for some toilet paper to clean his mouth before answering. “My head…”

“Ok. I'll have to make a quick run to the pharmacy to get you some Ibuprofen and maybe like a Gatorade or something.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to do anything, I'll head home and take care of it there.” 

She only barked out a laugh. “Like that? No sir. You're not going anywhere, at least until you stop vomiting.”

He let out a frustrated choked noise and tried to get up. She did help him. And suddenly he was leaning on her. Robin was surprisingly steady for someone shorter than him. Her arm looped under his, her hand gripping his side to keep him from toppling over. He hated that he needed the help, but his legs wobbled like they weren’t even his, and the pounding in his head made every step feel like he was walking on nails.

In a moment, he was plopped into the couch like he was a rag thrown into a hanger. He was able to sit properly now. Hands gripping his knees as if that would keep him upright. Robin leaned down and propped herself on the backrest of the couch behind him. She stared at him for a minute, he noted uncomfortably, but didn’t dare say anything.

“You're one hell of a drinker, huh?” She asked, not completely serious but quite a bit less friendly than before.

“I'm not an alcoholic.” He was quick to defend.

“I never said you were. It just surprised me.”

“You're not great yourself.” He mumbled defensively, gesturing at the plants. “I wouldn't be risking my health if I was an athlete.”

She smirked, “Oh you sweet puppy, you have no idea what the average player is putting in their body every other week. You'll hear them talk a big game about dieting, and then you will never see anyone do more ketamine in your life!”

“I know that. I told you I've met players. And don't think I haven't been forced to attend a party or two.”

She rested her head on her hand. “And did you have fun?”

“No.” He stated flatly. “I will be happy never attending another party or going into another bar again.”

“If you don't go to bars or parties, where did you learn to drink so hard?”

He stayed quiet, looking away from her and down to his knees. Robin clocked it immediately.

“Wow, that's depressing.” She mused casually.

“Fuck off.” he grumbled, gripping his head, which was pounding again.

“Alright alright, no need to get aggressive.” She got up and started looking around for her things.

“Sorry.” He let out. She only nodded. After around two minutes, she finally found her jacket with her phone and wallet in it. “Hey, it's one in the afternoon, you want me to also pick us up some food? I'll get you like some soup or something.”

He felt himself become flush again. “You don't have to do that…”

“We can split the cost fifty fifty if you've got some cash.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before he sighed hard, letting his entire body sag against the couch. “So am I just having breakfast at your house? Is that it?” 

She smirked again, holding back a laugh. “Well, you should have thought of that before getting wasted in an alleyway with me.”

He gave up. He pulled out his wallets and handed her fifteen. He laid on the couch while she got ready to leave, he could hear her, getting distracted on her phone, complaining out loud about where she left her bra, and even turning on her music to take a shower.  He listened in a lot more intently than what was probably normal, but it helped him distract himself from the pain and nausea.

After thirty minutes, Robin was ready to go and at the door. “I'll be back in a minute, don't puke on anything.” She got out the door and was starting to close it. But before she could, he shakily sat up and called out to her. “Wait Robin!”

She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

He breathed in to gather courage. “Thank you. For last night. For now. Thanks a lot.”

She smiled tenderly. “No problem Al.”

“I promise that I'll make an effort to contact you more and spend more time together.”

Robin blinked in slight surprise, her cheeks warm. She looked down at her feet. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to.” 

“But I do want to. You're basically my best friend.”

Her heart, more than skipping a beat, punched a hole through her chest, popping more than a few blood vessels. She could only manage a shaky smile and a meaningless response before she shut the door. She leaned against it, her hand on her chest, feeling her suddenly spiked pulse.

Without meaning to, an almost manic smile took over her face, it took everything in her power not to dissolve into a fit of giggles, and jump around like a middle schooler. Instead, she happily trotted her way to the stairs.

Alan plopped back down onto the couch. A large part of him was considering falling asleep again. But when he tried, the headache was too distracting to go anywhere. So like the only thing he really knew how to do, he thought.

Best friend.

He really just said that. He didn't quite… regret it, per se. Because at this point, logically it was true. The thing is that it was true purely by process of elimination. She was his best friend because let's be honest, she was his only friend. 

“Who the fuck else cares about you enough to do this?”

Even she was aware of it, and seemingly resigned to the fact. The whole ordeal of the night before seemed like a massive hassle to her, up until the point where she was literally on drugs. Like she did everything out of obligation. He didn't know why he was acting like he didn't know this. She had told him so before. That she stuck around because she knew he had no one else. 

What surprised Alan was that this didn't upset him much.

Because, who else would ever say something like that to his face? Who would just admit to seeing him as a charity case? That was something unique to Robin. Something that made her so… easy to be with. She was easy to read, half the time he didn't even have to read at all, he just had to listen.

And a tiny, weak, exhausted and lonely part of him thought that might be a fair trade off. Because he didn't quite believe she liked him, not fully at least. But it was different with her still, it didn't feel like she just put up with him the way Ryley and Amphi did. She asked questions, she sought him out. She went to save him, even when he had pushed her away. What he had concluded last night but couldn't articulate still felt true.

He was her hamster. Her little pet that she would still play with even if it bit her. And Alan was being forced to realize that maybe he didn't have as much self respect as he thought he did. Because when he seriously asked himself, he realized he didn't really mind being a hamster. Being held safe in his little plastic cage, well fed, with plenty of bedding to dig into, to make himself at home.

[lavelled]

Prince Henry Mountbatten-Windsor is not really doing a passable imitation of nobility on his twitter playstation website in creating heated internet fights. He’s still aboard his manic homophobic transphobic slur train. From Marlon Wayans to Kanye West. Any NAACP Poet Laureate Award for Megsy and Harley this week? No? That’s unfortunate.

I read Invictus Games news on the slightly unwelcome, noble veneered, woodchuck couple being in Canada. The totally married, pantomime, babymaking, horseshoe, horseshit, horse-drawn, whatever couple. I’m sorry Canada. Talented musical artists, at least.

The loved-up dodobirds haven’t been too socially active. To not be photographed huddled together for months, to never be shown pushing double strollers, to be exposed like a coat of rodent paint in Netflix fraud and photoshopped holiday cards — only to climb the social ladder right into a shallow puddle of mediocrity.

Après-ski parkas and wardrobe were mentioned on our of high-society characters. Oh goody. Let’s talk superficial glamour on a walking maternity dress as the paperwork husband talks a deep sense of girl ownership, rape, and patrimony. Typical alpine bucolic fairytale.

I like the athlete who asked you, “Where’s your crown?”

Duke and Duchess drew on their high birth and clout to return to a Canadian V-restaurant during the Invictus Games. They share an all too common vocabulary. One of dignity and refinement between a woman who photographed knives and the man she knew was the September 11 jailer. Then, you, an actual Prince, lending your decorum and sensitivities, highlighted your side job as social media manager of a deal or no deal wellness blogger, plastering 2 million fake accounts to her Instagram page that she will probably never be liberated enough in which to gain access to, and, deep inside, you know nobody gives a shit about; not about the photos, the videos, the clothes, the one-sided lordly comments, or the Tom-inspired coupledom that has lost all its meaning. You videobombing your illiterate Zee-list wage earner windowsill nonwife whom you don’t live with on an Instagram account you alone control in between growling and belching Nazi ideology does little to ensure an esteemed family line.

Must be entertaining for you, though.

In the press, the place where I’m inclined to find writerly solace, contentment, murmurs, even guttural hints — and I read everything from People Magazine to Politico — there is a pattern to your nonwife’s funniest news. You know, that stuff about biological kids that I don’t have. Either above or below her photo, with or without you, is the sequence of news stories about dog breeders, brain surgery, bedbugs, a woman born with two vaginas, scores, chores, stores, bath, Bath, bathed-in, swallowed by a humpback whale, oral hygiene, furred cats, depraved couple, and nouveau decorative arts. Double meaning, but also vital to my own existence and I love it.

Is that the legacy you intended for your family?

Your typewriting is urinating the admission that yeah you’re fake married to get back at a movie star whom you refer to as pomodoro. I haven’t pointed out much that you didn’t author yourself in a fuck-it casual voice. Online, in the world of chatty billboards, you studiously ink out the lack of intimacy, the mutual hatred, the rented uterus, so, pray tell, why did I have to be alone for roughly these twenty years with nothing and nobody but a competing unhelpful society of tiered noncode while you talked about hacking me and then actually hacked me, on one flash drive, on one account, only to prolong my misery at 52 when you’d end up a single estranged father in England anyway.

To you, I’d tippity tap tap that I was in a distorting telescope of time-hell and you let me fester in a life that didn’t move forward, or at all.

Why are you fluently vowing retribution when you infringed? If there aren’t repercussions for the guilty party, then why the hell didn’t you allude to the unlawfulness ten years ago so I’d have a chance, being that fertility has an age? The emotional balance of what happened four decades ago is just old-fashioned scholarly cruelty that you could’ve stopped after national disasters or natural aging that right now is only germane to a contractual street fight. What a life.

Stooping to the lowest depths as mascot in the Twitter laboratory was your racist meltdown on Kanye’s page that only affirmed the obvious: you’re a whimpering bookstore fiend spoiled enabled placated brat at 40, left alone at your cybernetics household operations, with what, I’m guessing, is a network of disheartened plodding employees, working remotely, manipulating the view and subscriber count, where you meddle in American politics, lawfare, sports, the arts, and the country’s social upheaval. To showcase proxies. To get back at an actor. Who had the handwritten letters way before you.

Human culture can exist without the self-serving internet mousetrap meltdowns. It’s him. It’s Harry. It’s always Harry.

There is so much misinformation, inconsistent messaging, enemy noncode interference in political actions right now that it’s Red, White, Blue Land of what the fuck.

I read that Trump and Company want to deputize IRS agents to go through financial documents that could be used to locate the whereabouts of undocumented immigrants and potentially help in arrests of those who are, most likely, guilty of non-violent offenses like theft or shoplifting. Why not give authentic Sheriff badges to Eagle scouts.

The team seems bristly perturbed that I wrote of the cities and states of certain raids. What to do. It depends. I could end this blog right now or not feel imitated by the underqualified saboteurs hellbent on renaming geography, upending Greenlandic society, eliminating pennies, firing independent nonpartisan Fincrime watchdog groups, dismantling USAID, giving governmental and payment access to unelected interlopers, ending travel funds for service members seeking reproductive care, suggesting judiciary impeachment for contrarian beliefs, strongly advising federal buyout offers, blocking the Associated Press, solidifying a takeover of the Kennedy Center and the Opera House and their ongoing phasing out of the Department of Education.

There are national anti-Trump-Musk rallies on snowy corners, town halls and Zoom calls with ACLU members, clergy members, Dem lawmakers, state representatives, constituents, students, children and dogs — all with clever signage. I think people wanted less government waste and spending and immigration reform, but a flurry of executive orders for current-day America is illegal and corrupt. Claw back with lawsuits.

When it’s about the war in Ukraine or Gaza and Israel, Trump and Team spout doomsday prophecies. I think fear-mongering politicians should stay out of the agreement that allows the continued releasing of hostages, according to the terms of the ceasefire. Which seems to be working.

There might be a large-scale California ICE raid. From LA to farming communities. Government officials want more bodies. I shouldn’t mention that people worried of deportation should check the website, CalMatters dot org, a highly readable website with a bilingual option, every day for information. Interesting that California was made a statewide sanctuary on October 5, 2017.

I also find it interesting that the California wildfires began burning on January 7 in the Palisades, which sounds phonetically like palace aides.

K

Deleted Instagram.

Her new Insta page is solely operated by Prince Harry.

Duchess Sparkles cannot read, write, internet, or speak freely per royal contract. This is her referencing Cinderella, knowing whom braided a young girl. Harry re-uploaded it in Danish to translate to:  I agree with that...

The dumbfounded TIG blog about Jamaica trip; red rape beer, sea creature cruises, tree chopping:

Bereft, middle-fingered, whiskered Teen Harry with a Joan Joker movie poster and eunuch skeleton:

Parental regal legacy intact:

Spotify podcast was a lying wunderkind platform in which to harass a middle-aged girl and her pen pal that earned Meghan awards and a recent distinction:

Netflix Cooking Show will consist of the Windsor fraud and clichéd clicking formula for profit:

What looks like a paler hue of the humanitarian role models courtesy of Harry; they don’t live together in California:

Family images that trended on a website the husband solely controls and talked to me on, while he knew I had absolutely nothing:

It might be code for sucky fucky or I'm trying to be a regal role model:

On her knees for children.

Also, did you read about this Scottish actor's horrific nightmare over the weekend: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce3lq3lkkn5o

I don't get this M3GAN film back-and-forth, though one-sided, feud. Smart tactic illustrating what your Windsor family did decades ago:

Good on you for deleting a few pedo Charlotte tweets, missed one:

Kanye didn’t write any of these:

After forty years, Harry’s taking the Nathan & Celica convos as well as you’d expect:

It Hits Different when he admits wrongdoing:

Google what actor Marlon Wayans has unconditionally, supportively said about his son; Harry wrote this tweet only a few days ago:

Written near the Duke & Duchess 2018 wedding; have I mentioned that Soulja Boy’s name is DeAndre:

From the old Twitter layout, I recognized his Nazi shoutout and his staged tabloid photo — with an emphasis on misinterpretation, quietly making me believe, for years, that Tom had sequestered.

Prince Harry holds stage business paperwork that has caused harm:

[sunnybeewriting]

peachy keen. Part Two

Wow! Thank you all so, so much for all the likes and comments on last chapter, I was blown away! Every time I get a notification that someone liked or commented on something I’ve written I get giddy, so thank you! And I read everyone's comments and they were all so sweet!

Someone actually posted fanart of peachy keen!! I nearly died when I saw it, so thank you again to @desertrose244 for making that, it’s wonderful. And I’m sorry this chapter took so long, classes got me all kinds of messed up. So without further wait, peachy keen. Part Two!

peachy keen. Part One

WORDS: 9,000

WARNINGS: Adult themes and language

“Bitch, you better wake the fuck up right now.”

A hand whacks you on the back of your head firmly and you are jerked right out of your hazy sleep state. You let out an embarrassing snort as your head lurches up from its position of laying on your arms crossed over the table.

Your eyes squint tiredly against the bright light of the room. For a brief moment, your fuzzy mind struggles to remember where you are, until you realize that you’re still sitting in the break room.

“The time?” you slur out as you straighten your back in the chair. You lean backward, arms stretching out above your head, and strong relief fills you as several pops resound in different places. You groan loudly at the feeling, and blood rushes back into your body parts as you shift them. Hunching over in a chair for a half hour to try and get as much rest as you could had not been a good idea.

The sharp scent of something chemical makes you wrinkle your nose, and you look over to your left to see where the odor is coming from.

Margot sits beside you, humming softly and painting her nails a pretty light pink color. The little bottle of nail polish she is using cost her a lot of money to buy from the supply shop, given that nail polish was a rare find in Bridgehead. Granted, it wasn’t like there were a lot of military personnel or scientists who were fist-fighting over nail polish, but still. Margot had insisted it was completely worth the price, although you had definitely seen her lip wobble when she had looked at the dent in her wallet.

Margot had lasted almost two months before whining about missing her pretty nails, and the next day she caved and forked over the big bucks to get the tiny little bottle. Now, she likes to joke that it’s her most prized position (it wasn’t really a joke).

You yawn, then press your lips together as your right hand rubs at your eyes to help wake yourself up.

“What’s the time, Margot? Why did you even wake me up?” your tone is almost a whine as you question your friend, ready to throw a fit if she says she only woke you up because she was bored.

Luckily for Margot’s physical safety, she has a fairly good excuse.

“We’ve got that meeting with the new team leader, Amanda What-the-fuck-ever, in ten minutes.” Margot rolls her eyes as she carefully paints a strip of polish on her left index finger, tongue sticking out in concentration.

You snort softly at Margot’s clear disrespect toward a woman neither of you had even met, but you couldn’t really blame her. Your own feelings about this mystery lady were mixed as well.

Two months into being in Bridgehead, Amanda Hall was assigned as the field team leader of the new Avatar Program by the RDA. Her job is essentially to connect the members of the program to the important people in the company. She is the one to handle any concerns within the group, any issues with military personnel, any special reports about discoveries on Pandora, shit like that.

She also apparently did data work, collected samples, and would go out into the field with your team whenever the RDA finally chose for that to happen.

All that would be fine and dandy if it weren’t for the gossip from the other Avatar team, who told Margot that this lady was essentially here to report all matters of the program and its members to the RDA. Every slip-up, every boo-boo, every time someone sneezed out of turn, she would be mentioning it to the same higher-ups who would be deciding whether to disband the program or not.

This was very unpleasant news to all of you, given that your entire purpose on Pandora is to be an Avatar. The program was already in a precarious position, being that it was still in the testing stages. If it got disbanded because of whatever Miss Hall said, you’d all be completely fucked.

So yeah, none of you were exactly fond of her, too worried that she might very well ruin your lives.

Margot blows on her finished nail, holding it up closer to her face for careful inspection. Once she’s satisfied, she carefully screws the lid of the nail polish shut and gently places it into the right pocket of her light blue windbreaker.

She rises from her seat to check her reflection in a small, circular mirror on the grey wall of the break room, fixing her hair and smoothing down her clothes.

You watch her, not even bothering to do anything to fix up your own appearance. You’re certain your hair is slightly mussed and your clothes are wrinkled, but you’re beyond too tired to really give a shit.

You hadn’t slept well the past two days, too concerned about the rumors of Miss Hall. You have no idea what you would even do if the program went tits up, no idea what would happen to you or your friends.

Would you be shipped back to Earth, as if you were an unwanted toy the RDA no longer wanted to play with? Would you be forced to remain in miserable Bridgehead, doing nothing but look at samples for the rest of your life? As a xenobotanist who thrives on nature and color and unique things, that would be one of the worst things you could ever think of happening to you.

All the terrifying possibilities swirled around your head, digging so deeply into your brain that you were beginning to dream about it.

So yeah, you were stressed and unable to sleep, which made you exhausted and anxious. These past few days had been nothing but a vicious circle of misery for you.

Margot’s hands pause as they fluff up her hair, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You stare back at her, too spent to even muster up a fake smile.

She turns away from her reflection, walking over to your slouched form and taking your hands in hers. You stare up at her with watery eyes, and she squeezes your hands tightly and says,

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to be so worried about it, it’ll be okay. The RDA spent billions on our Avatars, they’re not going to throw them away so easily, alright?”

You nod shakily, deep down knowing that she was probably right. Still, it was hard to shake the fear from your heart, the cruel little whispers of ‘but what if?’ refusing to let go.

It wouldn’t even be failing to reach a lifelong goal that would bother you so much, wouldn’t even be the years of school and training and sleepless nights that would all have been for nothing if the program was discontinued.

It would be failing to keep the promise you had made to your mother as she lay on her death bed that would be the worst of it.

Oh, your sweet, vicious mother. Once so kind and caring toward you as a child, she turned spiteful once her mind and body began to weaken. Bitterness and regret seeped into her heart and turned it as dead and cold as her husband, and the name-calling, the pinching, and the ugly insults began by the time she was confined to her hospital bed.

For five years you stuck by her side through it all, through the malice and the failed treatments and deterioration. You stayed by her side even when your aunt on your father’s side offered to take you away, because she was your mother, and you would love her always. Even on the bad days when she couldn’t even remember who you were, you stayed with her.

Through all the nastiness and difficulty, your mother’s true person would shine through sometimes, like when she told you about your father, when she made you promise to follow your heart and never let anyone or anything get in the way of your dreams. Those were the moments you stayed for.

And so, even the mere thought of letting her or yourself down, of failing to keep your promise, scared you to death.  

You shake your head, pushing the ugly thoughts back into your mind so you could focus on kind, lovely Margot.

It’ll be okay. You’ll see.

You swallow thickly, squeezing Margot’s hand tightly in your own.

“I know, Margot, I’m okay. I just need a little time to adjust, that’s all,” you smile shakily at her, and she looks at you, eyebrows furrowing with concern even as she smiles back.

“Right. Right, honey,” she tears her eyes away from you to glance at the clock, eyes widening when she sees the time, “Oh shit, sugar! We gotta go!”

Margot pulls you up from your chair by the hands she was still holding, and you sway dizzily as blood rushes back into your head. You barely have time to pull on the tennis shoes you had kicked off underneath the table before she’s tugging on your hand and you’re out the door.

“Margot, slow down!” you laugh quietly as you almost trip over the shoes not quite pulled over your feet correctly, and it feels so, so good to laugh again, even if it is just slightly. You hadn’t realized it’s been days since you felt genuinely well.  

Margot glances back at you, grins, and picks up her pace. Before you know it, you’ve reached the conference room, and you drop Margot’s hand and kneel to fix your shoes properly. Then you finally find the motivation to put your hair into a ponytail, straighten your clothes, and take a few breaths to calm your nerves.

Once you are ready you nod at Margot, and she nods back before opening the glass door to the room.

Inside is a long, metal table surrounded by ten chairs, along with an enormous whiteboard, several holotablets, and other various fancy-looing equipment.

David is already sitting in a chair closest to the door, posture straight as he reads from a tablet. He looks up eagerly when he hears the door open, and his overwhelmingly saccharine sweet smile drops fast from his lips when he sees that it’s just you and Margot. He scowls deeply, rolls his eyes, and points to his wristwatch like the little prick he is.

You resist the urge to childish stick your tongue out at him, but only just.

Probably got here an hour early, the teacher’s pet. What a weirdo.

You and Margot reluctantly take seats across from him at the table. It had been very tempting to sit all the way in the back of the room, as far away from David as possible, but that definitely wouldn’t have been seen as very professional by your new team leader. And, god help you, you did want to make a good first impression.

Hopefully that doesn’t make me as much of an ass-kisser as David.

You turn to look at him just as he takes a pocket mirror out of his pants, checks his reflection, and then positions himself in his chair so he’s the first one Miss Hall will see when she walks into the room.

Yeah, nope. Jesus Christ, David.

Barely a minute passes before Emma and James walk just in time, giggling quietly and blushing. They take a seat across from one another, James sitting by you and Emma sitting by David. They grin across the table, clearly amused about some private joke only they know.

It’s so cute, but it also kind of makes me want to puke.

You tear your eyes away from them in hopes that no longer looking at such sweet affection will help your stomach settle. They were awfully charming, but also gross if you looked at them too long.

You know, I wonder if employee relations are something Miss Hall will report to the higher-ups?

You turn to tell Emma and James they should probably keep their affections discreet whilst in the company of Miss Hall from now on. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the woman in question finally walks through the door.

The first thing you notice about her is her hair, bright red and pinned up into a smooth bun. She’s a tall, slender, strict-looking woman with young features, and while she does look stern, she also has a small smile on her lips as she looks around the table and introduces herself,

“Hello, everyone. My name is Amanda Hall, I’m the new Avatar Program team leader, which means that I will be overseeing any concerns you have and guiding you through our travels in Pandora. From here on out, if you need something or would like to speak to the RDA, you will do so through me and me alone. Do you have any questions?”

Your lips thin but you shake your head, and all members of your group rise from their seats to shake her hand in greeting, all smiling as pleasantly as they can. You notice that David is the first in line to introduce himself, and he eagerly shakes her hand and lists off all of his titles when he tells her his name.

Ew.

You’re worried your small smile might look more like a grimace than anything else when it’s your turn to greet her, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she slips her cool, smooth hand into yours. She looks at you, and her smile doesn’t seem to reach her eyes as she says,

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor…?”

Miss Hall trails off and you tell her your name. She nods her head in understanding and then shakes your hand in three perfunctory pumps before releasing you.

The next two hour is almost mind-numbing as Miss Hall talks about her new role in the science division, what she expects from you, all other mundane things that almost bore you to tears. Just as sound becomes muted in your ears and your vision begins to blur as you drone out, Miss Hall mentions something that quickly snaps your attention back to her.

“…and so, your group will be cleared for field-work within the next week or so, and you’ll be able to begin your jobs at Bridgehead in earnest, as well as-”

You gasp, “They’re finally letting us out?! In the next week?”

Miss Hall looks startled as she says, “Oh, well, yes, in the next week or so. Given that it’s been almost two months since you arrived, it’s about time you are able to do what you came here to.”

You slump back into your seat, mouth open in shock and joy. Your thoughts run wild as you realize that in a week's time, you will be in the wilds of Pandora, actually able to touch and observe and collect alien plant life. You’ve been waiting for this exact moment for years.

I can’t fucking wait!

Miss Hall smiles slightly when she sees your stunned face and then goes on to talk about her education. You don’t even bother trying to listen, simply too busy thinking to pay attention. By the time the meeting is over, you mindless shake her hand again and walk out the door with Emma, James, and Margot.

David had neglected to leave with you, staying behind to spend a few more minutes speaking with Miss Hall.

Better her than us. He’s probably sucking up for a promotion or some shit.

As you all wander back to the break room in a daze, you realize that you aren’t the only one stunned by Miss Hall’s announcement. All three of your friends look pale and glassy-eyed, and poor Emma is destroying her fingernails as she picks at them while biting her lip anxiously.

Since Pandora is a dream come true for you, it’s always been difficult for you to remember that it’s not a safe place, not an easy walk in the park, and that you could die out there. You just get so lost in your own head, so busy thinking about all the scientific possibilities that you forget the danger that may be lurking. Your one-track mind is a dangerous flaw of yours, and you hope it doesn’t get you killed someday.

Once you all reach the room and sit down, everyone has some color back in their cheeks, and James has grabbed one of Emma’s hands to stop her from hurting herself. You sit in silence for a moment before Margot breaks it,  

“I still don’t like her,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest as she practically pouts in her chair.

You roll your eyes, having seen that coming from a mile away. Ah, classic Margot. Once she made up her mind about someone or something, it was incredibly difficult to get her to change her opinion.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Emma says quietly. Over the past month since your group really came together, Emma had opened up more and more until she was able to hold full conversations without freezing. You had once thought that her dreary attitude was because she was an unhappy person, but it turns out she’s just painfully shy.

James certainly helped with bringing her out of her shell; his caring attitude and cheerfulness are good for her.

You take a deep breath and agree with Emma, surprising yourself when you say the words aloud,

“You know, I don’t think having her as a team leader will be as bad as I thought. I think she’ll help our team more than hurt it, but we should still be careful with what we say and do around her for the next few months, just in case.”

Margot sighs but nods, uncrossing her arms from her chest.

“Yeah, okay, that’s probably for the best. I guess she didn’t seem that bad. She had pretty hair,” she mumbles the last part, and to your utter bewilderment, Margot tucks her hair behind her ear and actually blushes.

You gawk at her; it was incredibly rare for Margot to turn red, and it usually only happened when she was extremely angry or embarrassed. She hadn’t even blushed when she got super drunk at the bar downtown, took off her top, and climbed up on a table to dance around. Well, she tried to dance, but the only thing she succeeded in doing was falling off the table and throwing food and drinks everywhere.

You had tried to get her top back on and get her off the table but were fairly drunk yourself, and you failed terribly. When she went flying off the table, she kneed you right in the face, and you had to walk around with a black eye for two weeks.

Yeah, defiantly not either of our best moments.

But even when you had told her about it the next morning, hungover and miserable, she still hadn’t tinged red even a little bit at the fact that she’d shown her tits to an entire bar full of people. She had just waved her hand indifferently and asked if you got any good pictures.

So, it was defiantly bizarre to see her blush now for seemingly no reason.

Huh.

Margot catches you gaping at her and blushes even more before clearing her throat and turning her attention on you. She smirks mercilessly, eyes gleaming, and says,

“You know, I was surprised you even gave her your real name, I was half expecting you to tell her to call you Peach.”

Now it’s your turn to burn scarlet, and you shrink back into your seat with a flustered, “Margot!”

She laughs at your squeaky reaction before saying, “What? I’m just saying, Colonel Quaritch is always calling you that, and I’ve never heard you tell him to stop, soooo.” She wiggles her eyebrows and jams a sharp elbow into your ribs.

You wince, one hand reaching up to grasp where she hit you as you say, “Uh, yeah, I’m not going to Quaritch of all people what he can and cannot say, and you wouldn’t either. He could call me much worse names, so I’ll take Peach any day, thank you.”

“And I can’t believe you’re still going on about this!” you scoff, annoyance tinging your voice.

“Oh, come on! You guys spend so much time together-”

“Yeah, for lessons. During which he knocks me around for a few hours, so yeah, I can certainly say that we are, at best, acquaintances.”

“But you have such good chemistry-”

“Ha! Margot, you and David have more chemistry than Quaritch and I.”

Margot blanches and leans away from you, disgusted at the thought of such a thing, “I can’t believe you would even say something so horrid!”

“Well, it’s true!”

Margot lunges from her chair, jabbing an accusing finger in your face as you lean back, “Lies! I know for sure that you want to do the hanky-panky with him!”

You shake your head, amusement bubbling up in your gut and making you laugh as you say, “Hanky-panky? Are you fucking eighty years old, what’s the matter with you?”

To both your utter delight and disgust, Margot rolls her hips in a way she must think is provocative, but it mostly looks like something in her body is broken and she’s struggling to stand upright.

You burst out laughing and shout, “Jesus Christ Margot, what the hell are you doing?”

“Come on, I know this what you want to do with Quaritch-”

“What, roll my hips in a way that makes it seem like my spine is shattered to get him to sleep with me?”

Margot falters and stops wiggling around to say, “Is that really what I look like?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, okay, fine!”

She sits back in her chair with a pout but leans forward, and her green eyes bore into yours, “But my point still stands. You know, you’re starting to be like those little ducklings you had talked about seeing him with that first time, always following him around.”

You groan, “Ugh, Margot. You know what, I’m not even going to worry about it anymore. If you want to be lost in your delusions, you do that. I’m going to go to bed because I actually have something important to do in the morning.”

You pat your thighs and stand from your chair as Margot boos and shouts, “You grandma!”

“Goodnight, Margot,” you say, still absolutely tickled at Margot’s ability to bullshit even herself. You pat her on the shoulder as you walk past her to the door, and she smacks you on the ass and says, “Night, bitch.”

You barely remember to say goodnight to Emma and James, whom you had honestly forgotten were still even in the room.

They jumped slightly when you called out to them, having seemingly forgotten you and Margot’s presence as well, even with the way you had been so loud.

You shake your head fondly as they guiltily say goodnight, and you’re out the door.

You spend the journey back to your quarters thinking about the past month you’ve spent with Quaritch.

Your relationship with him, if you can even call it that, has grown from distant to something more of an…understanding. A mutually beneficial, symbiotic agreement. He’s still a massive prick, always poking and jabbing nastily, always quick to make fun.

He's still likely to smother you in your sleep if you do or say something bad enough, but he isn’t as terrifying as he was when you first met, that’s for certain.

You’re not sure if it’s simply the result of spending four hours every damn day for a whole month in his company, or if he chose to be less frightening on purpose. Either way, that all-consuming terror you felt in the first week of meeting him has faded into faint uneasiness.

And it was hard to stay so scared of him all the time when he did almost, dare you think it, nice things.

Like that one time, just a week ago, when he had been teaching you different ways to hold your blade so you could better attack someone instead of just defending yourself.

Quaritch had stood close to you, and even through the stifling, humid heat of Pandora, you could feel the heat coming off him. His bare arm brushed against yours gently as he moved from your right side to stand in front of you, and he lifted the little knife he had given you three weeks ago.

As he had warned you to, you’d kept good care of; you didn’t want to give Quaritch any other reason to dislike you, and losing the knife he entrusted into your care would worsen his feelings toward you for sure.

So, you kept it on you whenever you were in your Avatar form, nice and safe tucked away in your right short pocket. Sometimes, whenever you were distracted, you’d find yourself stroking over the M.Q engraved on the handle, thumb roving over the groves. It was sort of comforting, in a way you couldn’t describe. You probably just liked the texture.

“Alrigh’, Peach. Your defense with this puny little thing has been adequate at best, but it's good ‘nough for now. So, we’ll be moving on toward something a little bit more fun,” he grinned unpleasantly, head tilting to the side, “your offense.”

You swallowed uneasily but nodded.

Can’t be any worse than before, right? You had naively thought.

You were really, really fucking wrong.

Five minutes in, you figured out that Quaritch is a fucking monster at defense. You’d known this to some degree, just because this was Quaritch and he’s good at everything when it comes to combat, but trying to even touch this guy with your knife was utterly impossible.

No matter how fast your feet moved, no matter how much your muscles burned, no matter how hard you tried, Quaritch is bigger and better than you’ll ever be. You could see it in the way he moved, the ease of which he ducked and weaved around your inexperienced blade. He had a smug look on his face and his lips were curled up in amusement as he played around with you like a cat with a mouse.

Someday, you might get jealous of his skill, of his ferocity in combat. Now, though, watching him just made you feel in awe.

Embarrassingly, you can’t help but think he’s stunning when he moves like that. Maybe in the future you’ll actually get to see him against a real opponent, a real warrior who knows what they’re doing. You have no doubt that Quaritch would give them hell.

You leapt at him one more time in a last-ditch attempt to cut him, and he surprised you by not immediately dodging as he had done the past few minutes. Instead, he simply stays still as you run at him.

You tried to slow down once you realized he wasn’t going to move, but it was too late. He stepped slightly toward you and stopped your body’s momentum by splaying a huge hand across your upper chest and pushing you back with barely any effort at all.

You went flying backward, ass landing hard on the ground with a grunt.

Ow!

You groaned as you struggled to stand back up and Quaritch offered no helping hand, not that you had expected him to. Instead, he crossed his bulging arms across his chest, smirked, and said, “Well. You weren’t as pathetic at offense as I thought you’d be.”

You scoffed, eventually able to stand back up and dust off the gravel that clung to the fabric that covered your ass, “I was ridiculous, I didn’t even manage to make contact.”

“Well, that’s just ‘cause you ain’t pissed enough. You gotta think of me as some sorta son of a bitch you despise, someone you hate. Really let it provoke you, feel the hate in your blood and let it guide you until you kill em’. Then you’ll be golden.”

You considered his words thoughtfully, wondering who the hell you could ever hate so much you could brutally kill them.

Quaritch sighed when he saw the questioning look on your face, one large blue hand resting on the thick belt wrapped around his slender waist. He reached up to rub at his jawline as he rolled his eyes at your naivety, and then he said, “Look, Peach, there’s gotta be someone you don’t like-”

“David!” you blurt out, remembering how irritated he’d made you the past week with his stupid little comments and snotty attitude, “I really, really fucking don’t like David. If you think I’m a priss, you’d hate David if you ever met him.”

“…Alright, David it is, then. Come on, get ready to come at me again, and this time don’t be such a pussy about it. Remember what I taught you and think about whatever it is about this poor David bastard you hate so much.” Quaritch spreads his legs into a wider stance, long arms deceptively relaxed at his sides as he waited for you to come at him.

“The guy’s a douchebag, always rambling on about how he’s better than everyone else. He’s a real stuffy, know-it-all science puke. You know, your favorite type of person.”

You flashed him a sharp-toothed grin and he smirked back, wide golden eyes grudgingly amused.

“He once told me that it would be highly unlikely that you would be able to teach me anything. I really wasn’t sure if it was a dig at your teaching skills or my intelligence. Probably both, knowing him.”

Quaritch’s eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened as he said, “…Interesting. Might have to meet this David guy some time.”

You grinned at the thought of massive, terrifying Quaritch looming over a tiny, frightened David, grinning down at him evilly. That might finally be enough to deflate David’s ego, though it was David. Who knows, he’d probably be delusional enough to think Quaritch was talking to him out of respect or some shit.

I would literally fucking pay to see that happen. Quaritch would eat him alive.

“Alright, I’m ready, let’s go again.”

You spent the next thirty minutes pathetically struggling to hit him, and you didn’t make contact even once. You came close a few times, but you never actually touched the bastard.

And thinking about how utterly irritating David was didn’t even help! As much as you disliked the guy, you really couldn’t develop enough anger to want to kill him, even if it wasn’t real.

Maybe throttle him or duct tape his mouth shut, but to kill? That wasn’t you; you just didn’t have that sort of determination or ferocity in your heart. Maybe one day, but certainly not now.

It seems Quaritch could see that because he sneered at you before sighing and coming to a stop.

“Jesus Christ, alright, this isn’t working. We gotta figure somethin’ out, ‘cause at this rate you’re just going to hurt yourself by flailin’ ‘round like that. Goddamn.”

You stopped when he did, panting, face flushed and sweaty. You winced at his words but admit defeat by nodding your head in agreement.

Quaritch propped both his hands on his hips as he considered you for a moment, eyes flicking over your body. He checked the watch on his left wrist and then said,

“Well, Peach, we only gotta few minutes left and I’m fuckin’ hungry, so let’s call it a day. I’ll see ya nice and early morning tomorrow on time, you hear me?” He gave you a look, and you internally rolled your eyes even as you nodded understandingly.

It was one time you’d been five minutes late to meeting up with him, weeks ago, and he’d never let you forget it. Tom had woken up late, so you’d had to wait to link into your Avatar. You were only a few minutes late, but Quaritch had been a grumpy little bastard about it the entire morning.  

He was fucking relentless, and now every single time at the end of the lesson, he always has to say some little thing about it, because it’s Quaritch. Why ever waste an opportunity to be a dick?

“See you tomorrow, sir.”

Quaritch gave you one last look, golden eyes stern, before turning around to head back toward the gate of the courtyard.

You watched as he went, hands distractedly reaching for the sheath of your knife so you could safely put it away.

You gazed at the thin, green fabric of his tank top that stretched taught over his broad shoulders and muscled back, eyes lowering down to take in his slender waist wrapped in his belt.

And then your eyes went lower, and you made a daring observation that shocked your world, an observation you would have never dared to even think a mere few weeks ago.

Miles Quaritch has a fantastic ass.

You blushed strongly even as your head tilted to the side, eyes locked on his camo-covered ass as he practically struts his way to the gate. Your mouth parted gently before you bit softly on your bottom lip.

I’m mean, really, he’s goddamn packing it away down there. Is there any part of him that isn’t fucking attract- mother fucker!

You yelped as stinging pain ripped through your senses, concentrated strongly on the palm of your right hand. You dropped your knife on instinct, looking down hurriedly to see what the hell was hurting so bad.

You hissed lightly, shocked, when you saw the angry, bright red cut on the upper part of your blue palm, already weeping blood profusely. Your tail flicked irritably behind you, ears lowering on the sides of your head.

No fucking way, you absolute dumbass.

You’d been so distracted with checking out Quaritch’s ass that you had accidentally cut your palm open with your own knife while trying to sheath it.

“Mother fucker!” The words burst out of your mouth before you could stop them, tingling pain finally pushing its way through your surprised brain and throbbing from your palm all the way up your arm.

Blood slowly dripped on the concrete of the courtyard as you grasped your right wrist with your left hand, gasping softly.

I have to get to the medical center, Jesus Christ, why the hell does it hurt so much!?

You’d just started taking steps toward the gate, eyes locked on your bleeding palm when you heard stomping footsteps approaching fast. Before you knew it, camo-covered legs were in your peripheral vision.  

You looked up at Quaritch’s irritated and baffled face, his eyebrows furrowed as he snagged your wrist and yanked your arm up to his face to closer inspect the bleeding wound on your hand.

“Jesus Christ, Peach, the fuck did you do? I left you alone for two seconds!”  

“I-I know, I know! I was just trying to put it back into its sheath and-and I must have not been paying attention and it-” you stuttered, mind franticly trying to come up with an excuse to say instead of why you’d been so distracted.

There was no fucking way you were ever going to tell Quaritch you’d actually injured yourself because you were preoccupied with checking out his ass. Your pride and dignity would never make a recovery.

He interrupted you before you could finish, gripping your wrist tightly as he hissed, “Yeah, I can see that. Fucking hell, I should just start callin’ you clumsy instead of Peach. Let’s go.”

Quaritch lowered your arm from his face, scowling deeply, his own ears flicking angrily.

He began walking with your wrist still in his grasp. He tugged on your arm when you remained rooted to the ground, and you stumbled after him.

“U-Uh, hey, where are we going?”

“To the medical center, you idiot. It doesn’t look too deep but you’re going to need to get it cleaned. Hurry the fuck up, let’s go.”

He marched you out of the courtyard, through the bustling area of soldiers and across Bridgehead, all the while still holding onto you.

Every now and then he’d shorten his long, angry stride to take a look at your hand, and every time he did, the scowl on his face grew. His sharp teeth were clenched angrily as you walked on.

You didn’t say a word, too embarrassed and in pain, even as you struggled to keep up with his aggressive pace. You winced every time a gust of air blew across your open wound and made it sting even more. Every time you winced, Quaritch’s grip tightened.

Eventually you made it to the med center, and Quaritch waltzed through the doors with zero concern or hesitation. He tugged you upfront to stand beside him and finally released his grip on your wrist.

Ten or so tiny little humans wearing exo-masks and white sanitary gear bustled around the near entrance of the center, but none took any notice of the two giant blue Avatars standing in front of them, too busy with their own tasks.

When none of them looked up from their work after two seconds, Quaritch lost his minuscule amount of patience and barked,  

“Hey!”

You jumped slightly, not expecting Quaritch to shout, and every person in the immediate vicinity froze, heads snapping up and around to you and Quaritch. His deep voice almost echoed in the ensuing silence as any other sound stopped.

You wanted to shrink away from their stares, to just go back to your quarters and take care of your wound by yourself. Quaritch must have sensed your uneasiness and desire to bolt, because he firmly placed one large hand on your bare back, fingers splaying out across your sensitive skin.

You jumped again at the unexpected feeling of his skin against yours and tensed, mouth parting to gasp before you choked it down.

Quaritch’s hand was so big that his thumb brushed up under the loose fabric of the training crop top you wore, and goosebumps erupted across your body as you involuntarily shivered at the feeling.

You could feel the pads of his fingers against your skin, and it felt so strange (good).

“If any of you busy fuckers wouldn’t mind takin' a moment to check out this girl here, I would greatly appreciate it.” Quaritch’s deep voice boomed across the silent room, clearly irritated and sarcastic.

He sneered at them all, and then lifted an eyebrow when everyone remained frozen, “Well?”

One brave little human finally managed to unstick their feet from the floor to approach you and Quaritch slowly, as if you were both wild animals that might attack her at any moment.

They come close enough that you can tell it was a woman, even through all the bright white gear she wore. She was short, stout, and stern-looking, with grey hair pulled up into a tight bun.

She tilted her head up to meet Quaritch’s fierce yellow gaze firmly, and you almost raised your eyebrows in surprise when she refused to look away from his angry glare, her back straight and gloved hands folded in front of her.

Jesus Christ, this lady has some serious balls, you had thought incredulously.

“What’s the problem, sir?” she asked, voice coming out polite but stiff.

Quaritch had seemed startled for about half a second, then he narrowed his eyes once more and said, “This idiot sliced her hand open.”

He nudged you strongly with the hand on your back and you took a stumbling step forward, looking down at her small face and sheepishly raising your right bloody hand. It had stopped bleeding so much a few minutes before you had entered the center, but it was still a gross-looking mess.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry, I did do that,” you said sheepishly, apologetic.

The lady didn’t seem remotely bothered by the blood, though, and she simply sighed before guiding you over to a nearby cot with a white privacy sheet away from the entrance of the center.

You walked over willingly, careful not to jostle your hand. The stinging had faded slightly now that you were inside, but it was far from numb, and you didn’t want to make it hurt even more.

As you walked over to the tent, Quaritch left your side without your notice and wandered somewhere out of your viewpoint without a word.

You turned around to say something to him, and only then did you even notice he was gone.

Oh, you had thought, he could have at least said goodbye.  

The lady introduced herself as Doctor Miriam as she moved around your cot to grab various medical supplies. She asked you some questions, like how and when you injured yourself, and with what.

You sheepishly told her that you had been distracted when you had cut yourself, and your hand drifted down to your pocket to grab your knife to show it to her.

Your heart dropped to your shoes when you were met with nothing, and you tensed in alarm before immediately slouching when you realized you had dropped it in the courtyard.

You’d have to go back for it once this was done, but you’d much prefer that than it being lost like you had thought it was when you hadn’t felt it in your pants. Quaritch would have killed you.

All in all, the process for healing your hand was a simple one; Doctor Miriam cleaned your palm, removed the gravel, smeared a clear gel on it, and wrapped the upper part of your hand with a simple white bandage.

“Luckily,” Doctor Miriam explained, “the cut is shallow enough that it didn’t sever any of the nerves in your hand. It’ll be healed by tonight because of the medicinal properties in that healing gel, but be careful not to squeeze anything too tight. You don’t even have to wear the bandage for more than a few hours.”

You thanked her profusely and apologized again for causing her trouble, and she simply waved her hand, patted you on the back firmly, and guided you back toward the entrance of the center.

You stepped outside back into the light of Pandora, so ready to go back to the Avatar center to take a shower and get back into your own body after such a tiresome ordeal.

You’d barely taken a few steps before Quaritch rounded the corner of the building, stepping into your viewpoint.

You jerked to a stop, wondering what the hell he was still doing here.

He headed toward the entrance of the med center in long strides but stopped when he saw you standing outside. He changed his course of direction to you and reached you in a scant few seconds.

“I thought you were gone?” you asked, bandaged hand raising to shield your eyes from the bright light as you looked up at him.

Quaritch grabbed your wrist once more to examine the handiwork of Doctor Miriam. Apparently satisfied, he dropped your arm a moment later, and you let it go limply back to your side, still waiting for an answer.

“Noticed you left my knife in the courtyard, and I don’t like leaving my shit where others can take it,” he said, and lifted up your knife to your view.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just about to go back for it!” you exclaimed, hand reaching out to grab it from his own.

Quaritch pulled his hand back before you could take it, scoffing loudly before he asked, “What, you think you can just leave my shit laying around and then just take it back?”

He took a step closer to you, face lowering down to yours to look you firmly in the eye. He glowered at you, yellow eyes burning as he said, “Don’t do it again.”

You wanted to scoff at him and say, ‘Well, I was a little distracted by all the blood pouring from my hand!’, but you bit your tongue. It would just result in an argument you would never win.

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

He glared at you one last time before dropping the knife into your hand. You took it gratefully, and as you tucked it into the pocket of your pants, you noticed that he had cleaned it of your blood. 

“And the next time you handle that knife, Peach, do your best not to slice open your own hand. Jesus, you gotta be the clumsiest brainiac I’ve ever met.”

You winced, suddenly feeling a hot flash of embarrassment all over again at the thought of your accident. You shuffled awkwardly and cleared your throat before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, and you said, “Thanks for your help, sir. I really appreciate it.”

Quaritch sneered down at you, ears flicking as he sniffed derisively and said, “You’re damn right you’re thankful,” and then he stormed away as quickly as he had arrived.

You had watched him go, and it wasn’t until later that night as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling that you realized how surprised you had been that Quaritch had even bothered to take you to the center.

For all the cut had hurt like a bitch, it was far more superficial than life-threatening. Quaritch had been able to tell that the moment he had looked it at, but he still stayed with you to take you to the center. And he hadn’t even complained about it once while you were walking, which was a goddamn miracle for Quaritch.

And there was that other time a few days into the first week of lessons when you had neglected to eat much of breakfast, nor much of dinner the night before. While that would have been fine to do in your human form, your Avatar needs a massive amount of nutrients and calories to survive. Since you were working yourself to the bone every morning for the past week, it was a very dumb move to forget to eat two meals in a row.

You had gone out one morning to meet Quaritch and had felt fine through his Na’vi lesson, and it was only during your own combat session that you began to weaken.

You were thirty minutes in, clumsily dodging Quaritch’s hits when black spots began to cover your eyes. You stumbled to a stop, panting and dizzy, and your limbs felt much heavier than before. Your arms lowered from where they had been positioned defensively in front of you as you struggled to stay upright, swaying unsteadily on your feet.

Quaritch paused in his own movement, his fists lowering down in confusion as his eyes flickered over your face before he said, “You good, Peach? You’re lookin’ a lil’ green for such a blue girl-woah!”

Your vision faded, sounds muting out as you felt your body slacken. Just as you began to tilt backward, Quaritch lunged forward and caught your limp form before you could hit the ground.

It took a moment to come back to reality, to claw your way out of the darkness as the harsh buzzing in your ears lessened. You slowly moved your fingers and legs as feeling came back to them, and you realized distantly that your upper body was laying down across something firm and covered in soft fabric.

 A deep voice began to filter into your ears as you kept your eyes closed, still not fully conscious.

“Hey, Peach? Peach, you wuss, you went and passed out on me, wake up.”

You groaned as a hand began to lightly smack your right cheek, slowly blinking open your eyes.

For a moment, the only thing you could see was fuzzy blue, until Quaritch’s upper body and face became clearer. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, lips curled in light amusement, but you felt more than saw his shoulders become less ridged when you met his eyes.

You swallowed, mouth dry, and whispered, “Oh. Did I pass out?”

Quaritch barked out a ridiculing laugh and said, “Yeah, sweetheart, you sure did.”

“Oh,” you said again, still stunned. It wasn’t the first time you’d fainted, but the empty and dizzy feeling never got easier.

You swallowed again and realized just how thirsty you were. Your stomach growled furiously, and all of a sudden you were starving.

Didn’t even think about eating, you realized, beyond disappointed in yourself for not taking proper care of your Avatar. 

You moved your shoulders to start lifting yourself up from the ground, before you realized with disbelief and humiliation that you weren’t laying on the hard ground, but rather your upper body was mostly in Quaritch’s fucking lap.

No wonder I had been able to smell him so well, I’m practically on top the poor guy!

You blinked and lifted your head up, your face coming closer to Quaritch’s own, close enough that you could see the small flecks of brilliant green in his bright yellow eyes. More embarrassment flashed through you even as you subtly inhaled his intoxicating scent, made more overwhelming and mind-numbing by your proximity to him.

You wanted to scream and bury your face in your hands. Not only had you passed out like an absolute pussy for such a stupid reason, but Quaritch had actually had to catch you like you were some prissy damsel in distress. Honestly you were surprised he had even bothered to prevent you from falling, let alone bothered enough to cradle you in his lap until you had awoken.

Probably just pitied the stupid, clumsy girl who couldn’t even take care of herself, you thought bitterly, lips thinning.

You sniffed quietly as you met his eyes, your own golden eyes flicking between his as you said, slightly breathlessly, “Thanks for catching me.”

He looked back down at you blankly, eyebrows furrowing for just a moment and ears flicking back on the sides of his head before he scoffed and said, “Fuck, Peach, I just didn’t want you to bust your head and get blood all over my courtyard is all.”

You saw his muscled biceps suddenly flex with tension and realized you had about two seconds to get yourself off his lap before he tossed you away, curious generosity swiftly revoked.  

You tensed your core to sit upright quickly, and once you no longer felt dizzy, you shifted your hands to support yourself. Your right one went to press a palm down firmly on the ground, and once you began to lift yourself up all the way, your left hand moved to place itself better. That would have been fine if Quaritch hadn’t still been sitting there, waiting for you to move so he could get up.

Your hand landed just on the right side of his crotch, pinky finger brushing gently against something really fucking big by the cold zipper of his pants.

Oh.

Your stomach exploded with butterflies before sinking violently like a stone in dread as you realized exactly who you were practically fondling.  

You gasped loudly, head whipping downward in wide-eyed horror to confirm your terrified thoughts, and, yep, that was your hand full on Colonel Quaritch’s lap, just an inch away from earning you a horrifying phone call from the human resource department. If Quaritch didn’t rip your arms off and strangle you first, that is.

You jerked your hand away as fast you could, face and ears already burning. You franticly started lifting yourself away so you can give him more space, and you turned to look at him so you could furiously apologize and beg for your life.

Quaritch snatched your wrist in a bruising grip before you could fully pull away and tugged you angrily back into his body space. You hit the ground hard on your knees, wincing, kneeling in front of his sitting form. You didn’t even have time to pull away or straighten up before Quaritch is shoving his furious face close to yours, tail flicking furiously behind him.

And you couldn’t help but distantly think, this close to his face and eyes, he really is fucking pretty.

“You,” he hissed, bright yellow eyes enraged and narrowed as they flickered across your own wide ones, “need to watch you put your fucking hands, sweetheart, before you start something you can’t finish.”

“Sorry, sorry!” you squeaked, heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of emotions, “It was a slip of the hand!”

Quaritch growled, baring his sharp teeth slightly before tossing you your wrist back to you. You scrambled up and away from him quickly, taking several steps to widen your distance, chest heaving.

Quaritch rose as well, glaring at you one last time before turning on his heel and walking right out of the courtyard, fists clenched and tail still flicking angrily behind him.

As you squint worriedly after him, wondering if this was the end of your brief partnership, you could see the slight hint of a pretty purple on the back of his neck and the tip of his ears.

It was an accident, you wanted to shout after him, but somehow you don’t think it would help any.

Jesus Christ, I think my heart is about to explode.   

The morning after that whole thing had been unnerving, with Quaritch still grouchy and you still embarrassed. It was a little awkward when you began Quaritch’s Na’vi lesson, but by the time it was your lesson, you were back to inelegantly moving around and Quaritch was back to kicking your ass.

Now, every morning since your fainting spell, Quaritch will ask, “You sure you won’t pass out again, princess?”, or “Sure hope you snagged some grub, Peach”, always smirking callously and teasing you whenever he gets the chance, the dickbag.

You can’t really blame him, though; you really, really didn’t want another crotch-grabbing incident. Knowing your luck, you’d do something even worse, like full-on fondle him or trip and land face-first into his lap.

So now you make sure to take proper care of your Avatar, always eating and drinking enough and listening to the signals your body gave you. It had been massively dumb for you to not do that in the first place, but now you’re going to make sure it is your top priority.

As you finally arrive at your quarters, you conclude that you are far from friends with Quaritch, if that was even a possibility for him. In fact, you don’t think he even had any friends.

Sure, he was the commander of the Recombinant Unit and everything, and those guys fucking worship him, but it didn’t seem like it was the same as actually being friends who care about each other.

You get ready for bed, mind consumed with thoughts of Quaritch, and you can't help the thought that pops into your head as you shuffle around your room.

You know, I don't think I would mind all that much being friends with him.

Peachy Keen. Part Three.

Tagging: I'm sorry, I did my best, for some reason it wouldn't let me tag everyone!

@kristennero @silverhowe @creativityleftthechat @nissilou

@x-maladaptive-daydreams-x @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@rdeville @anxiousraindrop5299 @floufli @rax-raxus

@nanamislut321 @perseny @gremlinfuck @e1d0lonk3k

@iwillnotexplainmyself @mxddymay @coffinbeananteiku @j-ang-0

@myxwallz @rowdy-00 @tmblrsexyw0man

@tohellwiththedevill @arsen-the-vamp @babyduk213

[pedge-stuff]

HC: like if u are dating Pedro he is protective af in public. like the man is so sweet and wholesome but i like to think that if you ever get “harassed” in public or someone tried to record you,bother you, say he can do better than you to you or him he will like get sooo mad. He would barely be able to keep it together idk and like say things that would be unimaginable for normal pedro. (idk like just imagining him yelling or being like pissy and talking back to paparazzi or smothing is just whhwiwjwbwjwowiw to me) but its like sweet af, because it shows how much he cares about you. and that u are everything to him and whateverrrrr 🥺

idea ig idk

hm i will be back !!!! 😌 with more hc!! because this man had taken over me heh 😞

-thankful anon again as always still greatful for marked universe, m/gn content and the new fluffy fic that included oscar and the edibles ooohhhh so cute i melted !!!!!

I love where your head is at. Veered left with this one, hope it went vaguely where you were hoping. Thank you for the rec! :) Come back anytime. piss yellow range rover (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” apparently no one comments on this app anymore but they are my favorite so please drop a line!!

tw: gay slur in the middle. trans character, trans writer.

summary: baby's first homophobia

————————————————————————

You’re surprised it took so long, really. 

A full month after Pedro’s Tonight Show interview goes viral. After his SNL debut, the following week he spends holed up recovering, his begrudging return to LA for Mando press, and your reunion in the LAX Arrivals driveway two weeks later. Four full weeks— long enough that it no longer gripped teeth into the front of your mind. 

Long enough that your guard was down. 

Until, of course, some asshole decided he needed to be tastefully homophobic before his morning cup of coffee. 

You were midway through your LA morning routine: parting with Pedro in the parking lot of the strip mall that housed his personal trainer, and timing your long run around the surrounding area with the duration of his session, such that you were back to pick up a 2-drink mobile order at Starbucks by the time he emerged.

Your very normal, palatable oat latte was balanced atop his stomach-turning 6 black espresso shots, as you watched Pedro round the corner through the window. 

Sweat is beading at his temple, but he is all smiles as he trades you a kiss for his plastic cup.

It still feels like a novelty. Neither of you are usually PDA people, but the sudden lack of secrecy has brought on a second wave of the honeymoon phase. You can just do things like this, now— kiss in Starbucks or hold hands at restaurants or be seen grocery shopping together. You don’t have to take separate Ubers to the same place on date nights. 

The sun is shining, your iced latte was made right, your workout is over. There is a whole day in front of you, and a handsome man beside you. A man who holds the Starbucks door for both you and the woman pushing a stroller inside— but only reaches for your hand after. 

Things are actually really, really good. 

Until you step off the curb: 

“That is not the way. Fuckin’ fags.” 

Crazy how quickly some guy sipping a green goddamn smoothie can ruin your peace. Two guys, actually, snickering to each other as they unlock their car. 

Beside you, Pedro goes incredibly still. He drops your hand. 

“What did you just say?” 

His friend, chewing on his straw, grins as your stomach turns. A shit-eating grin. “At least it’s kinda straight, right? Dude’s got a pussy.” 

They erupt into laughter.  

White noise buzzes in your ear; your cheeks flush. “Come on.” 

You break away, towards the car, but his feet are rooted to the ground. “Pedro. Come on.” 

They are still laughing as they duck behind the tinted windows of a piss yellow Land Rover. Laughing as they close the door. 

Laughing as five and a half shots of espresso splatter across their black-tinted windshield, streaking in brown rivulets down the yellow hood. 

Pedro turns, finally, and stalks quickly across the lot. You have to jog to keep up. Behind you, the assholes are yelling profanities, but you don’t hear a car door open. Cowards. 

The moment he settles into the drivers seat, Pedro pounds a fist on the dashboard. Hard. His fingers curl into a tight grip around the steering wheel, which he clutches like a lifeline as he draws in a handful of ragged breaths. 

You can only watch from the passenger seat. Try and ignore the fact that he won’t look at you as he starts the engine and peels out of the lot. 

The drive to the Hills is dead silent. Even the radio can read the room. 

Silence acts as a breeding ground for your racing thoughts, which multiply like hatching mosquitos. Your ears are still ringing. Buzzing. 

It’s your fault— this is a fact. This was his biggest fear, wasn’t it? The backlash? This didn’t happen before he came out. (Before you forced him to come out, though he swears that wasn’t the case. You’d just finally, maybe begun to believe it, after a month. Or not.)

This happened to you, sure. Less so in New York, or LA. It’s almost funny, that you apparently stumbled across two of the only straight people in LA this morning.  Shitty people live everywhere. 

You’d both disabled the comments section of your instagram for a few days, but by and large, the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive. Until today. It’s different hearing it face-to-face. 

Pedro is halfway into the house before you realize you’re home. Slowly unbuckling, you debate leaving the iced latte in the cupholder; the thought of it turns your stomach. 

As you greet the dogs by the door, a distracted ‘hello,’ you watch him slip out to the condo balcony. He is clutching a pack of Spirits in a clenched fist. 

What are you supposed to do? There is nothing you can do, besides apologize. You pace between the kitchen and living room, chewing on your cuticles, eyes closed. The sweat from your run has now cooled uncomfortably on your skin. An apology won’t be enough, but you don’t have a solution. You can’t take it back. He can’t come un-out. 

The balcony door slides open, and Pedro is still silent as he shuffles to the kitchen. He pours a glass of water— out of habit, you assume. Though you never mind, he always washes the taste of tobacco away, after he smokes. Refuses to kiss you until after he’s cleansed his mouth, lest he leave any trace of stale smoke on your lips. 

Before you can really register, he has crossed into the living room, and pressed his lips to your own. 

He kisses you softly, and then moves to your forehead, eyebrow, temple, along your jaw. Doesn’t go as far as your neck, which he knows you are sensitive to— these kisses are not foreplay. They’re too light, too quiet. Your eyes flutter closed. 

Pedro’s chin hooks over the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders. Your cheek presses against the base of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, before weakly clearing his throat.  “I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“Why are you sorry?” You pick your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry? You… handled that so well, querido. I lost my shit. I have never gotten physical like that before, I don’t know what came over me. I’m not violent. They were just… they can’t say that. It’s not right.” 

It is your turn to reach up, place a kiss on the angle of his jaw. “You are not violent. You did not lose your shit.” 

“It was a perfectly good coffee,” he pouts. 

“We can get another,” you placate, “but I can’t get another you. People are always gonna say shit. It’s kinda nice to have something so good, it makes people mad.” 

Pedro chuckles, weakly. “Yeah. I guess.” 

“If it’s easier to lay off for a bit, though—“ 

“Lay off?” His brow furrows. 

You rub a hand up and down his arm, lightly. “The PDA, doing public stuff, I dunno. I don’t want you to—“ 

“Are you joking?” You are given a look of sheer disbelief. “Jesus, no. Isn’t that what they want? You want them to win?” 

“It’s not a competition, Pedge. I want you to be safe, and comfortable.” 

“Fuck that!” His exclamation is loud enough to startle Edgar, whose collar jingles as he jumps grumpily off the couch. “I love you. We went through too much shit, to not be able to hold your hand outside a fucking Starbucks.” 

Pedro’s hair is a little tousled, cheeks a little flushed. He’s maybe never looked more attractive to you. 

“Okay?” 

You exhale. “Of course.” 

There is a pause, as the morning settles back around you. The sun is still shining, your workouts are still behind you. Plenty of time in the day to walk to a different Starbucks, for another round of drinks. Maybe you’ll hold hands on the way there. You can, if you want to. 

Pedro tugs on the collar of his white t-shirt. He grimaces. “Can we shower, though? I think I smell like the ocean.” 

You don’t mind. 

[elliaze]

Anchor

Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader, mentioned Marc Spector x fem!reader and Jake Lockley x fem!reader, but is mainly Steven and reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant with twins and they have names already, panic attack, comfort and fluff, one spanish sentence

Summary: Y/N is terrified and can't fall asleep. Steven is always there to help.

Words Count: 3800+

MASTERLIST

You couldn't get to sleep. 

You had been trying to find the right position for hours, but the minutes were passing, and you couldn't manage it. On top of that, you were exhausted and sore and if you had known what a twin pregnancy entailed, you would never have agreed to it. Two little humans growing in your belly was perfect proof that you, Marc, Steven, and Jake loved each other exceptionally hard, but you cursed the day you decided together that you were going to try for a baby. Besides, it was only going to be one child at a time, not two. The second could only come after a few years, because you thought growing up with a sibling was so much better than on your own. Meanwhile, fate turned out to be so perverse that it gifted you with two children at one time, and as supportive as your husbands were, in the end it was you who had to struggle the most. 

Tears were pushing at your eyes, but at this stage you weren't even sure why anymore. From fatigue, because you really wanted to fall asleep, but you couldn't even close your eyes for a few minutes. From pain, because almost your whole body aches with every slightest movement. From fear, because you didn't know whether you would be able to cope and whether you would turn out to be a good mother. Or from the fact that you were barely in your second trimester and looked like a woman who was getting ready to give birth in a normal pregnancy, while you still had several months to go. You wiped your cheeks wet with tears and tried to take a few deep breaths to at least calm down, but this was proving more difficult than normal. You knew you were behaving irrationally because your hormones were bubbling up as if in an active volcano, and you were increasingly unable to cope with them. This often made you take it out on Marc and Steven, for which you later hated yourself. Especially when you saw how your words affected Grant, or irritated Marc. Although they both always tried not to react emotionally and handled you almost like a ticking bomb. Even Jake had stopped his cutting comments and only took control practically when necessary. 

You felt like an outcast and the worst person in the world, to the extent that your loved ones tried to avoid you. At least you saw it that way, and it made the black thoughts haunt your mind even harder. 

You didn't understand what was happening to your body, and consequently everything was taking its toll on your psyche. All kinds of emotions were taking over you, and you couldn't control it. It was as if someone had switched on a button that made you stop being yourself completely and become a monster. 

You placed your hands on your rounded belly and felt a new wave of panic wash over you. You pushed yourself off the pillow and struggled to rise to a sitting position. These movements alerted Steven, who turned towards you and put his hand on your back. 

“Are you all right, love?” He asked in a sleepy voice, and you felt new tears gather under eyelids. You complained to yourself, forgetting that you were not alone in bed and both Marc, Jake and Steven deserved a fair amount of sleep, especially given their problems and Khonshu himself, who had them working late more than once. 

Steven ran his hand over the underside of your back, pressing gently on it, and you felt how such a small gesture, if only for a brief moment, helped to lift the constant pain in your spine. However, you didn't want to be the reason why Steven couldn't sleep peacefully at night. 

“Mhm, I need to... go to the toilet,” you replied with difficulty, almost hearing how slurred and broken your voice was. 

You propped yourself up on the mattress with your hands and pushed yourself off it so that you could get up. Then straightened up, feeling that as you walked you felt even worse than when you were in bed. 

You walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you, trying to get at least the slightest sense of privacy. Didn't want to further worry Steven, who already seemed disturbed.

You looked at your reflection and although you still saw yourself, you were so unable to recognize yourself. It was as if the pregnancy had made you someone else entirely. You were really happy that you and the boys were about to become parents and that you were the one who was going to give birth to their first child, well children. It was an exciting feeling, something you never expected to experience. But at the same time, your whole life was turned upside down, and sometimes you just wanted it all to go away, and knowing that you still had three months to go only made the mood worse.

At this stage, a panic attack was practically expected. Your heart even started racing out of your chest and  breathing became extremely erratic. Your eyes darkened and at the last moment you sat down on the corner of the bathtub, but you had the feeling that you had knocked something over in the process and the glass had broken.  You felt as if someone had trapped you underwater. You couldn't take a breath, and you had the feeling that you were only falling deeper and deeper into a dark abyss of uncertainty, fear and anxiety. Unexpected heat hit your whole body, your hands began to tremble, and you felt tears running down your cheeks, and you could not control it in any way.

“Y/N?” You could hear Steven's concerned voice. And although you knew it was him, you couldn't normally see him and understand that he was actually next to you.

Steven himself was downright horrified by what he saw. When he was woken up by your movements, he had already realized that something was not right, but he knew that you were extremely independent and knew how to distinguish between situations where you needed a moment to yourself. He let you go to the bathroom without asking any questions, but did not go back to sleep and listened carefully, having a bad feeling. He wasn't wrong at all, because literally a few moments later he heard the crack of glass, the sound as if something was falling and the loud sobbing of his beloved.��

He had expected almost everything, but he was still unprepared for the sight of the destroyed mirror and the entire glass shelf of things underneath it. The frame after the mirror was still hanging twisted on the wall, and you were sitting on the bathtub, completely hyperventilating and looking as if you weren't paying attention to what was going on around you at all. What further disturbed him, however, were the traces of blood on your legs and the visible pieces of glass that were embedded in your skin. 

“Y/N!” He called out nervously and quickly made his way to your side. He ducked by your legs, being careful of your wounds. He managed to realize that the cuts were not life-threatening to you. He knew that he had to calm you down completely first, and he didn't think this would be an easy task, as it was the first time he had seen you in such a state. He put his hands on your thighs and reassuringly began to run them up and down, fearing that a bigger gesture would frighten you even more. “Talk to me, love.” 

“I think... I'm having a panic attack,” you said with difficulty, saying each word and taking a short pause afterwards. 

“Relax, we know how to deal with it. Look at me, and we'll breathe together, okay? Breathe in, count to five and calmly let the air out, you can do it. Just focus on me, love.” 

You blinked your eyelids a few times, trying to fix your gaze on Steven. Taking a breath, you heard him countdown to five and then instructed you to let the air out. You repeated this action several times until finally your breathing evened out. All the while, Steven was stroking your thighs reassuringly, occasionally hooking your hips and allowing you to relax completely. 

“How do you feel now?” He asked cautiously, and you shook your head, still feeling your whole body trembling. 

“I don't know what's going on, Steven,” you sobbed quietly, resting your hands on his shoulders. You tightened your fingers on his t-shirt, and it felt like it was the only thing that still made you conscious and more or less aware of where you were. 

Steven gently caught your face in his hands. 

“Do you remember the rule of the five senses?” You didn't answer for a moment, but then nodded with hesitation. “Well, that's good. Tell me five things you see.” 

You took a deep breath and almost squirmed under the pain you felt in your chest. However, you slowly began to list all the things you could see. 

“The door, the washing machine, the towel, Jake's hat and... you.” 

“You're doing great,” he praised you, running his thumbs over your cheeks. “Now four things you can touch.” 

“My t-shirt” you touched your clothes and then did the same with Steven's pyjamas. “And yours. The bathtub and…”

“Yes?” He encouraged you calmly. 

“Just you.”

You ran your hands up his body, so that you could feel his skin thoroughly under your own fingers. You could feel the pulse on his neck and had the feeling that you were slowly starting to come back to yourself. You knew where she was and with whom. Steven was like an anchor that allowed you to dock by the shore. You needed him to recover completely. 

“Very well, love. Now three things…”

“Which I can hear” you finished for him, and he nodded. “My heart, a car passing in the street and... your voice.”

You blushed slightly, which definitely stood out on your extremely pale cheeks. Steven smiled softly and, if it was possible, loved you even more. 

“And the two things you can smell?”

“Lavender oil and your distinctive scent”. 

Your words this time made him irresistible, and he quietly giggled, leaning your foreheads against each other. 

“I think you must love me a lot,” he stated, and you smiled for the first time. He kissed you on the cheek. “Here's that smile I love so much. But you have one thing left to say.” 

“One thing I can taste” you uttered quietly, directly into his mouth “Can I show you?”

You didn't wait for his response, and joined your lips together in a brief, gentle kiss. You felt your heart and breathing manage to calm down, but you knew it was solely because of Steven. He pulled you out of the dark abyss and slowly everything began to come to you. Including the pain in legs from new wounds. 

“What have I done…” you whispered in shock, looking around the room. You had the impression that the bathroom looked as if a tornado had passed over it. Your hand immediately found its way to your stomach, afraid that anything had happened to Jane or Oscar. 

“Hey,” Steven called out quietly, getting your attention. “Don't think about it now, okay? It's nothing, love. The most important thing is your safety and well-being. That's why we need to treat your wounds, but we'll do it in peace, okay? Can you manage to get up, or should I carry you?” 

“I can manage. I don't want you to break your back because of me.” 

Steven didn't reply, but furrowed his brow at those words. He knew that although it looked like the worst was over, there was still the question of why you were having a panic attack in the first place. You may have had mood swings over the last few weeks, but he completely understood that, especially as you had two little people growing inside your body, which he still couldn't believe sometimes himself. 

You lifted yourself off the edge of the bath with his help and then, calmly and being careful of the glass fragments, you walked out of the bathroom together. All the while, he held you up firmly and then planted you on the bed. You lay down on the mattress, and he quickly adjusted the pillow so that you could sit up comfortably. 

“Is that okay?” He asked with concern, and you nodded, closing your eyes. “I'll be right back, love.” 

Steven kissed you on the head and returned to the trashed bathroom. He pulled a first aid kit from one of the shelves and returned to the room with all speed. He looked at you for a brief moment and saw how exhausted you were. He just had no idea if it was just related to the attack or if there was something else behind this extremely vulnerable state. 

Hermano, ¿qué pasa?

Steven was surprised by Jake's presence, because he had not heard him or Marc for a moment. Marc, moreover, was still silent, so he was betting that he didn't even know what was going on. Steven was going to tell him about it anyway, as soon as he could sense him. 

“Y/N had a panic attack, but she's calmed down now,” he explained quietly, glancing at his reflection in the aquarium. Jake nodded but didn't reply, knowing you were in the best of care. 

Grant sat next to you, slowly attending to your wounds. Occasionally you hissed in pain as he pulled a larger piece of glass from your skin and then poured hydrogen peroxide over it, but at the end, no cuts required stitching. There were a few patches on the calves, and Steven kissed each one at the very end. He put all the first aid kit on the bedside table and then sat down closer to you. He grabbed one of your hands, which had been on your stomach all this time, and drew it to his lips, placing a gentle and tender kiss. When he looked at you, you did your best not to look at him.

“Y/N” he spoke up, still holding your hand and now running his fingers over your exposed forearm. “Darling, what happened? You don't have to tell me now, but you scared me. I thought something had happened to you.” 

“I'm sorry,” you muttered quietly, and Steven barely heard you. Even though you had calmed down, you were still so scared. “I... I don't know what's happening to me.” 

“It's alright..”

“No, it's not fine,” you interrupted him, shaking your head. Steven immediately fell silent, allowing you to spill everything that was bothering you. “Since the beginning of the second trimester, I've felt like I'm not me. I am mean, I would cry all the time and everyone notices it and suffers because of it. You get hurt by my words, Marc refrains from replying to me, and Jake hides for as long as possible. I feel as if the pregnancy has completely changed my character, and I've gone from being an independent, strong woman to some kind of caricature of myself. On top of that, I am behaving towards you, like the worst kind of bitch. You do not deserve this”. 

“Y/N, we totally get it,” he asserted, but you still refused to look him in the eye. Steven sighed quietly. “You're pregnant, it's normal for your body to change, and therefore it also affects your psyche. We know how hard it is for you, we see it. If we could, each of us: me, Marc and Jake, would take at least half of your struggles from you. We love you no matter what you say or how you act. You are doing something amazing, and we are really proud of you.” 

“It's not just that” you finally dared to look at him, but despite your fears, you saw nothing but deep devotion and love in his eyes. “I haven't been able to sleep peacefully for days, I feel sore all the time, and today I feel like my back is about to burst.” 

“Why didn't you say anything to me before?” 

“I didn't want to worry you. I could see you were tired after work, and I didn't make this evening any easier for you at all.” 

“Love, you're my wife for a reason” Steven kissed you on the cheek. “I know how much you love your independence, so asking for help and telling me something is not right is not a sign of weakness” 

“I know, I know. You've taught me that yourself over the years. It's only recently that all my insecurities have been coming back with redoubled force. Then there's the whole situation at the shop today.”

Steven tensed up, fearing the worst. It was the first time he had heard of any situation in the shop, and the mechanism that told him to defend you at all costs suddenly triggered twice as hard. He straightened up and then looked at you carefully and put his hands on your shoulders. He felt that he could not for a moment stop touching you in any way, because it was his touch that calms you down. 

“What situation?” He asked with audible concern. 

“It's actually silly, there's nothing to talk about.” 

“Y/N?”

“You are going to laugh at me” you tried to ignore the whole situation and play down the whole problem. 

“You know very well that I would never do that. What happened, love?”

“I went to the shop because I wanted to make your favourite casserole. I thought I'd surprise you, and we could spend the evening together, even if all we had to do was lie in bed and watch some stupid movie” you took a deep breath, nervously playing with the end of your pyjama shirt. “There was some old, curious... woman in the vegetable department. You know, at first I didn't pay any attention to her, but now I have the feeling that she's been watching me all this time. Until finally she came up to me and started touching my belly without warning. I was terrified and became immobile. She asked when my due date was, and I was unable to think logically and said it was only the end of the second trimester. And she looked at me like I was... I don't know like, I said the best joke in the world, and then she said I must be eating a lot if I look like this in the second trimester, and she walked away, and I stood there like a fool. Terrified, heartbroken and on the verge of crying because I realised I already looked like a whale and what would happen later.”

“Oy” Steven called out quickly. “Don't say that. Do you hear me? This woman had no right to behave like that, and you have no reason to listen to her. Possessed crazy bitch” you giggled quietly, and Steven was even furious at the whole situation that you must have experienced. He took a deep breath, straightened up and grasped your hands in his own. “Y/N, darling, look at me.” This time you obeyed him. “Do you know that I love you? And Marc and Jake? I'm going to say this on my behalf now, but I know the guys totally agree with me. Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman on earth. Incredibly dedicated, caring for others, courageous and empathetic. You can understand and put up with all three of us like no one else. You don't mind my chatter, and you know full well that sometimes I can get carried away. You accept each of us as we are and don't want to change us in any way. You are the best that has happened in our lives. You give us your love every day, even though we don't always deserve it. And you are doing something extraordinary by carrying our two children. Little Jane and little Oscar, who will be half, like us and half, like you. You are my heroine, and I don't know a stronger person than you.” 

She felt a few tears fall down your cheeks, but Steven quickly brushed them away. He took you into his arms, and you snuggled into his warm body, and for the first time all evening you finally felt completely at peace. All your worries were gone with just a few words you needed to hear. Steven ran his hands along your spine, and you sighed in relief as his hands found their way down your back and began to press a little harder against it. 

“Don't stop doing that,” you asked quietly. “It reduces the pain in your back.” 

“Anything you want” he whispered in your ear. “Next time you feel like this again, tell me or Marc or Jake, okay? Panic attacks are not good for you, and Y/N I've never seen you like this before. You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.” 

“I'm sorry, Steven.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry about” he kissed you on the head. “It's late, you should get some rest. Do you think you'll be able to fall asleep?” 

“Will you hug me?” 

“With the greatest pleasure” he answered with a smile. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, and then you lay down on the bed together. You lay on your side and Steven carefully put one arm around you and placed the palm of his other hand back on your back, gently massaging it. 

“Steven?” You spoke up again, and there was visible weariness in your voice. “Will you tell me about how we met?” 

“Why about that?” 

“I love to hear you talk about it. I love to hear you talk about anything. Your stories are better than books. Jane and Oscar will love them as much as I do.” 

Steven couldn't argue with that, so he started telling stories. When he needed to, he would change the tone of his voice, sometimes accenting single words or events he was talking about. However, he didn't even get halfway through the story of how they had tried to stop Harrow and Ammit together, and he heard your quiet breathing. You fell asleep, snuggling tightly into his shoulder. Although he knew the position he was lying in wasn't too comfortable and tomorrow he or whoever was in control of the body would complain, seeing Y/N finally calm was not going to change that. If that was to be the price for your comfort, he was happy to pay it. 

He adjusted the duvet and covered you tightly so that you wouldn't be cold at night, and then he brushed a strand of hair away from your face and breathed a sigh of relief to see you smiling gently. He hoped you were dreaming something beautiful.

[whysodelirious08]

Don't Disappear - Eddie Munson x Female Reader

A/N: I'm really gunna try on this lmao but if it doesn't work or it's really bad, oh well. Let me know. This is also based in a time where its not so much based around the powers and upside-down, and Eddie doesn't, you know in this world I'm making.

- Please do not copy and repost elsewhere or steal my works. Thank you. -

[THIS TOOK ME 14 HOURS TO WRITE PLEASE READ IT LMAO *Crying*]

This is a dark fic! MINORS DNI. 18+. Read all TWs first. It's a horror/Thriller/Gore/Suspense. Smut at the end! So you can skip it if it's not your thing. :))

Ship: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

(friendship but some feelings and kissing/making out. Maybe a relationship? I guess I'll know when I finish writing or you finish reading lol)

Plot: You and Eddie have been best friends since forever, you grew up together at the trailer park and were inseparable up until you disappeared, that was when you were both thirteen. Now you were nearly twenty and you're suddenly at high-school, avoiding him at every moment so that you don't have to reveal the dark truth. The tension builds, you argue, feelings are revealed and a new lease on life blossoms.

Word count (story content only. Not story info/notes/dates): 10k (10,824)

TW: Hidden feelings, Dark past, Tension, Avoidance, Vocal Arguments, Slight grabbing and pulling, Kissing/making out, Smut, Lying, Bullying, Blood, Kidnapping, On the run, Alcoholic parents, Drugs, Verbal abuse, Slurs, men eyeing up minor (briefly mentioned in summery), talk of death, swearing, 18+.

(If I've forgotten any TWs please comment below, politely.)

Note: (Up until 12th October 1979, everything written before dated timestamp takes places from September 1978 - October 1979)

You and Eddie had known each other since you were toddlers, him being a few months older than you which he always used as an excuse to get what he wanted, despite the fact he would almost always give into you after, just wanting to make a point. For the both of you, days consisted of make believe adventures and searching each others homes for enough money to get some candy while you walked around the outskirts of the trailer park. Though those days hunting for money was also a fear filled missions, worrying your parents would catch you and proceed to lock you in your bedroom for stealing. Eddie knew to be cautious, you two had signals and expressions so subtle that no one ever noticed. Though you wouldn't know that wasn't part of a regular childhood until later.

"Hey! Hurry up! He's going you see you!" Eddie pleaded in a voice just above a whisper, his eyes locked onto your father walking down the gravel path, coming back from work. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you could almost hear Eddie's too. Your tiny, twelve-year-old hands fumbling to pull the dollar bill from under the tight space of the cushion, the couch being the first spot you always checked. Neither of you had expected your father to come home early, as a result a dollar would have to do for now. You finally grabbed it and shoved it into your shoe, putting the couch back together and moving to the nearest space; the kitchen, as your father walked in.

He eyed you up and down, stopping where he was with a judgemental stare. You grabbed a cold glass of water and offered it.

"Welcome home, daddy..." You smiled, not too sweet but just enough. He grunted and took the glass, watching as you slipped away and out of the home. Your hands were visibly shaking, Eddie noticed and took one of them.

"I'll be back soon, daddy. We're going to walk about while it's still light" You called and waited for some acknowledgement before the two of you bolted out of there, tears brimming in your eyes, the adrenaline rushing through you was now settling. Eddie's hand, a little bigger in comparison, still clung to yours. He didn't say anything for a while, you noticed in his eyes that he had been just a terrified in that moment. You both sat on a grassy patch a ways from any of the trailer homes, you found yourself sniffling a little though the shock had worn off.

Sure, Eddie was usually argumentative, stubborn and prone to acting out but not to your or his family, you both knew better than that. He had tried it once, you had watched in fear the entire time as your father pinned him against the flimsy kitchen wall, you thought Eddie might've actually gone through it into the bathroom at one point. Both of you left your home and neither went back for that night. You had stayed at Eddie's, curled up in the same bed with what was left of a crumbling comic. None of the kids liked you or Eddie, you were always at school and he never was, when he finally did get into school he met a group of boys who were obsessed with a new found game called Dungeons and Dragons and that was when things started to get rocky between you two.

He spent more time away from the trailer park, leaving you with your alcoholic and abusive family, you two only saw each other at school and without him to step in, bullies quickly took that opportunity to separate you and bully you so badly that at times you even skipped school which became a concern for teachers, this lead to house calls where your parents had then find out that you were skipping and punished you harshly. This only lead to more days out of school as you waited for the bruises to heal. You two soon bickered any time you saw each other, you were lonely and you were always met with Eddie's guilty expression hidden by anger. This started a year before things took a frightening and a life changing turn for you, and an endless amount of guilt for Eddie as you would find out later on.

---

5th November 1978 [Saturday]

(A year before the event. An interaction with Eddie where it becomes evident things are not the same between you at school or home anymore)

You had been trying to talk to Eddie the entire day but now it was lunch and he had brushed you off three times, he tried to be nice to you but he still gave his excuses. You huffed as you sat at a table that was next to his, your back to his. And then came Francis Carmen, the boy who bullied you the most, even outside of school back when Eddie never attended.

"Oh look! It's the rat girl! Too poor to get new clothes Y/N?" He teased with a laugh as he grabbed your hair and let it slide from his fingers, admittedly it was messy and tangled but you barely had time in the day to look after yourself anymore. At twelve years old you were made to attend school, complete homework, clean, cook and run errands.

You hated that laugh. You wanted to take it and bottle it up, throw it into a well so he could never laugh like that to you or anyone ever again. He continued to ruthlessly tear into your appearance, your family, your lack of friends. Your glanced over at Eddie with a pleading look, he had usually defended you by now, way before it ever got to this point but he just frowned and turned away. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you know right then and there he had separated himself from you.

"Just leave me alone!" You asked quietly standing up with your tray of untouched food, taking what you were able to carry and just dumped the rest.

"What was that? Did you just talk back? Feeling brave, Rat?" He said as he headed toward you but you rushed out just in time.

----

The rest of that year had been a blur of insults from Francis, arguments with Eddie and bad grade reports from teachers. And of course being thrown about and yelled at by your parents. On Christmas break you got work from around town just to be away from home since you had no school for a while, sometimes finding anywhere else to sleep. Occasionally Eddie would come and talk but the conversations were short with a lot of silences in between.

"If you don't want to be my friend anymore, just say it. You don't have to pretend anymore. You have your new friends. You don't have to come and hang out with me just to make me feel better..." You stated as you sat on the tire swing, Eddie was stood behind you, you couldn't even face him.

You knew Eddie had a tendency to say things he didn't mean when his anger sparked up. This time was no different.

"No. I don't wanna be friends with you. You're clingy and annoying. And you're weak! So stop talking to me at school. Just stay away from me" He spat, his words like a spear through your heart. You said nothing, you couldn't do anything other than let the tears fall though they were hidden from sight as Eddie walked away. That was the last time you would hang out before the event took place.

(Converstation took place in December. Life carried on as usually until the next timestamp, when the both of you are now thirteen)

----

12th October 1979 [Friday]

(This is the day and the days thereafter the event took place. I will give some backstory first and proceed with the dark, violent, Gore event; kidnapping. You may skip over this and just acknowledge it was a kidnapping).

You had just celebrated your thirteenth birthday just a few days prior, having actually gotten a cake from your sober parents, you didn't know why they were being so nice and despite the fact you found it very suspicious, you didn't want your questioning and worries to ruin the first birthday in a very long time that was normal. The day had been nice, you had gotten to sleep in and was greeted with a gift and a cake, as well as smiles from your mother and father. You made a wish and opened your gift, spending the morning eating cake for breakfast while your parents left you with minimal chores for that day. It was nice actually, though it would have been nicer with Eddie. You had never celebrated a birthday without him before.

But now it was back to your normal life yet your parents had been out of the house more than usual, without explanation. You had tried not to question it but the worries creeped in. On this particular night though, your parents called, which they never did.

"Hey Love, I'm going to need you to do a favour for me" Your mother's voice was soft yet sounded strained as if she had been or was crying. You found yourself frowning as you stood awkwardly waiting, nodding before remembering you had to actually talk.

"Y-Yeah sure..." You stammered out after a moment of silence you shared. A wave of unease washing over you but you didn't know why.

"I need you to go and hang out at a friend's or something. Just leave the trailer park for a few hours. Can you do that? It's complicated but can you just do that? For me?" She pleaded, her voice was so thick with desperation that you couldn't bring yourself to even ask why. Again you nodded but spoke up too. Your breaths were getting heavier as a thick feeling of fear tightened around your throat. The call didn't last long after that and you tried to rush to get dressed into something warm and to find some money just in case but you froze as you opened the rattling draw of cutlery.

A heavy set of winter boots met the weak wood of the steps just outside the front door. A shadow of a man. No. Of multiple men. Outside your home. You could barely swallow the lump in your throat, they waited while you waited, seeing who was going to move first. You notice that the fact they were unmoving was enough evidence that they knew you were there. Your hand slid into the draw, pulling out the biggest knife you could feel while not looking away. You noticed a hand move to what told you was the doorhandle, jaw clenched so tightly your teeth hurt, your knuckles white while you desperately gripped the handle of the knife. You had never so much as fought back against your father let alone anyone else.

And then a loud ring blared through the home. Simultaneously the front door opened. You reached for the phone, answering in fearful cries as you were grabbed by the waist from behind, a deathly grip pulling you away from the kitchen and the phone that was in it. You heard your father on the phone, you called for him.

"Daddy! DADDY HELP ME! DADDY PLEASE-" You could all but scream as you clung to the phone, as if talking into the phone was a better option that using the knife in your hand. You could hear his sobs down the phone and his pleads of forgiveness. Your mother's too. You tried. You did. You tried to fight them off with the knife but you were too weak, to frail to even do any actual damage other than a few cuts on their faces. Your fighting ended when you were launched back and hit your head against the counter, the last thoughts you remembered was why no one came to help, why, in a trailer park full of people, did no one come to help. They just stayed away in fear as your small body was carried into a car and you weren't seen again. Not for a long time.

During your time being held captive you were made to be a cute little waitress to some lowlives in a house. You weren't told why you were taken for a number of years. And the men did nothing other than ogle at your child body, until you were eighteen and only then did they start to grab you, of course others had tried before then but the "House Rules" were strict. Disgusting men that still had rules and morals apparently.

That was not to say they didn't thow you about when you disobeyed. They would beat you senseless, call you names, starve you, leave you in a room with nothing to sleep. You tried to escape so many times but you never could. You lost hope when you were told by the drunk version of the man who kidnapped you that your parents owed him money and gave you up in place of the money because they couldn't pay it back. After hearing that, your thirteenth birthday made a lot more sense. You could do nothing but just obey mindlessly from then on, your determination had ceased, no hope, you just felt so entirely numb that you couldn't focus on anything, you spiraled. You let them do whatever they wanted, you had no other choice and you figured you would die here anyway. That was until a rival group of criminals raided the house, and when they found you they clearly wasn't going to spare you. Despite being thin and weak like you had been before, no matter how weak you felt that adrenaline rush of a chance of freedom was something you were not going to let go. From the large spears of wood from the door where the armed man had kicked it open, you picked the nearest that was able to do the most damage. Sure, he threw you like a ragdoll but you could handle more than that, you had dealt with worse.

You growled lowly, you felt such an animalistic rush, a need to survive at that moment. Your legs trembled, tears were falling qns yet you were still standing. They raised their gun but even still you ducked and lunged forward, the base of the wooden shard against your stomach as you forced it into them, feeling the warm red liquid soon connect with your hands. Your eyes erratically looked for an exit. The window. Ground level. Locked. As you tried to form some kind of a plan you heard multiple boots thudding, threatening to round the corner. The man under you was still alive, your heavy breaths nearly matched his whimpers of pain.

"Fuck" You breathed under a heavy breath. You scrunched your face up in pain, not wanting to hurt anyone but he was drawing too much attention. You snatched the gun and pointed down at the man. You locked eyes for the brief time you held the gun toward him.

"Keep your mouth shut. Got it?" Your voice was trembling yet the look in your eyes proved you would pull the trigger if you had to. This. Was. Life. Or. Death. You had no choice if he yelled.

You quickly moved the gun to the window, shooting a few times before shoving the gun into the back of your jeans waistband. You looked over your shoulder, for only seconds before you kicked the glass away from the window frame. The small space was just big enough for your body to fit through. It wasn't until you were standing and four step away from the window did a ground round the corner of the house and see you. You ran. As fast as your weakened legs could. You fell. You tripped. You nearly gave up but the feeling of freedom was so damn close you didn't let go of the hope that was blossoming in your chest.

"Fuck this shit. I'm getting out." You spoke through gritted teeth as you snuck up to a car climbed in moments before two men got into the front. Your back was against the back of the drivers seat, curled up so tightly as you moved out of the estate and away. You didn't even care which direction as long as it was away. You had to keep your hand over your mouth and conceal all noise as a few gunshots hit the care. You felt sick, your vision was threatening to leave. You held on because your life depended on doing so.

Twenty minutes of driving and they stopped, you were praying to any and all divine beings out there that you didn't get caught. Up until this point you weren't religious at all but you needed a miracle. A real big fucking miracle. You listened as the two men climbed out of the car and a valet climbed in. You waited until the car started to move again before you made your presence known, a gun clearly in your hand.

"Drive to a safe area. I need to get out without being seen. I promise I won't hurt you but I need to get home. I've been through enough shit" You pleaded now, the nervous valet nodded and pulled up to just before where the parking area was. You left the gun in the car and bolted out of there. The bride was nearby, you would feel safer being over the bridge but your legs were failing you. You cried out in pain as your legs burned as if they were on fire. You were dragging yourself along as a police car pulled along. They asked a few questions but all you could manage was a string of words.

"Hawkins. I need to go...home. to Hawkins." You cried now. The rest was a blur of questions and a long drive with a few stops to a police station to figure out who the cops had in their car. Calls were made and a drive home was needed. Despite your need of sleep you were questioned by Hawkins police. Everything was kept hush hush. For two weeks you were kept under a secret location, asked the same questions and treated for wounds. Once assessed and found stable you were free. From cheap motel to being left at the trailer park was a huge step.

Your family no longer around, having died as a result of alcohol and drugs two years ago, their place was left to you and Eddie. You would find out that Eddie had upkept it but never stayed there.

----

September 14th 1985 [Saturday. 1:00 A.M.]

(It has been nearly six years since your dispearance. Not even a month away from six full years. You are nineteen now. You're scared of being back at the trailer park. Of Eddie not being there, of even just facing him of he was.)

From cheap motel interrogations to being left at the trailer park was a huge step for you. It was dark, the rain was hammering down and you were already drenched even though you had stepped out the police car not even two minutes ago. You moved through the gates and shut them behind you. Your tired and sloppy steps caused your shoes to gather cake like layers of mud though the thick and fast droplets were washing your shoes clean at about the same pace. Once you had reached your trailer you stood studying it, it looked the exact same. You don't know why you expected it to look any different. It was only when you headed up the steps that you realised you didn't have a key and one of the neighbours probably did. You let an disgruntled grunt leave your slightly swollen lip. To Eddie's it was. If he still even lived there. Or here. Or just in Hawkins.

You trudged over and carefully walked up the steps, your lightly closed fist hovering in front of the door before you knocked three times, somewhat gently. The flimsy metal doors were loud enough. You hated waking people up, always had but perhaps that was the trauma of childhood speaking. You waited a few moments and tried again, you were one knock in before the lights turned on.

"Alright! One second- Jesus. H. Christ!" A deep, raspy voice called from the other side, a light flickering on before it stabilised to a yellow glow. You heard the sound of locks being turned before you had to step out of the way of the door.

"Who the hell are you? And why are you knocking the goddamn door at one in the morning?" The average yet slightly thin built man with brown, frizzy curls spoke as he looked down at your with those all too familiar brown eyes, you barely recognised him with the new look. Last time you had seen each other he had a shaved head. The new look suited him.

"Hi? Hello? You gunna answer my question?" He asked in his tiredness. A hand on each side of the doorframe.

"Oh...I uh need the keys to my trailer, Eddie. A place to sleep would be great. It's cold" You said, you didn't know how to introduce yourself after all this time so you just went straight to the point, moving forward into the light more. Your hair was way longer than before too, the wetness of it made it stick to the majority of your face. There was a shared silence as you watched the realisation hit Eddie's face. He stepped back, tilting his head a bit as he gave you a looked mixed with pain, fear and almost anger. His eyebrows knitted together.

"This is just some weird fuckin' dream. You're not here. Yeah, I just smoked too much. So you can just leave. I don't like these sick games" he stated in a world of shock. It pained you to see Eddie like this. You realised now how much going missing must have hurt him too.

"Eddie...I get what it looks like. But I promise. I'm not pulling any sick kind of game" you offered softly, not wanting to step in with messy shoes so you remained where you were next to the door.

"I'm sorry...I...don't know what you think happened back then but I can tell you. I can explain if you just let me..." your voice breaking a little. You were desperate for some familiarity, the closeness of their hold. You watched as Eddie paced the room.

"You can explain?! It's been six years! You just left me. You just- gunna uh- just left without a word!" He stated as he walked up to you. Pointing his finger. Now the tears were forming again in your eyes.

"Eddie that not what happe-" You tried to speak but you were cut off by a loud laugh and a scoff. He nodded with his hands hovering over his hair briefly.

"Oh? No? That's not what happened? What happened then? You got bored here? You found someone better to spend your time with?" He asked. He stated. Though what he was saying was contradictory since that was what he had done.

You turned to the side as you looked up, trying to force away the tears. You sniffled before letting out a weak sob.

"Just shut up! Just...please. My parents- fuck..." You couldn't say it out loud, it sounded ridiculous and it was painful to admit.

"What? Your parents What? Waited for you? Looked for you? Your parents-" He rambled but you cut him off with a harsh glare this time.

"Traded me in." You stated and Eddie finally fell silent as he stared at you.

"Traded me in because they couldn't afford to pay back what they borrowed. So they let a group of men drag me away from my trailer in return for not paying the money back. I was screaming Eddie. The day they dragged me away and not one. NOT ONE PERSON. Helped!" You were almost yelling now. Having to admit this was heartbreaking for the both of you.

"I would NEVER leave you without saying something. Anything. But I'm not the one who pretended to not know me all because you made new friends at school. You let Francis bully me. And you moved on. We didn't even talk for a year before I disappeared. Remember? So if I had left by my own accord, could you even blame me?!" You cried now. It was all coming out. You had years to think about this and hadn't had the chance to say it up until this point.

Eddie stood with mixed expression, you could deduct some anger, pain and guilt and perhaps a need to defend himself too. There was a long pause. Enough to dismiss the following statements.

"You were taken..?" He finally spoke as he stepped forward. You didn't move but your eyes dropped to your feet as your face scrunched in pain at acknowledgement of the fact. You had been taken. And your parents offered you. You were just a kid.

You were just a fucking kid...

You could only weakly nod. You felt a slow hand curl around the back of your head and pull you into the dry, warm and soft feeling of Eddie's stomach, their shirt sticking to your face, your hand resting only just below his chest. It took a few moments but your arms moved to slink around his waist and pull yourself in closer for a minute.

"Come in." He whispered and dragged you in which gave you no other choice but to bring your muddy shoes in. You used Eddie to stabilise yourself as you pulled your wet feet out of your shoes. You tried apologising for the mess but he wouldn't let you.

"Just- Stay here. Let me grab you something to wear" he said softly though his voice wavered in it's rushed and tired tone. He disappeared into what you knew was his room. You pulled off the jacket given to you from the police, having gotten it from the lost and found box at the motel. It felt gross but it had been keeping you warm. You placed it by the door where your shoes were, looking around in one of the junk draws and found a hair tie, you knew that long haired son of a bitch had to have one now. You pulled your hair up into some kind of bun at the back of your head, pushing the small strands out of the way.

Eddie stood in the doorway of his bedroom and motioned for you to come in. You moved into the room where he shut the door. He pointed to the fresh towel on the bed along with a shirt that you knew would be huge on you if it was baggy for Eddie. As well as some of the smallest boxers he could find. That's That's he had for now. You sighed and pulled your shirt off, you had become so used to people seeing your body that you forgot to give any warning. You heard Eddie make a noise of surprise and looked just as he had turned around.

"Sorry..." You mumbled before continuing to pull the wet clothes that stuck tightly to your skin. You them proceeded to dry yourself with the towel before you heard Eddie speak, not looking.

"Do you uh. Wanna stay here tonight?" He asked quietly, you sniffled and cleared your throat, thinking for a moment.

"Okay..." You finally mumbled out as you shimmied into the boxers that fit pretty well, a little loose but good granted the situation. You quickly pulled on the shirt and turned around.

"I'm dressed." You said, then watching him turn around while he then watched you pull their hair tie from your head. You grabbed the towel and started to dry your hair.

"Lemme help" He moved to the bed and patted the wooden frame in between his legs. You paused for a moment before obliging. You sat crossed legged in front of him while he took the towel and gently started to gently dry your hair, you felt yourself relaxing into their gentle kneading movements.

"Almost like you don't want me to stop..." He joked softly, his voice not very loud at all, not wanting to disrupt the calmer atmosphere. You smiled a little at the comment and hummed in a response which was enough for Eddie's paused hands to carry on, though your hair didn't really need to be dried more.

"You um...look good with your long hair..." You told him in a voice that matched his earlier. You had always asked him to grow his hair out but he never did. He leaned over you while stopping his hands and pulled the towel away. His hand falling over his face and into yours.

"Hmm? Really?" He smiled, you just loved the way he smiled with his whole face, the creases of his smile in his cheeks. You couldn't help but smile back. Finally feeling safe for the first time since...you and Eddie were still close.

"Really." You reply softly, your hand moving up to touch it, your head moving to lean against his thigh, his sweatpants pretty comfortable too. He chuckled and leaned back up.

You moved to tie your hair back up and rub your face in your tiredness. Yawning a moment later before you stood, promoting Eddie to do the same. He moved to the small storage cupboard and pulled out a spare blanket and pillows, heading to leave.

"Where are you going?" You blurt out without it meaning to sound so sudden. Watching as Eddie moved to turn around.

"I'll sleep on the couch" he stated before you frowned and shook your head.

"No you have the bed. Give." You stated and took the blanket and pillows before he could protest. You moved to set up a bed and climbed in. He groaned under his breath and flung his arms up a little in protest but said nothing.

"Goodnight Eddie" you said just as he was about to turn off the lights. You caught a glimpse of his smile just before the room went dark.

"G'night Y/N" he said before almost shutting the door.

Your peaceful sleep lasted all but four hours at most, not able to do the math while so tired. Yet you work up with a start, sweating and panting as fear ran through your veins. It was usually at near to five that you'd be woken up and clearly you would have an issue with this for a while. You leaned back on your hands and sighed, eyes gliding over to Eddie's door. You thought for a moment before sneaking over and into the bedroom. Shutting it after you. You knew he was a heavy enough sleeper to not notice you as long as you were quiet and gentle. You climbed into bed, facing inward of Eddie's chest. You pulled the blanket up and for a moment you were sure he was still asleep until an arm wrapped around you and held you close. Not noticing that he was shirtless at first yet that didn't bother you. You could notice the smell of smoke, cigarettes and some cheap cologne still lingering on him but still it was oddly familiar and comforting.

You fell asleep after a while of thinking, listening to Eddie's steady breaths helped a good deal. You awoke in the morning to gentle fingers running up and down a section of your back, a chin resting on the top of your head. You shifted a little and the feeling stopped, Eddie pulling away to look down at you.

"Morning" Your voice was weak but there. Groaning as you slung your arm over him and cuddled in.

"Good morning" he said just as softly though his voice was gravelly, giving you a hint he had not long woken up either. You both just laid there for a while, almost until you fell asleep again but he forced himself up and that urged you to do the same.

The morning was filled with hot coffee, sour conversations and explanations that you had to slowly admit. Some confessions and some catch up.

"Really Munson? You're graduating next year? Jesus. Looks like I'll have to help you huh?" You teased as your now dry locks started to frame your face as gathered strands slowly slipped from the hair tie.

"Mhm sure, Sweetheart. You haven't got the brains" he chuckled as he leaned back into the firm cushion of the couch, coffee in hand.

You rolled your eyes though a flutter had risen from just the word 'sweetheart'. You prompty ignored it though. You took a break and took the last sip from your coffee before placing it on the table.

"So...who knows that you're here?" He asked with a worried look arising on his features, the expression didn't suit him.

"Just you and the cops. I've been here for two weeks but they wouldn't let me go since I had information they needed and I needed to be assessed after everything I told them. Needed to I don't know...make sure I was mentally stable I guess." You sighed softly and shrugged, shoulders shrinking a little after.

"I disappeared from this town a freak. A outcast. I'm just as much of one now as I was then. I don't- I don't know how people are going to react. It'll be like they're seeing a ghost or something" You said and laughed nervously looking around before meeting Eddie's eyes, finding safety in their reassuring gaze.

"Well...this time I'm not turning my back on you. I promise. Again. No more broken promises." He said, he seemed genuinely yet after the last six years your trust was destroyed. You didn't let that show, you just nodded.

"Well...Will you come to my graduation?" He asked after a moment. You smiled a little and moved forward a bit.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it. Just as long as you help me find a way to live in this town. I have nothing. I was still in middle school when things happened. I have nothing to get a job with" You admitted and sighed, standing up, still in Eddie's shirt and boxers. You noticed him staring a little from the reflection in the window but didn't physically acknowledge it. You moved to bag your still wet clothes to take them uo to the laundrette later.

"What have you got plan-" you were cut short by a voice outside Eddie's door.

"Eddie? Eddie! You home? Hello?" The voice of Dustin called, wanting to talk about ideas for an upcoming campaign.

You stood and looked over with a frown before you disappeared into the bathroom.

You listened as Eddie opened the front door and spoke for what felt like ages, even noticing how the new person came inside and rambled on. You tried not to let a grain slip from your lips. You just looked around his bathroom and pulled a new toothbrush from under the cupboard, opening it from the plastic and cardboard packaging. You brushed your teeth diligently. Pulling your clothes off after and getting into the shower, which both boys inside the trailer took notice of. Still, it felt nice to get clean, properly clean. You had nothing else to change back from other than what what have been wearing. After changing back in to the borrowed clothes you used a wide comb which was the only one in the bathroom, after washing it of course, to detangle your hair that was nearly matted.

Finally you heard them leave and Eddie knocked the door as a signal. You came out much the same as you went in except you now smelled of mens body wash and had wet hair.

"Jesus. He was here for ages" You groaned. And Eddie just made a 'phfft' sound and gave a 'I don't know' kind of shrug. You rolled your eyes a bit.

"I guess I can't hide out in here forever. I'll need to actually make myself known. I just need to get some new clothes first. That's all I have" You mentioned as you pointed ti the bag of wet clothes you arrived in.

"You can try and find something of mine to wear? Or uh...I could go and pick something up from the thrift stores? Then once you have at least a few things you can pick your own stuff out? I'll help you pay." He offered and as much as you feared Eddie picking something out for you, you still agreed.

That afternoon you spent by yourself, apparently Eddie had some game thing tou didn't understand to talk about with a bunch of school kids, you didn't understand any of it but didn't question it, well. Not too much anyway. You slept for a while before laying on Eddie's bed while listening to some music, you didn't mind Eddie's music but you liked the older stuff you two heard as kids the best. Remembering how when no one was home you and Eddie would secretly play the records and dance around in the living room. Thankfully none of of the neighbours snitched.

You sat up slowly as you heard the keys jingle, groaning as you moved to turn the music off. Shuffling into the living room to meet Eddie with a smile. Your hair now down and dry again. It was now nearing dinner time.

"Hot dogs! Huh? What do you think?" Eddie smiled, you couldn't help but chuckle and nod. Moving to give him a hand with the bags.

"Sounds good. Also any luck on the clothes?" You asked as you started to unpack the groceries. Noticing a lot soup but said nothing, secretly hoping you wouldn't have to live off soup.

"Yeah. Not great but I think it will do. I asked the girl that was working there. I don't know shit about fashion for women" he chuckled.

"Or just about fashion in general" you teased before you felt a cold glass bottle on your back moments after Eddie fingers lifted your shirt.

"You asshole!" You half yelped as you turned to face the smirking man. You moved closer, Eddie craned down a little.

"Oh yeah? But isn't that why you love me?" He said, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey. You felt your cheeks flush just a little before turning away and finishing the unpacking.

"No" You stated bluntly as you folded the paper bag. You heard him chucked and open the bottle, the lid landing somewhere on the floor. Knowing you'd step on it at some point.

You glanced to watch him in their reflection momentarily, watching them take a swig before placing the bottle on the counter. You looked down when he caught your eyes. Moving behind you to place his hands on your hips.

"No? You don't love me? Or no I'm not an asshole?" He asked as he leaned down, his hands moving from your hips, around and over your stomach and wrapping around your waist instead. You sighed and looked away from both of your reflections.

You felt his lips graze your neck ever so gently, his breath was harsher than his lips before you felt him plant a kiss on your cool skin. His lips quite warm in comparison. You knew he felt you these up as a result. You cleared your throat and moved away to look through the clothes though the feeling of the kiss was burning into your skin.

You picked our an outfit for now and went to get changed, shutting the door firmly before you let your heaving chest finally move, fingers tracing the spot where Eddie had kissed. You swallowed hard and tried to push it away from your mind. You forced yourself to think about getting dressed and only that. The outfit was cute and simple. Enough for you. Though you had gotten used to wearing next to nothing, because you had to. In a strange way it was both nice and weird to have some damn decency.

The rest of the night was spent with decent hot dogs, a funny and flirty conversation with a lot of needy glances and a reluctant Goodnight. In all fairness you two were high as hell and a giggling mess. The Sunday was about the same except you slept most of it while Eddie was out and you cleaned up since the home desperately needed it. You didn't feel the need to go to your own trailer yet.

----

September 16th 1985 [Monday]

(Eddie attends school while you start showing your face around town. People were a little pale and the hushed voices started to grow. You had been on flyers, in news papers and on milk cartons for a long time. And suddenly you were back as if nothing had happened. Just older. Taller. More mean faced.)

You found yourself at the library trying to form some kind of sheet of references, skills and why you should be employed. Trying to write everything down neatly and clearly. Knowing it was a pain but had to be done if you were going to photocopy it. Eddie had given you some money thankfully to pay for the printing. An hour or so later you had your copies and set off on handing them out to anyone who had a "hiring" posted taped to their window. After handing out god knows how many you finally make it to the school, waiting for Eddie to head out. In your hand were some sour patch kids. Pulling a bit of a face at how sour they were. A lot of the people stared but you ignored them as you turned your back to Eddie to see who was shouting across the street, soon having an arm over your neck.

"Heeey. Gimme one?" He asked though his free hand was already waiting. You laughed a little and gave him a few before you started walking back. You had a casual conversation. Before you heard a unfamiliar and unwanted voice.

"Oh look the freak has got a girlfriend!" Jason, Eddie's enemy. The equivalent of your bully Francis. You groaned under your breath and turned around as you were lead to do so by Eddie.

"Not like you would know what that's like. Every girl you're with just uses you for popularity and fucks off when you call them a whore because there's another girl you want to shove your dick in. Yet the only freak and whore here is you" You blurted out before Eddie could even get a word in. You threw a sour patch kid at Jason's head and dragged Eddie away. You had learnt not to take bullshit like you had done when you were a kid.

"Impressive~" Eddie half complimented and half teased, you could tell he was surprised that you spoke up let alone were so fierce with your words. His hand that rested at your coarbome patted it in approval. Somehow that sense of approval was much appreciated.

The walk to the trailer park didn't take too long and by that point half of the sour patch kids had been eaten and the rest you two had thrown at each other like a couple of kids. Though you enjoyed bing able to be a kid again because in a way it was stripped away from you from both your parents and your kidnappers.

You stumbled into Eddie's place and ran to his bedroom and shut the door, squealing as you kept your back to the door to not let him in. Slightly regretting that you bet that he couldn't catch you in return for doing anything he wants. It wasn't very well thought out because the excited fear you felt running away had now caused you to be trapped in Eddie's room.

"You're stuck in there now! You'll either have time leave the door unattended to get out the window or open the door" Eddie handed you your options and the groaned loudly which earned a chuckle. You bolted for the window but half of you was out when Eddie grabbed you by your hips and yanked you back while you clung onto the outside.

"No! Noooo!" You whined through your giggles, your giggles making you weak enough for Eddie to pull you back through the window where you both landed on the floor, you in-between his legs and your back against his chest as you both were in a fit of laughter.

"Now you're mine!" Eddie claimed in a n evil voice, wrapping his arms around you to secure you in place. Tickling you a little before rested his head on your shoulder while you both caught your breath. You felt your cheeks redden with the feeling of his breath on your neck, they were quick and tickled a little. You were also very aware of his cool rings that were connected to your skin under your shirt. You felt Eddie shift behind you a bit, pulling himself closer into you. Adjusting their head where his eyelashes met your skin but you could tell their eyes were closed. You stayed like that for a while, your heart racing the entire time.

"...Eddie?" You asked in almost a whisper. Trying to turn to face him but stopped when his grip around your waist tightened. His mouth met your neck again, earning a gently gasp.

"You said anything right?" He repeated your words, softly, so softly against your skin. You paused before sighing.

"But not that. Just...kissing if you want...just nothing more" You stated, expecting him to be disappointed but his face buried deeper into your neck. He held you close as if you'd vanish if he let go.

"I'll take that..." He commented as one of his arms moved from around your waist so his fingers could gently grab your face, finger almost pinching at your skin as he turned your head toward his. Leaning in slowly, noses bumping into each other just a little before his lips graze your own. Both of you lightened breaths became a little heavier. Eddie leaned in further his lips barely touching yours but enough to kiss you, featherlight. Just as he moved in to kiss you the front door opened.

Eddie's group of friends, something called the Hell-Fire Club or some shit, stepped through the front door as it had been open.

"Yo Eddie? We need to start planning and getting ahead of that kid you know and get some good ideas in-" but the stopped when Eddie was clearly pissed off, having gotten uo and was now standing in the doorway. You, however were hiding away on Eddie's bed barely out of view. You were red and your hickey was quite clearly forming.

"Our meetings are on Wednesdays. And I was busy and you ruined it." Eddie stated with crossed arms and at first they were coming fused before they caught sight of you, you avoided eye contact, suddenly the dying plant outside was the most interesting thing around. You zoned out of the conversation but came back when Eddie pushed some hair from your face, you expect him to to kiss you then, he was so close, he was leaning closer but just as you were about to close your eyes he pulled away.

You were left feeling like a bit of a fool, even more so if you had actually closed your eyes. You swallowed soem saliva that had built up in your mouth in almost anticipation and want.

"I'll uh...go start on dinner" he stated and walked away, leaving you on the bed. Alone. Wanting him. You found yourself playing with your fingers, a fizzy feeling left over from his hickey on your neck. You relaxed down into the bed and curled up, you didn't know if it was weird gur you kind of enjoyed the smell of his pillows, they were fresh since you had changed them yesterday. But he had since slept on them and you could smell the cologne which overpowered the smokey smell but it was still there. You just buried your face into the pillow, imaging it was his chest you were laying on. It took a few moments to realise that acting this was was utterly pathetic. He was your best friend. Despite the kissing and the grabbing. It was all just fun and games. Right? Of course it was.

The two of you ate pretty much in silence other than the TV playing. Eddie finished uo particularly face and headed into his bedroom without much commentary. Just telling you he was going to nap or sleep early.

You decided to not share his bed that night. You just locked up and sat reading for a while before getting comfortable on the couch and falling asleep after about thirty minutes.

You wouldn't know but Eddie would come in a few hours later to check in on you, making sure you were tucked in before heading back to bed himself.

12th October 1985 [Saturday]

(Three weeks after you arrived at Eddie's place. Small time skip to move over the mundane and get used to staying at Eddie's.)

The past two weeks had been fun but awkward too, mainly because you and Eddie would get high and have great conversations that almost always led to a make out session but nothing more. Admittedly only stopping at kissing was getting to you but you didn't feel comfortable enough yet to go any further. You could tell it was starting to get to Eddie too, while sober he started to avoid any kind of physical touch with you, only you. Admittedly you got a bit healous when he was close with his friends; being all touchy feely in a friendly way and not even you got got anymore.

Saturday night came and after brooding all day you finally spoke up. Your leg bouncing under the table as Eddie clearly avoided your eyes.

"I think it would be better if I stayed in my own trailer from now on. You've been distant for over a week and I don't want to intrude in your personal space" you inform as you leaned your head on your hand, elbow on the table. Eddie looked over with a frown but his response was disappointing.

"Alright. I'll get the key" Was all he said before he stood and walked over to the kitchen drawer before pulling out some keys and handing them to you. With how quickly he moved you could have just assumed right then and there that he wanted you out now.

You sat there for a moment before you stood and grabbed your little amount of things and left, it was quite clear you were upset yet neither of you said a word. Your movements were clunky as you entered your trailer and turned on the lights, the thick feeling of emptiness and loneliness hit tou like a thrashing wave. It was only coming up to eight in the evening but it felt a lot later. You felt an extreme boredness as you sat alone, as if you were back in that room on the estate. You hated the silence but you knew Eddie needed his space, perhaps it would be good for you too.

It wasn't as if you had been totally honest with your feelings, unknowingly you had liked Eddie as a kid, the jealousy was something you recognised now as an adult looking back and now that you were with Eddie again, the Eddie that hadn't changed, not really, you found yourself in the same spot but now with adult wants and needs. You thought the making out would be fine, be enough but you didn't know if Eddie wanted sex and only sex or of he wanted more but to ask would mean admitting your feelings and making a fool of yourself. And to be distant was both painful yet easier. Perhaps for now anyway.

15th October 1985 [Tuesday]

Three days had passed since you last saw each other, you hadn't spoken or even got a glimpse of each other. You wondered if Eddie was as lonely as you or of he liked not having you around.

It got to about midnight and you had foolishly smoked a joint that Eddie had given you last week. You weren't as mind numbingly scared about asking something stupid. You dialled up his number, not daring enough to be face to face. You thought he wouldn't answer but your eyes were watching his trailer and you saw his shadow finally move toward the phone.

"Hello?" He asked, his voice was clear, you'd have thought he'd been smoking by now but apparently not. There was a linger silence before he was about to speak again but you spoke first.

"Hey...it's me." You admitted, admitted..? It felt like a confession of sorts, in some strange way.

"Oh..." was all you heard on the other end for a moment, something so simple yet it hurt. As if he was disappointed it was you on the other end.

""Oh?"" You repeated back to him, yet another lingering pause followed. You felt like an idiot for even calling. You had heard the rumours. He liked the pretty, popular girl. You forgot her names but it didn't matter.

"We're you expecting someone else? Or just hoping that it was anyone else?" You asked, your tone was a bit sarcastic but the pain showed through enough. You instantly regretted your choice in words and tone. You listened as you heard a sigh, a muttering of words.

"Why are you being like this?" That's what he had whispered, you weren't sure if you were supposed to hear that. But you had.

"I like you" You barely managed to get out as you heard the phone brush away from them and their breaths becoming distant as if they were about to hang up. There was a pause, you hated how many there were.

"...what?" The voice on the other end spoke faintly. You gulped, fearing you had made a mistake.

"I...like you, Eddie. But- I didn't know if you wanted sex or more than that and I was too scared to ask so I just kept...you at arms length but let you kiss me...I gave you mixed signals but....one minute you'd be kissing me and the next avoiding me..." You found yourself rambling a little.

"Just shut up for a minute Y/N...you like me?after all this time and just threw weeks together you're going to say you like me?" Well, if anything was going to make you feel like shit and invalidate your feelings, that would do it.

"Okay? And you're going to tell me you don't like me by the way you desperately beg to let you have me? That the way you kiss me is only for people you want to fuck? All the sweet nothings you whisper in my ear before you kiss me? That's all just because you wanna fuck? Is that it? Or are you in denial too?" You asked, almost spitting venom. He struck first this time. He hurt you with those words and you weren't going to let that slide. As much as you had just confused to being in denial, you were calling him out too.

The two of you stood in silence after that. And then the line went dead. You reluctantly put the phone down before heading to fo to the bathroom when Eddie opened your front door. You both just stared at each other for a minute.

"Ok. So you in denial. So are you? Aren't you? Huh? So you want me to admit it? Is that it? That I like my best friend? And then you reject me and you leave again? You disappear?" There was a desperate need in his voice, a fear too. You could almost see he was crying. His eyes searching yours for an answer. You sucked up all the anger and the guilt and embarrassment and walked over to Eddie. You cupped his face.

"Okay. I'll be the first to say it. Again. I like you Eddie Munson. I like you now and I always have. And if you like me then you better kiss me right now" You told him openly from the heart.

He grabbed you roughly and pulled you in for a deep yet soft kiss, as if everything he needed to say was put into that kiss then and there. You needed no other explanation. You both had been wanting each other yet were too scared to face one another. Your hands found his hair, your fingers tangled in his curls while you held each other close. When you both parted, your lips red and wet, Eddie pulled you in close.

"I wasn't lying when I said you were mine...so don't disappear" He mumbled a little. You laughed a little though it wasn't in making fun of him. You just remembered how he had said it at the time.

"I won't...I'm yours, Eddie. I'm yours." You replied softly. The rest of the evening you opened up to each other more and laughed at the awkwardness the two of you had been feeling about the entire thing. It was nice for the two of you to laugh at the situation rather than bicker about it. And Eddie cleared up that he had been dealing to Chrissy as that was the reason he had been close with her. Though you'd still feel jealous, she was damn pretty.

Well the rest of the story goes that you got a job at photo printing shop, the work was easy and you got discounts, great for pictures of you and Eddie and Eddie and his club for posters. Either way someone you knew was going to get a good deal on too many pictures. You and Eddie spend most nights trying to make decent meals while his records play in the background and then he tries to teach you D&D but to no avail. You find out the talkative kid is Dustin and you love watching how he and Eddie are so enthusiastic about the game even if you don't understand it. The rest of the group seem nice too. You've been able to convince Eddie to learn how to dance with you as long as you build a character with him. You're also currently studying with a retired tutor who was kind enough to reach out so that you you improve your grades and get better work but until then, currently, life is good.

- Smut section >:)) - (you don't have to read obvi I'm also bad at this but oh well)

Top/Dom Eddie - bottom/sub fem reader

(Car sex. You're riding him. He's dirty talking, he's degrading and praising you. Unprotected sex. Doesn't pull out.)

You whine as you shifted in you seat, Eddie had been teasing you all afternoon, whispering dirty words in your ear and then had the audacity to leave you in the car to have a cigarette. It wasn't yours or Eddie's car so no smoking inside allowed. Though the car looked like it eas falling apart anyway. You watched him while his gaze was over at the gorgeous view, that wasn't the view you wanted right now. You huffed and crossed your leg over the other, thighs squeezing together which made your area twitch a little. You heard the door open ans Eddie climb into the drivers side, the door slamming shut not long after.

"What's wrong?" He dared to ask as if he didn't know and wasn't the cause. You shot him a glare though that smirk was already waiting for you.

"Oh yeah. As if tou don't know. Teasing me all afternoon, driving all the way out here where there is no one just to ignore me?" You state with an annoyed tone. Though when it came to intimate stuff you knew better than to talk back. Yet here you were.

"You better watch your tone or you won't be getting what you want" Eddie's voice lowered and more serious look washed over his face. You kept your mouth shut but the annoyed look never left. And for nearly ten minutes you two sat in silence while your need grew, damn even his scent, that smokey cologne mixed smell was driving you inside.

"Are you done sulking? Do you want me to make you feel good?" Eddie finally spoke as he grabbed your face to make you look at him. After a moment you sighed and nodded. He raised a brow momentarily as a silent question if you were sure about not sulking anymore. Your frown turned into a pout as your need started to show. Earning a light chuckle.

"Alright, Sweetheart. Get to work" he stated and let go. Leaving you as you undone his belt, buttons and the zip. He lifted his ass up so you could pull his jeans down a little, giving you better access to his boxers, his semi-hard cock springing out gently as you pull his boxers down a but too. Eddie was a pretty boy. He had a dick to match. You flicked your tongue over the tip, earning a groan and tight hand in your hair. You take all of him slowly until he reaches down with his free hand to feel his cock in your throat.

"Such a little whore for me, are you Y/N? You look so pretty taking all of me like a good girl" He purrs before a nudge if his hand urges you to bob your head, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat as you try not to gag much and then you start to hear him moan and whine.

"Fuck- so good for me baby~ just like that. Use your dirty little mouth, oh yeah-" he moaned out moving your head by his own command now. You could tell he was starting to get a little despite. Leaving you to whine loudly.

"Awe, what? Worried I'll cum and you won't be able to have this dick in your tight pussy?" He asked as he looked down at you. Your eyes confirmed his question. You were sneaked through, the skirt sliding up over your lower back as you leaned down.

"Well you've been such a good girl taking my cock that I'll be nice." He said softly now, pulling your head away before kissing you roughly.

"You're my pretty girl. So beautiful. Your body is begging for me, isn't it?" He asked and you nodded eagerly. The tears in your eyes starting to fall from your desperate ans growing need.

"Speak. Tell me how much you want my cock inside of you" he asked, his voice so soft, so gently while he barked his commands.

"I want it so bad- please Eddie! Please!I want it deep inside me" You pleaded, gripping his thigh a little as you waited for permission.

He smiled and caressed your cheek, his calloused thumbs wiping away your tears, planting an soft kiss on your forehead.

"Good girl. Come and sit." He instructed as he patted his lap. Watching as you straddled him, his hands immediately moving to your waist for support. One hand slipped down to your cunt, his lips to your neck as he whined into your skin.

"So wet down there. Already so ruined for me. So desperate for my dick, aren't you?" He said as he brought his lips up to you ear to whisper. He massaged your clothes through the fabric of your panties, you rocked your hips into his fingers.

"Y-Yes! I want it so badly" You cry out while moaning softly. His synced movement dragging you closer. He suddenly pulled his fingers away leaving you a whimpering mess.

"Patience, Sweetheart. Patience." He cooed as he hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, pulling them down while you used his shoulders to climb out of them. You moaned lightly as you felt Eddie's tip brush against your folds.

"Shh shh that's it. Guide my cock into that pretty little pussy of yours" he said in raspy voice. You did as you were told with no hesitation but didn't move fast, sinking down slowly until Eddie's hands moved to your hips and slammed you down, causing you to moan loudly.

His brown curls clung to his face as now you studied him, his bottom lip held under his teeth while to rocked your hips gently. You noticed how his gorgeous brown eyes rolled back and his ringed fingers gripped onto your hips, nails digging in a bit.

"Just like that. Oh fuck-!" He whined, as much as you loved having Eddie be control, you loved to hear him whine for you as much as he loved to hear you whine for him. Just hearing those whimpers was enough to make the walls of your pussy tightened around him causing him to moan from his lower throat.

Your hands on his shoulders for support you rocked your hips faster, not even bothering to hide your whore ish moans anymore ams better yet Eddie didn't hold back his whines and whimpers, only making your pussy pull his cock in deeper. The car was shaking ans creaking even as another car drove by.

"That's it. That's it! Yes baby- rock your hips. Does my cock feel so good? So deep inside you?" He asked as his hands guided your movements.

"S-So good, Eddie! It's so deep" You moaned before leaning in and burying your face into his neck. He forced your hips to move faster, slamming down into his cock a few times too. The both of you in pure ecstasy, the world around you melting as you were only away of each other.

He move your head to be able to kiss you, so lovingly as if he wasn't guiding your hips to point into him the man looked like an angel yet his actions were that of a devil. You pulled away to hide your face as you moaned loudly, your cream covering his thick cock,but he didn't stop not until you were leaning back on the dash and he was thrusting into you, smashing into you.

"So good for me baby. Thats it. Let me hear your voice. Fuck! You're taking me so well. Good girl~" He praised as he finished into you, thrusting a few more time as some quiet, breathy moans still slipped form Eddie's lips. He pulled out slowly, your mix dripping onto the car floor as he rubbed his tip over your sensitive clit.

"Such a mess we've made. Harrington doesn't have to know" he smirked and the fun didn't end there.

[covenofwives]

Too Warm

Its too warm on the DSMP. Far too warm. Dream and George try to entertain themselves and think about anything other than how warm it. Luckily they have a perfect distraction. DreamXD apparently doesn't do well in the heat either, but it leads to a very adorable discovery.

Surprise! Kind of out of the blue with this fic but I just had to do it. This fic is based on the days of MELTING heat we've had here and this idea popped into my head. Sorry it took so long to get out though, this should have just been a quick lil fic but life got in the way. Hopefully within the coming month i will have more lil fics like this out and some AU stuff out.

Thank you all for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

---

It was a warm, close day on the DSMP. There was no breeze to give any relief so people were trying to cool off throughout the day. Some took to small pools of water, others relaxed in any shady area they could find.

Dream and George had taken to cooling off in the shades of the forest. They hunted for a while, before they decided it was far too warm for such things. They tried to fill out their day with activities but it all ended with them laid out on the grass under the leaves, trying to will their bodies to cool off. Dream hadn’t even taken his usual green hoodie/cloak for the day, leaving him in just his dark grey top.

The two were in a debate whether to go back to George’s home when suddenly the blades of grass behind the two shifted. They shuddered before parting, making way for new grass that seemingly appeared. This grass was a different tinge of green and the trees behind the forest seemed to bend and twist, shadowing over a path deeper in.

Dream and George looked at one another before quickly scrambling up and running down the shadowed path.

The two had become well known to DreamXD’s glade and the entrance to it whenever it appeared to them. Usually it came when the boys were bored, or one of them greatly needed him. And sometimes, when XD was in a good mood, he’d show the two things they’d never seen before.

But if Dream and George were hoping for excitement or something fun, their hopes were dashed. The heat was just the same as anywhere else, though the surrounding trees of the glade offered more shade at least. The sun was starting to dip in the sky, giving it a nice colour over the tops of the trees and in the middle of it all, DreamXD laid out on the grassy terrain. His cloak was off and his arms were crossed over his face, as though trying to shield himself from the rays of the sun. It didn’t seem to be working because not even a second later, XD reshuffled his arms, setting them back over his face and giving out a huff.

It felt like the two had stumbled upon the God on their private time, but they knew the glade wouldn’t appear to them if XD didn’t want it to.

“You alright, XD?” Dream called out as the two walked over. The tall God hummed in some form of greeting and confirmation.

“I hate being warm.” XD’s voice slurred with a low rumble.

“I’m surprised the glade is warm.” George commented as he aired out his t-shirt.

XD gave a grunt in response. Dream came up and sat by XD’s right side and George on his left. The God’s second set of arms were laid at his sides, which George took interest in.

The brunette gazed at XD’s arms, specifically the part covered by his long gloves. He peered through his goggles before pushing them up and out his eyes, sitting them on his head. Dream was about to ask what George saw until George spoke.

“XD. Can I take off your arm warmer?”

XD nodded slowly and George got to work, pulling down the black material until XD’s arm was bare. By then Dream had seen what had taken George’s interest.

“Freckles…?” Dream wondered allowed, eyes widening to the small pale brown speckles along his siblings arm.

“You have freckles?!” George wondered with much more excitement.

XD shuffled the arms crossed over their face up and out of the way. They still had their mask on, but they tilted their head down ever so slightly to their left lower arm as if inspecting it.

“Hmm…sometimes.” XD shuffled and rearranged himself. “When it’s sunny I sometimes get freckly.”

“Like Dream! He gets more freckly when the sun is out.” George pointed out.

Dream’s cheeks flushed slightly on the attention but of course he couldn’t say anything against it. Even today his freckles were more pronounced against his skin, but he’d never known XD to have them. Then again he’d never seen XD in the sun much.

“What about your face? Does it have freckles?” George asked.

XD paused for a moment before unfolding one of his arms and moving his mask of stars off his face. His eyes were still covered by his crossed over bandages but just under them, dotted along his cheeks and down his nose, were small freckles matching the ones on his arm.

“I didn’t know you got freckly.” Dream said. He had been looking at XD’s lower arms by his side, spotting the little freckles that were hiding under the arm warmers.

“I don’t go in the sun much.” XD gave a slow shrug. “Being warm makes me sleepy.”

George nodded in agreement while his attention was fully focused onto the freckles dusting over XD’s face. The most the tall God would ever show of their face was usually just their mouth down so George was taking in every detail he could as usual. It was hard though when he kept getting distracted by the freckles. On Dream they were normal, something he always had but to see them on someone like XD seemed like a rare oddity, something to be recorded down.

His attention was taken, for a moment, as he saw the corners of XD’s lips tilt up with a light snort.

“Dream…” XD’s voice was low, in warning.

George looked over to see Dream had removed the covering on XD’s other arm, looking at the freckles there too. But his finger was on the arm, slowly tracing over the most pronounced freckles, making an invisible pattern.

Dream’s eyes flicked to XD, then he looked up though his lashes to George. A slow grin grew over Dream’s lips and he carried on, tracing his finger down over XD’s wrist and to the back of their hand.

George caught on immediately, holding back his own grin as he placed his finger softly over a few freckles.

“George…” XD’s voice came out in the same low warning tone, and George had to physically bite back his giggle.

“W-What? I’m not doing anything.”

“I knohow what you two ahare up too.”

“Your voice is a little wobbly there, XD. What’s wrong?”

“Dreheaham!”

Dream’s fingers fluttered down to trace some more shapes into the back of XD’s hand. The freckles were more pronounced there, which was weird when the two thought of it because that area was mostly covered by the gloves, but they weren’t going to question a blessing.

Dream traced down over the knuckle on XD’s first finger, and gave a small chuckle as he saw the finger twitch.

“Dreheheaham…” XD’s voice came out in breathy laughter. The slow drawl in his voice carried to his laugh, making it slow and warm. “Yohou’re plahaying a-Aha! G-Geheohorge!”

Dream looked up to see George copying his movements, but instead he was drawing a very tight swirl onto the back of XD’s hand. When his fingers brushed along the knuckles, XD’s fingers wiggled and tapped his claws along the ground.

“Yohou twoho ahare ihin trohouble…” XD chuckled.

“Why don’t you stop us?”

It was less of a challenge and more of a genuine question from George. One that XD seemed to have no response to. They pursed their lips with a smile, tilting their head away, even though the bandages covered any embarrassment from eye contact.

The head tilt seemed to spark an idea in George and he grinned before speaking. “I think your freckles make your skin more tickly.”

“Thehey’re nohohot t-tihihickly!” XD giggled.

“What about the freckles on your face, do you think your face is really ticklish now?” George asked.

The question took XD by surprised, as it had Dream as well. The God shuffled his arms above his head to slightly hide his face. His grin still poked out from under his arms though, making it very unconvincing when he shook his head.

“N-N-Nohoho…”

“Won’t know till we try though, huh?” Dream quickly pointed out, immediately catching onto George’s plan. His fingers still lightly grazed along the skin of his sibling’s arms. Their arm twitched and fingers tapped their claws along the ground but they never pulled away, or stopped the two from continuing. They just lay there, in a giggly puddle and badly trying to deny it.

“M-Mihiy fahace ihis n-noho mohohore tihihicklish…”

“So you admit it’s ticklish!”

XD’s face almost split into a wide grin, quickly hiding in their arms. “N-NoHOhohOHOho!”

“Oh XDeeeee~” George cooed. “Is your face so tick-tick-tickly you can’t stand the thought of it being tickled?”

“S-Stohohohop!” XD’s arms covered his face completely.

Dream’s eyes wandered up XD’s arms to his shoulders, noticing the freckles along the god’s shoulder and disappearing down his back. “What about your back?” Dream half thought aloud. “Is your back all freckly?”

XD gave a half squeak half chirp, which made them giggle more. “M-Mahaybe…”

“Mines gets freckly.” Dream nodded with his thought. “Can we see?”

Dream could see the God’s muscles relax. His arms eased from tensing and he gave a slow nod.

George and Dream backed off a little, allowing XD to unfold their arms and turn around to lay on their front. They giggled slightly as both Dream and George gasped.

“You have so many on your back!” George squealed with his delight as he already poked his fingers and traced along the scattered brown dots.

XD was already giggling to the pokes. “M-Mihihiy b-bahack is m-moHOHOhore expohohosed!” He tried explaining.

“XD can you feel this?”

There was a pause between George’s word and the poke that landed softly onto XD’s shoulder blade. The blonde God jumped with a small squeak.

 “Y-yehehes!”

George looked up to Dream, holding back his giggle as Dream grinned.

“Can you feel this?” Dream asked, poking down into the centre of XD’s back and watching his sibling arch his back with a squeak.

“Y-Yohou knohohow I cahahan!”

Dream and George kept their hands hovering over XD’s back, close enough that XD could definitely feel it. Dream could see the God’s skin jumping and shuffling under the almost attention.

“G-Guhuysss…?”

A silent signal passed between the two, and they pounced; both lowered their hands onto XD’s back. George tapped over the freckles, prodding them so lightly like he was softly working over a keyboard and wiggling his fingers every now . Dream’s fingers skittered along the middle of XD’s upper back, tracing over multiple freckles littered between XD’s shoulder blades

XD broke out into a mix of squeaks, giggles and chirps. They shuffled over the soft grass, wriggling from side to side but never once actually moving out of Dream and George’s reach. Their top arms folded under their head while their bottom set laid out, lazily gripping into the grass whenever Dream or George would hit a bad spot.

“You just have so many freckles back here, XD.” Dream cooed. “It’s impossible to count them all.”

Between the chirps and giggling, XD muffled into his arms. “Y-Yohou’re nohohot cohohounting th-thehem!”

“Well I’m trying to.” George huffed. “But Dream’s fingers keep getting in my way, and I have to start over again.”

XD hid further into his arms. “Yohohou lihihahar!”

George gave a mocking gasp to the accusation. XD knew it was all in good fun but grew tense when the tickling suddenly stopped and the two were silent. XD was tempted to pull himself up from his arms, but he knew just how red his face was and how much his freckles would stand out.

The tall God opened his mouth to call out to the two, but before any words could form a sudden laugh burst from his chest and surprised him, pulling him up out his arms and arching his back as Dream and George had both leaned down and pressed raspberries over his back.

“NahaAHAHahaAHA!! WHAHAHAHAHAT!”

One got him right between his shoulder blades while the other was on his lower back. The raspberries felt like they lasted forever, and even as they did fade out they were replaced by smaller faster ones, spread out all along his back in any space Dream or George could catch.

“STAHAHAHAP! P-PLEHEheheahAHAHSE! N-NOHOHO mohoHOHORE!”

Dream and George showed mercy. They stopped with the raspberries though their hands came back in to rub soothing circles along XD’s back, chasing away the ghostly tickles and melting him more into grass.

“You alright, XD?” Dream asked, moving himself up higher to be closer to XD’s head.

“He’s fine!” George shrugged off. “This is nothing compared to what he puts us through. Right XD?”

The God was still silent and they had grown still. Dream and George only started to get a little worried before there was movement again.

Suddenly XD turned himself over onto his back again and his arms launched out, engulfing both men into his sides.

“W-Wahait! Wahahit!”

“EHEX DEHE! NOoHOho!”

Both panicked at the assumed counter-attack, but XD’s hands weren’t tickling them. They were soothing them. The God was running his clawed fingers through the twos hair as his lower arms rubbed at their sides. His voice came out in barely a whisper, almost hushing them.

“Noho more t-tihickles…” XD mumbled. It was hard to tell if it was a plea, or a promise. Some of the giggles still lingered in his words, but he took in a breath, softly sighing it out and spoke again. “I’m too tired now…”

“W-Wehe’re not!” George exclaimed though he didn’t try to escape anymore.

Dream nodded in a half agreement with his frined. As the day was going on, the sun setting and the warmth getting to him again he was getting sleepier. But he was filled with a soft giddy type of energy. A certain mischief he wanted to continue. He suspected George felt the same. He could see the tell-tale signs of George’s slow blinks, and the red mushroom blush along his cheeks were fading away slowly as the minutes went by. Always an indicator to George’s mood.

“Yes you are.” XD said. “It’s time to sleep. Or a nap at least.”

“We’re not toddlers.” George huffed.

“I’m not tired.” Dream added though his voice didn’t sound as alert as he would have liked it to.

XD smiled. “Just try.” They encouraged.

It was hard to keep still when giddiness ran through the two, but Dream and George obliged to XD’s wishes. Somewhat. They shuffled to get comfortable and moved about but eventually they stilled and XD feel into a calm moment of bliss. His thoughts were drifting further and further away from him, all he had to focus on was the soft grass under him and the gentle warmth of the two pressed in his side. It was the perfect way to fall asleep. If the two could just keep still.

DreamXD felt the two shuffle at his sides again and gave a long exaggerated sigh.

[havenoffandoms]

Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it! 

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?” 

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road. 

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level. 

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber. 

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick. 

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months. 

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.” 

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer. 

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens. 

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden. 

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.” 

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…” 

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off. 

“You mean that?” 

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.” 

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again.  Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent. 

Lambert can live with that, he thinks. 

Request a prompt.

[mercy-burning]

Wine Drunk - BLURB

@subspencer / @wheelsup and I briefly discussed this concept Thursday night and I... I just had to. I’m obsessed. I was going to post it later tonight, but I got impatient, so enjoy 😂😘

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: SPICY FLUFF Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy making out, second base Word Count: 1.3k

MASTERLIST

Spencer rarely drank, so you were actually quite surprised to see him take you up on your offer to 'watch movies and get drunk'.

Work that week had been rather headache-inducing, more so than usual, so you'd only said it as a joke to emphasize how draining the week had been. And surprisingly, Spencer agreed. In all honesty you had been prepared for him to just laugh and offer lots of snacks instead, movie nights actually pretty common for the both of you after a long work week. But his long sigh followed by agreement and how he could actually really use a drink or two made you happy.

It gave you an excuse to break out the new bottle of blackberry merlot you'd been dying to try since getting it as a Christmas gift from your sister a few months back. It was currently sitting in the fridge, waiting to be cracked open and enjoyed, and honestly you couldn't think of a better time to use it.

You went into the bedroom to change as Spencer made his way to your bathroom, using clothes from his go-bag to change as well. By the time you walked out in green and black plaid pajama bottoms and a loose grey tee shirt, hair thrown up in a ponytail, he was already on the couch, adorning a similar look— minus the ponytail. You laughed at the thought, reminiscing over when his hair was way longer, when you'd ask constantly to braid his hair.

You grabbed the wine from the fridge and two wine glasses from the cupboard before meeting him in the living room as he turned the TV on and scrolled through the channels until he found the Old Western movie channel.

"Why Westerns?" you asked, popping the wine open and starting to pour the first glass.

"Eh, it's something different. Besides, I think our focus will stray more towards getting drunk than actually paying attention, so..."

You laughed, handing him the first glass and pouring another for yourself. "Good assumption." Then you set the bottle back on the coffee table, leaned back, and held up your glass. "To... John Wayne."

Spencer smirked, amused, raising his glass all the same. "I don't think John Wayne is in this movie..."

"I don't care."

The two of you clinked glasses and took the first sips, settling back to your respective sides of the couch. It wasn't a long couch, so even though you were on opposite sides you could greatly feel body warmth radiating from one another. It was something you both became hyper-aware of the more you drank, which led to more drinking— something to do to keep your hands and mouths busy in an attempt to prevent any confessions or accidental touches.

The obvious sexual attraction you and Spencer felt towards one another only ever came out in the rare occasions where you were alone like that, close enough to touch and uninterrupted by any outside forces. But you'd repressed all of it, nervous for one thing due to your close friendship and fear of dismantling what you'd built from it. And for another, the both of you were so extremely bad at verbalizing romantic feelings in general that you didn't want to take any chances.

As the movie droned on, your wine glasses kept emptying, then re-filling until the entire bottle was gone, and every time you reached over to put it back on the table, you came back closer to Spencer. And now, your relaxed, wine-drunk brain was swimming as you leaned your body into his, curling up at his side and slowly resting your head on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but notice how good he smelled. You couldn't place what it was, some type of cologne maybe, or just his laundry soap, but it smelled so incredibly like him that you found yourself breathing him in, taking deep breaths and trying to inhale as much of it as possible.

But the more your nose searched for his smell, the closer it got to his skin, until it gently nudged the underside of his jaw, and you could slightly feel his throat as he swallowed. The movement didn't deter you, however, from dreaming about what it would be like to kiss the source of movement... To feel his Adams apple move as you traced it with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of his skin and feeling the vibrations as he moaned.

In your wine-drunk state, that thought is what spurred you forward, softly dragging your nose up his jawline as your eyes flicked up to catch him staring down at you. God, he was pretty...

But he seemed to be just as intrigued with the idea of tasting you as you were with him, because the moment your eyes locked, his flicked down to your lips before lingering there. You both moved closer and closer until your eyes were both inevitably closed, patiently waiting for something that was sure to feel like a dream.

The second Spencer's lips grazed yours, you sighed, letting him take as much of you as he wanted. The kiss was sweet, sure, but it wasn't until his lips parted and came back a little stronger, giving you more to taste, that you realized it wasn't actually a dream. He tasted of wine, and you knew you did, too. It was sweet and wet and bitter all at the same time, and it only got stronger the longer you reciprocated his actions.

The first time your tongues glided over each other, you both slumped forward, letting the feeling take over. Your kisses became long and drawn out, and a little uncoordinated due to your drunken haze, but that made it all the better— You didn't have the time to think or care about the imperfections of your first kiss. Rather, you lost yourself in the moment, glad to be this close to someone you loved and longed for all these years.

And that's why you didn't care that you were getting sloppy. If anything, the wetness of your kisses only added to the intensity of it all. You gave each other everything you had, offering yourselves to one another through kisses like you'd never been able to with words.

When his hand came up to cradle your face, butterflies swarmed your belly and up through your chest. You both adjusted a little, giving him the clearance to tilt his head and allow you access to deeper kisses. This in turn, of course, made you feral for more, a long sigh escaping as you pushed yourself into him and longed to get closer.

Spencer opened his mouth to you, and the opportunity couldn't have been more clear. So you took his tongue between your lips and sucked on it, eliciting a loud, throaty groan from him that sent another wave of heat through your body. You let his tongue go with a soft pop and smiled against his lips, pecking him a few times before resting your hands on his chest. "You liked that, huh?"

"Mhm," he offered in return, right before kissing you again.

You didn't want to stop.

And for hours, you didn't. After twenty more minutes of just making out, his thumb found its way into your mouth, and you whimpered around it as you looked him in the eyes and sucked on it for another two minutes.

And then eventually, his hand found its way up your shirt. He breathily explained that he didn't want to take advantage of you, and you laughed, taking his wrist and sliding his hand higher until it cupped your breast, telling him through slurred syllables, "It's okay. You can touch me... I want you to..."

You cycled through another movie and a half, his hands kneading your breasts gently while yours tugged at his hair, before you finally tired, your kisses slowing significantly until, finally, you rested with your foreheads pressed together.

Still a little hazy from the wine, though, you smiled, hearing him whisper, "I love you," before dozing off, John Wayne in a shootout on the screen in front of you.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore

TAGS NOT WORKING: @takeyourleap-of-faith

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get to it!

[hobbitsnapes]

YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

[smelted-applejuice]

hii! can you do a one shot with buck where you’re being hit on by some guys and they’re making you uncomfy and he’s there to defend you?

Pairings; Evan 'Buck' Buckley x Reader Pronouns; She/Her Desc; All it takes is a few words and a nice grip to scare the others away. TW; MENTIONED OF ALCOHOL, A TOUCHY STRANGER, & HARASSMENT.

Enjoy my luv!!! <3 -[YourName] was not a direct member of the 118 family, she was a dependent. [YourName] would be Buck’s fiancée of two years, together for a total of three. Buck and [YourName] met back in college before he got kicked out, remaining in contact through letters. [YourName]’s mother never enjoyed the fact you were contacting such a reckless man, but she couldn’t help but find it hot in a way. 

[YourName] and Buck got together a few months after Abby had officially left him and you had moved to California, it was an odd and confusing time at first. Buck and [YourName] didn’t know what they were for months, yeah they went on a few dates and would find themselves in each other’s bed, but it meant nothing at first. They didn’t like how ‘Friends with Benefits’ fit them, but it was exactly what they were. 

Eventually, the two sat down on [YourName]’s couch and had a long conversation on what they were. By its end, [YourName] could call Buck her boyfriend and Buck could call [YourName] his girlfriend. Announcing who you were to the 118 family wasn’t large, but it wasn’t every day that Buck came bearing good news of a new partner, so they celebrated. 

Tonight’s celebration though was the fact [YourName] and Buck had finally placed a wedding date. It was all Eddie’s idea to go out and get a few drinks, Christopher would be occupied for the night with Anna, so it was perfect for the time being. In the beginning, it was perfect, everyone had a table, and karaoke was going on in the background, but drinks and karaoke could only go but so far. “I’m gonna go get more drinks” [YourName] said leaning over to Buck, “Alright, careful out there tiger” he jokingly replied placing a gentle kiss against your cheekbone. [YourName] chuckled and shook her head, grabbing their glasses and heading to the bar where she patiently waited for her next round of drinks to be made. [YourName] smiled toward the bartender before looking around, accidentally making eye contact with a brunette with brown eyes. [YourName] could tell it was going to be trouble from the moment he started making his way over. The brown-haired male smugly placed his arm against the bar, failing horribly to be sly with it as he fell the first time. “How can I help you, sir?” [YourName] asked placing her customer service voice on, “Nothing much, you could come home with me or come sit your pretty ass in my lap” the male said. He smelt of alcohol and had obviously been here longer than you had been with the 118. [YourName] wasn’t taken too aback, but his comment was still off-hand and totally unacceptable. [YourName] was ready to decline the male, but instead, he decided to place his hand against her hip and slide down. [YourName]’s drinks were ready, but she wasn’t, so she knocked his hands away with complete shock. “You disgusting man child!” [YourName] said obviously offended, the dude looked confused- as if every female loved to be grabbed in that way by a stranger. “Hey, Babe, where’s the… drinks?” Buck said trailing his words off into nothingness when he noticed the situation his fiancée was in. “Woah, Woah, Woah, what’s happening here buddy?” He asked placing a hand against [YourName]’s shoulder, which she quickly took leaning into his touch. “So you’re gonna let this show-boy touch you but not me? Now I see you have a type.” He slurred, sizing Buck up as if it would be a fair fight in the first place. “No, Buddy, I’m just her fiance,” Buck said placing a hand gently against [YourName]’s waste, so much softer than the stranger had done moments prior, “I think we’re done here.” Buck finished leading [YourName] away totally forgetting the drinks. Once back at the table, Chimney looked over and made a shocked noise. “Where did the drinks go, guys?” He asked, it was the whole reason [YourName] had gotten up ten minutes ago. [YourName] and Buck looked over at each other in surprise had forgotten about the drinks. Once they looked at where they once were moments prior, finding the stranger absolutely going ham on their already bought drinks. [YourName] and Buck sighed and shook their head, “Lemme go buy more, these ones are on me [YourName] said patting her hand against the table and leaving with Buck to buy more drinks.