#and scream) has now been in my life nearly as long as my dad was… FUCK THAT

[fingertipsmp3]

Gotta love those realisations that cause you to stand stock-still in your bathroom and take a long shuddering breath

[p-h-a-n-t-a]

Nimona was the first piece of media i found after realizing i was nonbinary that spoke to me, i read the webcomic every wedsneday in my history class in 7th grade. Middle school was hard for me because i was one of two kids in my whole grade that was out as some form of queer (pan, i didnt come out as nb until high school) and i lost a lot of friends from it. But also from just being "weird." I tried to come out to my dad at one point and heard nearly the same line balister says to nimona in the new movie "wouldnt it be easier to be a girl?"

I am now 21, working in a library where i see kids gravitate more and more towards graphic novels and we have the nimona graphic novel on our shelves, and i have waited so long to watch the movie, that when i finally watched it, i could not believe it was not just speaking to me, but screaming to me. Im a nonbinary individual that loves men in a queer way, and yet has been a weird little girl outcast for things other people did not understand. I have seen grown adults attack children online for not being straight or cis, and seen them say it is under the guise of protecting their kids. In the time between now and reading the webcomic in my history class, i have felt so many different ways about my identity and my existence, and holy shit does the nimona movie speak to me. In almost every stage of my life.

N D Stevenson, and all the people who made this movie survive and be possible, you were able to reach into the core of my being and make me feel just as seen as i first did when i laughed about shark boobs in a middle school computer lab. Thank you so much!!

[luveline]

thought of a cute eddie and roan request!! since it’s almost summer time they go to the pool or beach?? roans having a blast

thank you!! dad!eddie takes you and his baby for a trip to the beach (lake)!! this is when they haven't been together as long and roan is younger!! dad eddie x fem!reader ♥︎ 3k

Eddie's daughter is nearly five years old, about 3ft 5in, and weighs less than fifty pounds. She has slightly chubby cheeks, a huge smile, and she has never been this excited in her life. 

"I swear I've taken her on vacation before," Eddie says, his eyes moving between the road, the side of your face, and Roan's joyous expression in the rear view mirror almost frantically. 

You push your sunglasses up your nose. "I believe you. I've seen the photos, Edward." 

He snorts. "You know that's not my name." 

"But it makes derision much funnier to call you something formal."

"You usually go with Munson." 

"I'm feeling festive today, it's such a good day." 

Roan agrees from the back with a small shout. 

You turn in your seat before Eddie can, eyes creased with affection when you see her again. Roan is in her best summer dress with her hair braided back out of her face, ending before her ears so her curls can take centre stage. She's got her delicate blue cardigan on, and a sandwich in her hands. You've been trying to break the long drive into smaller bits for her with snacks and songs, and it's worked thus far. 

"Do you want another sandwich, baby?" you ask, clicking open the the tupperware in your lap. "We've only got PB and J left, Eds. Can I give her that? I don't wanna ruin her dress." 

"If she wants it," he says, shrugging. His expression is cut short as he turns the wheel sharply to the side. "Woah! Sorry, ladies, I almost missed the turn. What a loser."

You tear Roan's sandwich into a smaller one and hand it back through the seats. "Try not to get it on your dress, princess, it's so pretty," you plead. 

"I won't," she says. As soon as you hand her the sandwich she drops it on her skirts. She's just old enough to understand what's happened, and giggles like she thinks she's about to be told off. 

You've seen Eddie do it enough times. Roan drops a crust or spills a drink and Eddie pretends to be cross, eyebrows drawn together in an unconvincing glare. "Roan," he always says, and if he can reach he chucks her under the chin with his knuckle, "how dare you. You know accidents aren't allowed." 

It warms your heart that her reaction to a potential chastisement is laughter. 

Roan has firmly passed baby stage: she doesn't look like a big baby, she looks like a very small child, with deceptively long arms and legs. She waves one leg toward you and says in her high-pitched, sometimes illegible voice, "My shoe's coming off." 

Her shoe isn't coming off, but the buckle around her ankle has come undone. 

"Oh no," you dote, leaning through the two front seats of Eddie's car to help. "What happened? You're too happy, babe, all your dancing must've wiggled the buckle free."

"I'm too happy," she agrees, "we're going to the beach now." 

"We're nearly there," Eddie says. 

Indiana Beach is an amusement park on Lake Shafer ninety miles away from Indianapolis, which is a good eighty miles from Hawkins. If you were to draw this journey on a map, it would look like the hands of a clock at three thirty, or a 'Y' without one of its eyes. With Eddie's cautious driving but not much traffic, it had taken you guys nearly three hours from the time you set off from his trailer at seven in the morning to now. It's an aching amount of time to confine a child, and Roan hasn't slept a wink, so her happy attitude is miraculous and perhaps precarious. 

Which is to say, you smother her in love and hope it will keep her from becoming too agitated. You and Eddie have already discussed the possibilities of her behaviour — if she started a screaming crying tantrum as she sometimes does, Eddie would pull over and you'd climb in the back. If your company didn't help, he'd pull over again and you'd take a break wherever you were. If she still didn't improve, you'd think about going home. The point of the trip is for Roan to have fun.

You can see the Galaxi from a mile away, a huge curling roller coaster on the Indiana Beach pier. Eddie starts grinning, really smiling, the kind you don't get to see very often. He smiled like that when he asked you to be his girlfriend outside of the Hawk movie theatre, and he smiled worse when you told him you loved him for the first time, your hand pressed against his chest and your face hiding in the crook of his neck. 

"Ro!" he says loudly, turning onto a side street in search of the parking lot, "look, baby! Can you see the lake? The beach? It's so sunny, oh my goodness." 

His hand reaches across for you. He squeezes your leg roughly, and it aches in the best way, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your thigh. You can't help laughing, pleasantly startled by his obvious joy. 

Roan starts talking and you're sorry but you're not an expert in her warbling yet, not when she's speaking a mile a minute. You catch "beach," and "sunshine," and "daddy!" but that's about it. 

He drives into a ticket parking lot a fifteen minute walk from the pier and finds a space with ease. You quickly undo your belt and get out, stretching your arms behind your back and leaning forward to roll your neck out. You're sore from all the back and forth, attention split between Eddie and Roan for the last three hours. 

Eddie gets out on the other side, and he should get Roan's stroller first, but it was never going to happen. He opens Roan's door and the excited stream of chatter increases between the both of them. You come around the back of the car and watch him pull her out of her car seat, fussing over her skirts and her hair and her tiny shoes. He makes one of those heaving dad groans when he picks her up, one arm skewed under her butt and the other behind her back. It's more hug than carry. 

"Hey, baby," he says, "how's that? Is it nice to be out of the car?" His hand moves to her legs. "Should we do some walking and stretching?" 

He rubs her legs. 

"Daddy, it's sunny, it's like– like with Uncle Wayne, when'd he says that the sunshine is out to play," she says, her hands moving from her chest and into the air above her head like a burst. "It's not messing around!" 

You laugh, your heart melted to a wet goo. Eddie gives you an eyeful, as if to say, Yeah, I made her, that's my kid, and I know she's the cutest thing on God's green earth, thank you very much for noticing. 

"It's not," he agrees, putting her down on the ground. You stand a little ways away, knowing she won't run into traffic but worried anyhow. 

Eddie holds one of her hands and Roan puts the other one back in the air, stretching up big and tall. Eddie strokes a hair behind her ear, and his thumb lingers affectionately on her cheek. 

"Will you wear your hat?" he asks. 

"Do you have a hat?" 

"Uh, no, daddy doesn't have one," he says. 

"But I do!" you butt in.

They turn to look at you. You open the trunk, digging through your packed bags to find the sunhat you'd brought with you. You pop it on your head and turn to smile at them. "See? So you wear yours and we'll be matching." 

Roan doesn't hesitate to crowd your legs. You grab her hat from her 'baby' bag and place it carefully on her head. It hides her beautiful hairdo, but it'll keep her safe from the heat. She looks you in the face and grins. 

"Beautiful," you compliment. 

Eddie doesn't look quite as summer ready as you both. His hair is down, shiny clean but unlikely to stay that way considering the heat. He's wearing blue denim rather than black, something he'd spoken of with horror but more than pulls off, and a black Motorhead t-shirt. There's one chain around his neck that he never takes off, but besides that he's sans jewellery. 

"Roan," he says, "we're gonna walk to the pier to stretch our legs, but you have to hold hands. And you can sit down in the stroller when they're tired again." She nods hurriedly at the idea that she'll be free for a while. "Okay. Alright." 

Eddie gets her stroller out and unfolds it, putting her baby bag in the seat. You rake your fingers through the ends of Roan's hair while you wait, the sun warming the back of your neck already. 

Eddie locks the car, and the three of you start toward the pier. Roan holds your hand and Eddie pushes the stroller out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk that leads to the pier. 

The smell of salt tickles your nose. Roan's hand flutters in yours like a hummingbird, excited gasps breaching her lips when you pass an ice cream stand bragging rainbow cotton candy bigger than her head, kaleidoscope gelato, Popsicles in cherry red, raspberry blue and lime green. Her eyes widen at the sight of huge diamond kites, yellow rubber dinghies, surfboards and wetsuits dripping water down sandy ankles. 

You know Eddie's been saving. He confessed, when you'd brought up your concern one night, that he wants her to have everything. 

What's going on? you'd asked, frowning at his bedraggled face after another late shift. You knew Wayne had been picking Roan up from daycare to let him keep working, and it just hadn't been like Eddie to do that. You can tell me anything.

You'd been expecting, regrettably, money troubles. The Munson's aren't rich but they've never been hurting for money since you met, and all these extra hours has you assuming the worst. 

Eddie rubbed a tired eye. I just want her to have everything. I don't want to say no. Not even once. When we go on vacation, I want her to point at things and I want her to know how it feels to be able to have them without a fight. 

Admirable, a tinsy bit silly. Of course he wants that, isn't that what everyone wants for their children? Admirable, because he wanted it and he worked for it, and he saved up enough to bring Roan here and spoil her within an inch of her life. Silly, because Roan doesn't ask for much. She does ask for stuff, of course, but she's not gonna beg him for a two hundred dollar professional kite, or state of the art arm floaties. But just because you think it's a little silly doesn't mean you aren't incredibly in love with him, impressed by and proud of his efforts. 

He wants to get Roan everything. And so they start with shaved ice. 

It's the second stand you see, just off of the pier with a long, long line. Eddie scoops her up off of the floor so she can see the different flavour combinations, and it's no surprise when she chooses all the pinks and red. Strawberry, cherry, and pink lemonade. The cone is bigger than her hands and costs a ridiculous seven dollars. 

The small smile on Eddie's lips when he can crack out a crisp twenty dollar bill and hand it over makes you smile, too. It's satisfying. All that hard work was worth it for this moment. 

And the moment after. Eddie takes the snow cone and Roan audibly sighs. 

"Oh, my gosh," she says. 

You laugh. Eddie looks at you from over his shoulder and beams. 

Roan wants to do everything, as Eddie predicted. She plays arcade games she's too short for, hoisted up on his knee or in your arms, face screwed in concentration every time, and though the controls escape her she loves hitting the big red button and watching the claw come down. 

But she also wants stuff money can't buy. She wants Eddie to hug her when the clown walks past because he's big and bright and a little scary. She wants kisses when they stand at the side of the pier to look at the lake, blue and clear as an ocean, and drops some of her own against Eddie's sweaty cheek when she's been loved up. She wants you both to swing her by the hand when you're walking down the ramp to the beach, which is difficult but not impossible with the stroller in Eddie's other hand. 

She wants to get ice cream, and a slurpee despite her half eaten snow cone. She wants soft pretzels and churros and a hotdog with extra onions. She wants a surfboard, and you dissuade Eddie from getting her one of the proper ones in favour of a floatie. 

She wants you to put the finishing touches on her crumbly sand castles, and to cuddle in your lap when Eddie makes her drink from a cold bottle of water. When you've been sat in the sun so long that your brain is jellified and you have more sand in your shoes than sock, she springs up from her stomach where she'd been kicking her little feet drawing smiley faces in the sand and demands you take her down to the waterfront. You leave your towels on and the stroller further up the bank and pray for the best, and Eddie peels out of his t-shirt and rolls up his pants a couple of feet from the water. Eddie pulls her sandy dress off to reveal the swimming costume she'd been wearing underneath, a bright yellow costume with a skirt, not too tight to hurt, and bends down at the waist to talk to her as they wait for the water to rush in. You encourage armbands over her elbows. 

"It's gonna be cold, Ro, so we have to run in! Are you ready?" 

"I'm super ready!" she says, squeezing his hand and squaring her shoulders. 

You secure her bands and take her other hand into your right hand, your shoes in your left, bracing yourself for the shock. 

You run in full pelt and screaming with joy. Roan's voice turns into a stream of "oh my god oh my gosh daddy pick me up'd it's too cold oh my gosh," as the water covers your calves and her waist. Eddie immediately leans down to pick her up, out of choices and surprised by her loud aversion. Water stains him from knee to navel. 

"It's not that bad, babe," he says, though he meets your gaze over her head and mock glares at your shaking head. It's freezing. "We just have to get used to it. Ready?" 

He doesn't let her get ready. He doesn't let you get ready. He grabs your wrist and pulls you with him, fighting the cold as the gentle lake tide laps at your waists. 

"Eddie, our pants!" you protest. You'd brought spare clothes in case of any accidents. This is decidedly not an accident. 

"Please, sweetheart, just come in," he says. 

He should legally be prevented from saying please and sweetheart in the same sentence. You submerge yourself to the waist as he wanted and stand there in the water, the taste of river water heavy on your lips now, splashes of cold wetting higher up your chest. It's close to intolerable, the only saving grace the heavy heat of the sunshine above you.

"How's that, Roanie?" he asks.

He's clearly having a blast. His eyes are brighter than the sun dappling that kisses the waves. 

"It feels squishy," you say, adjusting your footing in the sandy bottom of the lake. 

"This is so FUN!" Roan shouts, letting go of Eddie's neck to put her hands in the water. She splashes the surface and soaks Eddie's t-shirt to the neck in the process. 

You almost fall over trying to find his waist in the blue. You wrap and arm around Roan and Eddie wraps and arm around you, the three of you much too deep in the lake and with no plans of turning around just yet. 

"This is so fun," he says, kissing her cheek, kissing yours. "We should do this every year." 

You smile at his chest. 

You hadn't realised, yet, that he wanted you every year. Roan babbles her agreements, talking about her snow cone and the sunshine and her floatie. She stops suddenly. 

Eddie rubs her shoulder, water shining across her pale skin. "What, babe?" 

"Daddy, where's my floatie?" 

You head back up the beach to find it. Her stroller and your towels have been left alone, but the floatie must've been too tempting. 

Eddie, without complaint, goes to buy another. 

—

more Eddie and Roan ♡

please reblog if you enjoyed, it means so much!

[wardenparker]

Love Potion Number 9

Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: Not too many! Alcohol, food mentions, some fakey suburban witchcraft stuff written by an actual pagan, probably incorrect descriptions of a town that actually exists. Making out and undressing. Mentions of protected sex. Summary: Halloween is a really big deal in your hometown, and this year your sister is in town to celebrate with you. But what you don't know is that she isn't the only old familiar face around. Your childhood crush Will Miller is back, too. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! We're starting off nice and fluffy this year, with a little love for the older Miller brother. We're starting the spice level out low 🧡

Red Feather Lakes might be a small community, but for the little corner of Colorado where you grew up, Halloween is a way of life. The annual kids parade on Elf Lane, and Main Street Trick or Treat are the highlight of the year, and the costume party at town hall is not to be missed.

This year is the hundredth anniversary of the big Halloween shindig and on the night before, which is making such a splash around town that people are coming in from all over to see what the town council has managed. Even your little sister is back in town, which is how the two of you ended up on the back porch of your parents’ house drinking margaritas and eating cold pizza way too late at night, catching up and reminiscing about Halloweens of years past.

“Don’t you remember that night that Ben Miller scared the ever-loving shit out of us?” She snorts, feeling tipsy and better than she has in a long time. This little trip was needed. Especially since she has some news that might change the dynamic of the next time you get together.

“Which time?” You raise an eyebrow at her and pour the last of the pitcher of margaritas evenly between your glasses. While most of your friends — and even your little sister who is your best friend — had grown up and left town, you had come back again a few years ago after a change of careers. Seeing her again at any time of year that isn’t the winter holidays is such a treat. “The time he jumped out at us in that King Kong mask up in Elf Lane? Or the time he tried to climb in the kitchen window dressed like Freddy Krueger and dad nearly clobbered him with a baseball bat?”

The Millers were your next door neighbors growing up, and you had spent a lot of time together since you and Will were in the same grade and your sister was the same grade as Benny. For a while when you were kids, the four of you were inseparable.

“That time that he snuck in and grabbed our ankles from under the bed.” She laughs, even though at the time it hadn’t been funny. She had cussed him out and Will had actually knocked him upside his dumbass head a few times after he had calmed the two of you down.

Snorting at the memory, you take a big sip from your crazy straw and laugh from somewhere deep in your belly that you swear you had forgotten. "You screamed so loud you woke up Mrs. Peterson two houses down. It was amazing, but I still wanted to kick Benny's ass."

“Will did.” She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her margarita. “I can’t believe it’s been so long. We were fucking kids. I think that’s the moment I lost my little crush on Benny.”

"When you realized he was never going to stop pranking you for shits and giggles?" Chaos has always been Benny Miller's energy. You will agree to that completely.

“Yeah.” She blows out a sigh and shrugs. “Worked out for the best, I guess. At least I don’t have to sleep with one eye open.”

"Maybe not the best..." You shoot your sister a smirk. "I heard from Janie Calitri that he's doing MMA fights now." Gossip is just about all there is to do in a town as small as yours, and that multiples exponentially when the gossip is about your small-town heroes. The Miller brothers are solidly near the top of that list. Everybody in town loves them and remembers them fondly. Even if Benny was a little shit.

“God.” She blows out a laugh that is half surprise but mostly resignation. “MMA? I guess that’s the next step after the army.”

"Seems like it." It isn't worth mentioning that you also heard in the same conversation that Will Miller is now a firefighter or personal trainer or maybe both. Janie hadn't been clear on the details except that she'd somehow seen a picture of him looking drool-worthy on Instagram shared by a gym. But Will Miller had always been drool worthy. Even when you were gangly, awkward teenagers.

“So, how are you liking living here?” She asks, taking another sip and glancing around the screened in porch and then back at you. “I know that wish I live closer - I do too, but please tell me you’ve been going out and dating?”

“Please tell me who I’m supposed to date in a town of less than five hundred people where we know everyone already and they all know us?” The best you can do is shake your head and take another long sip of your drink. “I don’t mind being back and I actually really like my job, but I basically hang out at home with the dog all day since I telecommute. Mom and Dad will probably never retire just because they hate being bored, And they go line dancing or to the movies or to the bowling alley all the time.” Snorting again, you shrug. “Our parents have a way more active social life than I do.”

“Come on, you used to have huuuuuuge crush on Will!” She yelps it out in disappointment. “You mean you didn’t jump him when he came home from the Army without that twat he was going to marry?”

There it is, you think with an internal sigh. The downside of having your little sister as your best friend is that she knows literally everything about your life — and the things she’s somehow missed she just barges into the middle of. “No, I didn’t. Though that girl was fucking awful.” She was some girl he’d met in a bar while he was in. Someone who just wanted to go around making sure everyone knew how important she was as an Army Wife, while not wanting to do a thing to help her serviceman partner. Will’s PTSD had been terrible back then and she had done less than nothing to help. The day he blacked out and almost attacked a man in the grocery store in town, it was you who talked him down and helped him out of the panic. Not her. She had gone back to the house and packed. “He’s moved again, anyway. He’s living with Benny in Florida.”

“What? No way.” She scrunches her nose and makes a face. “That sucks. You would have married him and had his babies in a New York minute if he would have looked at you.” She sighs softly. “Where in Florida?”

“Sarasota.” You answer far too quickly, and duck your head away and when she raises both eyebrows at you. “We…may follow each other on Instagram still. Not that we ever talk.”

“And how often do you stalk his page?” She demands, smirking slightly at the way you are avoiding eye contact.

“I see on my feed when he posts something new,” you defend, concentrating very hard on petting your parents’ dog at your feet. “I don’t go stalking him.”

“But I bet notifications are on.” She snorts and grins when you shove at her. Only tipping sideways slightly but manages not to spill her drink as she rights herself. “Yeah. You still drool over William Miller.”

“Childhood crushes die hard.” It’s a weak defense, and you would more accurately call him your first love, but she isn’t wrong. You definitely still drool over Will Miller.

“God, do you remember when we were going through that little goth phase and decided we were witches?” She cackles. “We should whip up that love potion we had a recipe – I mean spell for.”

“The foolproof one you got from some rando on MySpace?” It had sounded genius back in the day. Absolutely brilliant. To two preteens from a middle-of-nowhere mountain town, it had seemed perfect. “It was so useless, wasn’t it? With just cooking herbs and normal stuff in it?”

“Yes! But that’s not the point.” She sends you an exaggerated pout. “The point is to do something. Start working on your love life.”

The look you give her is incredulous at best. “By making…weird love spell tea to lure Will Miller back to Colorado and into my chronically single arms?”

“Absolutely!” She giggles like it’s the funniest phrasing she’s ever heard, but she wants to do it. “We should do something silly and fun. Doesn’t matter if it’s not going to work.” She grins. “We will just be summoning our Practical Magic sides again.”

Maybe it’s the margaritas. Maybe it’s that tomorrow is Halloween. Or maybe it’s just that you missed your sister. But whatever it is, you tilt your head to look at her and end up grinning. “If you tell me you wrote the love spell down somewhere I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

“Oh I made a Grimoire.” She tells you, looking both pleased with herself and a little embarrassed. “I was really into it!” She huffs when your eyes widen and she throws a napkin at you.

“You were, but do you think it’s still upstairs?” The idea, silly as it is, seems to itch something very intriguing in your tipsy mind.

“Let’s go see!” She drains the rest of her margarita and slaps the cup down. Now that you are not protesting the entire idea, she is ready to make this happen for you. “We will make Will Miller fall in love with you

******

"Come oooooon!" Benny is flopped on his back on the sofa in the apartment he shares with his brother, staring up at both the ceiling and at Will's incredulous face. "It's gonna be even better this year, and you pulled the short straw at work last year and couldn't come home with me for Christmas. Mom will flip her shit if you come home with me as a surprise. She'll be so excited dude."

“It’s Halloween.” Will snorts. “You’re just going to pass out or eat all the candy and scare the shit out of the kids.” He could go, but giving Benny a hard time right now is much more fun.

"Yes." Benny waves his hands, outstretched arms punctuating his point like a giant bird's wingspan. "Yes exactly. What else would I do on Halloween? It's going to be amazing." They grew up loving the holiday, loving their town's traditions, and always putting their full effort into costumes and parties. Halloween in Red Feather Lakes is really its own whole world. "Which is exactly why you should come home with me and enjoy yourself for once."

“I don’t find scaring the shit out of the neighbors to be a good time like you do.” He points at finger at his mischievous younger brother. “You climb under their beds this time and they’re liable to shoot your dumbass.”

Benny's face splits into a grin. "If that's what I gotta do to get your ass alone with her for any fucking reason, you bet your ass I'll do it." he promises, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Who?” Will demands, even though he knows exactly who Benny is talking about. The same girl he has casually been bringing up for the past six months every time he talks about home. You.

"The girl you were in-fucking-love with for every year of your life ending in teen." Benny deadpans, and moves to sit up from his place on the couch. "Don't you ever want to find out if it could actually happen?"

“Except for the fact that she was never interested in me.” Will reminds him, knowing that it is a moot point once Ben Miller has made up his mind about something.

"I still don't buy that." The younger Miller brother sits up fully and somehow manages to spring up from his seat without a massive rush of dizziness. Pure luck. "Dude, just come home with me for the weekend. Mom will flip her shit to see you and cook whatever you want. Isn't that worth the trip in and of itself?"

“I haven’t had her meatloaf in a long time.” He admits, knowing that he could use the break from work and bullshit. Frankie is busy with his girl and the babies and there isn’t a fight coming up for a few weeks. “But I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Maybe I could just stay home. Have a break from you.” He teases.

"If you stay here, Pope is gonna drag your ass to some club to wingman for him." Benny points out, already smirking victoriously. "Mom's meatloaf or Pope's cocky ass bullshit? It's not a hard choice, bro."

Will rolls his eyes, aware that he’s not lying. Santiago has already been talking about some club where the drinks are hot and the women even hotter. It’s not really Will’s kind of thing. “You’re driving.” He snorts, giving in.

Cackling with glee, Benny loops his arm around his brother's neck and pulls him toward the back of the apartment. "I already bought your plane ticket, asshole. You were coming whether you liked it or not, now pack! We gotta be at the airport in three hours!"

“Shit.” Will hisses at the impulsiveness of his brother, but he grins. He will take the weekend to recharge and refocus. If he just happens to chat with you and see how you’ve been, that will just be a happy coincidence.

******

Though you aren't technically hungover, the headache that has lingered all morning isn't going away as you head into town with your sister. Breakfast was a trial for her queasy stomach but she seems to be in lighter spirits now, chattering away as you head together toward town hall. Apparently she had thought it would be a blast to sign you up as volunteers to help decorate the place for the big Halloween party tonight, even though you aren't quite sure why.

“We just need to get the last ingredient while we are in town and we will brew the tea before the party.” She chatters happily after tucking her phone into her pocket and linking her arm through yours.

“And what, pray tell, is the last ingredient?” It had taken over an hour of routing through her old room and closet to find the teenage grimoire aside by that tins you had been exhausted. So it was agreed upon that the witching hour would be three in the afternoon instead of three in the morning like the lame, adult witches you now are.

“Fresh thyme to chase away the bad vibes of previous relationships to usher in true love.” She hums, shooting you a grin. “And I want a special shout out at your wedding.”

"You can give a speech and take credit," you promise her, rolling your eyes only gently. She seems utterly convinced that this will work and what the hell – it's been a long time since you did something dumb with your kid sister just for fun.

“Oh I absolutely will.” She snickers, bumping her shoulder against yours playfully. “And you will absolutely be doing Will.”

“You can see the future now?” You tease as town comes into sight. She’s so determined that you have half a mind to ask if she’s been conspiring with Benny.

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “I wish. I would be hitting the lottery just often enough to not be suspicious.”

“We’d become aces in sports betting.” Much good may it do you. Having enough money to take care of yourself didn’t make your last relationship work.

“Yep. One hundred percent.” She snorts, knowing her team always loses. “Become ladies of leisure and live on that round the world cruise ship. Place our bets online and live off the proceeds.”

"That's the retirement plan." You tell her sagely, and the two of you end up in giggles as you park the car on Main Street, halfway between town hall and the general store. You'll need both before you head home again.

“Plus I figured we could get some of those Halloween sugar cookies.” She admits with a grin. “And a last minute bag of mini KitKats.”

"That's why you're my favorite sister." The grin you beam in her direction is bright, and because she's your only sister, you're both laughing when you climb out of the car.

“Might be because I’m your only sister.” She hums smugly. “So let’s go do this decorating so we can get our munches on.”

"We're getting popcorn, too," you bargain, matching the long strides of her legs as you hustle down the street together. "So when we dip out of the party early tonight we can turn on horror movies and make popcorn."

“Carmel popcorn?” She counters, waggling her brows.

"Okay we're getting two kinds of popcorn."

The laughter that follows the two of you lasts all the way into town hall where party decorating is well underway and several people are already walking around with pieces of their costumes on. Your parents are both already there, helping some members of the town's council to hang streamers and a group of kids from the local high school are making signs for their charity fundraiser. It's a homey, welcoming atmosphere and you breath in the scent of pumpkin spice potpourri when you come further into the big function room.

******

“Come on man.” Benny hustles Will through the baggage claim, neither one of them packing anything that needed to be checked, but you have to go through that area to get to the rental desk. “We need to get our car.”

The hour drive from the airport in Laramie, Wyoming doesn't bother them. Red Feather Lakes was always a beautiful place inside of beautiful mountains, and being able to surprise their mother would be worth it. Ever since their father died any chance they get to see her is doubly worthwhile. It was more the nuisance of paperwork that both Miller brothers disliked. They'd rather just step out of the airport and be at their childhood home again.

“You’re driving.” Will tosses Benny the keys and smirks when the younger man groans. “Fine.” He huffs, pouting slightly. He had obviously wanted to work on something for his scare plan tonight.

"Driver picks music." Benny declares, regardless of the fact that it goes completely against their usual bargain. If Will is going to make him drive, he's not going to listen to Queens of the Stone Age for the entire drive.

“Whatever man. Just don’t fucking put on Miley Cyrus.” Will opens the backseat door and tosses his bag in. “You call mom, make sure she is home?”

"I texted her to ask what time she was going into town to hand out candy to the trick or treaters at her shop. It's still early enough, she'll be home." The florist shop that Dana Miller had managed for their entire life was squarely in the middle of the town's before-dark trick or treating event where little kids could go storefront to storefront to get candy from business owners, and she had never missed a year with the kids. These days she would finish that up and then head over to town hall for the party right after.

“Okay.” Will nods as Benny hops behind the wheel and cranks the car up. “We drop our bags and see if mom has some candy for later?” He has a wicked sweet tooth, although he never admits it

"Yes, we'll see if she has your mini Snickers, you overgrown child," Benny teases as he peels out into the road.

“You know you eat about half of them.” Will huffs, always annoyed when he goes to get some of his favorite candy and the little shit has eaten all of them.

"She got my Reese's." The younger brother of the two brothers announces happily. "I'm all set. The kids may not get any candy, but we will."

“Of course she does.” There’s no spite in his tone even thought it’s always been obvious that Benny is the favorite. It’s only because he’s the baby of the family.

"Don't pout." Benny throws his brother a smirk. "I bet if you go next door you can get all the treats you want."

Will groans, but he doesn't say anything. Since he's agreed to come, his brother has just intensified the comments about you and it does him no good to try to argue against him. He will just keep on so he's trying to ignore it.

The drive is reasonably marked with snark and ribbing, and when Benny pulls the rental car up in front of their old house it feels a little bit like coming home from bootcamp. That was the last time they had really surprised their mother with an arrival. "C'mon." Benny shoves Will and climbs out of the SUV. "Quiet. Get your shit."

"Jesus.' Will rolls his eyes but silently creeps out of the vehicle. "I think mom will notice me at some point." He points out. "It's not like the time you tried to have Aaron Rodgers live with us without telling our parents."

"His parents' divorce was vicious, he needed someplace to go." Benny defends, though he does make Will shut up before he very carefully opens the door in his best effort to be silent. He even avoids the creaky fourth plank in the entryway floor that sounds like a cartoon coffin swinging open. But the dog spoils it almost immediately with barking his head off.

Will's shoulders shake in silent amusement as Benny makes more noise than the dog trying to shut him up. Only getting the barking to stop when Scruffy comes into view, sees it's his second and third favorite humans and immediately rushes over to beat his tail against the walls as he jumps up for love and kisses.

"You ruined it!" Benny is huffing at the Malinois, but he's still bent over giving him all the cuddles he could possibly want when their mother appears around the corner.

Dana Miller is wearing her Halloween apron with an episode of Supernatural playing on the kitchen television, flour in her hair and even on her cheek when she unceremoniously drops the towel from her hands at the sight of her boys. "Benjamin Miller is this why you wanted to know about my schedule for the day?" She crows, before hurrying forward to wrap both of her sons up in hugs. "Almost gave me and the dog a damn heart attack, come and hug your mother."

"Hey ma." Will smiles as he scoops her up, even though her own grip on him is bone crushing. She's not a frail woman, despite being petite. "Ben thought we should surprise you, so send him the medical bills."

"I will, don't you worry." She squeezes them both tight, one after the other, and doesn't mind the fact that she's a little teary eyed at the sight of them. "What's the occasion then, besides Halloween? Or are we just giving your old mother palpitations for fun these days?"

"You know Benny." Will snorts. "It's all fun and games for him." His tone sounds surly but now that he's here, he's happy Benny dragged him along. It's been too long since he's seen his mother. He needs to make more of an effort.

“It is.” She knows that. Her younger son’s whimsy is something she loves about him. “But it got you both home, so I’m very happy about it. How long are you staying?”

"Just the weekend." Will shrugs apologetically. "I have to be back at work Monday afternoon."

"How is the firehouse?" Dana ushers her boys toward the kitchen after they drop their bags at the foot of the stairs like they always did after school every day. Old habits die hard.

"It's.....fine." The truth is, he's not exactly happy there anymore. There's been a change of command and for some reason, he clashes with the new fire chief.

"Oh?" Their mother raises an eyebrow as she moves to the stove, immediately dishing up some of what she was cooking. It was going to last just her all weekend, but now that her boys are home it will be one lunch and that is perfectly fine. "What's caused the change of heart?"

"New chief." Will sighs. "He's a very 'my way or the highway' type."

"You never do well with that." The beef stew from the pot is ladled into bowls without hesitation or even consultation. The Miller boys are always hungry. "Benny honey, get the tray of rolls out of the oven," she instructs, setting the full bowls one by one on the kitchen counter. "Are you thinking of asking for a transfer?" She asks, bringing her attention back to her elder son.

"Problem is, there isn't anywhere to transfer to." He complains, having been really pissed about that when he had found out. "Not without a significant loss of pay or having to move to BFE Florida."

"BFE?" Their mother asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

"Military term." Benny supplies helpfully, shooting Will a grin. "Butt Fuck, Egypt. Means the middle of nowhere."

"Charming." Dana rolls her eyes at her sons. "Put those rolls on a plate, Ben. Will, there's sodas in the fridge if you want." She ushers both boys toward the table on the other end of the kitchen and puts the bowls on a tray. "So what will you do, Will? Have you decided? Or found your solution but pretended you haven't decided yet?"

"Honestly, I don't have a clue right now." He had stopped giving the talks at the different commands, finding it too difficult after losing Tom last year. "But I need to figure it out. He doesn't even respect my VA appointments."

"Maybe you'll find a little inspiration. A Halloween miracle?" She winks and laughs at her own little joke. "A little mountain air might help clear your head, at least."

He groans at her lame joke and shakes his head. "Sure, why not?" He snorts. "It's closer than a Christmas miracle."

"So you're coming to the party tonight, then." It isn't a question. She will be bringing her boys to the costume party since they're in town. "We'll have to get some costumes sorted out."

"We have them." Benny announces with a grin.

"You brought some?" She raises an eyebrow in interest as they start to eat.

Benny cuts his eyes over to Will, still ignoring him. "I brought some." He admits. "Planned it out for my helpless older brother."

******

"I love that we're grown ass women and still getting banished to the backyard to make potions on Dad's old camping stove." You snort, carrying the equipment out to the back porch where your sister is lining up all of her bottles of 'love potion' ingredients. "Feels very teenage of us. I love it."

"Mom said she didn't like the smell of the herbs." It was such a lie, but neither of you called her on it. It's more likely that she just didn't want to put up with your giggling and cackling as you 'brewed' the potion.

"She should just be glad that we didn't do this last night after an entire pitcher of margaritas." That would have been even more giggling and probably a disaster waiting to happen. "Alright, do we have a spell or something? What are we doing here?" Since moving past the silliness of it, you've come around to just embracing the absurdity of the idea. If like isn't about being ridiculous with your best friend, then what is it about?

“Well of course we have a spell.” She rolls her eyes and snorts like you are ridiculous for even thinking otherwise.

"Pull out that grimoire, baby sis." The table on the porch becomes your staging area and you set up the camping stove and pot then start to look through the bottles that your sister has brought out. "Fennel pollen? What the hell is fennel pollen?"

“Fennel, ground.” She snorts, pulling out a small container of the spice. “Substitutes are okay.”

"Why is there a piece of...is that from my prom dress?" A scrap of lace fabric is out with the bottles and you hold it up in confusion. "Are we like...burning things related to wedding dresses to summon a groom?" You ask, already bursting out laughing all over again.

“It’s a part of the spell!” She snorts, even as she starts laughing too. “It was the dance you and Will danced at, remember?”

“I remember.” How could you forget? Your whole friend group had opted not to have official prom dates but to all go together, and then everyone had paired off anyway. The memory of it — how Will had grumbled about why didn’t we all have dates, then? as the two of you sat at the table together, and how it took him half the night to dance at all — makes you smile softly.

“So this is the pinch of closeness the spell requires.” She tells you as she takes the bottle from you. “From the waist of the dress where Will held you close.”

“This is a really fucking specific spell,” you joke, actually feeling more warmth from the nostalgia than anything else. You had ended up having a wonderful prom with Will and that was the whole reason that your dress was still upstairs.

“It’s specialized to the couple so it’s more likely to work.” She points out practically. “Too bad I don’t have something of Will’s.”

“I mean…” Glancing next door, you shrug your shoulders and move to the end of the porch that bitts right up against the border of your properties. There’s no fence or gate or wall or anything, just two backyards running together. “Does something from his yard count?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and shoots you a grin. “It couldn’t hurt.”

"Let's go see!" Ready to just throw yourself all in when the memories of prom make you all warm and fuzzy with nostalgia, you hop down from your back porch and slip over to the Miller's yard. It takes all of three seconds to find something that Scruffy left outside. Helpfully, it's one of Will's old bandanas that the sleek Malinois sometimes wears with his collar, and you pick it up with an air of victory. "Scruffy's doing his part for the spell," you call out, and hustle back to the porch.

Laughing, your sister shakes her head but takes the bandana. “Ode de dog slobber.” She jokes, although the bandana looks clean.

“Alright.” Back up on the porch, you motion to your sister with a flourish. “Break out the grimoire and let’s do this,” you proclaim, running your hands together.

"That's the spirit!" She reaches out and slaps your butt playfully and then turns to pull an old notebook out of the bag she had brought down. It might not be the spookiest but it was what she had as a teenager.

One by one each ingredient goes into the pot. A pinch of this, a dash of that. Mostly kitchen herbs, or the contents of a broken up tea bags. The live flame from the camping stove is there to singe the scrap of your prom dress. Will's bandana goes into the brew like a Hail Mary from his days as quarterback of the high school football team. By the time everything is in and your sister has read the makeshift spell aloud from her notebook with flare, you're both cackling with glee and feeling like there may really be something magical about Halloween after all.

“I feel like we should be wearing all black and living in a very mysterious house.” Your sister admits with a grin as she gives the ‘tea’ a final stir and pinches in the thyme that you had to buy earlier. “Okay, we let this steep one minute and then you drink it while saying Will’s full name after every sip.”

"You didn't tell me I had to drink it!" It's so like her to leave that detail to the very end, and you scowl at her for a whole three seconds. "I would not have put the dog's bandana in there."

She cackles with a slightly evil grin on her face. “How did you think it would work?” She demands, pulling it off the heat to let it steep as she pulls out your favorite old teacup. It was one that you had found in the attic years ago and rescued from the trunk to become your teacup.

"I guess I didn't give it much thought," you admit with a huff. Because you never intended to go through with it, but the prospect of having fun with your sister had won out.

She snorts and shrugs. “Maybe we add a little honey for taste.”

"Maybe more than a little." But the suggestion brings you both to the edges of giggles again, and you shake your head as she goes inside to retrieve the honey bear from the cupboard.

There's an odd moment of warmth in the quiet that follows, and you pick up the photo of you and Will from that prom night, savoring the nostalgia that blankets you like a gentle hug.

If you had known you were being watched through the window by an unexpected audience, you're not sure you would even have cared. Sometimes good memories are worth a moment to honor them.

******

“We don’t have to be there right when the doors open.” Will rolls his eyes as Benny hurries him along. Because of the military he has always been early for everything, but he’d spent too much time today by the window and then looking through an old box in his closet to even think about getting ready until his younger brother had burst into his room.

"If we want a crack at the punchbowl before Deputy Warren starts nitpicking at anyone who drinks, yes we do need to be there when the doors open." Benny contends. Pointing to the bundle of clothes on Will's bed, he frowns animatedly. "Get dressed, dude."

“You are gonna have a bottle out in the truck anyway.” Will points out, but he still gets up and pulls his shirt off. “What the hell did you get me for a costume anyway?”

"They had a costume for that Sons of Anarchy character you like when I went to the Halloween store." Benny tells him. He's already in his cowboy outfit and twirls his hat around one hand. "I figured if I got you a Disney outfit you'd refuse to go, and that defeats the purpose of coming out here."

“You know better than to get me some stuffy Prince Charming costume.” He snorts. He’ll be happy with the Sons outfit and he can slick back his hair, “I’ll be ready in five.”

"Good." Benny whirls around and stuffs his hat on his head. "You're driving!" He hollers back as he strolls out of the room. "I wanna pregame!"

“Shit.” He shakes his head and blows out a sigh. He has a feeling tonight is going to be a long one.

"I heard that!" Benny calls back, already heading down the stairs. He's going to enjoy the hell out of this weekend and is going to push Will's buttons until he figures out what it takes for his brother to enjoy it, too.

True to his word, Will is downstairs four and a half minutes later. His hair slicked back with some ten-year-old gel he had found under the sink in the bathroom and a silver chain that he had forgotten he had around his neck. He doesn’t have but two rings on, but one of them is a skull ring.

"You boys go ahead and have fun." Their mother is bustling around the living room, tidying up from the board game they had been playing before. "I'm going to come a little later. I want to catch the neighborhood trick or treaters before I leave the house."

“Are you sure?” Will walks over to her and drops a kiss on her head.

"Absolutely." She nods, giving her older son a squeezing hug. "The Olsens down the street always do a family costume and their granddaughter is just two years old now. I don't want to miss that."

“Okay.” Will palms the keys and looks over at his brother. “Ready, jackass?”

"I've been ready." Even the cowboy boots he borrowed from Fish are ready, and Benny slides right out the front door with a mock square dancing move, calling back: "See ya at the party, Mom!" And climbing directly into the rental car.

“Kill me now.” Will sighs as he shakes his head, following him out the door and closing it behind him. There’s already kids running up and down the streets with bags in their hands. Soon ghosts and goblins will haunt the streets and the witching hours for youngsters will begin.

******

"Oh wow..." Your sister gasps sharply walking into the town's Halloween party and seeing how much decorating had been done after the two of you left. The finesse, it seemed, was everything. A band composed of several town council members, the middle school principal, and the town librarian has set up on one end of the room to play the night away. Tables of food and drink line the opposite wall for new arrivals to mingle and find their courage, and some couples are already out on the dance floor at the beginning of the party.

Having doubled down on the idea to dress as Barbie movie characters this year, your sister rolls in as Cowgirl Barbie in her bright pink jumpsuit complete with bell bottoms and the kerchief around her neck with a grin on her face. She's always effortless, your baby sister, and instead of being huffy when she spots someone else in the same costume as her, she just sprints off to make a new friend instead. It leaves you standing in your pink and white gingham dress as classic Barbie just a little awkwardly by the door.

“Come on.” As soon as he finds a spot to park, Benny is rushing Will out of the SUV and towards the door. Eager to start the night off, even though he had been drinking on the way.

The party is in full swing already but the punch bowl is full, which is all Benny cares about at the moment. He heads straight over to get a black plastic cup and scrawl his name on it with a metallic sharpie when he hears his name screeched at top volume. Old friends seem to pour out of the woodwork to say hi, and practically before Will even hits the doorframe, his little brother is surrounded by a mob of people.

Will is more the type to ease into a room. The military training and life had led him to scout out exits and breach points. He finds himself searching those out and spots a pink gingham dress in the process.

"Oh shit!" Your sister has spotted him first, as she's facing the rest of the room while you were pouring two cups of punch.

"What?" You barely look up, making very sure that you don't spill on your dress. "Did you spot more Barbies?"

“No.” She shakes her head and grins. “Will’s here!” She hisses and motions you away from the table. “Go give him a drink.”

"Will's here?" There is hardly enough time to react before she is spinning you around and nudging you toward the middle of the room like she's going to shove you clear across the expansive dancefloor and straight into his arms.

When you turn around, Will swallows. The dress looks incredible on you and you look shocked to see him. He shuffles slightly, rolling his shoulders back as for once wishes he had a cigarette even though he quit eight years ago.

"Hey." One single, stupid word comes out of your mouth when you get within an arm's reach of him, still clutching both cups and trying to pretend your heart isn't beating out of your chest.

“Hey.” He reaches out to take the cups from you and stupidly takes both like you weren’t wanting one for yourself. “You don’t look like the Barbie dolls I remember Benny pulling the heads off of.” He jokes, flashing you a quick grin. “I think they were all yours too.”

With your cheeks instantly on fire, you manage to smile and shrug like you aren't well aware that Benny had a penchant for doll destruction when you were all kids. "Barbie is a state of mind," you tell him with an air of someone giving sage advice.

“That’s true.” He chuckles, glad that you hadn’t taken offense to that comment. He had almost stuck his foot in his mouth. “Besides, you make a better Barbie.”

It actually draws a nervous little giggle out of you, and you have to clear your throat to keep from looking or sound like a besotted middle schooler when you are a grown-ass woman. "It's good to see you, Will."

“Good to see you too.” He nods, handing you back one of the cups. “Here, I’m an idiot.” He snorts. “Don’t know why I took both of them.”

"You were trying to be helpful," you predict, seeing the impulse as one of chivalry, even if it wasn't necessary. "I, um...I didn't know you'd be home this weekend. What's the occasion?" It's your turn to be a little bit of an idiot, considering you're both standing in the middle of a party.

“Benny dragged me home.” He rolls his eyes, even though he’s happy that he has. You’re here. “It’s been one thousand sixty five days since I’ve seen you.” He blurts out suddenly, having calculated it earlier.

The way that tugs at the corners of your mouth makes your lips twitch up in a smile and all of a sudden you can't look him in the eyes momentarily. "You counted?"

“Always count.” It’s a habit that hadn’t been that noticeable in high school to careless teenagers, but that trait had been exacerbated in the Army. “Pretty much everything.”

"I know." A lot of people didn't realize, but you noticed. You always noticed. "But I didn't know you counted that." It was a little less than three years ago when you saw him last. After everything had gone to hell with his now ex-fiancée and he had left Colorado to move out east with Benny. Without a doubt, he counted because of the heartbreak, not because of you.

He shrugs and takes a sip of the punch. “You really helped me screw my head back on straight.” He reminds you. “Should have called you more when we moved.” It’s a half assed apology and he knows it. “Sorry about that.”

"It's fine. Not like we promised it or anything." You hadn't. It really was okay that he hadn't called. Your crush isn't his responsibility, after all.

“No, but I should have.” He repeats. “How have you been? Mom said you moved home?”

"Yeah." It isn't anything to be ashamed of and you won't pretend it is, even if the plan was for the move to only be temporary. "I work remotely and there was nothing keeping me where I was, so I came back for a while. It gives me time to save and really think about where I want to go next." The smile you offer him is small but bright. "How's Florida?"

“Hot.” Will snorts. “Muggy.” He shrugs. “Ben’s happy there, and our friend Fish settled down there too, but I don’t know.” This restless feeling has been getting worse since Tom died. He has a lot of guilt being around Molly and the girls. Even they were planning on moving soon. Wanting to be closer to the colleges they were choosing.

"You're not happy there?" It extinguishes your smile almost instantly, worried that he's made a decision that has made him unhappy and knowing that you were one of the people who encouraged him to stay close to his brother in the first place. Benny is his best friend, after all.

“I think I want a change.” He admits out loud. “Nothing horrible, but just…restless, I guess. Fish and his wife had another baby. Makes number three and I haven’t been on a date in two years.”

Before you can stop yourself, you're huffing at the idea that he somehow would have any trouble finding women willing to date him. "I'm sure you can flip the switch on that any time you decide to," you assure him, immediately taking a sip of your punch so you don't stick your foot in your mouth.

He shrugs again. “Maybe. But I don’t want to have to explain all my issues.” He shoots you a grin. “And all my scars.”

"You're never going to let me off the hook for that, are you?" Like you're seventeen all over again, you could just stick your tongue out and tell him to deal with it. "I warned you to use a pot holder, William. The fact that you thought you could take the cupcake pan out of the oven without protection is not my fault."

He chuckles, always loving the way your nose scrunches when you look at him like that. It’s why he always teases you about the scar on his palm. It’s barely noticeable now and he has more prominent ones, but he likes to bring it up at least once every time he sees you. “You told me the oven was off.”

"Yeah, the oven being off doesn't mean the pan instantly stops being hot!" It's so ridiculous to get into every single time, but he does love to bring it up. It was mother's day and he had wanted to do something nice for his mom, but now it's the thing to tease each other about.

“How was I supposed to know that?” He demands, even as he starts to laugh. It’s stupid now, looking back on it, but it had been one of those brainless teenage moments. “You didn’t even kiss it to make it feel better.”

“I—I didn’t—” The insinuation makes you fluster, skin burning hot all over again. “You didn’t ask me to,” you justify. If he had asked, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

“I thought that was like, an automatic thing.” The way your lips pinch together is adorable and he sends you a smirk. “Kiss it to make it feel better.”

“I mean…” You’re going to burst into flames any second, you can tell. Just burn to ashes on the spot. “I mean I guess, but—” You sputter inelegantly. “Weren’t you dating Annie Neville when that happened?”

He would have dumped Annie in a heartbeat if you had given him any indication you wanted him. It might not be something that would have been right, but it was the gods honest truth. He takes another sip of his drink. “Broke up with her two days later.” He doesn’t admit that he had broken up with her because she thought it was weird he would do something for his mom on Mother’s Day, but that’s not the point.

“Right.” Nodding slightly, the warm allure of deeply alcoholic punch sounds like a great idea and you sip. “I remember now. She bitched and moaned about losing out on boyfriend bragging rights.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” He cuts his eyes towards his brother. “And I grew up with that one.”

You follow his eyes and grin, seeing the gaggle of friends surrounding Benny. Including one hot pink Barbie jumpsuit. “Surprising no one, my sister has found your brother,” you hum in amusement. “I wonder what havoc they’ll wreak this time.”

“They might burn the town down.” He huffs. “Then Benny would expect me to put it out.”

“That’s right.” An innocent like sound escapes you. An assent. As though you didn’t order a copy of his fire department’s Hunky Heroes calendar last year under a different name just because his photo was your birthday month. “Firefighter. That seemed like it would be right up your alley.”

“Might be an ex-firefighter.” It’s always been easy to share with you. Which was why his ex’s comments about being closed off were so confusing to him. He shares. He just never shared much with her because she never seemed to give a shit.

“Really?” That surprises you, since giving back to his community has always been so important to Will. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

“Yeah.” He notices that you have finished your own punch, so he takes the cup from you and guides you back towards the bowl. “Just not sure where to go.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person to ask,” you admit, trying not to get all girlish and swoony at the gentle press of his hand on your back. “I just ran home to my parents when I felt lost.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” He insists, his fingers twitching against your back. “Home is where you feel safest. It’s normal to want that when you are hurt. Emotionally or physically.”

“But it’s not where I want to stay.” Somehow talking to Will has always been easy. Even when you were in that place where you clammed up around him sometimes because your teenage hormones went out of control, you comfort and safety of him was enough to bring you back down. As it turns out, that’s true no matter how long you’ve been apart. “So we’re sort of in the same weird place.”

“Where would you go?” Will asks, comforted by the fact that you seem to be in the same boat. He’s always presented himself as very in charge and forward thinking, so finding himself floundering without a real plan was new.

“I have no idea.” It’s not a thing that you’re comfortable admitting, but somehow knowing that Will is feeling the same is a comfort. He always seemed so steady. “I just know that I’m not in the place I thought I would be by this age and I’m restless.”

He chuckles and nods in agreement. “Benny keeps telling me that I’m ready for another duty station.” Being in the military required moving every three to four years.

“You’re not thinking about going back in, are you?” Between his chronic pain and his PTSD — both from military service — your expression turns to one of deep concern and worry at the idea.

“No.” He quickly shakes his head. “That ship has sailed.” Even if he could pass the fitness requirements, he’s too old to go back to being a Captain. His peers are all too far ahead. “Just feeling that need for a new adventure.”

“I fully understand that.” The itch is something you have always shared, back when you used to dream about leaving the mountains and seeing everything the world had to offer. Will had succeeded in that front. At least far more effectively than you ever had. “Maybe…” When he hands you a fresh cup of punch you pause and thank him. “Maybe our paths will cross again? Who knows.”

“You can work anywhere.” He reminds you with a grin. “You should pick a place and go.”

“I would.” You shrug half-heartedly. “But I never got the taste for traveling alone.”

“Where would you want to go?” He asks curiously, wondering where you would go, what you would want to see. If those dreams had changed since you were a child.

“The ocean? The forests? Desert or huge cities?” Feeling ridiculous, you laugh at yourself and just shrug. “There’s so much of the world out there and I’ve barely ever left home.”

“Tropics.” Will decides. “Salt and sand. Beautiful breezes and sun kissing your skin.” His idea might be influenced by his own location in Florida.

“Sounds perfect.” And if the idea of being there with him is in your head, you’ll swear it’s only because you’re talking to him about it right here and now. “But again…I hate being alone. So it’s sort of a moot point.”

“I don’t understand how you aren’t married.” That has mystified him for years. Always expecting to hear the news that you were engaged every time he called his mom. It had surprised him when he had ended up engaged and you still had not found a steady boyfriend, although you had both ended up in the same single status after a few years.

“I guess…the right guy just never came along.” You’d sooner die than admit that every guy you’ve ever been with has been accidentally compared to the man standing in front of you. “It happens.”

“Prince Charming?” He hates that he could never be that guy for anyone, but it wasn’t him.

“Prince Charming is overrated.” Sipping your punch, something about the whole thing just makes your heart clench and it feels like the world is taunting you even more than it was when you saw him walk in the door. “All I ever wanted was a partner I could be proud of. That seems to be too tall of an order.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Will admits softly. “I know plenty of men who would jump at the chance to be with someone who just wanted to have a loyal, loving partner.”

“I guess I just haven’t met the same guys as you.” It hurts your heart, clutches it and squeezes tight, that you never could bring yourself to admit that you liked him. Not out loud. Not to anyone but your sister. Wondering what could have been has poisoned your chances at finding someone else to the degree that you were doing a phony love spell ritual in your backyard less than three hours ago. He is literally everything you ever wanted and he’s standing right in front of you — but you can’t say the words. “Just like…” you swallow hard, shoving down the ache in your chest. “I know plenty of girls who just want someone honest and caring.”

“I’m honest.” At least he is in his personal life. Work is a different story, but he has regrets about that. “I care.” He shrugs, his leather wearing biker look making him look a little more dangerous than normal, but never as dangerous as he actually is. “Point me to the girl.” It’s an invitation, wanting to see what you would say.

“Will…” It feels like he’s just shoving the red hot poker of years’ worth of yearning deeper into your chest and you shake your head. “I’m just saying. It shouldn’t be so hard for you to find someone to make you happy. You’re a sweet guy and you always have been.”

He stares at you for a long moment, something curling in his chest, and he realizes that you will never admit it. “Had someone in mind when I asked.” He admits.

“Then you should probably talk to her about it, not me.” Ugly disappointment rises in your throat like bile and you shift in place uncomfortably. Of course he has someone in mind. He’s incredible and he deserves that happiness.

He decides to be a little more blunt than normal since you are obviously not getting the hint. “I am.” He tells you, lifting a brow at you in amusement.

"You—" No. No. You heard him wrong. You had to have heard him wrong. There is no way in the world There is no way because if that's true then how much time did you throw away by keeping your mouth shut? "No. That's—" Your head spins and you put down your cup, deciding that there is absolutely no need for alcohol when your head is spinning like this already. "What?"

“Circles and light and all that’s might.” Will murmurs, starting to grin. “Give me what I wish for tonight.”

"Oh....oh no..." The clench of panic that grabs hold of your chest when he starts reciting the damn 'spell' that your sister had written down in her notebook -- the ridiculous words you had been in giggle fits over in your backyard a couple of hours ago -- makes you take a step back from him as embarrassment settles into every bone in your body. "Did you--" Oh you're going to absolutely massacre your sister. "That's the most awful prank anybody could ever play on a person. Is my sister put you up to this I'm going to kill her."

“What?” Will frowns at you, confused as to why you look completely mortified. He had thought it was cute. “No.” He shakes his head. “Put me up to what?” He murmurs your name and steps closer to you. “She didn’t put me up to anything.”

"So it's...a coincidence?" You swallow hard, trying to wrap your head around absolutely any of this situation. "That my sister talked me into doing a stupid love spell on the same weekend you come home?" If you could curl up into a ball and hide forever, you would do it instantly. It still hasn't hit you that he's said out loud -- in a reasonably straightforward way -- that he's interested in you. "And that you heard me?"

“Benny insisted I come home this weekend.” Will defends, even though he had started to realize what the trick was this year and if it backfired on Ben - he was going to murder him. “I— I was in the backyard. I heard you and your sister giggling like when we were kids, so I pulled the board in the fence.” There’s a section of fence that you can remove a board easily and see into the other yard. He had never admitted it, but it was how he had often watched you while you were reading until he realized how creepy it was.

"What board in the fence?" There is a privacy fence that runs between your houses but for some reason it never really divided your yards, and you can't say that you ever thought about it very much before. Or now, clearly, since you're astonished to find out that it ever had a loose board.

“The one near the tree.” He licks his lips and has the decency to blush slightly. “It’s come loose since eight grade.”

The way your heels dig into the floor beneath you, it's like you're trying to dig a hole to the center of the earth to fall into feet first. "How...um...how much did you hear? Or see?"

“I just want to see you.” He admits, setting the cup down to shove in his pockets. “I heard the giggles and the ‘spell’. It was cute, reminding me of when you went through that phase in high school.”

"We...got drunk on margaritas last night and she managed to make it sound like a silly, harmless thing..." Mortified doesn't even begin to describe the way you're feeling. Your whole face is on fire with it. "I'm so embarrassed I could evaporate...I don't even know what else to say."

“It’s cute.” He insists, smiling softly at you as he shuffles closer. “I didn’t do some kind of love spell, but I was glad I heard yours.”

"You--?" Swallowing the lump of fear in your throat, you manage to not back up a step when Will comes closer. "You...were glad?"

“I am.” He agrees, his smile widening slightly as he reaches out and takes ahold of your waist and steps closer to you. “Because now I know that the crush I’ve had on you for most of my life hasn’t been moot.”

"You...what?" You gasp out, eyes shooting up to meet his when you finally realize what he's said.

“Guilty.” He hums, his smile managing to curve wider and he nods. “You’ve been that girl that I always wanted and never thought I could have.”

Something inside you swells, actually absorbing the words with the soft way he's looking at you. "All you ever had to do was say the word."

“You too.” He points out, lifting his brows in amusement. “Years ago.”

"Well how was I supposed to know?" You defend, finding that that feeling in your chest is bubbling and transforming into laughter and disbelief.

“You ask.” Will chuckles, leaning in and brushing his nose against yours. “You don’t rely on Love potion number nine.”

"You could have asked too." The warmth of him washes over you like the most gorgeous invitation in the world, taking your breath away and inviting you closer all at once.

“I guess I could have.” He admits. “Now I know.”

"So..." One of his hands is on your hip and he's bent down to keep your faces close, so all you have to do to hear each other is murmur. "What are we going to do with this new information?"

“I think we are going to have to leave this party.” He pretends to care about that, but there’s much more interesting things to do.

“Just like that?” Wherever he wants to go, whatever he wants to do, it doesn’t matter. Even the chance to be close to him in any way is worth it.

“You want to stay?” He asks seriously. If you want to stay, he will. Just for you.

“I…want to dance with you,” you admit, even though it feels silly. “Just once. After that we can go anywhere you want.”

“We can dance.” He agrees, chuckling slightly and nodding. “Let’s wait for the next song to start.” This one is a little more peppy than he would want for a dance.

“So Benny dragged you out here, huh?” He has his arm around your waist now and something in the back of your head tells you to just keep talking so you don’t start to worry it’s a dream. “Did he, um…did he…ya know…know?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” If he did, once things were official, he would probably crow and take all the credit for it. “Probably. I know he knew that I always had a thing for you.”

Sighing slightly, you shake off a laugh and bask again in the warmth of having him beside you. “I think our siblings may have meddled.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He rolls his eyes. “Can’t be mad at them, though.” He huffs. “Not when we would have been really bad about doing this ourselves.”

“Clearly.” You huff quietly. “We have been really bad about it.”

“Obviously.” Will snorts right as the song transitions into a slow song. “Ready to dance?”

“It feels like prom all over again.” When he holds his hand out to you, you settle your palm to his and try not to let out a shaky breath at how alarmingly right it feels.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that night?” He asks as he guides you out to the floor and spins you around to fit into his arms like you’ve always belonged.

“How badly?” Giddy glee and joyful awe are starting to supplant the confusion and disbelief in your heart, and you melt into him when he takes your hand in his on the dance floor.

“Remember how you kept asking if your lipstick was messed up?” Will reminds you, the hormones and embarrassment of youth had seemed impossible to overcome, but now you are grown. If it doesn’t work out, hopefully you could remain friends, but he doesn’t foresee it being an issue. You know him inside and out. “I was trying to decide if you would slap me if I stole a kiss.”

“It…wouldn’t have been stealing.” Your cheeks burn all over again at the memory. At how pathetically transparent you had been — but apparently not transparent enough. “That was my very bad attempt at hinting that I wanted you to kiss me.”

“No, I got it.” He promises, his blue eyes flashing possessively. “But I’m man enough to admit I don’t want to kiss you with an audience.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Think we can wait that long?”

“It’s been like fifteen years,” you point out, smothering a laugh at how ridiculous that actually sounds out loud. And how badly you’ve wanted a moment just like this one for so much longer than that. “I think a few more minutes won’t kill us.”

“It might.” He teases. “You look even more beautiful than you did on prom night.”

“Are you…” A smirk broadens your smile exponentially. “Are you flirting with me, William Miller?”

“Flirted with you a lot over the years.” He snorts. “But yes I am.”

“I guess it’s just the first time I’ve noticed.” You laugh work. Self-consciously. “Or wasn’t convinced it was just wishful thinking.”

“So tell me the truth.” Will grins. “Did you really drink that concoction you and your sister brewed? It smelled worse than. Benny’s gym bag.”

“Of course I drank it.” One hand would clutch your plastic pearl necklace but you would have to stop holding his hand and that’s simply not going to happen tonight. Instead, you pout to pretend to be offended. “It’s called committing to the bit.”

“Dedication.” He laughs, shaking his head and pulling you closer. “Then I think you should be happy to know that it worked.”

“Oh yeah?” The grin on your face turns beaming all over again, but you can’t help teasing him. “That little love spell planted a whole lifetime of yearning in you?”

“Nah.” He admits that easier than he had expected. “Just made it easier to talk about all this.”

“It did.” As much as you hate to admit it, your younger siblings’ meddling may have paid off. And you are convinced they meddled together. “It did, and I’m not upset about that at all.”

“You shouldn’t be upset about anything, beautiful.” Will murmurs softly, rocking you to the beat and smiling into your eyes.

Shrugging slightly, you're actually able to sink into his gaze for the very first time and end up feeling that ache in your chest twist in an entirely new way. "I'm a little upset we wasted so much time," you admit. "But better late than never."

“Yes it is.” Will pulls you off the dance floor as the song ends and starts to head towards the doors.

If you could think about anything beside the feeling of his arm around you, you might have remembered to fire off a text to your sister that you are taking off from the party early. But then, if you could think about anything else you might have noticed your sister standing on the other side of the room with Benny, giggling like conspiratorial idiots.

But it doesn't matter at all. It doesn't matter, because when you and Will make it out into the chilly night air, his arm tightens around you and you slip yours around his waist. Twined together like you were always meant to be.

He had driven. So he has the keys to the SUV. Guiding you over to it, he frames your body between the door and himself, pressing closer.

Your pulse ticks up immediately, heart rate skyrocketing, but you don't hesitate. Not when the thing – the person – you've wanted since you were old enough to want anyone at all. You reach up, hands set on Will's shoulders, and use that leverage to pull yourself up just a tiny bit more. This time it's your nose that nudges against his, but you don't pull away.

“So pretty.” Will murmurs, leaning against you more, feeling your body against the length of his as he tilts his head and fuses his lips to yours. Years of wanting pouring into the kiss.

Your hold tightens on him, hands sliding around his neck and into his long hair as his own wrap around your waist to drag you flush against him. There is no hesitation for either of you, diving deep into the kiss and sharing a mutual, needy moan at the fast-beating desire in that first kiss. You've both kept it locked up for far too long to pretend anymore. Now that the flood gates are open it seems to be all or nothing.

For Will, sinking into your embrace feels like coming home. The instant acceptance and love that swells make him desperate for more as he starts to lick into your mouth deeper.

For the hungry way you start to devour each other, you may as well be the teenagers you were when this mutual infatuation first started. If anyone were out in the parking lot to witness it, you're sure you would have gotten cat called or interrupted with a loud clearing of someone's throat to be shooed away to a more private location. As it is? The relative privacy of the parking lot means that you forget yourself and are tugging on the strands of Will's hair as his hands start to map the curves and contours of your body.

Will groans into your mouth, his arms banded around you and holding you close before trailing over your dress. He’s not shy about touching you, cupping your ass and his hardening cock twitches against your stomach. The whimper that he pulls out of you is unapologetic, knees shaking even as you tug on his hair sharply to pull a groan out of him as well. This is much more than a kiss would have been fifteen years ago. Still just as needy, but deeper, more sure. Will knows what he is capable of.

It takes a long time before either of you are willing to part, and when that time comes you're panting desperately while you try to maintain any sort of composure. "I, um—" But your thought breaks off when you realize you just can't string more than two words together yet. All you can think is more.

He grins, feeling as disoriented as you look, but he's been trained to handle overwhelming situations. "We should leave." He murmurs before leaning in and stealing another kiss. "Before we get arrested for public indecency."

"At the risk of sounding very teenage." You can't help but giggle at that, feeling like you're bubbling over in every way. "My parents are home. So maybe your place?"

He chuckles and lifts a brow, considering all of his options. "We could do that. Or we could go get a hotel room."

"Beaver Meadows?" Raising your own eyebrow to meet his, you offer the first hotel you can think of. The resort ranch for mountain tourists is on the other side of town but it's better than driving an hour out to Fort Collins.

He tilts his head slightly, shrugging one shoulder. "That's up to you. Don't know how you feel about being in my old bedroom and possibly hearing Benny catcall outside the door." His younger, dumber brother absolutely would.

"I care less about Benny and more about having to look your mother in the eyes tomorrow morning," you admit, laughing at even the idea of it. "I don't think she needs to hear me riding you."

Will's eyes flutter slightly and he growls softly. "Hotel it is." He decides, nodding to himself. "Do you want to swing by the house and get something? Or we can both do the walk of shame tomorrow."

"Nuh-uh." You shake your head animatedly, reaching up to place a much softer kiss on his lips. "I'm not ashamed of you. I don't care how many people see us in the same clothes or figure out what it means."

He hums and his hand slides up your back as he steps back, pulling you with him to open the passenger door. "Then let's go."

"We do have to make one stop." When you climb into the SUV together, you buckle your seatbelt and sigh happily as his fingers tangle with yours. He raises his eyebrow again but you shrug. "Condoms. I haven't been on a date in years so I stopped worrying about birth control."

"Fuck." Will hisses under his breath, cock twitching at that new piece of information. He can't say that he's not disappointed to not be able to feel you bare, but your comfort is more important than his ideal night. "Condoms, roger."

"I know." You squeeze his hand, sharing the feeling that you would rather be as close as possible. "But I doubt we want to risk it without."

He huffs out a small laugh, tapping the steering wheel after the engine is brought to life and he puts it in drive. "Don't bet on it." He jokes.

Turning your head immediately, you stare at him for a second before letting out a shaky laugh. "Not the first time," you bargain, feeling warm and flush and...deeply giddy at the way things are unfolding around you.

He flashes you a grin, feeling just as light hearted. "Yes ma'am." He promises, squeezing your hand and then looking back at the road as he pulls out.

******

It's a quick drive, mostly because Red Feather Lakes is such a small town. There's a Halloween party going on at the resort that you and Will look like you're immensely prepared for, but you just check into the last available room and happily accept the pair of leys handed to you by the young desk agent.

Will might have paid for the room, but he lets you lead the way to the room. Wanting to watch your ass as you walk, and to allow you time to change your mind if you wanted. Just because you both have wanted to be with each other since you were teenagers doesn't necessarily mean you are ready to jump into bed with him and he would respect that.

"Here we go." The room at the end of the fourth-floor hallway clicks open with a tap of your keycard, and you nudge open the door to reveal the ranch-themed room waiting for you. The rug looks like cowhide and the bedhead has horns, but you're barely looking at it. Instead you turn around, much more inclined to take in the sight of Will Miller as you reach for his hand to drag him inside with you.

You are enthusiastic, making him chuckle as he closes the door behind him. “Nice room.” He hums, not looking around, but staring at you. “But this view is better.”

Completely addicted now that you’ve had a taste of him, you toss your purse onto the nearest table without a second thought and go straight into his arms. “I’m certain mine is even better.”

He doubts that, but the eagerness in your eyes makes him groan as he pulls you against him again. “You are so damn beautiful.”

“Please tell me you put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?” Once you have him to yourself you’re not going to want to stop, so you’re damn well going to ask the question now.

He smirks and winks at you. “Of course I did.”

Your face splits into a grin. “You’re perfect.”

Will reaches up and caresses your cheek. “Shit.” His eyes widen. “We didn’t get the condoms.”

“Shit.” That grin slackens, and you realize along with a drop in your gut that you’d gotten so distracted by having Will’s hand inch up your thigh and under the skirt of your dress while he drove that you’d totally forgotten to stop.

“It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath, cursing himself for being too distracted by you. “You stay here. Get comfortable.” He points at himself. “I will be back in five minutes.”

"Thank you." Safety means the world to both of you, and you're not about to turn what could possibly be the best night of your life into the reason he resents you five years down the line when it results in a little kid and a marriage he would have felt forced to commit to. No way. If you and Will are going to be together you're going to make that decision together, not because of an accident.

“Five minutes.” He promises before he is out the door. He will make it in three and a half flat, but he adds extra time as a precaution.

As soon as the door closes behind him, you look around the room in a more flustered state of nervous excitement than you've ever been in your entire life. It takes about thirty seconds before you can think coherently enough to pick up the hotel phone and order a room service tray to be sent up -- ordering food that can safely sit until you're hungry and a bottle of wine to share because it feels more romantic that way. After that, you grab your phone from your purse and finally send that text to your sister.

Sissy: Don't wait up for me tonight. I left the party early.

Incoming text: You left with Will!!! Omgggggg it worked! You owe me that speech at your weddddddding!

Sissy: You and Benny are still on my shitlist. But yes. I left with Will. Happy Halloween, kid.

Instead of waiting for a reply, you put your phone on silent and tuck it back in your purse, sitting down amongst the pillows on the bed just seconds before the door opens again.

He’s out of breath and probably looked like a fucking idiot, but he doesn’t care. He’s got an entire box of condoms and he’s back before the time frame. “Got ‘em.”

"Four minutes." You grin, pointing at the clock on the wall. "I was just about to get undressed for you to have a fun surprise when you got back, but you're too efficient."

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Will throws the lock on the door and shoots you a dirty grin. “I like shows.”

"I did not think anyone was going to see what I have on under this dress," you warn him, but you shrug your shoulders and reach for the zipper of your costume. If he has a problem with the dumb saying on your little bootie shorts, you don't really care. They're cute and fun and that's what counts.

"I don't care what you have on under the dress." Will promises you. "It'll be on the floor soon enough." He strips off the biker vest and starts to kick off the boots he had worn with the outfit. They are his regular boots but they are laced up loose, so they slide off easily.

It's too unbelievable that you're actually undressing with Will with the purpose of climbing into bed together, that it almost seems like the tiny black booty short with the bright yellow Slippery When Wet logo on the ass that are revealed when your dress hits the floor, are simply there for comic relief. Like you need to break the tension of the situation and remember that you're just people.

You turn around to show him the lettering on your ass and he starts to chuckle. "Oh baby girl, I truly hope so." He pulls his shirt over his head, the last scar he collected on that botched job with the guys is healed, but it's still pink skinned so it looks alarming against the rest of his body. "I want to feel how wet you get."

"For you?" You grin, turning around to face him again. "It'll be record breaking, I promise." With just your bra and tiny shorts on, you start to climb onto the bed but pause when you catch sight of a new wound amongst all the well-healed scars. It doesn't matter what it is, or how he got it. You bend down, placing a soft kiss on the pink skin that stands out against his tan, and then settle your knees on either side of his hips. There are more clothes to shed, but the battle wounds that mark his skin are a stark reminder of how close you came to never having this moment together at all.

Will grabs your hands, holding them for a moment while he stares at you. The softness of your touch was soothing, and he lifts your hands to his lips. "You've always been there for me." He murmurs. "Now I want to see what we can be together."

"Truth is?" You squeeze his hands gently before letting go and letting your hands drop to his belt, toying with the buckle before he nods his consent and you start to work the strap loose. "I've always been yours. So whatever we're going to be? I'm all in."

"Me too." He can quickly agree with that. "I'll just – I should have asked you out when I came home from boot camp."

“It’s alright. We got here eventually.” His belt pulls loose from his jeans and you fuse your mouth to his, letting the kiss burn you and swallow you and take you wherever you’re going to go tonight. Room service will be left outside your door and you’ll refuel for round two when you’re ready.

Will touches you, mapping your body with his hands and memorizing every curve and dip with pleasure. Finally touching you like he has imagined over the years.

It’s far more certain than it would have been then. Wandering hands have purpose and searching kisses pressed against bared skin find their mark every time. Those damn condoms are probably the only thing that keep the first time from lasting more than five minutes — both of you are so touch starved that finally getting the touch you’ve been wanting feels exponentially more wonderful.

Will pants, collapsing against you before rolling onto his side and bringing you with him. One leg dragged over his hips to keep you close and your chest pressed against his as he catches his breath. “Fuck.” He chuckles, unable to stop touching you even though he’s exhausted from how overwhelming his orgasm was. “I think I died and this is heaven.”

“Noooo,” you giggle against his chest, damp with sweat, and leave a kiss over his heart. “If you died we can’t do that anymore and that can’t be the only time we do that.”

His eyes are closed and he smiles. "You mean we aren't both dead?" He jokes.

“No, babe.” You laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “You’re thinking of le petit morte.”

“Same thing right?” He grins, rubbing his hand up and down your slightly sweaty back. “We should have done this prom night.”

“Can you imagine?” The thought settles over you like a dreamy blanket. “We would have been inseparable.”

“We’d have four kids by now.” Will predicts. “I’d probably be a Major.”

“You think?” It sounds positively dreamy, you have to admit. Except for one detail. “I don’t think you would have stayed in. You’d have retired like you did anyway. But I like the sound of a big family.”

“Probably not.” He will disagree with you on that. “The stability for that many kids.” He points out. “I wouldn’t have chased contracts.”

“Well…” Knowing that he’s safer now and that he’s searching for a new adventure anyway, you offer him a smile. “Who knows what would have happened if we’d done this back then. But we get to decide what happens next.”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and pulls you closer. “We will have to talk about that.”

“Hold that thought.” Pressing another kiss to his skin, you crawl out from under his arm and wrap yourself up in a robe to slip out to the hall and grab the room service tray. You bring it back inside along with the bottle of wine and shoot him a grin. “I planned ahead,” you tell him, setting down the charcuterie tray on the room’s coffee table.

"You are perfect." Will groans, tucking his arm under his head and watching you with zero shame. He still can't believe you are here, even after taking off the condom to dispose of in the little trash can by the bed. "Are you hungry now, or do you want to wait?"

“Maybe we can eat and drink and talk?” It seems like a very civilized way to do it, even if you’re going to be doing some very uncivilized leering at the same time. Will looks even better with his clothes off than you ever dreamed.

"Bring it over here." He smirks as he pats the bed beside him. The bare spot noticeable now that you slipped out of it. "We can eat in bed just this one time, I think."

“Special permission for a special occasion.” You agree with a nod. The tray is beautifully set up but the cheese is set aside in a container on ice as you requested and the kitchen has sent up some chocolate dipped strawberries as well. “I guess they got our vibe when we checked in.” It wouldn’t have been too hard to do, of course, but it makes you smile as you slip back under the covers beside him.

"Wonder if they think it's an affair or elopement." Will takes the bottle from you, sitting up and quickly peeling off the foil to uncap the cork.

“Maybe.” The two wine glasses that came with everything are basic and a little on the small side, which is probably good for balancing everything in bed or on nightstands. “How very mysterious of us.”

"Very mysterious." Will agrees as he pours out the wine and sets the bottle onto the nightstand so it doesn't get knocked over. "I think their theories will only get more absurd the more noise we make." He teases, tapping his glass to yours.

“In that case I’ll be louder,” you tease, leaning over to steal a kiss before your first sip of wine.

He snorts and takes a sip of his wine. "I wonder if those shit heads set us up for this entire thing." He ponders. "The spell, being here and Benny reminding me that you had moved home. Knowing I would go into the backyard."

“Oh, I guarantee it.” Although you studiously avoid mentioning that your sister is already predicting a wedding. That is far too much pressure. “They’re going to gloat forever.”

"Jesus." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Yeah they are. Unless we can get them together."

“Do we really want to do that, though?” It sounds amusing, but the logistics would be a nightmare. “They’d gloat and try to be cuter than us.”

"It would be mildly amusing." He chuckles. "But you're right. The headache wouldn't be worth it."

“But…” Glancing up at him, you take another sip of wine and reach for the tray to keep your hands busy. “We should probably talk. About…whatever this is.”

“We should.” Will agrees. His face pulls into something serious, wanting to take this conversation cautiously, not make demands or put too much pressure on you. “Do you want to go first?”

“I’m not sure I know where to start,” you admit, although it’s mostly out of fear that you’ll ask too much and scare him off.

“Do you see yourself staying here?” He asks. “Would you want me to move? Try long distance?”

“I never intended to stay here. It was supposed to be temporary and I’ve been here for years.” The offer to have him move is unexpected, but more than anything you know that the third alternative won’t be satisfying or comfortable for you. “I don’t think long distance would be ideal, but I know that moving in together right away is way too much to ask for.” The two of you slowly start to snack on your tray and you consider him beside you. So incredibly handsome, loyal, and always a pillar of strength. “But…if you wanted me to come out to Florida, I would.”

“Ben and I bought a house.” He explains. “It was cheaper than renting and it’s one that needed some work.” He shrugs slightly. “If you wanted to come to Florida, you have a place to stay until you decide if you could stand me long term or not.” He huffs out a laugh to keep it lighthearted.

“I’m not worried about that.” Slipping your free hand into his, you lace your fingers together and give it a gentle, encouraging squeeze. “It’s…sort of a relationship test drive. Dive into the deep end and see how we do. When we’re ready to say it’s working, I can officially make the move.” In your heart you know it will. It’s all you’ve wanted for so long that you’re willing to fight tooth and nail to have it. To have him.

“That would be good.” He agrees with you about being cautious, even though he believes it will work out. “Especially since you are mobile.”

“My office is wherever I am.” You nod and press a kiss to his hand before letting go again. “And where I want to be is with you.”

“So why don’t you come visit me this next week?” He offers. “You can see where we live. See if you like it.”

“I feel like I should pinch myself.” When you smile at him, it is bright and warm, tinged with disbelief. “Teenage me is getting everything she ever wanted.”

“That’s a good thing, baby.” He reminds you. “You should have everything you want.”

"So should you." As far as you're concerned? Having him completes that list of wants in a way you never expected. You had given up on the dream of Will Miller years ago, only to find your world turned upside down and the man of your teenage dreams in bed beside you.

“Right now, I can’t think of anything else I want than what I have right here.” He murmurs softly.

"Oh yeah?" You face splits into a grin all over again. "Well, I'm very glad we agree."

“So now that we have a plan, what else?” He picks up a cube of cheese and pops it into his mouth. “Do you want to go on birth control? Do you want to use condoms? Do you want to start working on kids?”

"Those are three very different options." The casual way he tosses out kids as an option makes your ears burn like they're on fire and your heart skip two beats. "Offering me space in your house and talking about kids while we eat snacks in bed after the first time we have sex?" You giggle softly, brimming with disbelief at how right it all feels. Still, you have to tease him. "Might as well whip out a ring or plan an elopement, Miller."

“Jewelry stores are closed.” Will hums and smirks at you as he takes off the skull ring he still has on his finger. “But this could work.”

That light, ribbing tone evaporates from your voice and your eyes widen, flicking between his face and the ring. "Are you...do you really mean it?" Instead of being high and laughing, your voice cracks in shock, but only because you've hit another level of shock and awe in what was already a perfect night.

He has only been partly joking, but the second your eyes go wide, he realizes that he’s serious. He’s known you all his life, he’s loved you for most of it. If Tom’s death taught him anything, it’s that he never knows when his ticket might be punched. Why shouldn’t he be serious? “We could get you a real ring later on.” He rationalizes. “But a skull ring is appropriate for Halloween.”

"How about this?" The way you just want to leap forward and say yes and dive in headfirst is the sex and the wine and the fantasies talking. Will deserves all of that, but also the measure of love that is support and care. He deserves someone who is going to take care of him. And if you're going to be that person, you want to do it right. "I'm going to wear this skull until we decide that we're ready for me to move to Florida once and for all. When that happens, we can go ring shopping and start talking about kids. How does that sound?" You really don't think it will take long. Not with the way tonight has gone. "If that's in two weeks or two months or two years, it doesn't matter. We decide together."

“That sounds perfect.” He flashes you a perfect set of white teeth with a gigantic smile. “Happy Halloween, baby.” He murmurs before he presses his lips to yours, thinking that Benny’s Halloween prank might have actually been a good one this year.

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[xdacted]

You and Me (always forever)

Paring: Reader X Max Verstappen

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of child abuse

Word Count: 2,060

Status: Complete

____________________

Max was so dead. 

He was going to be in so much trouble if his father caught him. But that threat has never stopped him before, it certainly won’t start tonight. 

He knew better than this, better than sneaking out before a race, but he had seen her. She was on the makeshift paddock earlier, standing with her helmet tucked right beneath her arm. The practice for that day had gone well, he’d lost out to p1 by merely hundredths of a second, but of course, that was never good enough. 

Jos had torn into him. Berating him in their garage, swearing and pushing at his shoulders. Max didn’t want to cry, he didn’t want to scream, he just wanted to hide. He hated when his dad screamed at him, especially when he did it infront of everyone. When he did it infront of her. 

She found him after his father stormed off, Jos demanding that he clean up the mess on his own. There was a worried look in her eye, face red with anger. It was cute and it made Max burst into laughter. 

“He shouldn’t speak to you like that,” She said, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring at the direction in which his father left, “It’s wrong.”

“He’s my dad,” Max tried explaining to her that it was just the way things were. His dad didn’t hate him, Jos was trying to make him better, stronger. He was the son of a Formula one driver, Max couldn’t embarrass him. 

“Exactly,” She stepped closer to him, throwing her hands in the air, “You’re his son!”

With a roll of his eyes, Max turned away to begin disassembling his kart. If he didn’t get started now, he’d be here until sundown. She was silent for a long while, standing at the opening of their garage, just watching him collect the tools and roll the tires away, until she let out a loud groan. 

“You don’t have to help,” Max reminded her, but it never made a difference. 

She began to wipe down the tool box, smoothing out the paint of his kart. He’d nearly lost himself on turn five and it caused a rock to crack at the side of his kart, the thought made his face burn. He hated making mistakes, he hated it when he wasn’t able to perform the way he wanted - the way he should. 

His father demanded perfection, but it was more than that. Max knew he could achieve it. He knew that he was special and he hated when he let childish mistakes hold him back from that. He was only 9, but that didn’t mean a thing. He needed to be ready. He needed - 

“Will you meet me under the track?”

He nearly dropped the rags in his hands, “Tonight?”

“No!” She mocked, “Tomorrow. Yes, tonight.”

They’d been meeting there since they were six. It was a little ditch right underneath a part of the track. The grass was smooth and at this time, it was filled with dandelions. It was their place, their space away from everyone else. It was just for them. 

“Yeah,” He muttered, “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” She turned to him, tossing him a wrench, “See you then.”

It’s how he was there now, standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking around. He always waited for his father to fall asleep before slipping out of the motorhome, Jos never woke up - far too a heavy sleeper - but it still made his stomach curl with anxiety. 

Max shivered in the night wind, the calm roll of the air blowing past him. The blades of grass danced in the moonlight, with the dandelions nearly glowing as bright as the stars. It was beautiful here. Just him and the sky. 

Dark and mysterious, an infantate void of emptiness. Sometimes he wondered what it was like to be a star, be so high above that no one could ever hurt you. Safe from screaming and shoving, twinking so brightly that everyone looked at you. Everyone loved you. Being so warm, right beside the moon and the sun. 

It must be a beautiful life. 

“Max!” Her voice pulls him back to himself. He blinks a few times, eyes suddenly stinging. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been like that, staring into the distance, but she marches up to him. 

“You’re shivering!”

Before he can utter another word, she’s throwing a blanket around him, it’s a wool one - one that her mother made her for Christmas. She’s quick to set her backpack down, pulling the fabric around his shoulders, fussing around his collar. 

“I always tell you to bring a blanket and you never do!”

“Because you always do…”

His words don’t leave him with their normal snark, emotions still thick in his throat. For a moment, she pauses. Her bright eyes meeting him, Max can’t take it. They pierce right through him, she can see all of him. There’s nothing he can hide from her. 

He hates it. 

When he tears his gaze away, she catches him. Her warm hands are at either of his cheeks, directing him right back to her. It’s odd. Even with the intensity of her eyes, Max never feels judged. There’s nothing that he fears she might see, he just hates that he can’t hide how weak he is. He hates that all his insecurity is right for her to see. 

But Max is sure she’s seen it more than once, plenty of times, and yet, here she is. She hasn’t run. 

“Of course, I do,” She huffs after a long while, breaking their staring contest first, “You always forget.”

He can see, even in the darkness, that her cheeks are red, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. It makes his stomach flip. She settles beside him, pulling her pack closer to her. She digs within it for a moment, pulling out a pack of gummy worms - their favorite. 

It was definitely contraband form her older brother, neither of them were allowed candy on race weekends. She unwrapped it like it’s a delicate piece of china, the wrapper crushing under her administration. Max has lost count of the amount of gummies they’ve shared here, the number far above what he can remember. 

She scoots closer to him, and he wordlessly opens up the blanket for her. There’s another, sitting right in her bag, but she never uses it. She fixes the blanket on their shoulders, moving closer until they’re huddled into a pile of limbs. 

Max thinks that they might be getting too old for this. He can feel their knees knocking together, over the summer he’d grown taller, and now the fabric was hanging lopsided on his shoulder. The thought frightens him. 

To think that one day they’re going to be too old to do this, sit here with the stars at their special place. 

He fears that one day it won’t be special anymore, that one day it’ll just be a patch of grass. Max hadn’t ever really given much thought as to what his life would look like after that. Even when he imagines himself as a Formula One World Champion, he thinks of celebrating here, dancing among the dandelions with her. 

Would it all come crashing down?

Would she still be there?

Would it -?

She smacks him in the face with a worm, pushing the bag into his hands, “Where are you?”

“OW!” He grumbles, snatching it from her, “I’m right here!”

“You drifted away again,” She said, moving closer to him. 

Max turned away, digging his fingers into the bag. He grabbed at the gummies, popping them into his mouth. It was his favorite flavor, he hadn’t been allowed to have candy in such a long time. 

She said he drifted away a lot. Saying that she could always tell when he wandered into the depths of his mind, it made Max squirm. They had known each other so long and had grown together - their roots forever intertwined. He often forgot that just as easily as she could look into his mind, he could see hers. 

When he looked over at her again, she was picking at the skin of her fingers, her cheek caught between her teeth. There she was, getting angry in his place. She felt his emotions for him, especially when it came to his father. 

For Max, his feelings were far too heavy to bear. He could never truly understand just how much pain he was in, never allowing himself to dwell in it. That was a weakness. But for her, she reveled in the emotions he couldn’t bring himself to feel. 

Max reached over, interlacing their fingers. He could feel the searing glare she sent his way, but she left her hand in his. He traced stars into her skin. 

“I don’t like how he treats you,” She pushes herself closer to him, cheek pressed against his shoulder, “ ‘s not right.”

Max rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother trying to explain it this time, she never listens. It was just the way things were. It was life. 

She doesn’t let the silence linger for too long, sighing loudly.

“I would never yell at you…” She mumbles. 

“You yelled at me when you got here.”

She lifts her head from his shoulder, craning her neck to look at him, “You didn’t have a blanket! I always tell you to bring a blanket! You could freeze to death!”

Though her voice is loud, echoing in the night air, it doesn’t scare him. It doesn’t feel like she’s yelling at him. Max can’t help it, he bursts into laughter. Tears spring to his eyes as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. 

She snatches her hand back, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout, “It’s not funny…”

It was hilarious. 

Max’s stomach curls, he can hardly breathe. He catches himself on his knees, trying to study his heart. There’s a part of his brain that knows he’s being too loud, that if his father were to hear him - he’d be dead. But he can’t help it. 

He laughs.

Eventually, she begins to laugh too. 

Small chuckles that morph into a howling laughter, the smile on her face bright. Max thinks he’s staring into the sun. It feels like they never stop, rolling around on the grass, the blanket falling from their shoulders. 

Truly, Max isn’t even sure why they’re laughing anymore, but he never wants to stop. 

Their cackles die into silence, only the sound of their gasping breaths left as evidence of their fit. They’ve fallen onto their backs, staring up at the sky. 

With the race track lights off, there’s nothing to see but the slivers of stars. The dandelions curl around their bodies, tickling the backs of their necks. 

If growing up means never having this again, Max decides that he never wants to. 

“Maybe one day I’ll save you.”

Max snickers, sparing her a look, “You can’t save me!”

“Why not?!”

“You’re a girl!” He feels the laughter building back in his stomach. 

With an over dramatic gasp, she shoves him. He moves further onto the grass, barking laughter into the blades. He can’t believe it. His stomach still sore from the fit only moments ago. 

“I’m serious.”

Max knows she is. When it comes to him she always is. He takes a peek at her. The curve of her nose and lips outlined by the moon, she’s so beautiful. Max thought that he might love her. Just staring at her, no one to breathe a word about this but the stars. And he was more than sure that they would keep his secret. 

He loves her, but loving things makes it complicated. 

He wasn’t ready for that. 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” He whispers, clutching her hand in his, “Not if we’re together.”

She doesn’t say anything, but Max can feel her heart beating. Her pulse is steady and strong. She’s a constant. Max knows that if he can just be in her orbit - just like a moon orbiting a planet - he’ll be fine. If he could just be near her, he would never need an understanding father. He’d have her. 

That’s all he would need. 

She squeezes his hand, “Just you and me.”

“Always forever.”

____________________

A/N:This work has been cross posed on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to requests fics about any of the drivers <3

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k

Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do. 

I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat. 

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one. 

Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.

Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me. 

Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi. 

Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her. 

The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become. 

This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this. 

It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time. 

What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.

And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto. 

Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.

He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out. 

But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him. 

He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.

“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated. 

Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action. 

Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.

“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!” 

—

“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway. 

“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that. 

He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him. 

So you do it again. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.

“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him. 

“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!” 

“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”

Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.” 

Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance. 

You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.

“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.” 

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest. 

“Stay out of my way, then.”  

“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.” 

“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”

—

Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had. 

See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.

Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft. 

In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.  

Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound. 

He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask– 

“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”

On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first. 

“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.” 

Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”

“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”

Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs. 

But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something. 

But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips. 

He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.

“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”

You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.   

“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”

“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”

“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.” 

A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”

“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day. 

Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.

“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“

“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”

“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”

Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win. 

He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking. 

But he’s done it.  

Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second. 

Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell. 

“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”

Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.” 

And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

“Nicole Summers.”

“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”

“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”

“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”

“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”

You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick. 

“How was it?” you press. 

Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”

Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”

“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”  

Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass. 

Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”

“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.

“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping. 

“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.

“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again. 

“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face. 

Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights. 

“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?” 

“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.” 

Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you. 

“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”

That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh. 

“Combination lock, huh?”

“Allegedly.”

“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.” 

Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”

Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”

He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t. 

You’re drunk. 

If you can stay drunk, all bets are off. 

If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk. 

You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan. 

And it would mean nothing. 

And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.

But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat. 

“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”

So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home. 

“Oh, shit!” 

Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.

Trembling.

“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”

Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus. 

He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.

Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–” 

But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other. 

Fuck. He can’t leave you like this. 

You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there. 

“Uh– Lacy?” 

The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door. 

A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you? 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful. 

Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–? 

“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.” 

“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon. 

“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”

But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position. 

“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands. 

What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed. 

“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.” 

It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face. 

“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.” 

–

You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive. 

“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.

You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver. 

“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness. 

Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it. 

“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”

She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy. 

You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that. 

So somebody must have. 

Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile. 

Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet. 

Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.

Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada. 

Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax. 

“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.” 

Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts. 

“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”

“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.” 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare. 

“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”

Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”

“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing. 

“Wayne–”

“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.” 

He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night. 

He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.

–

Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover. 

It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s. 

You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?

Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?

But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life. 

The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess. 

Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day. 

You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.

You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that. 

Regret stabs at you.

“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi. 

“What?”

“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?” 

Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”

“Ugh, thank god.”

“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.” 

You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van. 

“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you. 

“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”

“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”

Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.” 

He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.” 

You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”

“You’re never late for first period.” 

“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?” 

“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.” 

It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would. 

Until now. 

And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him. 

Until now. 

“So?” he says, all expectant. 

And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure. 

The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded. 

But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson? 

Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust. 

You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot. 

As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.  

You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk. 

“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”

You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”

Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum. 

Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand. 

Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body. 

She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park. 

“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…” 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”

“Huh?”

“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”

You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.” 

Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now. 

Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight. 

“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little. 

Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be. 

“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

–

Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine. 

But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap. 

Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die. 

Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.

You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor. 

Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night. 

“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker. 

She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her. 

Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape. 

“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says. 

This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at. 

“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table. 

There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart. 

You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you. 

Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.

“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”

author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats

[beastszai]

✦ Dazai and Chuuya childhood headcanons (2/2) ✦

part 1

!!! THIS POST CONTAINS STORMBRINGER SPOILERS !!!

♫ Orchard - OMORI

✧ warnings : STORMBRINGER SPOILERS・mentions of s*icide, death, hospitalization, alcoholism, etc.・angst・pure angst…・ooc (???)

✧ a/n : got way too long im sorr… but I love chuuya so much and all these headcanons have been eating dust in the back of my head and im so happy (lie) to finally post them

w/c : 950

!!! these are just personal headcanons and are not accurate to the canon story !!!

✦ Chuuya :

Chuuya’s parents weren’t blessed with a child even after years of marriage…

…So when he was born, they were so happy that they celebrated 3 days and nights (like the real Chuuya Nakahara !!)

Such a sweet boy… very polite and a tiny bit shy

He actually had an amazing bond with both his parents

And they loved him a lot, too!

How mini Chuuya would help his mom around the house, how he would randomly tell her that he loves her :,^)

Chuuya was probably interested in his father’s work (military doctor, like the real Chuuya’s father!!)

AUGHH he would peek at his dad working with those big blue curious eyes

Also, unlike Dazai, I headcanon that Chuuya has siblings!

2 little sisters!!

When his first little sister was born, he was probably around 3 or 4

Was quick to grow attached to his sister

And when his second sister came around, he was around 7

Was very overprotective of his sisters, and had a big soft spot for them

Would piggyback carry their younger sister every morning to school while holding his other sisters hand

Brilliant kid

Adored by absolutely everyone and everything

Chuuya and the family dinners with the rest of the Nakahara family SIGHHH

His mom always worried about him not eating enough (even though he did.)

His dad developed this hobby and habit of checking Chuuya and his sisters’ heights and mark them on the wall

Chuuya wasn’t the happiest when he figured that his younger sister was nearly the same height as him…

And regarding Stormbringer and how he was put in a lab…

Ohhh how his mom was losing her mind over Chuuya’s father allowing such a thing

His family kind of… grew distant and fell apart from then on

Constant arguing between his parents while he was in the lab… how his sister would cover their younger sister’s ears each time they’d argue

She’d ask where Chuuya had gone every now and then, but it was like a forbidden topic in the house

His mom would either tear up or just lash out on his sister

And his dad would yell and cuss her out, saying things like “Goddammit stop asking stupid questions! He’s fine for god’s sake!!! Be patient and he’ll be back sooner than you think!!!”

Chuuya’s dad wasn’t very happy with the decision he made either

Regretting it like crazy and losing sleep, losing focus…

And once the news broke that their one and only son was dead (aka his clone… fuck stormbringer bro…)

His family was worse than ever before.

Chuuya’s dad cried… a lot. Fell into being an alcoholic for a long time

His sisters? Despite their young age and how they couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of death…

They were devastated. Completely had their hearts and souls shattered

But his mom… she was the worst out of them all

It broke her so much that she couldn’t even cry over her son’s death

She was left in a daze, unaware of her surroundings and just… in her own world

Though, once it registered in her mind? How she would scream and cry at odd hours of the night, begging for Chuuya…

She would push away anyone who would try to comfort her, hit them and curse them out, only wanting Chuuya

Even though Chuuya’s ‘death’ had sunk in and she understood it, she’d scream at everyone to get away from her and that ‘only Chuuya can come close to her’

S*icide attempts became a regular thing

…the amount of times Chuuya’s dad was called during work hours and just rushed home to stop his wife from taking her life…

His sister lost sleep and stopped being the top student at school because of how difficult everything had become

Their younger sister was a bit better, considering she was small

But it still hurt, she’d call Chuuya out of habit, just to remember that he was never gonna answer her calling out to him

His mom’s situation got so bad that she was hospitalized for years

And even now that the entire Nakahara family has accepted Chuuya’s ‘death’

His mom hasn’t. She’s doing a lot better than before getting hospitalized but…

She always seems to be spaced out. She doesn’t smile or laugh, and even when she does… it seems forced and it’s only for a brief moment

His mom doesn’t talk much, not to anyone

She often spends her time talking to framed pictures of Chuuya. She still cries every now and then, but tries to hide it…

And honestly? I think that Chuuya has considered going back to his family

He’s coincidentally seen his sisters and made sure they got home safely from school/work while watching from afar… then return to his own work

It scares him to go back, not only because of him putting their lives on the line for being a mafia executive

But also because he’s supposed to be ‘dead’. That’s what his family believed and has learned to live with…

So if he were to show up at his childhood home, he’d make them confused

And he can’t even imagine how they would react if he were to go back

So Chuuya just watches over them from a distance…

But maybe, just maybe one day he’ll gather up the courage and listen to the voice in his head telling him to go back

That day won’t be anytime soon, not now. He can’t go back until he’s sure the time is right for him to do so.

Until then, Chuuya just prays that they’ll stay safe and alive…

That’s when he can return to his family, his home…

[lloydskywalkers]

I recently reread Skywalker syndrome (still as amazing as it was on day one like... holy shit your writing is so goddamn good-)and during the part where Lloyd argues with Wu I realized something and now I wanna ask

Do you think that some point during his recovery from Morro, Lloyd had this moment of snapping where he screamed at his uncle about keeping secrets like that and literally mentioning that this one nearly killed him?

asdsgfd thank you so much!! :D the Lloyd and Wu argument was possibly my favorite part to write, which is going to be incredibly ironic considering my answer to this.

Short answer: while I think Lloyd would feel very much hurt, I don’t think he would snap at Wu? At this particular point. Give him three more seasons of developing traumatic anger issues then he’d go off. 

Long (long, long, long) answer!

I think Wu is one of the people Lloyd would have the hardest time losing his temper with, especially considering the timing. Post-Sons of Garmadon Lloyd and Post-Possession Lloyd are in considerably different positions in life, but also weirdly similar ones, if you take into account that Possession Lloyd is coming off of Tournament of Elements (season 4), because from Lloyd’s view of things-

1) He's already been on his own prior to this, having lost Zane,

2) Kai, one of the most important people in his life and someone he looks up to, told him he never deserved to be the Green Ninja and is apparently angry enough to hurt him for that, and

3) He just lost his father, who he’s barely had at all, and it’s entirely on his own hands.

On top of that, you've got the whole letter fiasco, so Lloyd’s now left with the possibility that he himself might be a mistake. Obviously I think there’s a lot more that goes into Garm and Misako’s relationship than one letter, but Lloyd’s not exactly the most perceptive person in the world around season 4 :( 

All this to say that Lloyd is probably in a very terrible no self-confidence place of mind, which I have a billion zillion thoughts on because Lloyd’s literally never had a win he gets to keep — he defeats the Overlord but not really, and Zane has to pay the price to make up for that. He saves his father but not really because now he has to banish him. He keeps messing up and doing something wrong, but all he's done is follow what he's been told so he doesn't know what that is. The only thing he has is that the Green Ninja was supposed to win. Lloyd lost. 

Then you have Wu and Lloyd's relationship, which I think Lloyd values highly because for the most part, Wu is the most present family member in Lloyd's life. And for all that Garmadon and Misako love and care for him, Wu was the first person to give Lloyd a home. The first person to give him a place to belong, the first person to give him a chance, and the first person to truly believe in him. 

And as far as Lloyd can see, all he's done is failed to live up to that belief. So I think he’d be likely to see it less as Wu failing him, and more him failing Wu — maybe there was a reason Wu kept Morro from him, and maybe he won’t like the answer. 

I do think he’d be a lot more likely to snap about his dad’s monastery being turned into a tea shop, but I don’t think he’d reach boiling point quite yet. The other ninja might, though. Cole over here stuck as a ghost...

(Crystalized Lloyd, on the other hand! oh boy) 

Anyways there's cia’s tuesday night rant about Lloyd stay tuned for more nonsensical rambling :’D  

[simplydannie]

Hi ! Can you write a Velvet centered fanfic ? Maybe where she gets hurt and doesn’t say anything until it gets bad because she doesn’t wanna been seen as weak

Haii!!

Okay you got it! Forgive me if it takes awhile by the time I post this lol I wanna make sure it’s decent for you! I also work on the fics off and on as I have other stuff too 😊 Okay let’s see how this would go:

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ Mention of blood and g*nshots

The twins are on the run. A gang of Rageons hunt them down. Velvet finds herself injured, but she keeps it hidden… she needs to be strong, she has too…

They ran and ran. They could hear the screaming and yelling coming from behind them…

“Damn succubi get back here!!”

“Don’t look back! Keep running!” Velvet yelled as she pulled her brother.

“Where? Where are we running?” Veneer asked nearly tripping as his sister pulled him by his sleeve.

“ANYWHERE!!”

She maneuvered them into an alley. She followed the twists and turns hoping it would lead to a way out…. Dead end.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She murmured. Glancing up at the wall there was nothing for them to climb…

“A window!” Veneer exclaimed. He got near, bending down, holding his palms together, he motioned for his sister to go up first.

“What about you?”

“Pull me up when you’re through… JUST HURRY! They’re coming!”

Their pursuers footsteps could be heard echoing down the ally way. Veneer boosted his sister up through the broken window, she reach out to grab her brother pulling him in.

Thankfully, the building was empty. She grabbed his wrist and lead him through the dark abandoned building. Velvet knew it would be a matter of time before they figured out where they went. They best not be there when they did.

It felt like hours, but the twins finally made it out of the building and through the front door. Velvet let out a sigh of relief… they were in the clear… for now. She stared up and around what was the city of Under Rageous. A scowl came across her face…she couldn’t believe she was back. She couldn’t believe the life of luxury and fame was over. What’s worse, the thugs of the under-city knew who they finally were…. No, not pop sensation super stars Velvet and Veneer…. The daughter and son of one of the most ruthless crime lords in the under-city….and now bounties were on their head.

“We need to get the hell out of here.” She declared, “Let’s make a run for the border… I know a way we can escape.” She said.

Veneer frowned, “Vels there’s nothing but the woods surrounding us, you know how dangerous that is?”

“Nothing different than what we’re facing here Ven!”

“….. Maybe we can go back to….”

“No.”

“But…. He’s our dad. He’ll…”

“I said no! I’ll be on my death bed before going back to him again! After all he’s done and treated you Vennie, you still want to go back?”

“….. he’s our dad…..”

“He’s a nobody!”

“Now, now, what will daddy think if he hears you talking like that?” The voice startled them. They turned and a saw the Rageons had finally caught up to them… they lingered to long. The twins backed away until they saw they were surrounded…. There was no way out.

“Just leave us alone!” Velvet demanded placing a protective arm over her brother.

The Rageon smirked, “Don’t you know how famous you two are now in the under-city? I mean you did want to be somebodies after all didn’t you?” He took out a knife and waved it in the air, “You think your daddy would mind if we sliced you up a bit?” He reached over and grabbed Velvet by her wrist.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Her brother lashed out but was grabbed by a second goon behind him.

“Let us go!!” She kicked and fought against her captor. He pinned her to the floor hovering over her, a scowl of disgust on her face.

“You’re feisty, and cute…. I like that combination.” He smirked at her, running his finger along her cheek.

“In your wildest dreams!”

SMACK!!

She headbutted the goon straight in the nose. He screamed and fell back holding on to his nose for dear life.

“She broke it! Little bitch broke it!!!”

Velvet reached over and grabbed the knife he dropped. She ran to the Rageon who still held her brother and stabbed him square in the leg. He yelled in pain dropping Veneer to the floor.

“HURRY UP! RUN!!” She began to pull him again. They didn’t make far enough when they began hearing it…

BANG! BANG!

The twins could feel the bullets buzz by them. Pulling Veneer she dove underneath an opening that lead into another alley way…

Thats when Velvet felt the scorching pain on her side. She fell to her knees… but she didn’t cry, she didn’t scream… she sucked in the pain…

“Vels!” Veneer called out trying to pull her to her feet.

“I’m fine. I just tripped.” She lied as she stood up, “Keep going come on!” She gripped her side as she ran.

They really had no sense of direction, they just ran until they could feel they were safe. Eventually they came upon an old abandoned factory.

Velvet lead them inside. She saw it was an old mining factory, containing numerous levels. They could easily find something and hide for the night at least. So, she kept walking.

The more she ran, the more she was walked, the more pain scorched her body. She leaned against the wall, “Wait, let catch my breath really quick.”

Veneer nodded, “I’ll look ahead just a bit more okay?”

“Whatever.” When she saw the coast was clear, that her brother wasn’t near, she removed her hand from her side….a bullet wound….blood. How much has she bled out? She looked back from where they came from… Crap. There was a small trail of blood… she’d lead the goons right to them. But she couldn’t tell her brother. He’d freak out. He was relying on her for strength, she just couldn’t do that to him. She peeked making sure Veneer wasn’t coming back. Taking a piece from her skirt, she wrapped it around her wound and pulled it tight, hopefully good enough to stop the bleeding… at least momentarily.

“Come on!” She hears her brother call out as he approached her again, “A little bit further. Maybe we can find like a break room we can stay in.”

“Let’s just go.” She pushed past him as she lead the way….

…. They walked…. And walked…. And walked…. They walked until Velvet felt like she couldn’t anymore. The pain was to much. Nausea began to over take her. She peaked inside a room, “Let’s just call it a night here. We’ve gone far down enough.”

“Okay.”

They secured the door behind them, and as soon as they sat down, exhaustion took over. Veneer looked at his sister as she was sitting a ways off.

“Vels?” He patted the spot next to him.

“No. I want my space.” She told him…. Truth was, she didn’t want him to see the mess she was in. Hopefully the bleeding would stop soon enough; maybe some rest would make her feel better. Veneer just frowned as he looked at her..

“Good night.” He said, but she didn’t reply…

…. She waited until he was out cold before she tore another piece of her clothing to wrap the wound some more. Velvet tied the knot tighter, allowing for more pressure on the wound.

“Dammit.” She said to her self. How could this have happened? Her eyes darted around the room… no cabinets, nothing… no first aid, no cloth… empty. Velvet curled herself into a ball hugging her knees. She leaned her head against the metal beam near her….

In the morning, she had to find something that would help her, at least until they could run into someone willing to help them. For now, she would rest. Velvet didn’t realize how tired she was until she finally let her body relax…within seconds, she shut her eyes… and was out cold.

Veneer woke up with a yawn and stretch. He rubbed his eyes. Being so deep under ground he couldn’t tell whether it was still day or night… he would have to check somehow. Veneer looked to where his sister slept; she had fallen asleep leaning on the beam. He crawled over to her to silently wake her.

“Vels.” He called to her….. she didn’t move.

“Velvet, wake up.” He whispered again….nothing.

“Wakey, wakey. Come on.” He reached over to touch her…that’s when he felt the coldness in her body.

“Vels?” Frantically he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, her head dropped motionless to the side, her lips were pale.

“VELVET!” He began to cry. How? Why? He looked at where her hand lay, clutching her side. “Oh no, no, no!” He removed her hand to see the wound that had bled out. How long had she been like this? Why didn’t she tell him anything? “Velvet please!” He begged.

He gently positioned his sister on his lap. Moving his head to her chest he stood quiet…..

THUMP….THUMP….

Her heart…. It was barely there, but he could feel her pulse…. She was alive….barely.

“It’s okay Vels. I got you. I got you.” He hugged her as tears streamed down his face… was this how he was going to loose her? How long did she have? Veneer held her tight as he thought what he could do to save her…. He had an idea… he knew someone that would help them… someone who would save her….but he knew she would hate him for it… he knew she’d rather have died… but Veneer didn’t want his sister dead, he needed her, she was his pillar…and right now… he had to be hers…

… He had to get word out to their father somehow.

[samdeancass]

Love at First Sight

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Scott, Stiles, Y/N

Description: Y/N and Scott are cousins and haven't seen each other for 5 years when you left Beacon Hills. When she arrives back, Scott throws a party for her and introduces her to Stiles, who seems very happy to meet her.

You smiled widely as you pulled up outside Scott's house, excitement building up inside. Scott is your favourite cousin and the one that you're most close to, so you couldn't wait to knock on his front door and surprise him. Being so close to Scott you knew all about the supernatural world and the fact that he was an alpha werewolf, so you knew that there would be no surprises coming your way, or so you thought.

You walked up the path to his house and knocked on the door, leaning on your heels as you waited. Your smile grew and grew as you heard Scott's voice and the jangle of the keys in the lock. He stood there in both shock and happiness when he swung the door open and seen you standing there.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?" Scott opened his arms and engulfed you to his chest, nearly squeezing the life out of you. "Scott...can't...breathe." "Ooo sorry, I tend to forget my strength sometimes." You chuckled and took a look at Scott, closing the door behind you.

He really had changed since the last time you seen him. There was a lot more muscle on his body and he seemed to have grown quite a few inches. "I see the werewolf life is treating you well then." You gestured up and down whilst Scott chuckled, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I guess I've changed a lot since you last seen me. How long's it been?" "Five years." Scott's mouth hung open. "No, it can't have been that long. Seriously." You nodded your head and smiled. "Yep, seriously."

You both walked towards the sofa and sat down. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" "Well, my dad has changed jobs again so we needed to move house. It turns out, he's going to be working just outside Beacon Hills! You'll be seeing a whole lot more of me because this time, we're staying!"

A beaming smile spread across Scott's features. "I've just had the perfect idea. Seems you're now back permanently, you're going to need some familiar faces so I'm going to throw you a party. A welcome back party."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm not too sure, Scott. What if they don't like me?" He put his hand on your shoulder and gave you a comforting smile. "Trust me, they are going to love you."

____________

Scott had given you the low down of all the people who are going to be at the party.

"So, Lydia is a banshee. What exactly is that again?" You smoothed down your dress and put on the finished touches to your make-up. "Lydia can sense when someone has died or is near death. Her scream is also very powerful and can throw people back a good few feet."

You nodded your head. "Derek, Liam and Malia are all werewolves?" He nodded. "Malia is a were-coyote. Her mom is a coyote, her dad is a werewolf. Liam is my beta, I turned him accidentally when I was trying to save him. Derek is a strong werewolf, one of the most powerful I've seen."

"Kira is a kitsune? A fire fox?" You put some hairspray in your hair and turned round to Scott. "And she is also my girlfriend." You widened your eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. "Scott McCall, why on earth did you not tell me you have a girlfriend?" His cheeks grew red with embarrassment. "I...I" You laughed and ruffled his hair. "I'm only kidding. But please tell me you know at least one human that isn't me?"

At that, Scott's smile grew wide and cunning. "My best friend, Stiles. He's the smartest person I know but he's also very sarcastic." "It sounds like I'm really going to like him." A soft smile grew on your face before you turned back towards the mirror for one last check.

"C'mon, Y/N. We can't have you being late to your own party." Scott grabbed your hand and led you out the door and down the stairs to meet everyone.

____________

Everyone you had met were extremely nice to you and welcomed you into the pack. Lydia, Kira and Malia were all very happy that they were no longer outnumbered by the boys. Derek was very welcoming to you which Scott said was a complete surprise because he usually just growls at people and walks away.

"And this is Stiles. Stiles, meet Y/N. Y/N meet Stiles." Stiles turned around to greet you when your eyes met. You were completely mesmerised by his chocolate brown eyes and the cute little freckles scattered across his face. Stiles' mouth hang agape as his eyes gazed over your features. Seeing the reaction you both had to each other, Scott smiled to himself and slowly walked away to watch his plan hatch.

"H-hi, I-i'm Stiles." He kept his gaze on you which made you blush. "I'm Y/N, Scott's cousin." You both stood there for a while just staring at each other. "I'm sorry, I don't know how someone as beautiful as you can be related to Scott. I mean, he's a dog."

"Hey! Just because I'm not standing next to you doesn't mean I can't hear what you're saying!" You laughed at the joke, nervously tucking your hair behind your ears. "You are right, though. He is a dog." "Thanks a lot, Stilinski."

"Anytime, pal." He winked at Scott before turning his attention back to you. "So, Scott's told me a little about you and I have to say, I'm very intrigued." You both began to walk together towards the back yard to try and grab some privacy.

"You're intrigued by me? A human? You literally live in a town full of supernatural creatures and you're interested in my life?" You both sat down facing each other on a bench, your arms leaning on the table. "Well, I don't have a normal human life. I'm always dragged into Scott's werewolf drama. I wanna know how the other half live."

You told Stiles all about your life and the different things you had accomplished. Throughout the conversation, Stiles didn't once take his eyes off you; always keeping his attention on you.

You both sat in a comfortable silence just staring at each other until you both slowly leaned over the table and kissed. It was new and exciting and sweet. Excitement and electricity run through your nerves as you kept the connection, Stiles' hand resting against your cheek.

Your hand rested on top of his as you leaned into his warmth, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. Stiles smiled at you, completely content, until the moment was ruined by wolf whistles and squeals coming from the back door of the house, or more rightly Scott.

"My plan worked! I knew you two would hit it off." Scott smiled confidently at the both of you. You both shook your heads at him. "Can we not have, like, five minutes privacy please?" Lydia pulled Scott back into the house and closed the door but not before giving him a thump for good measure.

"So, where were we?" Stiles leaned over the table again and pressed his lips to yours, this time more passionately. "I think we were getting up to the part where we make out, a lot." Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and pulled you over the table and into his lap causing you to laugh and slap his chest.

From that moment, you guys were inseparable and it was all thanks to Scott who you both knew would never let you forget it.

Teen Wolf Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @hellomyweirdos @redcoatgirl

[bellysoupset]

Okay, so, two things:

One, does Leo ever get jealous or upset when he sees kids with loving and caring parents?

Two, maybe a fic where Leo hasn’t been feeling well all day and on his way home he sees a super sweet family with a dad and a cute giggly son, and for some reason his feverish brain combined with the sweetness sends him into a depression episode. And then he goes home and takes Benadryl for his fever and his anti depressants as well, and basically over-sedates himself, and Jon gets home later to find Leo almost completely out of it and he freaks out.

I know you’re doing the mini saga rn, but I was thinking maybe you could do this after?

Sorry if this request is too long!!!😭😭!!😭

I'm sorry it took forever to write this!! This poor fic has been in my drafts for too long, I'm so sorry!

----------------

Leo knew he was not supposed to covet things that weren't his. That had been a maxim of his father and during most days Leo still agreed to it, all trauma aside.

Except during the holidays. He wasn't sure what was it about the end of the year that brought up the ugliest parts of him. Maybe it was all the fake glee or the longer nights and shorter days or the fact he wasn't practicing nearly as much sports or the fact that consumerism was off the charts and even though he could afford things now, he didn't think he'd ever get rid of that feeling in the pit of his stomach when standing in a cashier line. Maybe it was all that put together.

Or maybe it was the drilling about Holiday Spirit. In his house that had meant discounted alcoholic eggnog and much screaming, his father calling him a "little elf", school being out for recess so him being stuck in a house with no heat and an incredibly pissed off man, who was drunk off his ass.

For everyone else, though, holiday spirit meant being more kind or loving or charitable. Right. Leo rolled his eyes as he watched his coworker boast about the charity he was helping at the end of the year.

There was also the fact that the "philanthropy works" that his colleagues liked to gloated about were more often than not directed at people who were just Leo, except seven years ago.

He pressed on his keyboard with a little more force, rubbing at his temples. He had a headache from all the smells permeating the office — Sandras' peppermint candle, Chuck's cinnamon rolls he had brought for everyone else, Dean's fucking overpowering cologne his girlfriend had gifted him — and the loud noise wasn't making his life any better.

Leo sighed, squinting at his screen. Normally he could do his job in his sleep. Research had always been his forte, even back in high school, and he knew he aced it, because his boss always planted him as the paralegal for the big clients, where the lawyer would need a lot of research help in a short period of time.

Today he was struggling to put two and two together, let alone figure out if there were any similar cases that could serve as their defense. His stomach grumbled and Leo decided he needed a break from Sandra and Dean's incessant bickering, getting up and going to the coffee machine.

"Hey Wagner," Chuck opened a little smile, "what's with the sour face?"

"Headache," Leo answered truthfully, grabbing the biggest paper cup and starting the coffee machine. Damn, he really needed one of these back at home, "it's fine, there's just forty minutes more."

"That sucks man, feel better," Chuck said, but didn't move, "do you have any plans for the holiday break?"

"That's only next month," Leo wrinkled his nose in distaste. Could people stop pre-gaming for December in the middle of fucking November? Halloween had just happened-

"Well, there's thanksgiving," Chuck shrugged, "in less than two weeks."

"Oh," Leo sighed, having completely forgotten thanksgiving. He didn't think he had ever celebrated that.

"Are you going back home?"

Ha!

Leo nearly snorted in his coffee cup, instead changing it halfway so it looked like he was just blowing off the steam, "no, there's n- No. It's just me and Jon, so I'll probably do whatever his plans are."

Which Leo didn't think he had any... Jonah's plans lately were solely eat, sleep, study, hand in his final works for graduation, work. Rinse repeat.

"Hope you guys have fun," Chuck smiled brightly, before side stepping him and walking back to his desk, "get a turkey or something."

"Or something," Leo grumbled, squeezing his eyes and shuddering violently. He was also freezing. He blamed that on Sandra, who just had to wear the fancy coat she got in the designer sale at Nordstrom, so the a/c was at stupidly low levels, for sure.

Even though he had said it was just forty minutes more, they dragged. By the time Leo managed to get out of the office, his headache had escalated significantly and his stomach was hurting, since all he had eaten all day was a pastry at lunch and copious amounts of coffee. He was freezing to the point of his teeth chattering and he it was only when he stepped out of the elevator, buttoning up his coat, that he realized most people didn't seem to be feeling that chilly.

Sandra poked his side, "Wagner, you mind?"

He had stopped right at the ID scan, so he quickly apologized, jumping to the side as she scanned her card and then looked over her shoulder at him, "are you alright?"

"What?" Leo squinted at her, the lights reflecting off her blonde hair.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sandra repeated, "you're quieter than usual, that's all."

"Yeah, uhm..." He shrugged, running his own ID over the scan and joining her as they walked to the parking lot, "I'm fine, I'm just freez-" he shut up, stunned into silence when his co-worker lightly touched his forehead, getting on her tiptoes to reach him.

"You're running a fever there, Wagner," she rolled her eyes, clicking her car keys, "are you alright to drive?"

"Yeah, of course!" His voice came out squeaky at the sudden display of care and Sandra shrugged, smiling at him.

"Alright, take care," she waved, moving away to her designated spot and Leo was left a little stunned into silence, before collecting himself and getting in his own car. He really needed to stop being stubborn and let Bella fix his radio like she had offered, because there was just a terrible silence the entire drive home.

Leo stopped at a red light, just a street away from home and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Now that Sandra had pointed it out, he couldn't deny the fever. Everything hurt, the sound of the wind howling outside hurt, his head was pounding, the kid's squealing as they walked ahead of their parents on the street...

He watched as a little boy ran back to his father, in a ridiculously large coat. The kid barely reached his dad's hip, he couldn't be over four years old. He was blabbing, cheeks all red and Leo watched the dad let out a chuckle and grab the lapels of his son's coat, covering his face in kisses.

Someone honked behind him and Leo jumped, startled. He had missed the green light.

The remaining 5 minutes to his house, were dark five minutes. Not only because the clouds clumped together to start spilling snow, but because his thoughts started to run down a dangerous road.

This was what he hated the most about the holidays. How his dark thoughts creeped up on him with such ease, how much emphasis was there on family and love and how it highlighted that he was painfully alone in this world. There was no place to go for thanksgiving and there was no father to smooch his face and comfort him and none of the garbage that every single TV ad was showing now.

He avoided the first floor, not in the mood to force a smile for Matthew, and once he got home, Leo went straight to the bedroom, stripping out of his tux jacket and kicking off the shoes.

JD meowed, pushing the door ajar as she entered the room, climbing the bed and forcing herself on his lap even when he paid her no mind. He was too busy trying to undo his tie with one hand, the other one running through the mess of meds they kept in the bedside table drawer.

Vaguely Leo was aware that Jonah kept more meds in the first aid kit, but he couldn't remember where it was and his head was throbbing too much and he felt like fucking crying, so he decided not to go looking. They were out of paracetamol, but still had benadryl and Leo swallowed the little pink pill dry, before opening the drawer right under that one, where he kept his own stuff.

He always took his meds in the morning and then two before bed, but even thought it was only six PM, Leo decided to just taken them already. He wanted to sleep for fifty years, maybe sleep and just... Just stop existing all together.

Leo rubbed his face at the thought, letting out a groan, and his cat let out a meow, forcing her head in the space between his arms.

"Hey," he sighed, scratching her behind the ears, "hey, sweetheart, it's okay. I'm fine. I'm not doing that..." he reassured JD, pulling on the blankets so he could crawl under them. Jonah had left the heater on, but the apartment was still freezing.

JD meowed, chewing on his now undone tie and Leo wrapped an arm around her, thinking that maybe he should get out of the office clothes.... Then fell asleep.

---------------

Jonah wasn't a festivities type of man. He had never been, not even back when he was a teenager and he definitely wasn't the type now, when he was so stressed about graduation.

Yet, he knew Leo was acting pouty for the past ten days and his bet was that it was related to the holiday season. It was very unlike Leo to not openly complain about what was upsetting him, unless it was something close to his heart, when he closed off like a clam.

So if Leo wanted Holidays, Jonah was going to give him Holidays. Hopefully with a better outcome than Halloween, Jon cringed at the thought.

"What is this?" Jon asked, as Wendy reached inside her car and pushed a big tupperware in his hand.

"Torrone," she said, fishing one of the little white squares, "it's an Italian candy, traditional around Christmas. Vin's mom sells them, but she made a huge first batch and sent him. Here's some for you and Leo."

"But Ma made them for Vince..."

"Vince has half my fridge filled with these," Wendy rolled her eyes, getting in the driver's seat of her car, "just remember to get a picture of Leo eating it so we can send it to ma."

"Alright Dee, bye," Jon sniffed one the little white bars, before turning around to get in his own car. That had been the start of his Christmas mini spree and the reason why he was going up to their apartment now carrying not just the tupperware, but a bunch of little boxes of fairy lights, a wreath and a bag of groceries to make a black forest cake.

Jon wasn't daft, he knew Leo was being terribly considerate with the fact he had all but put their whole relationship in the backburner so he could focus in the school work. He needed to woo the guy a little bit.

"Leo?" Jonah pushed the door open, before crouching down to grab all the items again, "Leo, I got a bunch of shit I think you'll like..." he thought nothing of it when there wasn't an answer, instead starting to put things away. He found a good jar for Ma's little torrones and checked on JD's food bowl, frowning as he realized Leo hadn't fed her yet.

"Leo, did you feed JD? Her bowl is empty..." he said, but still got no answer. Jonah didn't wait for one, shaking the little empty dish until he heard their cat trotting back to the kitchen, then filling it up. She snaked between his legs, purring as Jon scratched her behind the ear and watched her eat for a little bit.

Only then did he frown at Leo's full absence, walking back to their room. Jonah wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't his boyfriend buried under all their blankets, heavily asleep. He checked his watch. Eight o'clock.

"That's early," Jonah whispered, moving closer to get a good look at his face, "Leo?"

There was no answer, not a snore, nothing. Leo's blonde hair was peaking out and so was the top half of his face, but that was it.

Jon sighed, a little bummed he was already asleep, but deciding against waking him, tiptoeing back out of the room. JD was still in the kitchen, happily munching on her treat and Jonah crouched down next to her again, "why did Leo go to bed so early, do you know?" he asked, causing the cat to stop eating for a second, before she went back in.

He put away all the groceries, then went through the fridge. They meal prepped and Jonah frowned as he realized there were exactly as many frozen dishes as there had been when he left the house earlier that day.

Happy that he had found an excuse to wake Leo up, Jonah got two containers out and put them to defrost, while walking back to the room. Leo hadn't moved a muscle and he didn't stir even when Jon sat on his side of the bed, brushing his bangs.

"Leo..." he whispered, shaking him lightly, "baby wak-" Jonah interrupted himself, noticing Leo was still wearing his office clothes. That was very unusual... So was the low heat rolling off of him.

"Goddammit Leo," Jon sighed, touching his face and feeling the low grade fever. He shook him a little harder, "Leo, wake up. You gotta eat something..."

Still nothing. By now, normally, the blonde would be blinking awake.

Jonah frowned, pushing the blankets down and shaking him a little more, "Leo, wake up..." his voice raised at the end as alarm bells started to go through his mind, so he all but rattled the other man, finally causing Leo to open his eyes.

Jon was about to let out a relieved sigh, but he didn't have the chance, as Leo slurred something unintelligible and then passed right back asleep.

Jonah rattled him again, harshly, and this time he got no reaction, not even a whine.

"Leo!" he called, leaning in so he could feel his boyfriend's breathing, planting two fingers to his jugular in search of a pulse. His own heart was drumming in his ears, so it took Jonah a second before he could differentiate what was his, what was Leo's.

The blonde's heartbeat were slow...Too slow. His breathing was weirdly timed.

Jonah felt vaguely dizzy as he looked around the room, in search of his coat. He had left his cellphone inside the pocket... He almost got sick as he saw the three different medications sitting on Leo's bedside table.

His usual Zoloft and Ambien and... Benadryl?

Jon frowned at the label, before shaking the antidepressant case and ambien. Both were still full, Leo hadn't taken more than he should... Or at least, it didn't look like he had, not on purpose.

"Baby," Jonah patted his cheeks, with more force than he'd normally use, "baby, open your eyes for me. Wake up-" he bit the inside of his cheek, before deciding that fuck that and splashing a little bit of water on his boyfriend's face.

Leo blinked, confused and drowsy, "why am I wet..." he groaned, attempting to go back to sleep, but Jonah stopped him, patting his cheek again.

"Leo, hey, look at me- How many pills did you take?"

"Uhm?" he yawned, his eyes starting to roll back again.

"LEO!" Jonah shook him vehemently, forcing the blonde to wake up, "how. many. pills?"

Leo groaned, rubbing his eyes, "Jon...?"

"Yes, baby, it's me," Jonah shook him again, holding the pill bottles in front of his face, "how many pills?"

"One," Leo slumped back against the pillow, "just one."

"Each?"

The blonde nodded, yawning again, "I don't feel so good..."

"I know, baby," Jon grabbed his shoulders again, forcing him to sit up once more, "c'mon, we're going to the ER."

"What...?" Leo groaned, slumping forward so his forehead met Jon's shoulder, "no, I'm not sick, I'm just... I'm just off..."

"Yeah, because you took two sedatives and your antidepressants," Jonah scoffed, looking one of Leo's arms around his neck, "c'mon, baby, get up."

"Jon, no, stop-" Leo weakly tried to shove off his chest, but his legs were almost jelly under him and the only thing keeping him up was Jonah holding him tightly, "I wanna sleep..."

"Nope," Jon dragged him out of the room, "no sleep for you until a psychiatrist checks you out."

"No!" Leo shoved at his arm and then stumbled back, falling sit on the edge of the bed. Jonah glared at him, feeling his own temper flare up, fueled by the sheer stress.

The stress of the situation, the panic of finding Leo like that, but also the overall stress that had been Halloween, followed by Leo's appendicitis, followed his quickly approaching deadlines...

"You're getting in the car even if I have to fucking carry you, Leo," Jonah glared at him, "get up."

If he expected to get a rise out of the blonde, he didn't. Instead Leo planted a hand on his chest and fell back on the bed, facing the ceiling as he groaned, "Jon, I feel really weird..."

"Yes, get up-"

"No, there's... There's someone standing in our hallway," Leo said and Jonah glanced at the open door and saw nothing, not even JD.

"There isn't, baby, its in your head..." he grabbed his boyfriend's arm, pulling him up again, "c'mon-"

"No, they're gonna get me."

"Ah fuck's sake," Jonah sighed, although while this was scary, he much rather have Leo fighting him and responsive than dead to the world, "no one is going to get you, Leo..."

All he got as an answer was a whimper.

"Fuck," Jon whispered, leaving the room in two steps to grab the coat he had hung behind the door and his phone, already dialing 911.

They asked him how many pills Leo had taken and upon Jonah's answer, a lady said "It doesn't sound like a suicide attempt, we're going to transfer you to poison control. Please stay on the line and stay calm."

A suicide attempt. Jonah's mouth dried as he sat right next to Leo on the bed, wrapping a hand around his wrist and feeling his pulse, barely listening as the poison control responder said that at this dosage going to the ER wasn't necessary. To keep checking on him and get loads of liquids on Leo, take him to emergency if he started throwing up or struggling to breathe.

Jon's ears were still ringing as he crouched down next to Leo again, now holding a glass of cold water, with a straw sticking out.

"C'mon, baby, just one sip, it's gonna help..."

Leo groaned again, but after a little more prodding, he did open his mouth and took the drink. Apparently he had been thirsty, because he drained the entire cup without much of Jonah's prodding.

He pulled back, looking slightly more awake, "Jon..." Leo clumsily grabbed his face, "something's wrong."

"I know, Leo," Jonah pulled back from the clumsy face squeeze, planting a kiss on the blonde's brow, "you'll feel better in the morning... Well, probably hungover as fuck, but you'll feel better in the morning..." his voice caught at the end and Leo pulled back, frowning.

"Are you sad...?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm fine," Jonah cleared his throat, "why did you take the benadryl?"

"What?" Leo blinked, struggling to keep his eyes open, "get into bed..."

"The third medication, Leo," Jonah raised the little box in front of his eyes, "why did you take it?"

"My head hurt..." Leo yawned, "had a fever... Couldn't find the right-" he yawned again, tugging on Jon's shirt to pull him closer, "the right one."

Jonah let out a little sigh of relief, allowing himself to get pulled into a clumsy, weird hug, the best that Leo's half sedated brain could do.

"I love you," he whispered, voice muffled by Leo's shirt and the blonde let out a hum, sounding like he was falling right back asleep. Still, Jonah did hear a faint, "love you too" said in return.

[kasagia]

Our little game pt. 2

~Part 1~ ~Part 3~ ~Part 4~ ~Part 5~

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader Summary: After the engagement party, you, Katherine, Freya, and Rebekah start to organize a grand fairytale wedding for family members only. Which means you'll be staying at Mikaelson's house a little longer than you initially assumed. But everyone is delighted with your presence. Especially little Hope and her dad, who loves to watch you play with his little princess. Kol is teasing him that he's using the baby charm to get to your cold, iced heart because he isn't hot enough. Kol nearly gets stabbed. But Elijah comes and rescues his youngest brother. After all, someone has to perform the marriage ceremony. You also meet "The Hybrid's Therapist" and makes a huge, life-changing discovery. Word count: 6,3k+

Y/N POV

Three days. That's how long it took the original family to get me acquainted with everything that happened in those missing years. They found a new member of the family, killed their parents (and crazy aunt) again, and ruled New Orleans just like "in the old, good times." That was too much information to get in that short time. Especially since I was drunk for half of it. Bekah and Kit-kat made the decision to get to know me and Freya by attending parties every night. It was fun at first. But when the hangover came to me the morning after, it wasn't funny anymore. At least I made a new friend.

"Earth to Y/N!" someone screamed at me and pushed, making me fall from the kitchen chair. I groaned in pain, rubbing my sore butt.

"Kol Mikaelson. Do you wish to die on this awful morning?"

"It's 11am." he replied, annoyed. The 10th-century maniac always started his day with the crowing of the hens. I was unworthy (or too lazy) to participate in this mystery of the rising sun.

"I told you. Morning."

"I'm sorry, but I, unlike others, have a real problem on my hands, and I don't have time to deal with your bitter, hangover attitude."

"I apologize for your grace. What is so important that you have to hurt people this morning? You broke one of Klaus' paintings or finally stole his precious daggers?"

"That's better." I gave him a stern look. "Relax, darling. I was joking."

"Not appreciated."

"God. I don't know why my brother likes you."

"Hey! Elijah is my friend; of course he likes me." I replied offended.

"Not these ones. And not in a platonic way." my amused, kind smile faded at his suggestion.

"You know what? I'm too hungry to… what did you say? Deal with your attitude?" I said with a mean smirk on my way out of the kitchen.

"No! Wait a second!" he used his vampire speed to stand before me. "I'll make you breakfast. Just help me."

"What will you cook?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Scrambled eggs?"

"I want waffles."

"Waffles?"

"Uhm. With cherry jam, whipped cream, and strawberries."

"You're going to be fat."

"And very happy. You don't want me to be happy?" I gave him my best puppy eyes.

"Alright, alright. Three waffles then." he agreed, heading to the cooker.

"Six." I corrected him, sitting down at the kitchen island across from him to watch him cook my food.

"Seriously?" he gave me an incredulous look.

"I told you. I'm hungry."

"My God, watch over your future husband."

"And his bank account." Kol burst out laughing as he started cooking my breakfast. "So? What can I help you?"

"It worked. I have a real date with Davina."

"Congratulations." I nodded as I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

"Thank you. But now, as she said yes, I have to make this day unforgetable and amazing."

"I'm starting to worry about you. Are you feeling fine? How many fingers do you see?" I asked, showing him two fingers in front of his face. He snorted, pushing my hand away.

"This is very funny, but I need your help."

"Why me? I mean, you have two older sisters and two older brothers who have probably been in many more relationships than me. They know how to flirt better than me." I inquired, feeling uncomfortable about assisting a 1,000-year-old vampire in picking up a girl when the number of my ex-boyfriends was limited to only one.

"Oh, you'd be surprised…" he says, looking at me with a little smile. "Maybe they have some... romantic experience, but they are over a thousand years old. And Davina is from these times, like you. You know what I'm trying to say?"

"Usually? No. But let's say this time I understand that you called your sibling pensioners. So, tell me something about your girl. I need to know her likes."

~•♤♤♤•~

*After some time*

"I think that's all." he handed me my food, looking at me expectantly.

"Well... I think you shouldn't take her on your first date to any fancy restaurant, cinema, or theater."

"Then what?"

"You're a good cook. Make her something and go boating on the river at night. You know stars and constellations, tell her about them after dinner. But don't make yourself a genius, women usually don't like this."

"Do you think that's enough?"

"You can scatter rose petals on the deck and decorate it with lights. But definitely don't take the poor girl to Paris, or you'll overwhelm her. Save something special for significant dates, like big anniversaries or something."

"You sure?"

"Trust me, women like it when a man makes an effort. She'll be delighted if you do everything yourself. A pampered vampire prince flying around town to fulfill her every little whim and do something special for her? She will love it."

"Vampire prince?"

"Please... like your family doesn't act like royalty."

"Does that mean I'm the king, love?" Klaus came to the kitchen with a little girl in his arms. God. This man looked too hot while he was holding a child.

"Absolutely not. But this sweetheart in your arms is a true princess. Yes, Hope?" I asked, giggling, when she started laughing after I tickled her. I was so fascinated by the sweet child that I didn't notice the look a holding her hybrid was giving me.

"If I remember correctly, this is not your babysitting week. Have you been stealing her from Hayley for three days because you missed her, or do you have another reason, brother?" Kol asked, snapping me out of my trance. This child could easily charm people around her.

"Did you steal her?" I asked indignantly.

"I am her father, love." he replied, looking at me offended.

"What's your point?"

"I can't steal my own child."

"Well, since you don't get along too well with her mother, I believe you can. Did he steal you, angel?" I asked her as she started to grab my hair in her little hand, forcing Klaus to lower himself to my level so the little princess wouldn't fall out of his arms.

"No, I don't. Hayley knows where she is. You two don't have to worry." I gave him a chair so he could sit next to me and not have to do gymnastics with the little troublemaker he held.

He sat her on his lap so she had better access to my bracelets, which turned out to be her next interest. I giggled as I watched her mumble over the pendant of a silver witch flying on a broomstick towards a diamond moon. A birthday present from her father. Talking about the hybrid, he also probably appreciated the selection of my jewelry.

"May you be more like your mother, sweetheart. It would have saved her a lot of nerves." I said to her, taking the pendant away just as it was about to go to her mouth. She screamed something in her language and grabbed my finger instead, trying to drop it with her gums.

"She must have been teething." I thought, not even noticing the gentle, lovely gaze the hybrid was giving me while holding the baby.

"She has the look of the devil in her eyes. That's all me, love." I shifted my gaze to the girl's father.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I think we already talked about nights and beds. Did you reconsider my invitation?" he asked, smiling and leaning closer to me.

"Don't talk to me like that with a little baby in your arms. It may be traumatizing for her. Just like for me." I replied, pretending to tremble with disgust.

Kol's snort reminded both of us of his presence.

"I told you, Nik. The baby trick doesn't work on her when your baby is cuter than you. You have to find another way into her cold heart."

"Don't you have a girl to chase?" I asked, shooting him a stern look. Did each of them have to be joking about our improbable romance?

"Actually, I do Y/N." Kol came over to us, kissed Hope on the cheek, and did the same to me. Klaus's quiet growl didn't go unnoticed. "Bye darling!"

"Stop calling me like that, you're a taken man!" I shouted after him. "Idiot. What?" I asked the hybrid, who was staring at me with a strange, unfamiliar look in his eyes.

"H e did you breakfast?" he asked with a cold, impassive tone, trying to cover his emotion.

"Yeah. He wanted help, so I made him do something useful in return."

"Oh, I see. Were that cheek kiss and "taken man" talk also part of your generous help." his resentment became more audible in his voice with each passing second. He was angry. But why the fuck?

"What's wrong with you? Kol and I are friends if you expect me to act like we don't..."

"Are you two just friends?" he immediately cut me off, not caring to hear what I was about to say.

"No. We're secretly married, and I'm expecting his child. I'm madly in love with him." I said sarcastically as I was about to leave the kitchen. I didn't like the direction this conversation was going.

"Y/N." Mikaelson's firm tone of voice and the use of my name instead of his usual "love" told me he wasn't joking or playing a game after all.

I turned and took a step closer to him, so our chests met. Hope's legs were hitting me a little as she waved them around, muttering something under her breath. His eyes were all on mine. Unwanted shivers ran through me.

"Kol fell for your town witch, Davina. I helped him plan a fantastic date. That's all. Don't misinterpret our actions. That's how we talk to each other. But even if we were something more, it wouldn't be your business. I'm not your toy that you can appropriate."

"I've never said you are. Don't misinterpret my actions."

"Are you using my own words against me?"

"I don't know, love. Did I?"

He gave me a challenging look, occasionally lowering his gaze to my lips. I stood there, never thinking about how close we were until his nose brushed mine. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of backing out. He'd never kiss me anyway, would he? We did a lot of stuff, true, but a real kiss was something neither of us could do as part of our "game." At least that's how I explained my suppressed desire to be close to him.

"NIKLAUS!" Elijah's yell immediately pulled us apart. I cleared my throat, reaching out to take the little one from him.

"I'll take her to the park. Maybe we even go to the playground, what do you think, Hope? Do you want to swing with auntie Y/N?"

"I'll try my best to come to you two as fast as I can." he said, and gave me his child.

He took a moment to look at both of us, and before he left, he kissed Hope on the head. Little bastard had to give me a "goodbye kiss" in the exact same place as Kol did. And just to be clear, I wasn't blushing.

Blood just suddenly ran into my face and made me red like a tomato. Just it. It had nothing to do with a kiss from the original.

~•♤♤♤•~

3rd PERSON POV

"I hope you had a good reason to call for me, because I was that close to finally making this little, stubborn witch kiss me."

Klaus ran into a library to meet his elder brother. It appeared that he wasn't alone. Kol was right behind Elijah, proudly smiling at him. That little bastard tricked him.

"What's going on here?"

"Kol told me about your..."

"Using our niece to flirt with Y/N. How do you plead from that?" Kol chimed in on his older brother's words.

"I'm not going to talk with you about my relationship with Y/N."

"Which, by the way, doesn't exist at all." the blond man moved towards his younger brother, but the oldest Mikaelson's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Behave yourselves. Both of you."

"I'm sorry, brother, but as you can see, he's the one who has consistently sabotaged my plans for Y/N. Make him behave himself." he pointed an accusing finger at Kol.

"I'm trying to save you from making the great mistake of your life. As much as I love Y/N, she doesn't fit our lifestyle. If you started to date her, you'd put her in the middle of our enemies, old, crazy witches who want to kill us, or even worse, your ex-girlfriends. You'll ruin her, and she deserves something more than our family drama."

"And you, Elijah? Do you share his opinion?"

"It doesn't matter. We just... want you to reconsider your plans before it's too late."

"Yeah. Let's take Hayley as an example. She didn't end up well after a night with you. Or... both of you." Kol stopped as he saw his brothers' angry look. "Alright, that was the wrong example, but you know what I mean. She's just a human with superpowers. She wouldn't put up with all the pain that comes with being a Mikaelson."

"Yes? Then what would you say about Davina? Is she strong enough? How is she different from Y/N?"

"She was born here. From the beginning, she grew up among witches. Y/N has known our world for only 4 years. That's a short time even for a mortal."

"When exactly did you become the voice of reason in our family? I thought it was Elijah's responsibility."

"Well, someone has to, as long as he's enchanted by Petrova's charm. By the way, you're no better than him."

The hybrid was about to throw a dagger at the brazen original, but his phone rang. He gave his brother his most terrifying look and went out of the room, taking the call.

"Oh my god, I miraculously escaped this. I'm never playing bad cop in your plan again, Petrova!"

"Do you think it will really work?" Elijah asked, completely ignoring his brother's nervous outburst.

"Of course, honey. We all know that he hated when someone tried to control him or give him an order. He'll run straight to her and admit his feelings right after he deals with the new vampire group. Let's hope Y/N finally tells him how she really feels about him." Katerina stepped out of the shadows, embracing her fiancé before kissing him on the cheek (to Kol's groan of disgust).

"How did you know where he went?"

"I could convince Rebekah to turn some vampires against Klaus and Marcel to keep them busy for the rest of the afternoon. Which will give me enough time to implement plan B."

"Which is?"

"What kind of matchmaker would I be if I told you before anything really happened? Trust me, they will be officially together on the day of our wedding at the latest." she said, then kissed the smiling original passionately, not caring that they had company in the room.

"Ugh! That's too much, even for me. Get a room or something before another innocent soul sees that. Before I go. Are we still on for tonight?"

"Yes. Me and Rebekah will help you with this date, but we are not cooking. Only decorate."

"Thanks. Play nice and use protection!" he shouted as he left, causing his brother to blush. Katerina laughed, kissing the vampire's rosy cheek.

"Wanna help me set up your stupid brother with Y/N?" she inquired, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

"Why exactly are you helping him? I thought you hated him?"

"Well, besides wanting to score points in your eyes and be able to point it out to him every chance I get, I think it would be nice to have Y/N with us permanently. She's a good friend."

"It's nice to see that you're starting to think not only about yourself but also about others around you." he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Well, if you come upstairs with me, I can show you how much I think about others… pleasure."

"Are we alone?"

"Mhmm..." the original picked her up in bridal style, causing the younger vampire to laugh as he carried her up the stairs.

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N POV

Damon called me for the fourth time that day. I have been successful at ignoring him and playing with Hope. At least until Katherine didn't join us and took my phone to hang him up.

"What does he want? I thought your group fell apart?" she asked, putting my phone back in my pocket.

"Well... let's say we are on a break." I said, trying to get my hair out of Hope's grip to set the girl on the swing.

"Do they know where you are?"

"No. Actually, I only wrote to Bonnie to say that I'm safe and she doesn't have to worry about me."

Now that I think about it, none of them took an interest in my fate. Only Bonnie. On the other hand, it didn't bother me at all. I already had people who cared about me.

Damon called again, causing Kat to grimace in annoyance.

"Please, can I pick up your phone and tell him to fu..."

"Katherine! There're children here!" I cut her off before the curse reached Hope's ears. Klaus would kill me if his daughter's first words were "fuck".

"Atherine!" I froze in place, stopping swinging the girl. Now, I think he'd rather hear that her first word was curse than Katherine.

"Ha ha. You should see your face!" the woman laughed as she continued swinging Hope.

"But... how... when... What?" I mumbled, still in shock.

"Please, I taught her my name a long time ago. That's how I won Kol's collection of wine." I felt a stone fall from my heart. I was safe. "But this is the first time she told it in front of someone other than me and Kol, so... I don't think that Klaus knew." a mischievous smirk grew on her face. Well, I guess I'll be dead after all.

"No. Absolutely not. It'll break his heart if he hears that's her first word." I stopped the swing and crouched down to be at Hope's height. "C'mon Hope. Say daddy."

"Y/N... continue like that, and Klaus would rather listen to you calling him daddy than his own child." Katherine began to tease, making my face flush uninvitedly. If I was screwed anyway, why did she have to kick me down?

"Stop it. It's a serious situation. I took her for a walk, what should I do when we return and she starts calling your name?!"

"Well, if you try to use this daddy line on him..."

"Katherine!" I stood up and yelled at the laughing vampire.

"Atherine!" she cried, waving her arms happily.

"No sweetheart. Dad. Daddy. Dada. Dad." I knelt in front of the baby once again, practically begging her to help me in my unfair battle with amused Katherine.

"That's not how you teach a child."

"And how should I know that? I'm 20 with no siblings. Hope is the first child I care for. Thinking about that, I'm surprised that Klaus even gave her to me."

"From the first seconds of her life, this little one has had a 24-hour survival school. One afternoon with an inexperienced aunt wouldn't kill her." She stopped seeing how upset I was. She took my arm and made me look into her eyes. "Hey. Do not panic. Nothing happened. I will teach her, and Klaus will never know. You don't have to worry."

"Are you sure?" I asked, looking at her unconvincingly.

"I did it once. I can do it again. In the meantime, you can go pick up alcohol for the wedding from the bar across the street."

"Did you order alcohol from the bar? Doesn't your fiancé happen to have an age-old collection of all sorts of liquors?"

"Yes, but it is not an inexhaustible well. Kol insisted that we have to start restocking our supplies this year, and for every bottle we take, he makes us add new ones. It's not my fault that moron likes a special recipe that they only make at this particular bar."

"The Mikaelsons and their picky palates." I mumbled under my breath, kissing Hope's head before leaving her alone with aunt Katherine.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I left the playground. If Klaus finds his daughter with Katherine, at least she'll be to blame for the little girl shouting her name in fascination.

Or he'll have a heart attack. Maybe it's better to warn him.

Hello half-wolfie. I just want to let you know that the little princess is with Her Majesty. Don't get mad when you see them two - I have to go and take care of the wedding (which you're not helping me with at all, Mr. Best Man). I'm getting alcohol and rings, so you're responsible for flowers and food. Good luck! :)

Mr. Big Ego: I hope you know what you're doing. Also, if flowers and food aren't a woman's thing to do?

I'll turn a blind eye to this horrible sexist discrimination just because you're probably miles away and my magic won't reach you. Back to the topic. You're an artist, and you have a pretty good sense of style, so I believe you'll do just fine. Besides, you're quite handsome. Use your charm on the women, and they'll do the job for you.

Mr. Big Ego: Thanks for the advice, I'm just trying to use it in case you hadn't noticed. ;)

My God, are you getting senile blindness? I wrote that you're "quite handsome," not "incredible hot." You've got to find a desperate woman, so go and do your job, because I'm not going to do shitwork for you, LOVE. :-*

Mr. Big Ego: I'd rather read how you call me that under other circumstances... :-/

Take what they give you.

Mr. Big Ego: We both know I can get a lot more out of you. Like those tempting, little moans a couple days ago...

Don't you happen to have something urgent to do, your grace?

Mr. Big Ego: Nothing is more important than you (and Hope). Until we meet again, my love. <3

"Boyfriend?" woman's voice brought me back to earth. I looked around, realizing I was under the bar and blocking the entrance. I was annoyed that I couldn't stop smiling since I began writing to the hybrid.

"He wishes." I replied as I put my phone away and entered the bar.

I headed straight for the bar, hoping to settle this as soon as possible and get back to my girls. I loved Katherine, but the desire to spite Klaus might outweigh her good-natured offer. I wanted to make sure she didn't teach Hope anything terrible (like "Kol," for example).

Fortunately, the bar wasn't that crowded, so I was able to get to the barmaid without any problems.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. My friend ordered some of your drinks for her wedding. I promised her I would get them. It should be booked for Petrova or Mikaelson."

"Oh yes. I know. I am Cami. It's nice to finally meet you. After all the stories I've heard about you, I feel like we've known each other for a long time."

"Klaus' psychotherapist? I thought it was at least a full-time job." the blonde giggled.

"Let's say he's making progress."

"Which doesn't explain how you know me. Is Klaus talking about me all the time, again and again? I must be the real bane of his existence."

"Actually, he's very fond of you."

"Fond of me? In what universe?"

"Wanna have a drink?"

My first thought was to say no, but the barmaid poured me a drink before I could decline her offer.

Maybe one drink won't hurt me.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Have you never been in love?" Cami asked after serving me another tequila.

In those few hours (and probably 2 bottles used to make me a drink) the blonde went back to the topic of Klaus's untrue feelings for me. Forcing me, in a way, to talk about my love conquests. I was sure that they were not as diverse and interesting as hybrids.

"I was. Long time ago. We did all these stupid, cheesy things together. Stargazing in the forest on top of his car, swimming in the lake at night, dancing in the rain. He was my date at prom. We even won the king and queen contest. But the point is that my personal experience tells me that loving him wasn't worth it at all."

"And why is that?"

"Because my boyfriend—the man I'd been dating since we were ten years old—broke up with me via fucking SMS on my 18th birthday."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. And please don't give me any therapist speech about that: "He was the problem, not me." I got over him a long time ago." I said, taking a sip of my drink to avoid her sympathetic gaze.

"Then why don't you want to give a chance to someone new?" I mean, it's been proven that a new relationship and crush can aid in the healing of broken hearts."

"Well, I'm assuming you can't heal something that doesn't exist anymore. Also I don't need any new love in my life; I have my friends, and they are giving me enough of it."

"For now, but what will happen if one day you would like to have your own family? A person who'll choose you above everything else in their life?"

"Please, don't even tell me that Klaus fits into this "ideal" husband-to-be for me." the woman sighed, rubbing her forehead. I smiled victoriously, knowing that I had won over Klaus' therapist and that Katherine's little ruse had failed.

"To be honest, I shouldn't do that, but desperate times and all of that." the blonde took out a small dictaphone from her pocket and played a recording after a few clicks. "A week before Elijah and Katherine's engagement party."

"All right. Let's talk about something else. How do you feel about your brother getting married to Katherine?"

"Stupid question. Of course I'm happy for him. Even if his partner leaves much to be desired."

"Well, I've heard something different."

"And what exactly?"

"That you're grumpier than usual and growl at every poor soul around you. There are also many stories in the city about you. You've gone mad because you're secretly in love with Katherine, and that's why you don't want them to get married. But my personal favorite is that you tried to steal the ring from Elijah and sell it on Amazon."

"I admit I was more… moody in the passing days, but all is well now. I'm really happy for them. Very."

"Are you sure your mood swings have nothing to do with Y/N?"

"Veto."

"Come on. We need to finally talk about her. It's the perfect time."

"You're not going to let this topic go, are you?"

"Not as long as she is an important person in your life. Rebekah told me she had an impact on you. You tried to be a better man for her! I thought only Hope had that power over you."

"Do not say that. She'd be overjoyed to learn she has any power over me."

"Would it be wrong if she listened to how important she is to you?"

"Y/N and I are… complicated. We actually never say nice things to each other. I don't even know why Rebekah told you about her."

"Your sister said you loved her. You still do. Even after a year without receiving a single call, text, or email from her. I also saw her portraits in your art room. And pencil sketches. Maybe even some sculptures…"

"I see what you're saying, but it's not my fault she's… unimaginably, incredibly beautiful. I'm just admiring her charm. As an artist, it's my duty to try to capture the depths of her eyes. Or her sweet smile when she is laughing at stupid little things she admires. That's true. I have many pictures of her, because despite my tireless efforts, I have not succeeded in presenting her beauty in a proper way. There are no paints that match the color of her eyes and hair, not even talking about her probably soft, delicate skin. No canvas big enough for her portrait will ever make me forget her or stop imagining her every time I close my eyes. She is always in my darkest nightmares or in my sweetest dreams. Every single day, she steals my thoughts, so that sometimes I find myself thinking that she is here, chasing me around my own city to make me want her more than I already do. I'm disgusted at how easily I succumbed to the magic of her charm. And the worst part is that she didn't even have to use her power to make me enchanted with herself. It looks like she has to mess with me even when she isn't around."

"I think it's enough." she said, pausing. I stared at the recorder for a good few minutes, analyzing what I had just heard. "I'll leave you with that for a while and see if Steve has already sent you crates of alcohol. Take your time."

I took a sip of my tequila. It's impossible for him to have feelings for me, right? He has a child, a city to rule, and I… I'm only 20. I don't have so much on my mind, and I wouldn't find myself in a life like his. It's something else to spend here a month than… half of my life. And even if I wanted to be with him (assuming we really love each other), I would have to become a vampire.

As if my life wasn't already complicated enough without knowing the hybrid's supposed feelings for me.

At least it can't get any worse.

"Y/N? Is that you?" Fuck. I take that back.

"Tom." I said after I turned to the place where his voice had come from. My worst fears came true.

"It's you."

"Yeah. It's me." I replied, not sharing his delight and amazement. Meeting my ex was the last thing I wanted to do after hearing Camille's recording. As if I didn't have a mess in my head anyway.

"It's good to see you."

"You don't have to lie." I replied, turning back to the bar. Not trusting his words even a little bit.

"I'm not. To be honest I… I missed you."

"What?" I asked, eyeing him properly for almost two years.

He has changed. His dark hair, which was always combed and slicked back, was tousled in all directions, adding charm and feistiness to him. He had a slight stubble on his face, and judging by the obvious fatigue on his face, life had not been kind to him either.

"Can we go somewhere private and... you know, talk?" he asked tentatively, trying to grab my hand, but I pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry, but you're like, two bloody years late. We have nothing to talk about." I got up, intending to leave the bar as soon as it was possible, so I could free myself from him. What happened in the past should remain in the past. There was no point in re-entering the same river.

"Y/N! Wait a second, please! I know I screwed up then, but please, let me at least tell you why I had to do what I've done."

"The thing is... I don't care about it, Thomas. You abandoned me in the darkest, most difficult period of my life, when I desperately needed someone to care for me, without so much as a blink of your eye. You didn't have to explain this then, so I don't want to listen to it right now."

"I did it for your safety!"

"My safety?! Please spare me that pathetic excuse. You had two years to come up with something really good, and you went with: "I did it for your safety."

"Two years ago I turned to vampire, Y/N. Ripper to be precise."

"What? But who turned you? Damon?" I asked in shock, not believing that my sweet, darling Thomas could ever turn into one of them.

"I had an accident that was quite dangerous. I was on the edge of life, so they gave me vampire blood in the hospital to help me heal, but… it didn't go right. I woke up hours ago with that uncontrollable hunger. I could only think about human blood. I was too scared to get close to you or anyone else. Damon helped me get out of town, he sent me here so I could learn how to control myself."

"He didn't tell me anything. Not even a little word. And he had known all along when he saw me crying on his brother's shoulder." if I was angry at Damon before, I am mad as hell at him now. This son of a bitch didn't deserve any help from me.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I tought it'd be easier for you to forget about me if I... broke your heart."

"Do not flatter yourself. It takes so much more to break it. You weren't even close enough."

"I should know. You've always been the strongest person I've ever met."

"Don't act like you still care about me." I growled, moving backward with each step he took towards me, until I hit the wall behind me.

"Y/N. I have no idea what you've been through these two years, but all I know is that when I was gone, all I could find myself thinking about—all I could remind myself of my old life—was you and our time together. I've never stopped loving you, Y/N. I don't think I could ever do. But I had to leave. Otherwise, I could hurt you. Only here could I learn to control myself and my primal hunger for blood. The mere fact that somehow, from all places in the world, you found yourself here proves that we are meant for each other."

"Stop it. You can't just show up after a year and tell me all of this as if nothing happened. You left me. You break up with me by fucking SMS. Did you even know how it hurt me? You, of all people, promised me that we... we would last forever. And I believed you. I don't think I could ever trust you again."

"I know, honey. I know I fucked up, but all I can do right now is prove to you that I would never, ever leave you and hurt you like this again. Just give us one more chance."

"And what if I have someone? What if I've already found the one man who would never even consider hurting me? Who would rather tear the world apart than see me in pain?" I asked, staring hard into his eyes.

"Do you truly have that someone, honey?" he replied, rubbing a tear from my cheek with his thumb that had unknowingly flown from my eye.

"I... I..." I really would. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him what I really want.

Before I could answer him, the dark-haired man came closer to me and connected our lips in a tender, longing kiss. I shivered as, for no reason, I felt watched.

What was truly terrifying to me was that I didn't feel anything but guilty. But I shouldn't be... right? I was a free, single woman.

Then why did I feel like I was doing something wrong? Why didn't I have any butterflies around my first love? Why all I could think about was how much better Klaus' lips would be on mine?

"Please, don't give up on us." he said, resting his brow on mine.

"Tommy I... I..." Why didn't I feel anything?

"Y/N? Are you okay?" I was almost glad to hear Camille's confused, worried voice. She must have noticed my red eyes from crying and possibly my makeup smudged by tears.

"Yes. Thomas was leaving, right?"

"Here. If you changed your mind." he slipped a piece of paper into my hand and kissed my forehead before obediently leaving the bar.

"Who was that guy? Does he hurt you? Should I call…"

"No! There's no need. Tom would never hurt me. Not deliberately." I cut her off before she could say HIS name. I didn't need another dose of confusion in my head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I will come home. I think that's enough excitement for one day."

"Okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Just to check if everything is fine."

"There's no need." I responded, unaccustomed to the other's concern about me.

"You know I'm a good friend too. Not just a pseudo-therapist for a bloodthirsty millennial vampire." I smiled involuntarily, feeling some of my overwhelming emotion disappear after her little joke.

"I'll remember that for next time."

"Bye Y/N! It was nice to finally meet you." I waved to her as I crossed the exit from the bar.

As I turned to head towards the mansion, I noticed someone hiding in the darkness and staring at the bar's window. Someone who was as broken as I never imagined he could be. 

Shit. He saw us. But why did I care?

And then, when our eyes met, I knew that my decision about me and Thomas would be much harder than I had previously thought. And it was at this point in our game that Klaus and I had to finally define who we had to be to each other. It would be the hardest choice of my life.

A terrible (but true) thought crossed my mind.

I'm a freaking Elena Gilbert.

~•♤♤♤•~

Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you for every heart and follow; I really appreciate it. <3 For anyone who is interested, this "story" will have like 5 or 6 parts in total.

[starkidlabs]

For anyone on the Gravity Falls website type in ‘PlatinumPaz’ into the computer for the story of how Bill nearly convinced Pacifica to make a deal with him.

Story below 👇

Pacifica stormed into her palatial bedroom and slammed the door so hard her chandeliers shook. (There were at least 3 chandeliers in Pacifica’s room, including a teensy chandelier over her nightlight.) She buried her head in a velvet pillow and screamed for an inhumanly long time, then flopped over and stewed at the painted cherubs on her ceiling. It wasn’t FAIR. After everything she did for her parents- get up at 5 for fencing lessons, beauty pageants, fox-hunting, butler-hunting, cleaning up the black feathers after dads weird “grown up masquerade parties”- THIS is how they repay her? HER! PACIFICA ELISE NORTHWEST?!

It had been a rough summer for Pacifica- first she came alarmingly close to losing a Party Crown, then her golf skills were called into question, and now her parents grounded her for literally saving the entire family from a Category 10 ghost and shut off the spigot on her caviar tap for rest of the year. What was she supposed to eat now? Dog Food? She angrily opened her mini-fridge and pulled out an UpperCrustablesTM brand snack pack and angrily spread the caviar on the tiny baguette. “Ugh, why does it come with this dumb little stick? The caviar always gets stuck in the CORNERS!”

She looked at a napkin where Dipper had written the shack’s phone number in case killing the ghost might have created a “double ghost.” Ha! As if she would put HIS number in HER phone.

Everything in her life used to make so much more sense before those PINES twins came along and screwed everything up. That stupid Mabel and her baffling, undeserved confidence. That know-it-all sweat stain Dipper who’s giant head was always butting against hers. Something about Dipper’s words had knocked over a domino in her mind that started a chain reaction that was causing her whole identity to come crashing down. He told her she had potential to change into…a better person? How do you become a better person when you’re already the best person?

It didn’t make sense!

Thinking about it exhausted her, and soon, her eyelids began to droop.

Soon she was...

she was...

Zzzz...

In Pacifica’s dream, she was freshening up at a party washing her hands when she noticed something...

red

swirling in the drain.

In horror, she discovered her hands were covered in blood, and no matter how hard she scrubbed them, they wouldn’t come clean. On the mirror, words slowly started two write themselves on their own, as if by an invisible hand…

BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS

“NO, NO, IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

An overpowering sense of guilt swelled inside as she fled to the ballroom for help, where she spotted her friends gossiping by a tapestry. She tried to flip them around, but when she grabbed their shoulders, they fell over, flat, They were... cardboard? She turned to her parents, and they fell over flat too. The entire party was filled with flat, 2D people, everyone was fake. Blood began to fill the ballroom, pouring from the clock, from the paintings, from the ceiling. Why was this happening?! She raced through her manor in a blind panic, when she discovered she was no longer in the mansion, but outside in Gravity Falls. When she looked down, she realized she was now 100 feet tall, and every step she made was wrecking the town. She knocked over the mudflap factory, polluting the river. She knocked over the orphanage, sending coughing soot-covered children out into the cold.

She kept apologizing, but she was too big, too public, every step hurting more and more people. Everyone could see that the town’s problems were her fault. She was a monster. She always had been. She always would be.

Pacifica started sobbing and suddenly, she was a little girl again, hiding behind the vine-covered tombstones in the graveyard behind the Manor after another one of her parents fights. The graves of her ancestors loomed above her like gargoyles, great Northwests in history. What would they say if they could see her like this?

One of the statues slowly turned to face Pacifica. It was Nathaniel Northwest.

“Get a hold of yourself. You’re a Northwest, people can’t know you leak shame-water.”

“You’re right,” Pacifica apologized, and hastily took out her compact to clean her smeared makeup. She cursed as she saw how dishevelled she was.

The statue watched her like a cat hungrily watching a mouse.

“You have a lot of anger, don’t you.”

“Anyone whose not angry is an idiot. There’s so much to be mad about.”

“Yes. Anger is good. Anger is useful. Who are you angry at, Pacifica?”

“Everything was better before the PINES came to town...”

“You know, I might be able to help with that... there’s something I want. The Mystery Shack is going to be getting some new merchandise very soon. A small snow globe, nothing anyone would miss. If you could shoplift it for me, I could guarantee things would change. You’d never deal with the Pines again...”

Pacifica closed her compact. Would that fix everything?

“It would be so easy... all you have to do to get your old life back is shake...my...hand”

The statue extended its stony hand. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Slowly she reached out to shake- then abruptly stopped. Something was off.

“My old life... wasn’t really mine, was it? All I ever did was follow my mom and dad. Maybe... it would be better to...make a new one.”

The STATUE BELLOWED with RAGE.

“MAKE? HA! YOU INHERIT. YOUR FAMILY LEGACY IS ALL YOU’RE WORTH. YOU MAKE NOTHING.

YOU CAN’T EVEN MAKE FRIENDS.”

This had always been true... in the past.

His hand extended toward her. Looming. Trembling.

She remembered a time when a hand extended toward her, offering a free snack in the back seat of a car.

“MAKE THE DEAL YOU LITTLE FAKE BLONDE IMPENDING PATERNITY TEST”

Pacifica’s face relaxed.

She knew it was cliché, but she knew she had to do it.

She slowly extended her hand.

Just as the giant lichen-covered hand was about to close around hers like a cage of stone fingers, she swung her arm up and behind her head.

“Sike.”

“WHAT?!”

“Too slow!”

“YOU WORM!!!! YOU WORTHLESS WASTE OF STOLEN INCOME!!!! YOU’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING. I SEE A FUTURE WHERE YOU’RE PENNILESS, WORKING AT THE DINER, YOU’LL HAVE NOTHING, YOU-”

The statue shook with rage, sending cracks from its hand all the way up to its shrieking head.

It crumbled apart in front of her, screaming in pain.

GONG!

Pacifica awoke with a start, panting. The clock in the hallway had struck 3 AM. She was covered in sweat. What had she been dreaming about? She couldn’t remember.

She didn’t want to remember.

She wasn’t quite sure why, but she removed a tapestry that she’d always had on her wall. Something her family had no doubt looted ages ago- of a glowing triangle over the mountains. She rolled it up and put it in the closet and locked the padlock. Maybe she should hold onto Dipper’s number just in case. She entered it into her phone and felt an odd sense of calm suddenly wash over her.

It was quiet once again in Northwest Manor.

Pacifica slept better than she had in years.

The end of the story has a hidden message. “STAY AWAY FROM HER CIPHER. SHE HAS THE PROTECTION OF THE LUMBERFOLKS SPIRITS.’

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

haha so prison of plastic, right?

I made an au for it. Its a swap au, but I swap both people and epithets! In this au, Molly has the Epithet Augment. She uses the Dream Bubbles/Illusions to make her own little worlds in an attempt to cope, when something doesn't go her way, she throws a fit about it, as any spoiled child would. Using her tears in order to get what she wants, it often works because her Mom doesn't want to hear her scream. Here's a small, improved excerpt from the au:

The archer positioned her bow, ready to fire the arrow into the large Hydra's echoing heart, her attack echoed throughout the land.

"PIERCIIIIIING URRRRSAAAA!"

...ly..

"NOOO!" The hydra's three heads wailed

"That is the attack of the ancient one!" Said one

"It will surely kill us!" Said another

...olly!...

The archer smirked like how they did in those cool cartoons. "THIS! IS FOR ALL THE VILLAGES YOU'VE FLOODED! AND FOR THE FAMILY YOU'VE TORN APART!!! THE ONE WATTERLOGGED BECAUSE OF YOU!!!

"Molly!"

An echo punched through the funtime fantasy world

"Ughh! Not now not now! I was just about to beat him!!"

She whined, impaitently tapping on the ground quickly with the tips of her toes.

The fantasy rippled, swirled and soon seperated, nothing but a fog now. Lorelai Blyndeff sticking her head through it all.

"Molly! You were on dish duty! You can't just bail like that!"

Molly turns her whole body to face her sister, who's head was poking through her Dream Bubble.

"LOOOOOORIIIIII!!! Go away! I was just about to slay the Honeyed Hydra!!!!"

She hissed, nearly screaming as she swatted her away like a disgusting bug on the windowsill. Causing her archery outfit, bow and magic attack to disappear into a fun dip like powder.

Molly Blyndeff, Lorelai's brat of a little sister. She's spent half their life after their Dad's death crying and whining to get whatever she wanted, and if she didn't get it, she'd make more of a fuss than she was brewing. Lorelai could see through her obvious manipulation of the people's heartstrings and has tried to call her out on in on SEVERAL occasions. But she can't win the fight against Molly's puppy eyes, she'd often grin at Lori before calling for their mother and claiming that she was being mean to her when she really was trying to shape her away from being a spoiled brat. Alas, their mother is too swayed by the puppy eyes and crying to take Lorelai's side.

"You've been playing for THREE HOURS, Molly. C'mon, Mom said its your turn!"

Molly grumbled, she can't use her tricks on Lorelai, since she can see right through her. Nor can she seek the help of her Mother, knowing that there's a chance he could take Lorelai's side. She crossed her long sleeves over each other,

"You're so mean to me, Lori! I can never have fun! All you do is ruin everything!"

Ah, the perfect tactic, guilt tripping. If she can't get any help, she'll pin the blame on the person 'ruining everything'.

"Nice try, Bear Cub, I'm not doing the dishes for you this time, I've got things to do too"

"UGHHHHHH!!!!" Molly grinned, falling to the floor dramatically the entire time she did.

Lorelai stared in disbelief at the little girl Molly was growing up to be, she stepped fully into the Dream Bubble, the scenery fogging away wherever she stepped. She lightly kicked Molly to get her to snap out of her rage fueled funk.

"Get up, no matter how much you pout, you still have dishes to do."

"NO!!!! No no no no no!"

Molly screamed back in rage, snapping her head up and kicking her legs. She stopped briefly only for the bear to be unleashed again,

"JUST GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!! YOURE RUINING MY LIFE!!!!"

Lori wasn't going to let some brat kid boss her around, she was going to say something, though she couldn't get it out before a screaming and crying Molly was pushing her out of her customized safe space. Then, out the door Lorelai was, hearing a click behind her. She knew what that meant, so she turned around and pounded on the door.

"HEY!!!"

BANG BANG BANG

"MOLLY!!!!"

...

Now for Lorelai! Now she has the Epithet "Dumb", like Molly in the actual show/book. You know what it is, now for another excerpt!

"Uhhhhhh... guys?" Lorelai called

"What? You find somethin?" Giovanni called back

"Yeeeeahhhh..."

Giovanni and Rick trotted over, with Giovanni shoving Rick out of the way in order to see what Lorelai had found.

Lori found a dead body.

Or, at least that's what it appeared to be, the most notable thing about the body, aside from it appearing dead was the jingling bells decorating her hair. Most of the jelly fish had wriggled their way into the bells on the bottom, the rest all laying beside her in the sand, ready to sting her at any second.

"Is she... truly dead?!?!?!" Rick shivered, not even able to comprehend the thought.

"Not sure" Lorelai replied back, looking at him, and then to the dead looking girl.

"AHHH!!!" He squeaked, unable to handle this situations severity. But to be fair, who would be? "No-one can know about this" Finishing his words with a disturbingly grim tone, he starts rushing toward the body in a cartoonish run. He bends over to pick it up before Giovanni stops him.

"Wait wait wait wait!"

"WHAT?!?"

Rick shouted back, still halfway bent down to drag the body back into the ocean.

"We should see if she has anything valuable! It's like a video game! Ya gotta loot every dead guy, gal, or nonbinary pal ya find!"

"HAH!" Rick barked, already sweating buckets, as he faces Giovanni "If you'd like to get arrested, perhaps!" He turns back to the body, going to grab for it "Your finger prints will get all over it that way!" in a twist of irony, he latches his arms onto the body.

Giovanni snrks, "Y'know you'll get your prints on it if you grab it too, yeah?'

Rick gasps, dropping the body's lifeless arm, looking at his hands as if he HIMSELF had committed the murder.

"You're right!"

Rick falls down onto the sand like an anime character, burrowing his fists harshly so that they make two fist sized craters in the sand. He begins to cry big dumb tears

"I'm going to the penthouse!" Rick wails, letting out a squeak at a pitch only dogs can hear. "Please, dear friends! Bail me out!"

"Psssh, Rick, you're such a weenie."

Giovanni grabs a stray stick from the beach and pokes the body with it as to not get his hand prints on the body like Rick did. She was surrounded by jelly fish as if it were rocks on around the pond.

"Huh! Well wouldja look at that!"

He chirped, eye brows a good distance away from his eyes.

"Looks like you win Lori!" He says, tossing the Apple Cider flavored lip balm over to Lorelai. Suddenly the body sprouted to laugh, coughing up a jelly fish that had crawled its way down her esophagous

"Haugh-ha-ga-ha- w- win!?"

Rick perked his head up and The trio instinctively screamed

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!"

The body screamed right back

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"ZOMBIE!!!!" Rick shrieked, backing away in fear, picking up the stick that Giovanni had tossed away once he saw the body sprout back like a plant someone thought was going to die.

"Zombie?!" The body replied, twirling her head around rapidly, jelly fish being flung from her hair at intense speeds. The trio quickly ducked to avoid the potential of being stung. "Where?!?!"

She quickly got up and started throwing her hand swiftly as if she were throwing several baseballs, Lorelai took notice of what came out of the small girls hand as she jingled through each attack. "Hm!" she remarked, staring at her hand. "Well, that's quite troubling! Perhaps this is a surface interference, from the surface world! That would make the most sense!"

Giovanni got up from his crouching position, getting hit in the face with a jelly fish. Thankfully, it was long dead and didn't sting him. He slid it off his face.

"Hey, wait a sec, this chick ain't a zombie! Way too much skin! Look, I get zombies CAN have skin and all but that's only if they're fresh, and I'm guessing that she's been there for a while. So my conclusion is THIS!!!"

Giovanni did an over the top point to accentuate his reveal.

"SHE IS CLEARLY.... A GHOST! A... magic- GHOST! YEAH! Or- or the reincarnation of a Sheep Jellyfish hybrid! A SHELLYFISH!!! HAHA!!!! I know your secret now LADY!"

The lady put a hand to her mouth, chuckling inaudibly into her hand. "You're quite a funny one, Mister bright hair!" She twirls around towards them, putting her hands together with a bright smile. "I am no Shellyfish zombie-ghost! I..... am a magical girl!" She did a Sailor Moon esc pose, the trio stared at her in disbelief.

No-one thought she was serious.

The girl panicked "Uh- uh- uh- HERE! Let me show you!" She twisted her whole body back and flung forward an invisible force like a boomerang. When she saw that nothing had happened, she tried again. Lorelai did notice a small string of black energy coming out in a faded boomerang position, before poofing away pathetically. She didn't say anything, knowing the kid probably just wanted to impress a bunch of people older than she was.

The newly revived little girl was around 12 years old, which, when around a group of 17 year old's was practically the same as being a baby. The "magical girl" was pale, with eyes bluer than the ocean itself. Her blonde hair decorated in little bells, accompanied by a tattered pink dress with now dirtied white fluff in other areas. She nervously chuckled

"Ahahaha! C'moooon magiiiiiic! Work! Work o pretty please work! A bunch of adults are watching!"

She mumbled to herself in desperation, but alas, her magic did not cooperate. She wailed in shock,

"WAHHHH-HAH-HAAA?!? What?!? But- It usually WORKS!!!! What is going ON today?! Are my friends not friending?! I NEED ANSWERS!!!"

The little girl stomped over in the most non threatening way possible.

"Excuse me, kind older folk! Would any of you care to be my friends?" She batted her eyes innocently. Giovanni immediately shut her down

"Nuh uh kid, no way"

"Awwww... why not?!"

"Because you're like, a baby, and we're like, way older than you? And it'd be really weird for a bunch of 17 year old's to hang around a kid???"

"Haha! Wow! Owie! Ow! Owchie!" The girl forced out a chuckle, putting her hands on her hips to distract herself from the fact she felt like crying big stupid tears. "I- I'll have you know I am VERY mature for someone who is 12 years of age!"

Rick stepped out from his friends, "Hold on, you, you said you're magic, correct?"

"Yes! Indeed! I am a Magical Girl, after all!"

"Perfect! How fortunate! HAHAH!" Rick echoed a belly laugh, grinning somewhat creepily at her, making her kind of regret ever meeting him. Lorelai tapped Rick on the shoulder.

"Rick, you're doing the thing again."

"Haha! Oops! Sorry!"

Rick now smiled in a more normal looking way, "My name is Rick Shades, the XV of the Shades clan! I assume you've heard of us?"

"Nope!" Exclaimed the magical girl with innocent pride, Giovanni snickered again which made Lori elbow him. Rick felt like he could turn to stone at any moment, but continued with his tale.

"The people in my family are MOST powerful witches and wizards! Every five years, the oldest heir is destined to do BATTLE with the UNHOOOOOOLY PUPPETEER!!! And if we do not... we must prepare for the ENDDDD!!! The adventurer must pick up a faithful knight!"

Rick gestures to Lorelai, "A skilled alchemist" he gestured to Giovanni. "As well as a Tanky sort of fellow, to take the hits for us, as well as a skilled, wise mentor!" Rick put his hands on his shoulders, bending down to the girl's height.

"Would you perhaps be interested?"

The girl pondered the thought, humming. Lorelai had quickly picked up on the 'Rick is being a weirdo' signs, dragging him and Giovanni away. She never blamed Rick for his lack of social skills, ability to pick up on social cues or discomforts with large crowds. She knew he never got out much when he was young, but sometimes she has to put her foot down when he's doing something the public could perceive as weird, such as trying to build a friendship with a 12 year old when you're way older.

"Oh... oh no... sorry to put a stop to this but- we gotta go! Oh- oh nooooo...We- we got a class! And... we REALLY don't wanna miss it... oh nooooo"

"W- wait! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT!!!!!!!" The little girl shrieked, quickly running up to them, skidding with a halt. "Shouldn't you keep me in your fun fun friendship magic circle? Y- you know?? In case you need me to- to mentor you?????"

"Hmmmm..." Rick thought about it, squinting through his dorky looking shades. "Well, that make sense!"

"RICK!" Lorelai protested, but it was too late.

"Very well! My name is Phoenica Fleecity! Shall we be..." She extended her hand. "Friends?"

"Indeed we shall!" Rick held her palm with the awareness of a dog about to eat a brownie, Lorelai and Giovanni had both tried to stop him, and ultimately failed. The sky tore asunder, several amounts of black shadow sheep extended in tidal waves, circling the two with loud jingles.

JINGLE

JINGLE

BAAAA

The sheep fell onto each other, the two sets forming into arrows, one piercing Rick's chest, and the other piercing Phoenica's.

"The pact... has been sealed! Hehehee..." Phoenica chuckled into her hand, face contorting into mischief, the mischief erupting into madness and lightning crowded around the group. "Heheheeh....hahaha...AHAHAHHAH!!!" The last laugh came out in a squeak, then her hands came behind her back, pushing herself to and fro in a sway, stopping with her toes off the ground, tilting her head with a smile. "Pleasure to meet you!"

Baaa

The world was as it had been previously, not a person in sight on the beach. It was only those four,

"Wait.... did that actually just happen?" Lorelai thought aloud to herself.

"Now now now!" Phoenica removed her hand from Rick's grasp, raising it daintily like a private school girl. "Would anyone else like to shake the hand of friendship?" She asked, waving her hand robotically.

Giovanni and Lori quickly stepped back, trying to maintain a safe distance from Rick in case Phoenica had cursed him.

"R...rick?" Lori uttered in discomforted fear. "You uh... you okay there, buddy?"

"I... feel... AMAZING!!!" Rick jumped up, running around, kicking and squealing like a kid who had just gotten the latest gaming console, stopping dead in his tracks beside Phoeinca.

"After all, I had gained a new friend! Phoenica Fleecity!"

Phoenica nodded to confirm that they were indeed friends "Indeed! We are the friendy-ist of friends! Bound by the soul! Soul-MATES, if you will!"

"HA!" Rick barked, throwing his head back with his hands on his waist, tilting his head back down. "Friendshaped AND hilarious! Its a two in one deal!"

Giovanni scrunched his face. "Kid, work on your phrasing"

Phoenica tilted her head sideways like a puppy who you had just told was bad, but didn't understand why. "Huh?" she gasped. "Ohhhh! No! no no no no! Nothing at ALL Like what you're thinking! He's like, fourty anyways!" She waved off whatever thoughts we were thinking, Rick felt as though he actually got stabbed with the shadow arrows this time, falling to his knees again, pressing his hands into the sand.

She clasps her hands, gleefully turning to Rick "Well then, I suppose since we *are* friends, I can tell you my secret!" She turned back to face the others "My Epithet is... Soulmates! Meaning, I keep all my mates, or, friends, as is most commonly said riiiiiiiiiight here!"

She points to the right side of her chest, the wrong one. Giovanni raised an eyebrow.

"Your chest?"

"Oh no no no!" Phoenica shook her head "My heart!"

"Your hearts on the other side"

"Oh!" Phoenica looked down, realizing her mistake before quickly fixing it. "They're kept right here!"

"So, what? Is Rick like...in a friendship cage or something?"

"Nnnnnnope! Just means that I can do, what HE can do! Observe!"

She skipped eagerly over to Rick, bending towards him. "Mister Rick Shades, what can you do?"

Rick pondered over it before Lorelai dragged him back towards herself and Giovanni quickly before he could stupidly get himself caught in a situation nobody wanted to deal with.

"Rick, don't. Y'know all those Ztreet Zmartz for Kidz videos they showed us? I think NOW is as good a time as any to start puttin' em to use"

"What is a Ztreet Zmartz?" Rick batted his eyes

Lori groaned, oh right, Rick was homeschooled half his life. "Basically safety PSAS warning us about strangers."

"Ohhh!" Rick's eyes widened at the realization, falling closed in laughter as he shook his head, opening them back up. "But Phoenica is no stranger! She is my new friend!"

"YES INDEED I AM A FRIEND!!!!" Phoenica screamed. "YOU CAN TRUST ME!!!! I AM INCREDIBLY TRUSTWORTHY!!!!!!!"

"Don't worry! I believe you!" Rick shouted back, worming his way out of Lorelai's hands, Lori couldn't help but face palm at his stupidity as he paced around, trying to discover what he was best at.

"I'm quite good at school work! The best, even! Dispite being homeschooled for so long! I'm great at it!"

Phoenica laughed along with Rick's claims, she had no idea what schoolwork was, but she didn't want her newest buddy chum chum pal friend buddy chum chum chum pal to think she was uncool. Rick shimmied his bookbag off of himself, grabbing out last nights homework, holding it up dramatically like Macbeth would a skull. "BEHOLD!!!! THE DREADED ALGEBRA II!!!" he bellowed, passing it to Phoenica. He had also handed her a pencil, "Here! You try!"

Phoenica nodded, scribbling a few nonsense numbers as if she were on auto pilot, giggling the whole time like a gremlin being fed after midnight. She soon finished, passing it back to Rick with a smile. "Done!"

Rick took the paper, and Phoenica began her monolouge.

"Now you see! That challenge for Hi....skewl...ers.... would've proven too much! But, with the power of Soulmates, friendship, and MAGIC! I got it done in a matter of seconds!" She clapped "Thank you Rick for bestowing your mathly knowledge onto me!"

Rick gasped dramatically, gripping the paper. "You- you used my knowledge to do this! Thats- thats CHEATING!" he stood up, pointing a finger. "You're a cheater cheater pumpkin eater! I cannot be friends with a girl who PUMPKIN EATS!"

Phoenica gasped, a tear starting to fall. The sky tore open again as the arrows reversed out of their hearts, reverting back into sheep that scuttled back into the sky. "NOOOOOOO!!!!" Phoenica wailed, burying her shameful cheating cheating pumpkin eating face into her hands. "MY KNOWLEDGE!!!! WAHHHHHH!!!"

A kitchen timer went off in Giovanni's head, causing him to laugh "Wait? Your- Your weakness is people- NOT being friends with you?! Hah... huh ha... huh HAHAHAHAHAHA!! OH MY GOD THATS RICH!!! HAHAHAH!!! WHAT A DORK!!! HAH!"

Lorelai harshly jabbed his arm with her elbow, making him yell out an "OWWWW!!". Lorelai couldn't help but roll her eyes, Phoenica whimpered as she stared at her now wet hands.

"Is this why all my previous friends had stopped friending?! Is it because I am a... pumpkin eater?! Why didnt anyone TELL me! I would've stopped eating pumpkins right away!! Now everyone's ignoring me!!!" She sobbed heavily, falling to her knees.

Rick couldn't help but feel bad, coming to her side and wrapping an arm around her, he was crying to.

"Oh, Phoenica! I am SO terribly sorry! It just..." He sniffled "I HATE cheaters, you know? They grind my gears so hard that I can't think! But... if you vow to never use your knowledge for cheating... I would be honored to call you friend!"

Phoenica gasped, wrapping both arms around Rick and squeezing him as tight as she could. "Rick!!!!! My dearest surface friend! I pinky winky promise to never EVER cheat again! If I break this promise then..." she whiped her eyes, looking into his with complete sincerity. "You have all the right to break my pinky!"

Rick looked touched, starting to regain his smile "Phoenica..." he fully accepted her hug. "That is all my heart ever wanted to hear!"

The sky ripped apart like paper, the sheeps returning, forming one big arrow that pierced through them both. Phoenica shot up, deciding that her crying time was over!

"Nooooow! Have you two changed your minds???? Would you still like to be friends?!?!?!? Please??? Pretty please???"

"Uhhh.. yeah no I'm good." Giovanni steps back

Lorelai also steps back, "Me too, sorry kid."

Phoenica looked absolutely heartbroken, before shaking her head. "Uhh... well... what about the winny thingy?

"Winny thingy?" Giovanni asked

"Win! Winner! Wining! Something something something you win! That's what you guys were saying when I woke up! What is the game? What is there to win? CAN I even win? Oh, I bet I could win anything and everything ever! Please please please let me win something! Then we can all be friends and skip along with the sheep in the clouds!" Phoenica begged desperately, clasping her hands together.

Lorelai raised a brow. "You sound kinda desperate."

"I AM!!! Thank you for noticing!"

"That... isn't a complement..."

"Oh! Then UN-Thank you for noticing!"

Gears shifted in Giovanni's head as she tried to figure out what this silly little bell ridden girl was talking about, then it hit him, like a homerun at a big league baseball game.

"Ohhhh! You mean the prizes!" Giovanni snapped a finger, grinning excitedly "We were taking a buncha these jelly fish an' throwin' em back in the sea! Whoever finds the most, throws em back in the ocean without gettin' stung wins! Oh! An' if you find a cool thing WITHOUT a metal detector, you get extra points! Whoever's got the most points gets a little treat!"

Not even a moment after the words escaped Giovanni's lips, Phoenica was running around the beach. She tossed jellyfish after jellyfish back into the sea, occasionally getting stung. She would sometimes find a trinket only SHE thought was cool and stuff it into the pockets of her worn out dress. She soon came back to the trio, huffing wildly like a runner who had just crossed the finish line last in a marathon.

"I've tossed 164 jelly fish back, got stung 35 times and found 52 cool trinkets!"

Phoenica took what was in her pockets out of them, what she collected was mostly shells, seaweed, and coins. She put them back in her pockets with puppy eyes.

"Does that mean I get a treat now? I'm afraid I haven't eaten in days!"

"DAYS?!?!?!" The trio shouted with concern, all starting to scrounge through their stuff, except for Rick who was running around and screaming in a panic.

To no avail, all Giovanni had was an old empty thermos of Soup. It was stained from the time he tried to mix a bunch of Soups together with smoothie logic. Spoiler, it didn't taste good and he threw up afterwards.

Lorelai took out the lip balm she had recieved, Phoenica's eyes locked on it.

"Whats that? Is that the treat? Can I have it? Can I? Can I?"

"Uhhhh...." Lorelai looked down at the lip balm, extending it out. "This is a lip balm..."

"Haha! Wowie! Never mind then! Don't want to explode! Haha! Ha! Ha!" Phoenica was sweating again.

Lorelai shook her head, "No no no no" she unscrewed the cap to show her, speaking slowly like you would an alien in a movie. "Baaaaalm.... Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalm, with an LLLLLLL. Its like, lip stuff you put on your lips"

"Wow! Smells yummy! Thank you!" Phoenica knelt down, chomping down on the balm. Regret set in for her immediately as she coughed, it shot down her throat in seconds. "MMMM!!!! BADDDDD!!!!" she cried.

"NO NO NO NO NO DO NOT SWALLOW THAT!!!" Giovanni butted in, grabbing Phoenica by the shoulders, tears streamed down her face quickly. "Too late!!!! ITS ALREADY IN MY TUMMY!!!!"

"NOOOOOO!!!!" Rick dramatically fainted like a goat, clutching the sand like a blanket. "My friend is going to die..."

"IM GOING TO DIE?!?!" Phoenica gasped.

"No! No! Nobody is going to DIE!" Lorelai tried to reassure, but it was hard with a child and someone who was nearly an adult crying in unison. Giovanni started to panic and rummage through Rick's backpack for literally ANYTHING to drink. All he found was an old potion he had given him.

"Is... is that a drink?" Phoenica asked meekly "I haven't drunken anything in days! Well... besides Salt Water! Oh goodness! I believe it *is* the end!"

"DO NOT SAY SUCH DRIVEL, PHOENICA!" Rick shouted.

"Rick, others, we are friends...correct?" Phoenica strained sadly, like a sick kid on a TV show.

"Uhhh... pretty sure?" Lorelai hesitated

"Please.... do not let me die."

Phoenica ragdolled onto the sand, panic began setting in for the trio as they scrambled like headless chickens trying not to squawk in fear.

...

Hope you enjoy!!! :D

[rainmustfallts4]

House of Lost Souls ◇ Prologue

⊶⊰Information⊱⊷ ⊶⊰From the Beginning⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Latest⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Index⊱⊷

----------------------⊶⊰*⊱⊷----------------------

Hello, dear reader, and welcome to the House of Lost Souls. Allow me to introduce the main character, Rae Reynolds. She is creative, gloomy, and socially awkward. These traits have worked against her for most of her life, making it difficult for her to attend school. She stuck it out as long as she could before finally dropping out, no longer able to handle being around so many other people.

She dreams of being a published author, so most of her time is spent writing. She has been working on her fantasy novel for nearly five years now and, though she does make progress, she often wonders if she will ever finish it.

Because of her social issues, she is unable to hold a job for very long. To counteract this, she does small writing gigs and enters various writing contests.

This is her father, Deven. He dreams of quitting his business job and becoming a mixologist, though he currently makes more money than he could chasing his dream. As the only person in the home that’s currently working, he has to prioritize money over dreams. He is a family man first and foremost.

Mind you, he has quite a large savings account, but he doesn’t want to touch that unless absolutely necessary.

This is his fiancé, Terri Ham. She is a nasty piece of work, caring only about money and possessions. Does she love Deven? Only she knows that, but let me tell you this, dear reader – she did not start talking to him because she saw him as an attractive man. How she found out about his savings account, we may never know because she has no intention of speaking on it.

They live in a modest home in Oasis Springs, where Rae has lived her entire life.

Terri is determined to get Deven to dip into his savings and spend that money on her. There’s just one problem that stands between her and her goal – Rae.

“Good morning, honey~” she chirped, her voice filled with fake sweetness.

“Morning, my love.”

As the pair sat down at the bar, Terri decided to enact her plan. She had waited long enough.

“Listen, hun, we need to talk about your kid.”

Deven frowned at this, brow furrowed in worry. “Why? Has something happened to her?”

“No no, she’s fine!” Terri waved off his worries, having to resist the urge to call her a brat. “Well, she’s far from fine. Dear, you know she’s ill, right? You have to do something about her.”

“She’s not ill.” His frown deepened. “She’s just… an introvert.”

“Hun, coddling her is not helping her.”

“And just what do you propose then?”

“Ashwood Asylum! My friend works there and she says many patients have been helped there.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not committing my child to an asylum.”

“You’re such a good man,” she purred, running her hand along his arm. “But she’s not getting any better on her own. She’s only getting worse. I really think -“

“The answer is no.” Deven shook his head. “Once she gets her book published, I’m sure she will open up more. She just needs time.” The mere thought of locking his daughter away turned his stomach.

Terri knew she had to step up her game if she wanted to get rid of Rae. She already had a bad relationship with Rae but, whenever Deven would leave for work, she would ramp up the intensity. Her go-to was mocking Rae or starting arguments with her.

Rae did her best to remain civil, knowing how much her father adored Terri. When she keeps poking at her, though, telling her how much of a failure she is and how much of a burden she is on her father, Rae just couldn't hold back anymore.

“You’re such a bitch!” snapped Rae, glaring at the older woman.

Terri had to hold back her smirk, pretending to be shocked. She had timed it perfectly and Deven had walked in just as Rae was screaming this.

“What is going on here?” he demanded, leaving Rae in shock.

She knew she had stepped right into Terri’s trap.

“Dad, I can explain -“

Terri quickly cut her off, fake tears in her eyes. “Oh, honey, I don’t know what I did wrong! I was just trying to let her know I’m here if she wants to talk and she just snapped at me!”

Deven couldn’t believe it. He knew his daughter could get snippy sometimes because of her problems, but he had never heard her sound so… hateful before. He didn’t understand.

“She’s lying, dad! She was attacking me first -“

“How could you say that to me?” cried Terri. “I just w-wanted to help!” And then she stood up, running from the room dramatically. It seems those drama lessons she took in school were paying off now.

“She’s lying out her ass,” muttered Rae, feeling annoyed by this whole situation. “She’s playing you, dad!”

“Listen to me, Rae.”

“Dad -“

“I said listen!”

Rae was surprised. He had never raised his voice to her before.

“I have given you years to turn your life around, but Terri is right, you’re only getting worse.”

“That’s not -“

“Enough! I’m not putting up with it anymore. You are a young adult now, it’s time for you to take responsibility for your own actions. You need help, Rae, help that I can’t provide you.”

“What are you saying…?”

“I’m sending you to Ashwood Asylum. Pack your bags.”

He stood up, stalking from the room before she could reply.

Ashwood Asylum? She had never heard of such a place! It certainly didn’t sound like a fun place to be, though. Instead of packing as he had commanded, she went straight to the computer to look up information on this place.

According to her research, Ashwood Asylum was founded nearly two hundred years ago, back when Newcrest was Ashcrest. After the disaster that left Ashcrest an ashen waste, the only building that still stood was the asylum. It was abandoned for nearly thirty years until the area was safe to return to.

Ashcrest was renamed to Newcrest in the hopes that people would return, but the disaster was fresh in everyone’s mind and no one wanted to risk it. Currently, Ashwood Asylum is the only building that exists within Newcrest.

‘It looks so rundown,’ she thought with a frown as she looked at the images. ‘More like a prison…’

And she wasn’t far off with her thoughts. A few days later, she and Deven arrived at the asylum. Just seeing the tall fences and the mossy stone building left her feeling a sense of dread she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Dad, please don’t leave me here…”

“Listen to me, Rae. You need help and I’m only hurting you by not getting you that help. I know this is scary, but it’ll be worth it, trust me.”

“How can I trust you when you’re being manipulated by a materialistic witch?”

“Damn it, Rae! I’m tired of being nice. I will not stand here and let you disrespect your mother!”

“She is not my mother and she never will be! Just you wait, she’s going to take you for every simoleon you have!”

The two glared at each other, tense and angry.

“Why hello there! Are you visiting or checking in?” Jasmin Riggs acted as the secretary of the Asylum, though that was not her only job. In truth, she was the director of the place, though it was easier when people thought she was simply the secretary with no real power.

“I’m checking in my daughter to get help. I can’t deal with her anymore.”

“Good!” snapped Rae. “Because I can’t deal with you, either! You’re choosing a woman who doesn’t even love you over your own daughter! Forget it, I’m not your daughter anymore. Just leave!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” He snapped, glaring at her before turning on his heel and leaving the asylum.

“Follow me.” Jasmin’s tone had turned much colder after Deven left and she didn’t try to hide her disgust as she unlocked the doors leading into the asylum.

Rae stepped through the door, turning around to ask the woman a question but she wasn’t given a chance to. The woman slammed the doors in her face and Rae could hear the keys jangling and the lock clicking. A slip of paper was shoved under the door before the woman walked away.

She was trapped here, alone and hurt.

With a frown, Rae picked up the slip of paper, finding a room number scrawled on it. Several people were moving about the asylum, talking to themselves or arguing with each other. The wallpaper was dirty and stained, the floor much the same. The air was thick with the smell of mold and dampness.

No one paid her any mind as she made her way toward the back of the asylum where the rooms sat. She checked the number plates on each door, finding hers tucked in the corner against the wall.

A set of white cotton clothing sat on her bed and she sighed deeply, slowly getting changed. She fell onto the uncomfortable bed, frowning at the floor.

How had her life come to this? She had no idea. Was she really ill? Could she really not be helped? It had been a long time since she last felt this hopeless, this lost.

These are her journals.

[fallenangelofsalt]

Purple Gold AU introduction

Polished the first post(that was actually an ask on @whirld-of-color 's blog) a bit. There's also some other posts linked at the bottom but you should read this one first because it has some context (and horror details) the other posts don't have.

Mostly just fixed up some wording but also changed some of the horror bits so it fits better with my HCs for the stickfigures. Plus some added horror stuff.

This AU is based on the idea of Gold becoming part of Minecraft's code and eventually becoming one with the game and the horror that comes from the consequences of that, of Gold losing his understanding of mortal minds and what makes them hurt, of Gold's code being so scattered, so small.

Personality is so easy, just code, spreads so well in empty space, but memories are hard, tough like glass, try spreading it and it breaks into tiny tiny shards, so hard to see in a cluttered room, filled to the ceiling with heavy information and hard data, crushing the few surviving ones into fine dust, almost invisible in the clutter, and no one even knows to look for it.

Gold forgot, you see. He forgot his dad. He forgot his life. He forgot pain. He forgot fear.

And now there is someone new. Different. Special.

Someone who notices the changes, the oddities. Someone notices him.

The overworld is always quiet. Silent, lonely. There is no one here with you when you spawn in for the first time, and it's been weeks but the feeling of being watched, followed, hunted never left. You think it just got stronger.

Apples feel oddly fleshy in your teeth. Bread is a bit salty, dripping juice down your chin that tastes like citrus. As you yank mushrooms from the ground for soup you nearly bite through your lip to keep from screaming when you feel them thrash against your grip. You eat them anyway. Food is food, and it's better than the pumpkins.

The caves feel moldy, warm and humid with wind that when you follow always leads into dead ends. You swear the redstone pulses beneath your fingers, expanding within your hand in a way that dust really shouldn't.

The nether sometimes feels off, ground a bit soft, walls a bit wet, the gold clings to your fingers when you mine it, sitcky in your hand but not on your pickaxe. If you look too long at the lava, you swear it rises and falls, slowly, the air hot and stale with the smell of iron. The quartz sometimes breaking open to drip cold black on your fingers. You don't spend a lot of time there.

And you've been careful, so so careful, but eventually you fall.

Creeper explosion, just close enough to make you stumble, trip, fall

Right off the edge of a ravine

You don't really wake up then, in that place between life and death so much as get slapped awake, but a mere slap is not enough to describe the agony, the shock, your being getting pulled apart, vivisected and studied by childishly careless claws, but claws imply something physical, and physical doesn't fit the creature- thing- entity that keeps you stuck there, in that space between, for what feels like hours, days, centuries, you feel it stitch you back together, glass dust caught inside your bones but your bloody stuffing doesn't peek out of the stitching and that is the only relief you get before it lets you go and you fall

You wake up. There is gold in your hair, a single strand beneath the purple, and the watching, following, hunting gaze feels so much closer now.

Nearby, far away, right behind them a child a monster a god the world itself (...) is happy.

...

Elsewhere, a King continues on the original path.

There will be a happy ending I swear but first they gotta suffer <3. The AU is named Purple Gold because that is an actual type of gold alloy and the thing about glass dust is very very important! :)

Gold's POV

Purple's arrival and brief respawn aftermath

Brief elaboration on the respawn scene

@styck-figure I think this version is a bit better :)