#and walk down the hall and maybe even outside to find a fucking trashcan. like WHAT THE HELL ?

[redjellocups]

why are there no fucking trashcans in classrooms on campus. i have to go outside and find one to throw something away. what the fuck

[xiaq]

Steddie Time Travel Fix-it: Pt 3

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Now that he’s started, Eddie can’t seem to stop watching Steve Harrington.

When he goes to school on Thursday, he’s tense all day waiting for…he doesn’t even know what. Something.

And things are definitely happening. The social order of the school has suddenly been upended in a way that is imminently noticeable. By lunch everyone knows that King Steve has quit the basketball team, had a shouting match with his former best friend Tommy Hagan in the locker room, broke up with his current girlfriend, and instead of lording over the high jock table in the cafeteria is now sitting with band-geek Robin Buckley, outcast Jonathan Beyers, and nerd girls Nancy Wheeler and Barbra Holland. None of the people at the table seem to find this unusual except Barb, who is looking at her table-mates in much the same way that everyone else in the cafeteria is: with a combination of confusion, intrigue, and curiosity.

It’s hard to focus on literally anything else, though Eddie does try to keep up with the flow of conversation where he’s sat between Jeff and Gareth.

That gets harder when Steve stands, walks to the trashcan a few feet from the Hellfire table, and dumps his tray.

He meets Eddies eyes, just as intense and fucking tormented as the day before, but he only nods, maybe a little delayed, and husks out a, “hey Eddie,” before turning purposefully and walking back to his table.

When he sits, Robin reaches over to squeeze his wrist and they have a whole conversation with their eyes before they both turn to look at Eddie again.

Robin smiles shakily, gives him an awkward little wave, and he, sort of automatically, waves back.

“Ok, what the fuck,” Jeff says.

“Believe me when I say I have no idea,” Eddie answers.

He keeps waiting for it, the rest of the day–though what it is, he doesn’t know.

He tracks Steve through the hallways between periods, and each time Steve catches his eye he nods, or says, “hey Eddie,” and then just…continues on his way. They share the last period of the day: PE. And for once, Eddie doesn’t skip. He watches as Steve steps onto the court with a weird, aggressive, awareness. He dominates dodgeball with a grim determination that feels wrong in a school gymnasium. He asks and gets permission from the PE coach to spend the last half of the period in the weight room.

Eddie slips out of the gym a few minutes later––the coach is so used to him ditching at this point he doesn’t even try to stop him. He collects his backpack and lunchbox from his locker and drags his fingers down the concrete wall on his way to the double entrance doors: freedom. 

Except.

He stops.

He makes a frustrated about-face.

He stalks back the way he came, past the gymnasium and around the corner. He stands in the hall outside the weight room and looks through the smudged window in the door.

Steve is alone, working out and looking pissed about it, sweat already dampening his Hawkins Varsity Basketball T-shirt. He racks a set of weights, grabs a second set, less heavy than the ones he just put away, and curses on his way back to the bench.

He doesn’t have a walkman or anything, he’s just––working out. And not like Eddie has seen the jocks working out before: flexing and posturing and peacocking in front of the mirrors. Steve is pushing himself through chest presses like it’s a punishment, or maybe a necessary evil. Like he’s preparing to go to war or something.

Eddie doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching, but it’s long enough that Steve gets through two more sets and then wraps his hands before going to town on the punching bag. Until there’s sweat dripping down his neck and his wet hair is in his eyes; until the soft, grunted, exhalations of his exertion start to sound like sobs.

Steve stops, suddenly, his breathing loud enough that Eddie can hear it, sharp and discordant, in the hallway. Steve clings to the bag like it’s a person, face pressed to the leather, shoulders shaking, and Eddie feels like the worst kind of voyeur.

He leaves.

He goes to the picnic table in the woods to do his after-school deals, walks home, and then sits on his bed and stares at the walkie for a long, long, time.

The rest of the week is the same: Eddie waiting for something that never happens.

By the end of the following week, Eddie would think he’d imagined it all––the bathroom, the late-night visit to the trailer, the request to be friends, except the radio Steve gave him is still sitting on the window sill in this bedroom. And Steve keeps saying hello to him in the hallways and at lunch. And he never loses the slightly desperate look in his eyes when he catches and holds Eddie’s gaze across the room: a look that makes Eddie feel like he’s lost something he can’t remember.

Until Tommy Hagan happens.

Tommy Hagan often happens to the freaks. The rich popular kid shoving around the weirdos is nothing new. It’d be unusual if it didn’t happen on occasion and there's been a weird downtick in bullying since Harrington ceded the throne. Not that Steve ever hurt any of them himself before, but in the past, half the time, it felt like his underlings crumpled someone's notes or shouted slurs across hallways as a way of gaining Steve’s attention. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Any attention is good attention, right?

Except now, Jason Carver and Tommy Hagan are clearly both trying to take the top spot in the social hierarchy that Steve has vacated, and they’re going about it with fear rather than respect. Groundbreaking.

 While Carver is a bit more discrete with his assholery––after all, he has to stay a golden boy in the teachers’ eyes––Hagan doesn’t have a discreet bone in his body. And he tends to fall back on predictable modes of intimidation.

Eddie’s just sat down at their lunch table, hasn’t even had a chance to take a bite of his sandwich, when Hagan smacks the back of Jeff’s head next to him and drops his hands to rest, too tight, on Jeff’s shoulders.

“I’m going to need you to leave my girlfriend the fuck alone,” he snarls into Jeff’s ear. “Saw you panting after her in the hall after third period. Didn’t like that.”

“We’re partners for the science lab,” Jeff mumbles. “I have to talk to her about our project.”

“Sure.” He lets go of Jeff’s shoulders, only to hit the back of his head with the heel of his hand again. “Guess I don’t need to worry anyway, judging by how you stare at us in the showers, huh?”

And Eddie is done.

He stands, shoving Hagan away from Jeff, both palms flat to his chest, legs braced. He grew a few inches the summer before and while Eddie is still thin as a fucking bean pole he’s taller than Hagan, now. Not by much, but he isn’t as easy a target anymore and, at his core, Hagan is a coward.

“Fuck off,” Eddie snarls.

But he’s not so cowardly today.

Eddie ducks the first punch and deflects the second. He’s never actually hit someone before and he’s deeply regretting turning down Wayne when he offered to teach him as the clamor of voices rises around them.

Eddie doesn’t even realize Steve is there until he’s standing between them, his hand wrapped around Hagan’s wrist, just below his fist.

Everything goes still and anticipatory. A hush falls.

“I need you to understand,” Steve says quietly, pulling Hagan even closer to him when Hagan tries to jerk away, “that I wasn’t joking when I said things are going to be different, now.”

“What the fuck, Steve,” Hagan whines.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve continues calmly, “but I will if you keep this shit up. You leave them alone.”

The cadence of his voice, the tone, is such a contrast to Hagan’s that it makes Hagan sound like a huffing child. Steve sounds like a teacher. Or a dad. Quiet. Assured. Firm. Unbearably hot.

No.

Eddie forces himself to refocus.

“Also,” Steve says, even quieter, leaning forward so they’re nearly nose to nose. “I wouldn't be throwing around accusations about watching people shower.” He squeezes Hagan’s wrist harder. “Considering.”

Hagan’s face goes pale. The kind of pale that means fear rather than anger.

Eddie knows the look on Hagan's face because Eddie has worn it before, and the second-hand terror, the empathetic rush of fight or flight, leaves him briefly frozen, winded.

“Do we understand each other?” Steve says, his voice still barely above a whisper. Eddie is pretty sure he’s the only one hearing this exchange and he wishes that wasn’t true because he desperately wants someone to confirm that he’s not hallucinating.

“You wouldn’t,” Hagan hisses. “You can’t.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Steve says. 

Eddie certainly feels the truth in that.

“Go sit down,” Steve instructs, just as even as mild as he started. “And maybe pass on the word to Jason. It’ll be easier if I didn't have to have this conversation again.”

Hagan wrenches his arm away from Steve with a muttered “fuck you,” but he turns tail and retreats, straight back into the hall with a slam of his palms to the crash bar on the door.

And then, in the silence that follows, Steve pushes back his disheveled hair, glancing around, and sits. At the Hellfire table. 

He nods for Eddie to sit back down across from him, in his customary seat, which Eddie does. Slowly.

The rest of the guys say nothing.

“Hey, so,” Steve says, apparently oblivious to the tumult he’s caused. He leans forward, weight on his elbows, looking earnest and so fucking swoon-worthy Eddie wants to punch a wall. “I need to get the details about the new campaign from you. When does it start and what time do we meet?”

“What the fuck,” Jeff says quietly

“You play D&D?” Gareth asks.

“You want to play D&D with us?” Jeff clarifies.

“Yeah,” Steve glances between them, then settles his attention, like a habit, back on Eddie. “Didn’t Eddie tell you?”

“I didn’t know if you were serious,” Eddie manages.

“I’m serious,” Steve says. 

The statement feels loaded.

“Right. Well. We meet in the theater room on Friday nights. Six to nine. The new campaign starts next week and I need your character details at least 48 hours beforehand.”

“I think my character is ready now, but if you wouldn’t mind looking over it with me, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure,” he says faintly.

“What are you doing after school today?”

“Nothing.”

“Band practice,” Gareth says, kicking him under the table. “Right after school. Like we do every Wednesday.”

“Right. Band practice.”

“I could pick you up after? We can grab dinner and talk about my character then?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. “We practice at Gareth’s house. On Mt. Olive. Should be done around five-thirty.”

Steve slaps the table and stands. “I’ll see you then.” He pauses. “Oh, I meant to ask. How did your audition thing at Hideout go last weekend?”

“We got the slot,” Eddie says, and then, with forced bravado. “So I guess you’ll have to come see us play some time.”

Steve grins. “That’s awesome. Congratulations, guys. I’ll definitely come this weekend. Might bring Rob and Nance, too, maybe Jonathan if he’s up for it.”

“Sure,” Eddie says again. 

Steve’s hand drops, just for a second, to Eddie’s shoulder. It squeezes.

And then he’s gone––back to his table.

“I have so many questions,” Gareth says.

“I promise you I have more,” Eddie mutters.

Pt. 4

[tojisveryown]

𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 | 𝟶𝟸

© 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚓𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚋𝚢𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛

𝙰𝚌: 𝚠𝚃𝟼𝙸𝙳𝟸𝚀𝟺𝙰𝙺𝚄𝟿𝚏𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚝

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟻𝚔

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝙰𝚄, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟸 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

(𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍)

⋆ 💌⋆ 

3 am, it was three o’clock in the morning and you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. Who the hell would be up at this hour, especially since there was a lecture everyone had to attend in four hours.

You took a glance at your screen, slowly adjusting to the brightness, you allow yourself to wake up, you check your messages, and realize Gojo has been texting you nonstop 

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this guy its three am..” you whisper to yourself trying not to wake up Utahime

“Who would ever wanna fuck you anyway?” 

Sheesh. 

Am I that un-fuckable? You walked over to the bathrooms and gave yourself a long and judgmental stare. “Shit, I am un-fuckable aren’t I?” 

Before you let your insecurities get the best of you, you decided that it’d be best to catch some sleep and worry about your appearance later. It’s not that your body was ugly, or that your face was ugly, it was definitely how you dressed. 

The way you dressed practically presented to everyone what type of vibes you give off, and as of right now you gave off pretty much “Hi, my name is L/N Y/N and I still shop at the kids' section from target.” and that is NOT the impression you wanted others to have when glancing towards you. 

You sighed, “That fucking man whore really did a number on my self-esteem.” You rolled over and checked the alarm clock placed on the nightstand that was sandwiched into yours and Utahime’s bed. 5:38 am 

“Maybe I should go shopping after the lecture.” you rolled off your bed and decided to get an early start. After finishing up you left the girls dormitory. 

6:45 am

Coffee? 

Coffee.

⋆ 💌⋆ 

You hurried to the coffee shop that was a floor below your first lecture, luckily there weren’t that many people waiting in line, after what felt like two minutes it was finally your turn to order.

“Hi welcome, what may I get you?” The barista said, 

“Hi good morning, may I get an iced caramel macchiato?” 

“Of course, that’ll be 5.47!″

You dug in your bag to find your wallet and before the lady could take your card a hand placed itself over your own “I got it, add a white mocha to it will ya’ make it for Y/N Gojo, thanks.” That voice belonged to none other than the pest you dealt with yesterday. “G’morin’ Y/N.” he smiled as he slung his arm around you leading you outside the small coffee shop. 

“Mmm, so about yesterday.. I’ll forgive you if you let me take you out on a date? How ‘bout it?” 

No. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

“Huh? I didn’t apologize.” You feel yourself leaning on the pillar that stood outside the coffee shop. 

Gojo scoffed, “That’s exactly why, you won’t have to if you let me take you on a date. Think about it Y/N.” he leaned closer resting his forearm on the same pillar you were leaning against right above your head. He was practically towering over you.

“And if i don’t want to apologize?” He scoffed once more and held your chin, forcing you to lookup. His touch was cold, almost concerning really.. it’s probably from some sort of std.

“Y/N Gojo your coffee is ready! Y/N Gojo!” 

Gojo stepped away to grab both cups of coffee, he handed you yours and walked alongside you. “You know Y/N, so many girls would kill to go on a date with me, you’re really missing out.” there he goes flashing that cheekily smile around again. 

“Guess I’m not like the fuckable bimbos you go after then.” 

“You know you could be if you wanted to,” he walked in front of you, turning on his heels so he was now facing you as he continued to walk backwards. “All you have to do is give me a call.” he pulled his sunglasses down and gave you a wink.

Cheeky bastard.

You shoved the iced coffee into the core of his stomach signaling that you wouldn’t be swooned so easily by his escapades, you held out your arm until he realized you were giving the coffee back. His fingertips grazed over your hand and you flinched at the subtle contact. Before Gojo had the chance to call you out you were submerged into the crowd.

“Y/N stop being so difficult.” 

⋆ 💌⋆ 

6:58 am, you made it on time for your first early morning lecture and sat in the fourth row. As you began to pull your stuff out more and more people started filling up the seats. You were beginning to regret returning the coffee Gojo had bought for you due to the lack of sleep.

“Y/N don’t run off like that, I almost lost you in the crowd.” You turned your head and there he was, sitting right next to you while wearing that stupid grin “Sorry some of it spilled out, but it’s still perfectly fine.” he admitted as he slid the iced coffee towards you. You looked away, you thought Gojo would finally get the hint to leave you alone and yet he just kept going on Until..

“Good morning Satoru!” a girl smiled as she sat down in the row in front of us “Why do you have two coffees?”

He cocked a smile “Good morning Yuri,” he greeted before he took your coffee and handed it in her direction, “Ehh, they gave me an extra drink. But I wouldn’t mind giving it to you.” 

You turned your head to watch the scene play out, that bastard and his cheap tricks. “That was supposed to be my coffee” is what you wanted to say, but you knew it’d be best not to get tangled in Gojo’s business. You turned away looking for a new seat. You packed your things and headed towards the back of the lecture hall.

The girls face lit up in excitement “Of cour-”

“Kidding, this is Y/N’s.” but before Gojo could turn his head back to you to flash that idiotic smile of his you were nowhere to be found. 

⋆ 💌⋆

The lecture was finally over and just as you were finishing up your notes a figure appeared. “Y/N it’s rude to leave without saying anything.” He slid your cup of coffee on the desk.

“Thought you gave it to that girl.” 

“I bought it for you, not her.” he stated firmly, he grabbed your bag and walked towards the door, “Are you coming or not?”

“Huh, where are you and I going? And give me back my bag.” 

Satoru turned on his heels and leaned down to your height pressing his pointer finger on his lips. His crystal blue eyes met yours and you were at a loss of words, his eyes truly were beautiful and you almost let a compliment slip until you realized who those eyes belonged to.

“It’s a secret of course, and its ‘we’ Y/N, say ‘where are we going’, what good if there in having a parter if you aren’t even acknowledging them correctly?” 

“You aren’t my partner, work alone.” you handed him the cup of coffee and  seized your bag out of his arms. For the second time this week Gojo was now staring at your back as you walked away, your figure getting smaller and smaller each step you took before you were one with the crowd. Gojo stared down at the cup and noticed that you didn’t take any sips of the caffeinated drink that he purposefully bought for you. 

“Warm up to me soon will you?” he whispered to himself as he passed by a trashcan throwing the drink away.

⋆ 💌⋆

The next morning you found Gojo patiently waiting for your arrival, in his hands were two cups of coffee, it doesn’t look like he’s noticed you so you take that advantage and walk behind a group of students going to their next class. As you were passing by desperately trying to avoid any form of contact with Gojo you unintentionally eavesdropped on a conversation he was having over the phone. Unfortunately you weren’t able to hear the other side of the line.

“Another bet? Sugu’ that’s shitty” He laughed  “No, she already thinks I’m an asshole and making a bet with you involving her would make things worse. Okay okay okay one month right? Okay bye.”

Fucking bastard. Who does he think he is, making a bet to see if he can fuck someone he called unfuckable.

⋆ 💌⋆

Just when you thought you were finally free from the virus known as Gojo, the chair next to you became occupied by the person you thought you’d be able to ignore. 

“G’morin’ Y/N!” he cheered gaining the attention of all the students that had the decency to come early “Got you some coffee, promise I won’t give it to anyone this time.” 

You ignored him and reviewed the notes you took yesterday, as class began the thought of Gojo sitting next to you slipped your mind until he moved his elbow with the intentions of hitting yours but knocked down the coffee he brought you onto your notes. 

“Whoopsies.” He laughed it off and gave you his notes for you to copy off of

“Gojo I can’t read this.”

“You don’t have to be so picky Y/N, who else is gonna let you borrow their notes you don’t have any friends.”

Asshole.

⋆ 💌⋆

The next morning Gojo showed up with two cups of coffee again and this time he brought a couple of napkins. He sat down next to you and placed the cup in front of you. 

“Didn’t you learn from last time?” you questioned as you slid the cup back to Gojo.

“Well maybe if you actually drank it I wouldn’t have spilled it.” he pouted and pulled out a new notebook “Here, since I did ruin your old one.”

You opened the notebook and there was a drawing of a penis on each of the pages.

You took a deep breath and faced Gojo, it took almost everything out of you not to dump the coffee on this man whore again. 

⋆ 💌⋆

As the next day came you expected Gojo to sit next to you but today he didn’t, you finally got to pay attention and take proper notes without anything getting spilled on them. After class ended, you found yourself going to get bread from a bakery near your school, but as soon as you were about to pay a pair of cold hands reached over yours handing his card to the cashier instead of yours.  “’s okay I got it.” he said smiling as he slithered his hand around your shoulder. You slid his hand off and pulled him to the back of the bakery.

“Woah Woah Y/N we can’t do it here there are people from our class watching!” He teased as he threw his hands in the air as a sign of defense. 

“What do you want from me.” 

“What?”

You took a step forward, closing the little space you had between the two of you “What do you” poking his chest with your pointer finger you inched closer “want from me?”

Gojo leaned forward and whispered “Be my partner again Y/N.” Gojo felt you stepping away, furthering the distance you once closed. He pulled you into his chest and rocked himself, along with you following side to side due to his strong grip. One of his arms wrapped around your neck as the other slid down to the small of your back.  “What’s so bad about being my parter? Afraid I’m gonna use you like the chick you saw me in the library with?”

“I don’t want a man whore as my partner.” you huffed. Gojo flinched at the harsh words you used to describe him, nonetheless he still held you close, his cold hands grabbed your wrists guiding your arm to his back wrapping them around himself. 

“What do I have to do to prove to you I’m not a man whore?” he asked rubbing your back and pulling you closer to his chest. God how many layers of cologne  does this man lather on himself. 

“You can start by getting off me.” 

“Mmm.” he pulled you even closer to the point where you two had little to no space whatsoever between your two bodies. “Only if you agree to take me back as you partner.” 

You sighed giving in “Let me think about it?”

“M’kay!” he said pulling you even closer before letting you go.

⋆ 💌⋆

You walked back to campus with Gojo, the walk was quiet and peaceful. The sound of cars passing by along with the birds chirping filled your ears and it was a much needed break after eating at the bakery with Gojo filling your thoughts with nonsense. 

You and Gojo were on your way to the next lecture of the day until Gojo stopped walking. 

“Gojo?” 

“Sorry Y/N I have to take a leak, can you please wait for me? I wanna be able to sit next to you in class.” 

You nodded and waited on a bench that was within a few feat of the bathrooms, moments later you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey that was fast, did you wash your hands?” You questioned finally looking up realizing it wasn’t Gojo but the girl who Gojo offered your coffee to, Yuri. “Oh.. Can I help you?” 

“Is Satoru really dating you?” She began to laugh and the two girls behind her joined after giving you a hard gaze. 

“What no-”

“Probably one of his bets with Suguru. Like Satoru would ever wanna date you. What are you after? His money?”

“Huh no.”

“Please, save the bullshit, how much did you sell yourself for Satoru to hold you in the bakery like that? Or did you force yourself on hi-”

Before she could continue the stinging sensation that was both on your hand and face shut her up. She held her hand up and you flinched waiting for the contact that her hand would soon make with your face, but instead when you opened your eyes Gojo’s hand had grabbed her wrist before the contact was ever made. 

He shoved Yuri’s hand away and grabbed your hand dragging you to your next lecture. 

⋆ 💌⋆

During the long boring lecture the only thing you were able to think about was everything that happened moments before class began. Losing yourself in your thoughts Gojo slid a piece of paper with the words: “are you okay :( ?”

You replied with: “Yes. I’m fine, thank you.” Gojo smiled to himself as he replayed the scene of him coming to your rescue, cocky bastard.

Ripping off a piece of paper from the corner of your notebook, you wrote down a few words and placed the folded piece of paper onto Gojo’s open palm. 

“I guess, you can be my partner again.”

That day Gojo Satoru wore the smile that you gave to him proudly.

⋆ 💌⋆

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾𝙾 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!  𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

⋆ 💌⋆

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @peppytine @enesitamor

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚎𝚜. (𝟺/𝟸𝟶) 

© 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚓𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚋𝚢𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛

⋆ 💌⋆

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 4

Request: Yes or No

TW: Drug mention, needle mention, overdose mention

I'm still unsure on the twins ages in age of ultron since one source says 16 and the other says 26 lmao. Imma just say the twins are 17 or 18.

~

You stared down at the city below with a frown. You knew Clint wouldn't rest until Natasha was found. Everything had happened so quickly and even if you had tried to catch her with a root, you would've been pulled along. A sigh left you as you sat down at your desk. Your room in the tower felt like a cell. Gray walls, white bed, white desk. The only real color in the room came from the line of potted flowers on the desk. You felt your stomach grumble, standing up and leaving the room. You headed to the kitchen, getting a granola bar. You opened it, taking a bite from it. You almost choked, hearing crashing and arguing. You swallowed the bits of granola as you followed the noises to the laboratory. You headed up the stairs, dodging a flying Steve.

"What the fuck?" You turned your head, seeing the Maximoff twins. "What the fuck?" You repeated, watching them in bewilderment. Another one left you when Thor crashed through a window, raising his hammer and letting the electricity power the cradle. Nothing happened for a moment before the cradle burst open, causing Thor to fly back.

"I should've stayed with Laura." You whispered, staring at the red man that emerged from the cradle. He slowly stood, looking between everyone. His gaze settled on Thor, lunging for him but Thor grabbed him and threw him to the side, causing another crash.

"(Y/N), stay close." Clint called, eyeing the twins. You quickly walked over to him, hearing the crunching of glass beneth your shoes. While Thor and Steve took the dramatic way, you chose to use the door and head to the room Vision was in. Thor raised his hand, stopping Steve from attacked. The man stared out into the city, staying silent and motionless. Thor set down his hammer as the man landed on the door, apologizing to Thor and mimicking his cape.

"Thor, you helped create this?"

"I've had a vision. A whirlpool that sucks in all forms of life and at its center is that." Thor explained, pointing at the crystal in the mans forehead.

"What, the gem?" Bruce asked, watching Thor look at him.

"The mind stone." He corrected. "It's one of the six infinity stones. The greatest power in the universe with destructive abilities." Thor explained as he faced everyone.

"It looks like a citrine." You muttered, continuing to unwrap the rest of your granola bar, swiping away the crumbs that fell on the floor with your foot.

"A what?" Clint asked softly. You glanced at him.

"It's a type of gemstone. It's supposed to motivate you to take action." You shrugged lightly. Gemstones were pretty interesting to study, even more so when they had so called 'destructive abilities.'

"Stark's right."

"Oh, it's definitely the end." Bruce said quietly.

"Why does your vision sound like J.A.R.V.I.S?" Steve asked as he watched the man walk forward. Tony explained why, still in awe and surprise. The man looked at Steve.

"You think I'm a child of Ultron?" Though it sounded like a question, it was obvious it was a statement.

"You're not?"

"I'm not Ultron." The man replied softly, almost confused. "And.. I'm not J.A.R.V.I.S either."

"I looked in your head and saw annihilation." Wanda said, stepping forward as she glared at him. Clint scoffed softly, walking towards everyone. You followed, tossing the wrapper into the trashcan.

"Look again."

"Your approval seems jack to me." Clint said, gaze staying locked on the twins. Wanda's gaze went to Clint before going to you. You maintained brief eye contact. It wasn't everyday you met another meta.

"Her powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultrons powers.. They all came from the mind stone. Nothing compares to what it can unleash." Thor revealed. "And with it on our side-"

"Is it?" Steve interrupted, looking at the man again.

"Are you? On our side?"

"I don't think it's that simple." He replied softly.

"Sounds pretty simple. Death or life for humanity." You said, shrugging. He looked at you, giving a small nod before looking at the others.

"Then.. I'm on the side of life. Ultron isn't." He took small steps forward, not wanting to agitate anyone.

"What's he waiting for?"

"You." The man stared at Tony. You were already coming up with names for him. Tony Jr was the one sticking.

"Sokavia's our best bet." Tony said.

"Nat's there too." Clint told them, looking at Bruce when he approached the man.

"If we're wrong about you..." Bruce started softly. His threats were always amusing until he turned green. He stared at Tony Jr, letting it up to his imagination, if he had that.

"I don't want to kill Ultron." Tony Jr walked around Bruce, continuing past everyone.

"He's weak.. And in pain but that pain will roll over the Earth, so he must be destroyed. Every forms he's built, every sense of his presence on the net. We have to act now and not one of us can do it without the other." Tony Jr turned, facing them. He looked down at his hands.

"Maybe I am a monster. I don't know if I will become one.. I'm not what you are. I'm not what you intended. So there may be no way for you to trust me but we need to go." Tony Jr finished his speech, picking up Thors hammer and handing it to him. The room stayed silent as everyone took it in. Thor took his hammer, clearing his throat and nodding.

"Alright." He gave a small smile, walking away. You sighed, turning around and walking towards the bar.

"Don't even think about it." Clint called as he walked past you. You huffed, watching him go.

"Seriously?" You rolled your eyes, looking over your shoulder at the twins. They walked away in amusement, following Steve's directions to the lockers. You walked to your room, putting on the outfit Clint had designed for you. You looked at a picture of you and Clint, smiling softly. You left the room, walking down the hall. You noticed Thor and Tony Jr talking outside, arms crossing as you approached the glass. You stared at the two, gaze locking onto the reflection of the twins. You turned to face them, seeing Wanda pause and stay in her spot.

"Sorry about choking you." You spoke first, looking between them. Wanda gave a small nod, hand gently gripping her arm.

"Did you get experimented on like us?" Pietro asked, head tilting. Some white strands fell over his face. You shook your head, biting your bottom lip as you thought on how to explain it.

"From what Bruce told me, my mother had drugs in her system during labor. It was an unknown drug that they still haven't identified but Bruce says that it might've given me some freak cell mutation that gave me these powerd. It's weird. Clint said it took a long time to even find any information on my family. I don't know if it's true or something that they told me to make me feel better about being orphaned." The twins gaze softened, glancing at each other. Wanda licked her lips, glancing at the ground.

"When were you orphaned?" She asked softly.

"When I was a baby. My mom died in labor and my dad had been found dead with a needle in his arm a day later. I was put into an orphanage cause my parents were seen as a Jane Doe and John Doe. Again, it's weird." You told them, shrugging lightly. Pietro took in a soft breath, gaze becoming distant.

"We're orphans too. I'm sure you already know what happened by now but.. A bomb killed them." Pietro said softly. He took in a deeper breath, giving a small smile to lighten the mood.

"I suppose that's another thing we have in common." He pointed out with a small shrug. You nodded, smiling softly. It was nice to be around people your age who understood you. Even Wanda seemed relaxed and more comfortable.

"(Y/N), what'd I say?" You looked up upon hearing Clint's voice.

"You were the one who left me alone to change." You reminded him with a soft huff, going around the twins and approaching him. Clint shot you a pointed look, glancing at the twins. You understood why he was distrustful of them.

"Clint, they're like me." You said quietly as you walked with him to the aircraft.

"You're not like them."

"Yes, I am. They're metas and around my age. Weren't you the one who said I had to work on my people skills?" You cocked a brow as you stared at him. Clint stayed silent, giving you the answer.

"They were fighting for their country after it was attacked. They have all the right to be distrustful-"

"After one conversation, you can tell apart the difference between good guys and bad guys?"

"I don't know, Clint, you tell me. You were the one who chose to take in a kid who almost choked your best friend to death and attempted to impale Americas biggest playboy with a fucking branch." You hissed lowly, frowning and looking forward.

"You were, and still are, a kid." Clint said, voice becoming hard and stricter.

"Oh, well, fuck me, I didn't realize the twins were in their eighties."

"Quit giving me attitude, (Y/N). I want to protect you. You don't know if they're gonna stab us in the back when we least expect it. If we destroy Ultron and they stay on our side, you can play dolls with them." Clint said, approaching the aircraft.

"Whatever." You entered the aircraft, taking a seat. The others entered not long after. The twins sat down beside you as Clint headed to the front.

"We didn't get you in trouble, did we?" Wanda asked quietly, glancing over at Clint. You shook your head, toying with the roots in order to relax.

"No, just.. Strict dad drama." You muttered. Wanda tilted her head, making eye contact with Pietro before it clicked.

"Oh.. He adopted you? That's nice." Wanda gave a small smile. "Maybe the Avengers aren't so heartless."

"We aren't." You assured, looking between her and Pietro. "It'll take a while but.. We can all grow to trust each other."

"I hope so." Pietro breathed out, hands going to the belt as the aircraft lifted up. You chuckled at the nervous look on his face.

[angelguk]

anon said jk as william from skam i had 2 deliver. didn’t write the exact scene they mentioned but hey! asshole jk has to make an introduction first. golden campus boy jk and oc who sees through all his lies. roughly 1k. listen to pretty please by dua lipa

Jeon Jeongguk is the most obnoxious irritating individual that you’ve ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with. There’s something about him that irks the very base of your soul; perhaps it’s the way he coifs his chestnut curls into that hairstyle that every asshole parades around with – or maybe it’s the way he leans on his motorbike with that smirk tugging at his pink lips and his leather jacket slung over his shoulder. Regardless, you’d rather have your eyes plucked out than willing spark a conversation with him. And yet, for some reason unbeknownst to you, every single person roaming on this campus loves him – adores him. The Golden Boy – that’s what the call him, flocking around him and his posse like a bunch of brainless birds hoping he’d toss them some crumbs to fight over. You’ve never been able to understand how he’s got the whole school wrapped around his finger, especially because despite his charming demeanour and pretty face Jeon Jeongguk was a grade-A asshole who didn’t deserve an ounce of anyone’s attention. And the proof of that was right in front of you, present in the wet streaks staining Haerin’s cheeks.

“Yah! You can’t keep crying over that asshole!” Iseul says, fiercely crumpling up the empty packet of chips in her hands. “This is what he wants you to do! You have to move on!”

You slump further into the bench situated outside the entrance of your university, taking a swift glance at your phone screen. Five minutes until your marketing lecture starts and Haerin is still snivelling.

“I – I know,” she hiccups. “But he said he loved me! He even gave me his letterman jacket. No one has ever gotten his jacket before. I was special to him – wasn’t I?”

There’s a pause in the conversation. Iseul wordlessly staring at you, because you both recall what occurred yesterday. Haerin’s crying had driven you over the edge and you’d snapped, right here in the middle of the courtyard.

The jacket she’s talking about is probably somewhere in one of the surrounding trashcans. You’d tossed it after you’d yelled at him. And he’d watched you fling it away with that stupid fucking grin still plastered on his face.

“Haerin-ah,” you sigh, straightening your back. If you didn’t want your professor to chew your ass you need to get moving – quick. “Jeongguk is a piece of trash. His dick isn’t that good enough for you to cry over him in public.” She sniffles at that, hands pawing away her tears. “You know what, after my lecture, I’ll treat you to lunch. How’s that sound? And then we can find a way to make that assholes life hell? Hmm? You down with that?”

She nods, Iseul following the motion a second later. “Charlie’s?” she questions.

You smile, “Of course we’ll go to Charlie’s. That’s your favourite place after all. But for now, I have a lecture I need to run to. See you later?”

Haerin hiccups but her eyes aren’t slipping tears anymore. “Okay. See you.”

You wave them a quick goodbye as you take off, making it just in time to swipe your card for attendance moments before Professor Bang saunters into the room, slamming his briefcase onto the table the moment your bum settles into the chair of your usual position.

“Good morning,” he mutters, releasing a cough that echoes through the hall. “I hope you’ve all taken the opportunity to review the material for the final assignment that I sent you all. A reminder that you have to inform me of your group partners by the end of this week. We’ll be discussing any questions you have today.”

There’s a collective mumbled noise of acknowledgement that emits from your classmates. For a second, you fold into yourself. This was a new class for you and you hadn’t attended enough lectures to make any solid bonds with anyone. That’s why you were huddled in a corner allow, pen and notebook sitting patiently on the table as you waited for Bang to launch into his lecture. Even with a glance around you already have the feeling that everyone else has formed the groups they wanted to be in. You read it in the close leans and murmured comments that sweep across the room, suddenly feeling smaller than you usually feel.

And then it all changes.

He kicks the door open. No knock – no warning. And then he steps in, stride so confident that you can’t help but glance at who this intruder is. But the moment his face comes into view, you wish that you hadn’t.

He’s wearing his jacket. It looks new, still stiff over his shoulders. Perhaps Jeongguk had given out that jacket to more girls than he told Haerin because there’s no way the salvaged that from the trash. You gaze flickers over to your professor, and he looks vexed – just for a brief moment because then Jeongguk smiles at him, that evil grin melting over his features so fast that it hits you with whiplash.

“Oh! Good morning, sir. Sincere apologies for being late, I couldn’t locate this lecture hall.” The smile never falters. You ache to throw something at this ginormous head of his.

“Jeongguk? You’re in this class?” Bang mumbles, waddling over like a stupid penguin.

“Yes, sir. I just transferred. I’ve been meaning to attend one of your lectures and this seemed like the perfect class for you. You know how much I admire your teaching, sir.”

Lies, lies, lies. If anything Jeongguk was looking for an easy class to pass.

“Of course! Of course! Come in, we’ve just begun the lessons so you haven’t missed much. In fact, today we’ll be discussing the assignment for this module. Take a seat!”

Jeongguk grins at him, lifting a hand to ruffle at his tousled curls. “Thank you, sir.” The muted collective sigh that every girl in the room releases makes you want to rip your ears off. But then his gaze shifts over the room, searching for an empty seat to place himself. You don’t think much of it, already reaching for your phone so you can text Iseul about this disastrous event. Sharing air with Jeongguk made you want to die so being in the same goddamn classes as him was going to worst experience of your life. But as you type your eyes pick up on the sound of footsteps moving in your direction. It happens so you quick you don’t even register the moment. One second he’s walking up the stairs, feet coming in your direction. You pray he goes past you, to the group of girls secretly giggling at the attention he’s giving the people seated in this area. But then his bag hits the table. Your table. He sits down a beat later, legs bumping into your own.

It takes everything in you not to jump him for having the audacity to be close to you. Particularly after yesterday.

“Leave,” You comment instead, your fingers vehemently stabbing your keyboard. If you kill him Iseul is going to help you hide his body.

Jeongguk laughs, a low sound that wraps itself around you. “Hello to you too beautiful.”

"Shut up, dickhead."

[abortionado]

Maybe a moreid based of this quote “You never meant for it to end this way right?”

Lmaoo so naturally I got carried away and this is actually like, many words and not 500 anyway

tw for drug use

If there were really a Hell, Derek is convinced that it’d look a lot like the detox unit at the  Quantico hospital. 

It’s an ugly place—peeling, water-stained wallpaper, an overpowering stench of Lysol wipes and bleach, sterile but not pristine or well-lit like the one up the interstate in DC—and even just walking down the hall, before he so much as lays eyes on Spencer, the absolute misery of it all is suffocating.

He’s alone. 

The first time Spencer overdosed and had to spend two weeks detoxing, the whole unit had accompanied him down this hall. 

After all, the addiction was hardly Spencer’s fault, and none of them had been helpful about it, so their collective guilt compelled them to the hospital. 

Some days, they took turns visiting him one-on-one, and some days, they’d gather around and bicker like a mildly dysfunctional family as they tried to pick a movie to distract Spencer from his withdrawal pains, but Derek was always there. 

Penelope made a garland of pressed flowers and draped it across the dresser in the corner of the room. Prentiss snuck Spencer some real coffee (they told her she couldn’t have outside containers with her, but she flashed them her FBI badge, which didn’t make sense but seemed to do the trick anyway), since he was only allowed to have decaf while detoxing. Hotch (who, Derek remarked to himself at the time, must have an EQ of approximately 1) was as unflinching as usual, but burst into the room almost daily to let Spencer know that he had Diana on the phone, which was his extremely detached way of apologizing from the bottom of his heart. JJ brought photos to tape to Spencer’s blank, ugly walls. She wrote NEVER FORGET: THE BAU LOVES YOU :)! in the middle of a large posterboard and taped it directly across from his bed.

(See that, Spence? Now you’ll have to think about that every morning as soon as you wake up and every night right before you go to sleep, she told him.)

After everyone else had left each day, just before the hospital locked down and visiting hours ended, Derek would sit by Spencer’s bed and hold his sweaty, shaking hand. (These were his favorite moments—Spencer was relaxed around him, and he’d always loved hearing what was on his mind.)

I feel loved, Spencer would tell him.

You are.

I want to get better. I have to get better. 

You will. 

And for a while, it almost seemed like he would. 

It seemed like he did, in fact, until Derek found him convulsing on their bathroom floor. 

That time, there was no outpouring of love in the hospital room. There were no posters or garlands or contraband caffeine. 

Derek still stayed with him as much as he could. As much as it hurt to see his beautiful boy in so much pain, he always went to him after work, holding his trembling hands and eyeing the angry red track marks that littered his thin, pale arms. (He hated looking at the injection sites. He kissed them and halfway hoped that when he pulled his lips away, they’d somehow be gone.)

When the team came to visit, they were always quiet. Pensive. Sad. 

Hotch visited Spencer only once, to let him know that he would be relieved of his duties immediately, and he needed to turn in his gun and badge as soon as he was discharged from the hospital.  

I’m disappointed in you, Reid, he said, but even more disappointed that I let you turn out this way. You had so much potential. 

Spencer cried himself to hiccups for three days, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for him. 

That second overdose ate away at them. 

The safe, domestic space they'd intentionally created for themselves away from the violence of their work had been violated—by both broken trust and the overall trauma of the overdose at home—and their house was not the peaceful, welcoming home it had once been.

The tension in which they lived now was nearly intolerable, but sometimes, when Spencer would fall asleep on the couch curled up against Derek’s chest, or when he’d wrap his arms around Derek’s neck in the shower and hum contentedly as he washed his hair, he hated himself for even thinking of abandoning Spencer. These were moments when he was very much still the sweet, passionate, awkwardly affectionate Spencer Reid he’d fallen in love with three years ago, and Derek couldn’t bring himself to drive those moments out of his life. 

It wasn’t until Spencer started using heroin that his habit really, truly became intolerable. 

Dilaudid, created in a lab, tested and approved by the FDA, is expensive. Far too expensive for someone without a job. 

Heroin, however, mixed god-knows-where with god-knows-what by god-knows-who, is cheap. (Not cheap enough that Spencer doesn’t have to steal money and pawn off the heirloom watch he got from his grandfather, but still far cheaper than Dilaudid.)

Derek figures it out when he finds a broken water balloon buried in their bathroom trashcan. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I don’t know. I’m sorry. 

Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?

Yes. I know. Derek, I’m sorry—

Are you insane? “Sorry” is not good enough anymore, do you understand that? One of these days, you’re gonna wind up face-down in a ditch and I’m not gonna know what happened to you. I can’t fucking take that.

I—

Last chance. Last chance to take this seriously. I’m taking you to day treatment one more fucking time and that’s it. You choose. You can choose me, or you can choose this shit, but you can’t have both anymore. 

Naturally, Spencer’s third overdose hasn’t found him well. 

Derek’s so familiar with the Quantico hospital’s detox unit by now that he doesn’t even have to be shown to Spencer’s room. He declines the offer to be shown around, and the nurse, who recognizes him, gives him a pitying look. 

He navigates the hall completely alone—no nurses or teammates by his sides.

When he opens the door, Spencer is sitting upright in bed, holding his face in his hands. 

Derek wordlessly pulls the chair in the corner of the room up to his bedside. 

“You know what I’m about to say to you?” 

“Yes,” Spencer whispers. “You never meant for it to end this way, right?” 

“Right.” 

They sit in thick, painful silence for a moment. 

“I love you,” Derek says eventually. “I don’t want to, but I do, and I’m probably gonna love you for the rest of my life. I gave you a choice, remember?”

“I…I know.” 

“Right. And...you made your choice. But…if you ever change your mind, if you…get clean, and you make a different choice, I’ll still be here, okay? My number will stay the same.” 

Spencer’s face crumples, and he begins to cry freely, chest heaving, tears falling rapidly down his hollowed, gaunt cheeks. God, he must be thirty pounds underweight. 

For just a moment, Derek feels the urge to wrap his arms around Spencer’s shaking shoulders and wipe the tears from his beautiful brown eyes. He wants to comfort him, make him feel safe and loved the way he used to before narcotics took the job. 

Instead, he stands up, turns his back on the love of his life, and prepares to face a life as lonely and desolate as the halls of the Quantico detox unit.

[eagesoldartblog]

“you brought starbucks to class and i literally begged you to pour some into my empty water bottle and thank you so much hey do you maybe want dinner sometime to make up for it no other reason” vithur maybe? :0c

Vivi was exhausted. She was awake all night, slamming her head against every book she had to read for class today. Chapter sixteen for astronomy, chapter four through six for English, three articles of some voyage in the pacific… all of the words wound up melding together in one big blur and by three am, Vivi called it quits and opted to look up the blurbs in the morning.

Well, it’s now morning, and she can’t even see straight. Trust her, she tried to absorb as much information from the summaries on the bus with. But the whiteness of the pages made her eyes burn and the abruptness of the rocky bus was more than enough to upset her soured stomach.

“How come sleeping can make you feel ill?” She whispers to herself, dragging her feet and climbing up the stairs of the highschool. Thankfully it wasn’t so unusual for a student to amble around like a zombie, but Vivi didn’t want to catch anyone’s gaze and risk being pulled into a conversation. It might wake her up a bit more, but honestly Vivi wasn’t in the mood. 

All she wanted was to get to her class, and take a quick catnap before the teacher came in and put them to work.

And some coffee.

Coffee would be great. 

Then again coffee was the main reason why she stayed up so late. Vivi reminisced bitterly. It sucked so much, but that’s what she gets for trying to choke down cold coffee at midnight to fuel her last minute escapade…

Pulling herself up the last steps, Vivi sighs with relief and plops down on an empty bench. Instantly her head and chest sag forward and if Vivi wasn’t gripping the bench seat, she would have toppled over. 

Again, not an unusual sight, but she wasn’t in the mood.

Closing her eyes, Vivi takes a deep breath. Okay, class should start in fifteen minutes- probably. Don’t fall asleep.

Easy enough, just sit there with her eyes closed. Resting. It’s fun! 

And for a moment, Vivi found her thoughts drifting into a dark… lovely abyss…

...

“Hey Vivi,” a hand claps against her shoulder and Vivi’s eyes shoot open with a jolt. Gasping- coughing as he whips her head to look at who the hell decided to wake her up-

“Oh,” she swallows thickly, “hey Arthur.”

Sitting beside her, in all of his gangly glory was in fact Arthur kingsmen, local insomniac and brainiac… and her class friend. Honestly Vivi wished they talked outside of class more often, but… 

“How are you doing?” Arthur asks, taking a sip from his white cup thing- cup. Cup? Not answering his question, Vivi pointedly glances down at the item and squints her eyes.

“F-fine fine… whatcha got there?”

Arthur follows her gaze and laughs, “Damn I see, don’t wanna talk to me but take my coffee, Huh? Is that it?”

“No!” She spits back, glaring at him, before she falters and sinks back, “...Maybe.” 

Arthur snickers, and hides it beside him, “I can’t believe this. And here I thought you liked me!”

Vivi blows a raspberry and crosses her legs, “Can you blame me? I didn’t go to bed until three am because of school.. I didn’t even finish half of the assigned reading!” 

“Why’s that?”

“I… got distracted by a book about demons. Next thing I knew it was nine and I still was up to my ass in work.”

Another pat against her shoulder, and Vivi was half tempted to smack it away.

“Sounds rough… do you have an empty water bottle?” Arthur snags his cup and holds it up. Starbucks, wow decided to splurge, huh? “You look like you need it more than I do, so I can give you half, sounds good?” 

Vivi wraps an arm around his chest and squeezes, enough to make Arthur cringe. “Yes, please holy shit, I need anything right now..!”

“Where’s your bottle then?”

“Locker,” Vivi’s voice is muffled against arthurs side, still hugging him.

“Well then get up,” Arthur jabs her head with his elbow lightly, forcing her to recoil loosely hug him, “Class is starting soon, cmon.”

“God dammit- always making me move- you suck.”

Vivi huffs bitterly, resetting the lock in a quick, overly rough motion that only seemed to highlight how tired she still was. All while Arthur takes an obnoxious sip. 

“Its getting cold~” 

“Throw yourself down the stairs,” Vivi hisses back. Behind her, Arthur snorts. Just in time for her fingers to cooperate and Vivi almost slams the locker open. Which in turn has several of her empty water bottles clattering out. 

Arthur clicks his tongue as Vivi drops down to snag the bottle from rolling away, “Nice hoard.” 

“Thanks,” Not moving from her knees, Vivi shoves her empty bottle against his leg, “Now be a dear~ I gotta toss some of these…” 

Vivi tosses them quickly into a nearby trashcan, and returns to Arthur with a hopeful look in her eye, hoping Arthur could grant her this one wish and hurry the fuck up.

Making sure to avoid spilling, Arthur fills the bottle a little over half way. He glances up just in time to see Vivi slouching there. With bags almost as deep as his. 

Only for her face to light up when he hands it over. Her exhaustion shifts to weary glee and Vivi immediately takes a swig back- 

And chokes. 

“Oh my god-” She’s muffled by her sleeve, covering her mouth as shock fills her face, “Arthur, what the hell are you drinking? This tastes like gasoline.”

Now its his turn to smirk, shifting his weight and taking another sip. “Its expresso.” 

“God-” Vivi’s eye twitches, and she takes another drink, shuddering as it goes down, “How much did you even pay for this cr- this.”

“Too much. That's for sure..” Arthur says, sighing wearily. He rubs his eyes and suppresses a yawn. 

Vivi huffs, choking back another god awful sip, “I’m gonna take you out, got it? Find you something better then just… expresso.”

“But I like it.”

“Well you’re a masochist. And because you are-” She falters the smallest bit, unable to tell if her brain is muddled because of the drink or sleep deprivation, “... tell you what! Come to my house sometime- maybe later? And I’ll make you something good and we can watch movies. I got an impressive set of horror films from my parents place and I’ve pirated a bunch of others-” 

Arthur tilts his head, scratching his chin, “Don’t you have homework?” 

“We can have it over the weekend,” Vivi shrugs, closing her locker, “...after I finish my presentation. I don’t think my guardian will be happy about me doing shitty.” 

Arthur bobs his head in agreement, “I’ll talk to my uncle if he could drop me off then. Wanna give me your address now or-?” 

“Tomorrow. I’ll make sure to jot it down.”

“Sounds like a date.” 

Vivi snickers, her cheeks warming as she straightens up, “If you wanna call it that~ then by all means! Maybe you’ll even whisk me off my feet!”

“Psh, no, Lewis is more capable of that.” Arthur says, and the two start to amble down the hall to Vivi’s first class. 

“But what if I don’t want lewis?”

“Then you should, you deserve better.”

What? Vivi’s mind freezes, preparing to ask him to explain himself.

But the bell rings. Arthur waves and is walking off, leaving her in the dust and glaring over her drink. Later…

Arthur cant escape forth period.

[idumpyourgrass]

Always Waiting- Chapter Sixteen

Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Always Waiting Masterlist

Summary: Dustin, Robin, and Erica babysit drugged Y/n and Steve. Y/n and Steve share their feelings, The party reunites

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/n: Hey guys I’m back! I’m so sad this is almost done, only a couple more chapters! I’m planning on getting my summary out for my new writing in a couple days so I can start a taglist! I think I will cutoff the taglist here since there’s really only one more chapter then the epilogue!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of getting beaten up? Cheesy fluff, typos ofc

Word Count: 2k

 You, Steve, and Erica get thrown around in the back of the car while Robin and Dustin sit up front.

“Jesus, slow down.” Steve mumbles.

“Yeah what is this? The Indy 500?” You ask.

“It’s the Indy 300,” Steve argues.

“No, idiot, it’s the Indy 500.”

“It’s 300!”

“Let’s say…a million!” You and Steve erupt into laughter.

“Can you both just shut up!” Erica scolds you both.

Robin looks back at you while her and Dustin try to figure out what is wrong with you.

“Robin watch out!” Dustin yells.

“Shit!” She whips around, breaking the car before running into a barrel. You fall on top of Steve, groaning.

“Are you three alright back there?” Dustin asks. Steve groans in response.

“We gotta go.” Robin and Dustin rush to the back opening the door. Erica hops out trying to drag you out with her.

“Come on! Get out!”

Robin helps Erica pull you out. Dustin rushes to the elevator. He holds a keycard up to the scanner and the doors open.

Steve runs and stands up on a cart, pretending like he’s surfing. You lay on the ground giggling. Dustin makes his way over to you, placing a hand on your forehead.

“You’re burning up.” You start squirming around, hitting Dustin’s hand off your forehead.

“Quit it!” Dustin scolds as he takes a look at your eyes, “Her eyes are super dilated.” You bop his nose with your finger.

“I love you Dusty!”

“Maybe she’s drugged?” Robin suggests.

“Robin you are my bestest friend in the whole wide world!”

Dustin holds onto your hands, trying to keep you from moving around, “Hey, Y/n, are you drugged?”

“I don’t do drugs, Dusty.”

You look up at Steve and smile, “Harrington when this is over, you owe me a kiss.”

Steve jumps off the cart, stumbling a little bit, “We could kiss right now!” You erupt into laughter. Dustin’s jaw drops to the floor, “No! I don’t care how drugged you are, you are not kissing!” Dustin pushes Steve away from you.

The elevator stops and Dustin pushes you out, “come on, let’s go!”

The air outside tasted amazing when it hit your tongue. You hold your mouth open and take in all the air you can.

“Oh shit,” Robin says. A Russian guard comes running towards you all. Dustin pushes you back through the door.

“Where are we going?” Steve asks.

“Weeeeee!” You put your arms in the air.

You all run through the back halls of the mall, you and Steve lollygagging in the back.

“Where are we going?” Erica asks.

“Just trust me.” Dustin opens a door and you all walk into the movie theatre. Steve sees some popcorn in a trashcan and grabs in.

The dimly lit movie theatre is filled with people. Dustin pushes you into a seat next to Steve, “You two, stay here, and keep your hands to yourself.”

You stick your tongue out at him, giggling. You look up at the screen, “What’s going on?” You whisper to Steve, sticking your hand into the popcorn bag.

“I have no idea.” 

You become so enhanced by the movie, though you had no clue what was going on.

“This is amazing,” you say.

“I’m bored,” Steve complains, he gets out of his seat and runs out the door, you laugh and follow him out. He heads towards the drinking fountain. You lean against the wall.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to fuck her son.”

Steve stops drinking for a second, “Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” He goes back to drinking the water.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure.” You nod.

“How is that even possible?”

“Because he went back in time.” You answer all his questions.

“Then why is it called back to the future?”

“Because he has to go back to the future because he’s in the past,” Steve looks up at you with a confused face, you continue, “so the future is really the present, which is his time.” You look at Steve.

“Wh-what?”

You push him out of the way of the drinking fountain, “You’ve had enough.”

The water tastes like heaven. You take huge gulps.

“Hey, Y/n, come look at this.” Steve is looking up at the ceiling with a dazed look on his face. You make your way over to him and follow his gaze, looking up. The ceiling looked like it was spinning. You were seeing all different kinds of colors and shapes.

“Woah,” it looked so cool. The more you looked, the dizzier you got, but you couldn’t look away. You felt a familiar feeling in your stomach. You clamped a hand over your mouth as you felt yourself starting to gag. You ran towards the bathroom, Steve right behind you. You fly into a stall and kneel in front of the toilet.

You are sure you’ve thrown up everything in your stomach. You flush the toilet and lean against the wall of the stall, closing your eyes.

“Think we threw it all up?” Steve asks from the next stall.

“Well, guess there’s only one way to find out,” you sit up, “interrogate me,” you smile.

Steve chuckles, “okay, interrogate you, sure,” there’s a pause, “when was the last time you…peed your pants?”

“Seriously Harrington? That’s what you came up with?” You take a second to think, “the last time I peed my pants was today,” you laugh.

“What?” Steve laughs too, “when?”

“When the doctor took out that bone saw, I thought we were goners.”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely still in your system. Ok your turn.”

“Ok, um, have you ever,” you hesitate to finish the sentence, pretty sure you already knew the answer, “been in love?”

Steve, however, doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Yep, Nancy, first semester, senior year,” he makes an explosion sound.

You didn’t want to know the answer to the next question, but you being you, you ask it anyways, “are you still in love with Nancy?” You ask quietly

“No.” Steve is quick to answer. A wave of relief rushes over you.

“Why not?”

“I think it’s because I found someone better for me,” You couldn’t tell if you had to throw up again or if it was just the butterflies in your stomach.

“It’s crazy, I mean I’ve known this girl my whole life. She’s incredible. First of all she’s hilarious, I am always laughing when I’m around her, and her smile, god, she has this amazing smile, and she just lights up a room when she walks in,” you felt the smile on your face grow wider and wider, “and she’s always there for me, even when I was such an asshole, she was always there. She is just an amazing person and you know, I might even be in love with her, I think I have always been in love with her, I’ve just been so blind sighted by everything but I’m not blind slighted anymore.”

You sat there, smiling, taking everything in.

“Y/n?” Steve knocks on the wall separating you two, “You OD over there?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, “No, I am still alive.”

Steve slides under the stall door.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“So what do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.”

“Well, she sounds awesome, I would love to meet her.” You smile up at Steve.

“Something tells me you two would get along great,” Steve jokes, “And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s on drugs and a part of me thinks it’s the drugs talking but another part of me really wants to believe him because this girl is…” you take a breath, “is in love with him too.”

Steve lets out a sigh of relief, his cheeks glowing a rosy color, “Well Henderson, I can guarantee you it is not the drugs.”

Steve stands up and holds his hands out for you, “C’mon, let’s take care of that pretty face.”

You had almost forgotten you got the shit kicked out of you by Russians. You hop up on the counter and Steve wets down some paper towels. He wipes off the dried up blood on your chin, you studying his face carefully. He then tried to clean up your busted lip.

“Ow!” You wince.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Steve reaches down with his other hand and grabs your own.

“Will you say it one more time?” You beg him.

“Say what?” He asks.

You smile as wide as you can with your bust lip and bat your eyelashes at him. He smiles once he catches on.

“I am in love with you Y/n Henderson.”

“I am in love with you Steve Harrington.”

You don’t even notice how close you two have gotten. Steve glances down at your lips then looks back at you. You feeling your breath hitch, oh god it’s actually going to happen. You part your lips, leaning in closer. You close your eyes preparing for the moment.

The door of the bathroom flies open. You open your eyes and glance over to the door seeing Dustin. You look at Steve and you two start laughing.

“Ok, what the hell?” Dustin looks between you and Steve, realizing what you two were about to do, “Seriously?”

Robin peeks her head in the bathroom, a smile growing on her lips, “Alright Y/n!”

“Did you two finally kiss?” Erica asks, walking into the bathroom.

“No.” You respond coldly. Steve helps you off the counter.

*    *    *

The five of you try to blend in with the crowd leaving the movie theatre, Steve still holding your hand.

“Alright now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes and home sweet home!” Dustin says.

“Uh, Dustin, we might not want to go home.” You tell him.

“Why not?”

“I may have told them our full names.”

“What? Why?” Dustin whisper yells.

“I was taking a pretty hard beating Dustin.”

“So you resist! You tough it out!”

“Yeah, ok! Sure!” You two start arguing.

“Oh shit, guys!” Robin pulls you two out of your argument. You follow her gaze and see Russians IDing everyone who’s leaving the mall.

“Oh shit.” A Russian spots you among the crowd.

“Abort! Abort!” Dustin panics. You all start running against the crowd. You look behind you and see a group of Russian’s chasing you.

“Shit, go, go, go!”

You come to the escalator, you stop and try to think, “Come on!” You urge the group as you hop a rope and slide down the escalator. Once you all make it down you head towards the food court. You all duck down behind the counter of Imperial Panda. You grip onto Steve’s hand as tight as you can. You’re all trying to catch your breath and trying to stay as quiet as you can. You can hear the stomps of the Russian’s getting closer and closer. You close your eyes.

The sound of a car alarm causes you all to jump.

You look over to Dustin, “What the fuck?” You mouth.

You peer over the counter, watching the car fly through the air and hitting all the Russians like bowling pins. Only one thing would be able to do that.

“Eleven!” You let out a sigh of relief as you look up to the second floor of the mall, seeing Eleven, Max, Lucas, Will, Nancy, and Jonathon.

You and Dustin run over to meet them, you give El and Max a big hug.

“Ok, will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Steve asks.

*   *   *

“I thought Eleven closed the gate?” Steve asks.

“She did, but the mind flayer didn’t leave.”

“So Billy is experiencing what Will experienced?” You try to make sense of all this.

“Yes, but a lot worse.” Will explains.

The group goes on explaining what is going on. You watch Eleven walk away from the group. She looks around before quickly covering her ears.

“El?” You ask.

The rest of the group now has their attention on Eleven. Her eyes start to flutter close as she starts to sway.

“El!” Mike yells. She starts to fall. You quickly run and catch her before she hits the ground.

“El!”

Taglist:

@loulouloueh​ @nighttwingg​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @labrujaprincess​ @welcomethefears​ @metuel18​ @polynesianmayo​ @readinthegarden12​ @alafolieee​ @yoheyyosup​ @loco-latte​ @daddystevee​ @hannarudick​ @gertenbert​ @70sgubler​ @used-avocado​ @ggclarissa​ @alonewolfsblog​ @phoebethepheebs​ @random-thoughts-003​ @red-2-0​ @m-blasterrr​ @blueberrylemontea-fanfic​ @mochminnie​ @lookalivesunshine-x​ 

[nalu-nalu]

Lazy Ass

author: nalu-nalu

pairing: kageyama tobio x hinata shouyou

rating: 16+ (mild swearing)

chapters: 1/?

word count: 4,707

characters: kageyama tobio, hinata shouyou, yamaguchi tadashi, yachi hitoka, ukai keishin (coach), hinata’s mom!!

tags: fluff, angst, sfw, takes place between tokyo and brazil arc, kageyama is embarrassed, hinata’s mom is my favorite, seriously she’s my favorite character i’ve ever written, more platonic than romantic

summary: following the defeat of karosuno in the spring tournament, some of the team members are worried about hinata, who hasn’t shown up in a few days, and is ignoring everyone. kageyama decides to find hinata himself. 

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409771

an: i really like this and might continue it? though maybe it should just stay as a one-shot, who knows. this is my first haikyuu fic, so be gentle plz <3 

***

It had been a week since the Spring Tournament.

A week since Karosuno had lost to Kamomedai in the quarter finals.

A week since the team boarded the bus for a final time, and drove home in complete silence.

Kageyama remembered the trip in vivid detail. The quiet sniffles in the back from the third years, trying to remain strong, and the constant fidgeting from both Nishanoya and Tanaka. Hinata was seated in the far left corner of the bus, separated from everyone else. His fever still hadn’t broken, and was ordered to sit as far away from the rest of his team as possible. Kageyama expected some sort of resistance from the ginger-haired ball of energy, but surprisingly, Hinata surrendered voluntarily. He had been far too quiet since the moment he left the court, and hadn’t said more than two words to anyone. When Yachi had quietly suggested to him that someone talk to Hinata, Kageyama had merely scoffed and walked away. There was nothing anyone could say to Hinata. His emotions were more valid than those any of his other teammates were enduring. If Hinata had stayed on the court for ten more minutes…

Kageyama shook his head free of the thought and stared at the vending machine in front of him. He stared intensely at his options. Milk or yogurt…His fingers hovered over the two options.

“Hey Kageyama…” a soft-spoken voice came from behind him.

Kageyama whirled around to face whoever had just denied him the opportunity to make his decision, only to find a concerned Yamaguchi standing behind him. Kageyama’s face softened, “Oh, hey Yamaguchi. Sorry I didn’t know it was you.” He turned back around to face the vending machine, and jabbed the two different buttons, deciding fate would make his decision today, “What’s up?”

“Well uh… I was just wondering if you’d spoken to Hinata at all.”

Kageyama knelt down and grabbed the dispensed milk carton. It was always milk. “No, why would I have.” He peeled the straw off the back and disposed of the plastic wrap, stabbing the carton with the pointy end. He brought the straw to his lips.

“Well it’s just that…” Yamaguchi shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, “He’s your friend right? Aren’t you worried about him?”

Kageyama paused, and lowered the carton, “Why would I be worried about him. We had a break this week. No practice until Monday, remember?” In reality, Kageyama had been aware of his noticeable absence the past few days. He hadn’t spotted him in the gym or in the club room. In fact, Kageyama couldn’t remember seeing Hinata anytime after getting off of the bus last week. While this seemed somewhat out of the ordinary, it wasn’t cause for any concern. None of the club members had been spending much time together after a Tokyo, and Hinata — who had taken up the brunt of he blame and placed it on himself — seemed like no exception.

“I guess he hasn’t come back to school yet. We think he’s home, either still sick or…”

“Doesn’t feel like he can face any of us.” Kageyama finished Yamaguchi’s sentence. He glanced over at the gym, which was devoid of any life. The sound of balls being hit and sneakers squeaking on the floor were absent. He sighed and turned back to face Yamaguchi, “Well I don’t know what you want me to do about it. Why don’t you just go and visit him. Or I don’t know, text him? You have his number you know.”

“Well I thought about it, but some of us were thinking that it might be a good idea if you’re the one who talk to him, being his parter on the court and all.”

Kageyama choked on his milk at the mention of being Hinata’s partner. He coughed and cleared his voice, “Just because I pass to him doesn’t make us partners. I just set it to whoever has the best chance of getting us a point.” He shrugged, “Hinata just happens to be that person some of the time.”

Yamaguchi’s eyebrows furrowed, “So you aren’t worried for him in the slightest?”

“Nope, not really. He’s probably just moping because he thinks he’s the reason we lost.” Kageyama turned and tossed his empty milk carton into the nearby trashcan.

Yamaguchi’s ears turned red, “How can you say that? You know it wasn’t Hinata’s fault!”

“I never said it was,” Kageyama replied flatly, “I just said that’s probably what he thinks.”

“So you really don’t care?”

“Nope, not it the slightest.” Kageyama waved him off as his strode back into the main building, leaving Yamaguchi at a loss for words.

But he did find himself concerned. He just couldn’t let Yamaguchi know that. Hinata would never miss a chance to practice, let alone a whole week. Sick or not, they’d usually had to drag him out of the gym kicking and screaming. A mirage of scenarios found themselves doing laps inside Kageyama’s head: Hinata was killed by the fever; Hinata was kidnapped by someone while biking to school; Hinata’s family decided to take a sporadic vacation without notifying anyone; or worse, Hinata had decided to quit volleyball.

Kageyama realized he had stopped walking, and was standing in the middle of the hallway, contemplating the different scenarios. “Fucking Yamaguchi…” He murmured to himself as he reached for the phone in his pocket, and found himself absentmindedly searching for Hinata’s number. He stepped to the side and leaned on the wall, finding Hinata’s contact information. He held the phone up to his ear, listening to the dial tone, while other students glanced at him and walked by without saying a word.

Not even a week ago, the volleyball club were the kings of the school. Everyone either wanted to be them or be with them. Now, it seemed that the members of the club were sick with the plague.

Kageyama listened to the dial tone, and when no one picked up, he listened to the voicemail, “Hey, it’s Hinata! I’m probably at practice or biking or sleeping, so sorry if I missed you! If you wanna, you can leave a message, but honestly I don’t know how to work the voicemail on this thing and-“ His voice was cut off by the beep. Kageyama considered leaving him a message, but changed his mind at the last second, quickly snapping his phone shut. He twirled it in his hands for a moment, and glanced at the clock at the end off the hall.

For a moment, he weighed his options. He could continue on with his day and forget about Hinata. This seemed like the wiser option, considering the other would be far more embarrassing; making it seem like he had legitimate emotions for someone other than himself. Not that he didn’t, he’d just rather have others believe otherwise.

But before he had made a concrete decision, he found himself walking back out of the building and into the chilly January air. Kageyama cursed under his breath and shoved his hands into his pockets, beginning his descent to the main road. He’d never been this spontaneous before, except maybe on the court. Although even then, he was still thinking ten steps ahead of everyone else.

When Coach’s store came into view, Kageyama paused. God what the fuck am I thinking. He turned to head back to the school when he thought about Hinata, either lying dead in the trunk of someone’s car, or pathetically wallowing in his own self pity. He rolled his eyes and continued heading down the path.

He wandered into Coach’s store, where Coach sat with his feet propped up on the counter, a cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth. He glanced up from the magazine he was flipping through, a look of concern flashing across his face, “Hey kid, didn’t expect to see you in here today. Something up?”

Kageyama shook his head nonchalantly, “Just came to grab a couple pork buns.”

Coach glanced at his watch and his eyes narrowed, “School get out early or something?”

“Optional early release.” Kageyama shrugged and fished for his wallet in his back pocket.

Coach chuckled, “Of course it is.” He noticed Kageyama’s wallet in his hand, “It’s on me kid, put that cash away.” He turned to grab a bag for the pork buns, “Did’ja say a couple of ‘em? You meeting up with anyone?”

“I’m a growing boy,” Kageyama replied shortly, “guess I’m just extra hungry today.”

Coach slid the bag of pork buns across the counter towards Kageyama, “Alright…” He sounded unsure, “Hey, just don’t make this a habit, okay? We don’t need you being suspended, or worse, banned from club activities.”

Kageyama gave a halfhearted nod and grabbed the bag, “Yeah, Coach. I won’t. Thanks for these.” He nodded, and headed for the door, waving at Coach before being blasted by the frigid air once he stepped outside.

Probably wasn’t the best idea to stop at Coach’s store, he thought to himself as he shivered into his jacket. Continuing the down the path, Kageyama reached for his phone with his free hand, checking for any messages, specifically a reply from Hinata. Nothing. Not that he was surprised.

“Now that I’m going soft, might as well…” he muttered under his breath as his contemplated giving Hinata a second call. The phone rang three times before sending Kageyama to voicemail, “Hey, it’s Hinata! I’m probably at - ” Kageyama flipped his phone shut and stood at the bottom of the large hill Hinata biked up and down daily. What a fucking tryhard, he scoffed as he began he trek up the hill.

Once he reached the top, he was completely out of breath. Panting, he suddenly wished he had bought a water while stopped at Coach’s. He slowly began his descent, thoroughly winded, and somewhat impressed that Hinata managed this journey not once, but twice a day.

Despite being the best workout Kageyama had received all week, and his newly increased lung capacity, he swore to never climb up that hill again, and vowed to take the bus home. He stood at the bottom of the hill with his hands held behind his head, trying to catch a breath, and hoping the pounding muscles in his legs would sooth soon. He paused, and realized that he only had a vague idea of where Hinata lived. He remembered something about Hinata living near a park, and his block number being relatively low, but he lacked the information necessary to find his place from his current position.

Kageyama swore under his breath and took a seat on a bench to his right. He looked at the sky momentarily, taking notice of the slow, but prominent movements of the clouds, as they seemed to swirl around each other. He sighed, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Now who can I call without being thoroughly judged… He wondered. He scrolled through his contact list, pausing every once in a while to consider the consequences of contacting one person over another, before finally spotting a name that he’d been looking for. He called up the number, hoping they would pick up.

One dial tone, two dial tone, three dial tone. Kageyama was losing hope quickly, and coming to the realization that this was the dumbest thing he had ever done, when the phone clicked and Yachi’s voice came through the speaker, “Hello?” She whispered softly.

Fuck. She must be in the middle of class, “Uh, hey Yachi. I didn’t mean to disturb you or anything, it’s just - ”

“What’s wrong?” Yachi interrupted abruptly, “You’ve never called me before. I didn’t even know you had my number saved. I saw you calling and immediately excused myself to the restroom. Now what’s wrong?”

“Why does anything have to be wrong in order for me to call you?” Kageyama countered bitterly, “What if I just wanted to say hi?”

“Haha, very funny. Tell me what’s going on.”

He took a deep breath, “You can’t tell anyone okay?” He took the silence on the other end of the phone as an acknowledgement, and he continued, “Yamaguchi came up to me at lunch today

and - ”

“You talked to Yamaguchi?” She interrupted again.

“Well yeah and - ”

“I can’t believe he actually went through with it… We talked about it, but no one ever actually agreed to approach you…”

“Who is this ‘we’ everyone keeps talking about?” Kageyama questioned angrily, “Why is everyone talking about me behind my back?”

“No no,” Her voice dropped, possibly trying to avoid being heard by anyone else, “we were just worried about Hinata and well, you seemed like the only person that he respects enough to - ”

“Well congrats, Yamaguchi guilt tripped me into it.” He cut her off. “Now do you know where he lives or not?”

Yachi’s end of the line went silent for a moment, and Kageyama could almost hear the smirk on the other end of the line, “Yeah.” She relayed the information to Kageyama, and he mentally took note of her instructions.

“Hey can you just, not tell anyone about this?” Kageyama unceremoniously pleaded.

“Yeah sure, but will you tell me what he says? He hasn’t talked to me either and… well I’m just really worried about him.”

Kageyama nodded, “Yeah, sure. That is if he even wants to see me.” He paused, “Thanks for the uh, help, I guess…” He sheepishly and bitterly acknowledge, and said a quick goodbye before snapping his phone shut.

He stood, the searing pain in his legs already dying down after his odyssey over the hill. Yachi’s instructions were at the forefront of his mind and he walked the path that Hinata biked everyday.

“Walk along the main road for a while, and then take a right at the intersection where you see the big cherry blossom tree with a wooden swing. Then, take a left at the yellow house with lots of flowers. If you keep walking down that road, there’s a dead end sign, so just follow that, and Hinata’s house is the last one on the street.”

Kageyama paused, and stared up at the aforementioned house in front of him. What the fuck am I doing, this is so stupid. He took a step forward, then another, until he reached the front door of the medium sized light blue house. He raised his closed fist, and knocked softly, praying that no one would hear, or that no one was home.

His delusion however, was thwarted when a short, stout blonde woman opened the door almost immediately. She was a good foot shorter than Kageyama, who seemed to tower over her menacingly. He slouched his shoulders, in an attempt to make himself seem smaller. The woman’s facial features were soft, and round, and her hair was cut short. Upon first glance, she didn’t appear to resemble Hinata in the slightest, but upon closer inspection, Kageyama realized that they seemed to shared the same light brown eyes.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly, “can I help you?”

“Um…” Kageyama sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, “is Hina - I mean, is Shouyou here?”

The women’s light eyes darkened, and she gave Kageyama a once over, “Shouyou hasn’t been feeling too well the last couple of days.” Her eyebrows furrowed, but her eyes softened a bit, “Wait a minute, you must be Kageyama.”

“Uh, yes ma’am - ” He felt his arm pulled as Hinata’s mother dragged him into the house. She gave him a light shove into the kitchen as she closed the door behind them.

“I have heard so much about you Kageyama!” She began rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out plates and cups, “Shouyou will just go on and on about how wonderful you are.” She paused and looked thoughtfully into space, “Although I do remember a time where he wasn’t quite as fond of you… Something about, a middle school game?” She waved her hand and filled one of the glasses up with orange juice, “Would you like orange juice sweetie? We also have water or milk, I could make you some tea as well - ”

“Um,” Kageyama cleared his throat, the throng of information he had received from Hinata’s mother overwhelming him. “juice is fine I suppose.”

Hinata’s mother smiled, and poured the juice into a second glass as well. “Now Shouyou tells me that you’re one of the best setters he’s ever seen. Said you were even invited to a fancy training camp in Tokyo for the best of the best, is that right?” She pulled fruits and veggies from the fridge, and began to create a platter.

“Uh, yes ma’am.” Kageyama shifted his weight awkwardly, his cheeks and ears reddening.

“Oh no need to call me ma’am sweetie, just call me Machi, or Obāsan.” She grinned and continued preparing the platter in front of her. “You can take your shoes off as well if you’d like! Just set them down over there by the others! Set your bag down too! There’s slippers as well if that’s something you like!”

“Oh, uh, thanks ma’am - I mean Machi.” Kageyama slipped his shoes off and grabbed them by the heels, setting them next to the plethora of other shoes stacked near the door. He set his bag down next to them, but kept the pork buns clutched in his hand.

“I wish I could’ve seen you boys play in one of the tournaments, but Shouyou made me promise not to come, said something about me embarrassing him.” She waved her hand, “Ah but that’s silly, I would never embarrass him. Now Natsu on the other hand, well she could do some damage.” She pulled a large tray out from under the counter, and placed the glasses and the platter of fruits and vegetables on top. She carefully held the tray out to Kageyama, “Shouyou’s room is up the stairs and to the right, and the rest in right across from him. Make sure he doesn’t only eat the fruit, he needs some vegetables as well.”

Kageyama gingerly took the tray from Machi, careful as to not spill the glasses full to the brim with juice. He set the bag of pork buns on top, and hesitated momentarily, “Thank you, Machi.” He thanked her uncomfortably.

“Of course sweetie!” Machi stared up at him, a sudden look of concern in her eyes, “Shouyou hasn’t been in a mood to talk, but maybe you can try to convince him to go back to school soon? I worry about all of the lessons he’s missing, not to mention the ramifications from the vice principal. I would hate if Shouyou somehow ended up on his bad side.” Her look of concern transformed into one of hope, “I bet if anyone can get through to Shouyou, it’s you! He really looks up to you, you know.” She smiled warmly at Kageyama, her face closely resembling Hinata’s, before turning around and beginning to clean up the food she had taken out, “Just holler if you boy’s need anything. I’ll be here!”

Kageyama was frozen in place, trying to comprehend the overload of information that had just been shoved down his throat. He did his best to smile, although he was sure he looked more menacing than thankful, and turned around to climb the set of stairs leading from the kitchen. He carefully held the tray steadily, thankful for the years of hand training he had, and slowly ascended the wooden staircase.

Once he reached the second level, he turned to his right. The door was shut, and decorated with small dinosaur stickers that were beginning to peel off. Kageyama smirked, hoping these stickers were a recent addition and not some left over child memorabilia. He balanced the try with one hand, while prepping himself to knock on the door. His hand was curled into a fist, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually knock. God this was such a stupid fucking idea. But before he could stop himself, his fist beat three times against the door.

He heard a groan coming from the other side, authorizing Kageyama to enter. He turned the handle and enter Hinata’s room.

Hinata’s room looked exactly like Kageyama had imagined it, not that he had actually imagined it before. The walls were plastered with professional volleyball team’s posters, with the two posters Yachi had designed hanging above his bed. His desk was empty, except for the bottles of empty sports drinks littered atop of it. The closet was wide open, showcasing what looked like an explosion of clothing, with every drawer open, and seemingly every piece of clothing pulled out, including his underwear. Kageyama found himself blushing and looked away. Hinata’s duffle was sat next to his bed. It was half open, and Kageyama could see that it clearly hadn’t been cleaned out since Tokyo, spotting Hinata’s uniform, and shoes hastily shoved inside.

Hinata was curled up in his bed, facing the wall. It wasn’t too cold in the house, but he was bundled up completely in blankets. The only movements he seemed to be making was the rise and fall of this body, and indication that he was still breathing.

Phew, well now I know he’s not dead.

“What is it ma. I already told you, I’m not hungry.” The lump on the bed mumbled.

Kageyama awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to find an object to look at that wouldn’t seem weird if Hinata caught him.

After an odd moment of silence, Hinata turned around slowly. His signature ginger hair was sticking up in odd directions, and seemed to be in need of a thorough washing. He had deep bags under his eyes, and his cheek bones seemed more pronounced than usual. In fact, his whole face had a skeletal sort of look. His eyes — which Kageyama had entirely determined to be the same as his mother’s — were sunken in to his face, and seemed to be more dull and lifeless than usual.

Kageyama cocked his head and stared at Hinata, who had just come to the realization that Kageyama was actually in his bedroom. Upon said realization, Hinata threw his covers off and quickly threw the piles of clothing spilling out on to the floor back into the dresser’s drawers, and shut the closet door. He kicked his duffle under the bed and grabbed the sweatpants hanging on the back of his desk’s chair. He quickly pulled them on, to Kageyama’s relief, as he had only been wearing boxers, and the shirt that he had purchased at the Spring Tournament.

Hinata, red in the face, quickly blurted, “What are you doing here?”

Kageyama shrugged cooly, “Dunno. Heard you were being quite a baby, holing yourself up in your room and refusing to go to school.”

Hinata furrowed his brows, “Who told you that? My mom?”

Kageyama moved the empty bottles of sports drink to one side of the desk, and set the tray down on the other, “Nope. You just did.”

Hinata found himself at a loss for words, flustered and confused, “Okay, but what are you doing here.”

Pulling the desk chair out, Kageyama took a seat and grabbed a carrot from the tray, taking a bite out of it. He chewed and swallowed, paused, and gave Hinata a pointed look, “Everyone’s saying that you’re ignoring them. Thought you could be dead.” Another shrug, “Forced me here, saying that I’m the only one to motivate you to get your lazy ass out of the house and back on the court.” He popped the rest of the carrot into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully, “But honestly, now that I’m here,” he gave Hinata a once over, “I can see you are perfectly happy isolating yourself from the rest of the world.”

Kageyama grabbed the bag of pork buns from the tray and tossed them to Hinata, “From Coach,” he muttered, “he thought they might cheer you up I guess. They probably aren’t warm anymore though, so I’m not sure how appetizing they’d be.”

Hinata opened the bag and inhaled the intoxicating smell, greedily stuffing his hand inside and pulling out a room temperature pork bun, and taking a large bite out of it. He smiled while chewing, before remembering who else was in the room with him, and put a scowl on his face.

After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Kageyama finally broke, “So are you coming to school Monday or not.”

Hinata looked down at his feet as he continued to chew on his pork bun.

“I mean,” Kageyama continued, “I’m sure if you decided not to come to practice, we could replace you with someone else. Yamaguchi is tall enough to be a decent middle blocker, or maybe we’ll get a talented group of first years that could take your place…”

“No!” Hinata exclaimed, standing up abruptly, “You can’t replace me!”

“Sure we can,” Kageyama grabbed a second carrot, “anyone can be a decoy.”

“But -” Hinata started.

“Anyone who thinks that their problems are bigger than the team doesn’t belong on a team anyways.” Kageyama cruelly taunted, “I mean, do you really think we lost in Tokyo because you’re the best player on the team? Do you think that without you, our team is terrible? Because honestly,” Kageyama shrugged, “you’re one of the worst players on the team. Just because you can get from one place to another quickly, doesn’t mean you’re any good.” He sighed and toyed with the carrot in his hand, “We lost because the other team was better than us. Plain and simple.” Kageyama stood and stretched his arms upwards, “If you’re really gonna act like this any time another team is better than us, then maybe you shouldn’t stay in the club. We don’t need whiners bringing the rest of the team down.” He walked back to the doorway, and stood for a moment, hoping that being harsh with Hinata was the right move.

As usual, he was right. Hinata grabbed Kageyama’s arm and turned him around, “I’ll be there on Monday,” he said, determined, “and I’ll kick your ass in practice.”

Kageyama snorted, and challenged Hinata with his eyes, “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” He yanked his arm out of Hinata’s grip and grabbed the door handle, pulling it shut as he walked away, “Oh,” he paused before the door was completely shut, “don’t tell anyone I was here today. I don’t need my reputation hurt.”

“But I thought you said that - ” The door was pulled shut in Hinata’s face before he could finish his thought. He sat down softly on his bed and smiled to himself, before pulling a second pork bun from the back and taking a massive bite out of it.

Kageyama made his way back downstairs and into the kitchen, where Machi was impatiently waiting, pretending to wipe down the already impeccably clean counters. She pretended to be surprised when she saw Kageyama approach.

“Oh! Done so soon? I hope Shouyou was playing nice, he can get a bit rowdy…”

Kageyama gave her his most realistic looking smile, and thanked her for the hospitality, “I really do have to go though, but mother wouldn’t be too happy if I wasn’t home in time for dinner.”

Machi smiled back, before her look turned to that of concern again, “Do you think that…Shouyou will go back to school on Monday?”

Kageyama slipped his shoes back on and grabbed his bag from beside the door, “I don’t think there’s any doubt.” He thanked Machi again, and exited through the front door.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally exposed to the fresh air again. Hoping he’d never have to do something that embarrassing ever again. He stepped off of the sidewalk, but paused when he remembered he had no clue where the nearest bus stop was. He smacked his forehead and recoiled into himself, realizing what the quickest solution was.

He awkwardly walked back up the steps to the front door, and knocked for a second time that day. Machi appeared almost instantaneously, looking puzzled.

“Sorry to uh, bother you again, but could you tell me how to get to the nearest bus stop?”

[obsidiancreates]

Old Writing Part Two: Electric Boogaloo

Yeah so uh here’s the “Fandom School” one.

This one has not been seen by even myself since like... October of 2016.

Oh jeez. That’s so long ago. Fuck time.

So this is... the whole story. Each Chapter was super short, the first three are under 400 words, so I just stuck ‘em all in here.

This one... is from 12 year old Sid. Yup. Little baby Sid. 

It is bad. I’m warning you now. But perhaps, entertaining. At the very least, a good example of being able to grow and improve with enough practice.

Chapter One: Fangirlish

Abby shouted as she hit the floor. Her brother came running in, a look of worry on his face.

"What was that thud?" he asked.

"I laughed to hard while watching Venturiantale and fell off the bed."

Her brother face-palmed.

"Come on, Jeremy. Don't face-palm. They're funny!" Abby said with a grin.

"They're all you think about! You really need to stop obsessing. "

Abby gasped and looked at him like he just asked her to eat a smelly boot. "How could you say such a thing! Plus, they're not all that I think about. I also think about Doctor Who, and Star Wars, and Tolkien stuff, and Percy Jackson, and My Little Pony, and Monster High, and Warriors. "

Jeremy sighed. "Those are all....what do you call them? Fandoms?"

"Indeed. However, I am obsessed with them because they are beautiful. They are fabulous in ways you do not understand, mortal. Be gone!" Abby cried. She grabbed the ballpoint pen she took with her everywhere and uncapped it. "Be gone, or else you shall face the wrath if Riptide! Wait, Riptide can't harm mortals."

Jeremy sighed again and left the room, muttering about Abby being weird.

Abby went back to her video, laughing her butt off. After she finished it she went and read some Percy Jackson fanfiction. She was deeply absorbed in a very interesting fanfic when her alarm went off. It was time. She got up off her bed and went over to her desk.

She sat down and took out her notebook. She put on some music, written by Venturian of course, and began writing. She was writing a fanfic about Doctor Who.

"Abby, there's someone here to see you!" her mom shouted. Abby sighed, but went downstairs anyway.

She entered the living room to find a girl around her age sitting on the couch. She had blond hair with blue streaks and green eyes. She was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fandom U' on it.

"Hello Abby, "she said with a grin, "I hear you're quite the fangirl."

Chapter Two: A Fellow Fan

Abby was a little creeped out. Who wouldn't be if a girl you had never met before was sitting in your living room saying she had heard about you?

The girl seemed to notice that Abby was weirded out, and spoke again. "My name is Bell, by the way."

"Bell? Who names their kid Bell?"

Bell laughed. "My mom's favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast. Anyway, you're a fangirl, are you not?"

"Yeah, kinda. And by kinda, I mean totally." Abby said. She was still a bit creeped out, but Bell seemed friendly enough. "Why do you ask? More importantly, how the heck did you hear about me? That's kinda creepy, considering this is the first time I've ever seen you."

Bell smirked. "So you're asking to know my secret?" She said the last part in a creepy voice.

"Wait, you watch Venturiantale? Awesome! But, could you at least answer my first question?"

Instead of responding, Bell handed Abby a piece of paper. It looked like a letter you would get from school. "Here, read this. If you decide you want to attend, just call the number at the bottom of the page." With that Bell left, humming a tune Abby recognized as the theme of Rohan.

She went back up to her room with the paper and began reading it. At the top it said, in big, bolded letters, Fandom U.

That's what Bell's shirt said.

As she read the paper her eyes  widened.

Dear Whom It May Concern It has come to our attention that you are a massive fangirl. We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into Fandom U. All supplies we be provided upon arrival, should you choose to attend. Please note that some fangirls can be dangerous if you speak negatively about their fandom, and the school is not responsible for any injuries should you be insensitive enough to do so.

Sincerely, The faculty of Fandom U

Excitement came over Abby. "I'm going to Fandom U!" she screamed happily.

Chapter 3: Belonging

A few weeks later, Abby was all packed and ready to go. She had called the school and arranged everything. She was sitting at the bus stop, waiting for her transportation. She bounced her leg up and down, a nervous habit of hers. Finally a bus labeled 'Fandom U' arrived. The doors to the bus opened, and Abby couldn't help but stare at the driver.

"Well, get in!" the driver said through his mask. He was dressed in a full on Stormtrooper cosplay. As Abby stepped onto the bus, she wondered how he wasn't being baked alive in the heat.

She discovered that each row represented a different fandom. She took a seat in the Doctor Who section because it, somehow, had more room then the other sections. The bus started up, making the same sounds the T.A.R.D.I.S makes. Abby stared out at her hometown, feeling excitement  at what lay before her. She leaned back in her seat, humming fandom songs. Normally people would look at her like she was crazy, but instead everyone joined in, humming with her.

She had found where she belonged, and she loved it. The whole bus ride was filled with fan theories, discussions about characters, and tons of references. It was the most fun Abby ever had!

After what seemed like only minutes, they had arrived. Abby looked up at the building in front of her in awe.

It was enormous, like a castle. Above the door there was a huge sign reading 'Welcome to Fandom U!'. The building was shaped in an unusual way. So unusual that Abby wasn't even sure what shape it was. The outer walls were painted with so many fandom symbols that Abby had a hard time seeing anything else.

"Abby!" a voice called. Abby turned around to see Bell running towards her. "Abby, great news! They made me your escort!"

"Escort?"

"Well, yeah. It's a huge school. Plus it's your first day. I'm here to show you around!" Bell said.

She looked at Abby's face, which was still a face of awe. Bell grinned and said "Abby, welcome to Fandom U!"

Chapter 4: Orientation

"This place is amazing!" Abby said. She looked over at Bell, who seemed just as excited as Abby felt.

"Wait until you see the inside," Bell said. She started walking and motioned for Abby to follow. Abby grinned and walked with her into the school.

The inside was more amazing than the outside. The entrance was decorated with hundreds of pieces of fandom merch from hundreds of different fandoms. Abby noticed a T.A.R.D.I.S replica, a statue of a cave troll from The Lord of the Rings, a replica of Luke Castilian's sword Backbiter, and what appeared to be a statue of Papa Achachalla.

As she and Bell continued to wherever they were headed, Abby took in everything she could. The halls were each themed around a different fandom. There was a Doctor Who hall styled like the inside of a Dalek spacecraft, a Narnia hall styled like the Pevensy's castle, a Lord of the Rings hall styled like the halls of Rivendell, and a Venturiantale hall decorated with the channel's colors and each of the siblings emblems, among many others.

The classroom doors were all shut, so Abby didn't get the chance to see inside. She followed Bell to a large room resembling a theater.

"Welcome to the auditorium! This is where all the assemblies are held, as well as the school plays!" Bell said. She led Abby over to the very middle row and took a seat. She motioned for Abby to sit next to her, which is just what Abby did.

"This room is huge! How many students are there?" Abby asked.

"I'm not sure. A few hundred, maybe. Possibly more," Bell answered. "Oh, orientation's starting! We better stop talking. "

All the other students had sat down while they were talking. They all went quiet as a lady walked up on stage. "Greetings, students! I am Miss Silnet, your headmistress," she announced. Abby was shocked. The lady definitely wasn't dressed like a headmistress. She wore a camp Half-blood t-shirt underneath a black sweatshirt, a pair of jeans with fandom references doodled all over them, and a pair of plain red sneakers. Her ginger hair was pulled into a loose braid with bits of silver weaved in. She couldn't have been older than thirty, yet was still clearly a fangirl.

"Welcome to Fandom U! I'm sure some of you new students are curious as to what the U stands for. Most people think it means university. However, a university is a collage, and here all ages of fans are welcome. The U in fact stands for United. We are all united under our love of our fandoms! Join me as I say the school's pledge," she said. She put her hand on her heart and began the pledge, with many returning students saying it with her.

To be obsessed For all our lives, To value the next part Over the next school test. To love those who do not love back, To stalk them on the Internet. To unite as one Under the fandom sun.

Abby looked around her, thinking about how all these people had similar interests, habits, preferences, possibly even crushes as her. She realized that they truly were united in their love of fandoms. She could tell this was going to be her best school year ever.

Chapter 5: Classes

After orientation Bell lead Abby to her dorm. The room had two beds, two dressers, two closets, two trashcans, two desks, two bookshelves, and, to Abby's surprise, two TVs. There was a dark blue couch in front of each TV, the bedding was purple on both beds, and at each desk there was a chair made of oak with dark green built-in cushions. There was a large window in the middle of the wall leading outside, with a view of the huge field behind the school. In front of the window was a kitchen, complete with all the cooking utensils you could ever need. On both sides of the room there was a private bathroom with a shower, sink, medicine cabinet, mirror, and, of course, toilet.

"This room is amazing!" Abby marveled.

"It gets better. Guess who your dorm mate is. Me!" Bell said. Abby  was very happy to hear that. Despite having only known Bell for a short time, the two seemed to be best friends. Plus, Bell was the only person Abby actually knew!

Abby then noticed the large boxes sitting by the desks. They were labeled School Supplies.

"So, which side do you want?" Abby asked Bell.

"Hm. The right side, I think."

"Okay!" Abby said. She set down her luggage, which she had been hauling around all day, on her bed. She walked over to her desk and opened the box.

Inside was everything a fangirl could need. There was a laptop, about a dozen brand new books, some notebooks, some pencils, some pens, a spare phone charger for both Apple and Android brands, a charger for the laptop, an extra pillow in case of a feels attack, a sketchbook for fanart, colored pencils, and many course books for class.

She closed the box, not feeling like unpacking it. Her eyes fell on some paper on her desk. She picked it up and asked Bell, "What's this?"

"It's a list of all the different classes you can take. In this school you get to choose all your own classes! What you do is pick your five main fandoms, then pick two classes per fandom. Later one of the teachers will come to collect it. They enter it into a computer, which then devises a schedule," Bell explained.

"Oh. Thanks!" Abby said. She turned her attention back to the paper. On the first page were five spots to write her fandoms. She thought for awhile, then chose Doctor Who, Percy Jackson, Venturiantale, Star Wars, and Warriors.

She turned to the next page, which had a list of the different classes for each fandom. She read over all the options, then chose the ones that interested her most.

Abby's choices:

Venturiantale: Tale Fighting, the class where you learn to fight like the Tale characters, and Lore 101, the study and attempt to make sense of VT lore.

Percy Jackson: Demigod Combat, the class where you learn how to fight like a Demigod, and Camp Cooking, the class of learning to cook the meals they eat at camp.

Doctor Who: A Study of Time, the class on understanding how time works, and Regeneration History, the study of the Doctor's personal history.

Warriors: Knowing Your Herbs, the class on healing methods the clans use, and Warriors Speak 101, the study of Warriors phrases and words.

Star Wars: Understanding the Force, the study of what the Force is as well as how it is used, and Dark vs Light, a debate class studying the pros and cons of each side in an attempt to find out which one is truly better.

Abby finished filling out the paper and looked over at Bell, who appeared to be doing the same.

Abby and Bell spent the rest of the night unpacking. Abby discovered that the closest was filled with fandom clothes, as well as the dresser. "How did they know my size?" she asked, a tad creeped out.

"Your mom had to put it on your admission papers."

"Oh."

Just before Abby went to bed there was a knock at the door. The teacher had come by to collect the class papers. After the girls had handed them over they got into bed. Bell seemed to fall asleep pretty quick, but Abby stayed up for hours,unable to sleep at the anticipation of the next day.

And then I never wrote Chapter Six. I guess she overslept, huh? Heh.

[mendespideys]

the intern ▿ pt. II

Summary: you’re finishing your last year of university in london, and what better way do to that than with an internship at holland and osterfield’s? 

Warnings: mention of sex, some embarrassment? i think that’s it

Words: 1.7k+

a/n: i’m sorry this took awhile. i’m also sorry it’s short and really bad. i promise it will get better with the next chapter 

series masterlist

< previous | next >

Balancing the three cups of steaming Earl Grey, you enter through the same revolving doors you had entered through three days prior. As you do so, the clicking of high heels against tile and constant murmur of people talking greets you. This time, you are early enough to admire the beautiful architecture of the big hall. 

The foyer is modern, and it is easy to understand that the two heads of the company are on the younger side. The same young woman is seated behind the welcome desk, but she doesn’t smile at you this time, focusing her eyes on the screen in front of her. 

You head toward the elevator, deciding that would be the safest route to the fourth story with three cups of hot tea in your hands. The metal doors slide apart, and you step inside not having time to push the designated button before you hear someone call out to hold the elevator. 

Harrison Osterfield slips inside just as the door closes. You only know it’s him because you recognize him from the pictures you had found online. After your quite humiliating interview with Tom on Friday, you had gone straight home to Google the two men behind the success. You found more information than you bargained for. 

“What floor?” 

You look up, not realizing you had been lost in your thoughts. “Oh, uh, fourth, please,” you mumble, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. 

“Hey, you’re Ms. Y/L/N, right? I’m Harrison Osterfield,” he extends his hand, biting his bottom lip when he realizes your hands are full. “Tom told me all about you.” 

Your eyes widen involuntarily. What had Tom told him? Did he know you and Tom had slept together the night before your interview? You inwardly scold yourself, already feeling your cheeks heat up. You nod to confirm his assumption. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Osterfield. I hope he only told you the good things,” you smile, composing yourself. “Here. I brought you a tea. I wasn’t sure how you liked it, so I left it plain.” 

Harrison grins, happily taking one of the teas from the tray on your hand. He brings it closer to his face, inhaling the steam escaping through the lid. You follow his movements closely without realizing. His captivating blue eyes meet yours, and you can’t make yourself look away. 

“Mm,” he hums, his lips curving into a smirk. “Earl Grey. My favorite.” 

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open with a ding. Harrison holds his arm out, motioning for you to exit first. With a grateful smile, you walk out, your heels clicking against the grey ceramic tiles. He follows you out, telling you to walk with him. You comply. 

“Your company is very impressive, Mr. Osterfield,” you compliment, struggling to keep up with the man’s long strides. 

“Please, call me Harrison. I know I’m getting older, but I’m not that old,” Harrison shoots you a smile and you can’t help but laugh. “I’m the one who’s impressed. I took a look at your portfolio and the classes you’ve taken over the weekend.”

You glance over at him and he’s already looking at you when you do. Biting your lip, you look down at your black heels, pretending to focus on where you’re stepping. You can feel the unwelcome heat spread across your cheeks, and you curse yourself for being so easily affected. 

“Thank you,” you catch yourself, a small giggle escaping you before you can stop it. “Harrison.” 

The two of you enter a larger room with five or maybe six desks, you didn’t have time to count them, too busy taking in the atmosphere. You follow Harrison toward a plain white desk against a wall. The desk faces the window and as you look outside, you realize once again how beautiful London truly is. 

“Well,” Harrison begins, raising his eyebrows. “Get comfortable, I suppose. You’ll be spending a lot of time here.”

“What do you- wait, this is mine?” 

He just nods, his lips pulling back and exposing his pearly white teeth as he smiles. Gently setting the cardboard to-go tray down on the desk, you look around your new workspace for the next six months. Maybe working here isn’t going to be so bad after all?

“One of the best views of London,” Harrison notes, watching you admire the view once again. “Of course, this has nothing against-”

“Tom’s office, I know,” you interject, catching yourself too late. “I-I mean, Mr. Holland’s office. I noticed the breathtaking view on Friday.” 

You notice a smirk growing on his lips, but he composes himself and nods with a gentle smile. It dawns on you then that they both enjoy teasing others, and you understand why they are best friends in the first place. Another picture from Google pops into your head suddenly, one of Tom and Harrison together at a club, and you quickly shake your head to make it disappear.

“Yeah, Tom’s office is pretty neat,” Harrison affirms, his eyes meeting yours once again momentarily. “He’s not here today though. Has a few meetings. I best be off. I’m expecting a call in ten minutes. If you need anything, my office is down the hall from Tom’s and to the left.”

Then, he’s gone. You plop down in the white leather chair with a sigh, staring at the faint steam escaping the two remaining cups. Well, that had been a waste of money. Harrison, at least, seemed to appreciate the gesture. Opening your laptop bag, you pull out your Macbook, setting it on the desk. It isn’t until after you have logged in with the information they had sent you that you realize you have no clue what you’re supposed to be doing. 

You contemplate your options briefly; you try to figure it out by yourself or you go to Harrison’s office to ask. You’re halfway out of your chair when your laptop beeps, signaling a new e-mail. Sitting back down, you click on the notification bubble and wait for the e-mail to load. You ignore the slight increase in your heartbeat when you notice it’s from Harrison. Realizing it’s a list of tasks, you decide to get right on it, desperate to get away from your inappropriate thoughts. 

Three hours later, you’re standing outside of the building with your phone in your hand. One of the many attractive women working with the company had informed you that it was your turn to take lunch. You take a sip of the cold tea in your hand, having been too busy to enjoy it while it was hot.

“Cece, I swear, they’re both inhumanely attractive. I get flustered just at the thought of them.”

Your best friend Cecilia hums teasingly at the other end of the receiver, and you know she’s smirking. The two of you had never met until the first day you moved into your apartment. After finding her post online about needing a roommate, you e-mailed her and the two of you quickly came to an agreement. When you knocked on the door on your first day in London, the rest was history. 

“I still can’t believe you slept with him. Out of all the men in the bar that night, he was the one you went home with.”

“Yes, I know. Just my fucking luck. I slept with my boss the day before my interview. Tom’s not even here today. I even brought him tea-”

“You brought me tea?” 

Cecilia gasps loudly at the other end, having heard the question too. You whip around, too quickly it seems, because your fingers slip, the cup of tea falling and splattering on the ground. Tom’s lips curve into a smirk, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He removes them, cocking an eyebrow.

“I-I- Harrison, I mean, Mr. Osterfield told me you weren’t going to be here today,” you excuse weakly, inwardly scolding yourself as you hear your best friend’s faint giggle crackle through the phone. 

“I wasn’t,” Tom confirms, reaching up and effortlessly pulling the brown sunglasses off his face. “My meeting finished early. Besides, I figured it was best to check in on our new intern.” 

He smiles at you, almost innocently, and you swallow the frustration growing within you, figuring out it’s best not to yell at your boss on your first day of work. You merely nod, staring at the wet stain the spilled tea had left on the asphalt. 

Momentarily, the pictures you had seen while doing research pop into your head. You ignore the twinge of jealousy that comes with the various pictures of Tom with different women on his arm. There had been too many to count, and you had quickly ended your search. 

“Well, I’m fine,” you state sharply. “Actually, I better get back to work. Harrison has a few more things he needs me to do.” 

You bend down, not caring about your skirt riding up to expose more skin. Picking up the cup from the floor, you toss it into the nearby trashcan, not sparing Tom another look as you head toward the entrance. 

“Harrison, huh?” Tom’s voice comes out from behind you, slowing your movements. “Since when are you on a first name basis with my best mate?”

Turning around, you meet his eyes. He had put his sunglasses back on, but you know he’s looking at you through the lenses. Silently, you curse the universe for being so cruel toward you. It’s not enough to work with the guy had a spent a wild night with, he also enjoyed teasing you about it. 

“Since your best mate told me to,” you reply, turning back around and entering the building. 

As you trudge through the crowd of people, you briefly consider acquiring a new internship. It is only your first day after all. You quickly throw the thought away, knowing how unrealistic it is, but you desperately need to think of something other than the underlying tone of jealousy in Tom’s voice. 

He had no right to be jealous. The two of you had shared one night together, although it had been a night you won’t forget anytime soon, it was still just that; one night. You aren’t his and he isn’t yours. In any other situation, you know his envy would be flattering. 

It isn’t until you reach the elevator and reach out to press the button marked four that you realize you’re still on the phone with Cecelia. You slowly bring it up to your ear, hearing her call out your name questioningly. 

“These six months will be the death of me,” you inform her, watching as the silver doors close in front of you. “We’re going to the club on Friday.”

tagging people who told me they liked it: @chamilsanya  @spiderbiteholland @curlytoms @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel @obsesivesun @hollandcentral

[purintarts]

Mr & Mrs Choi (Part 3)

Here is PART 3!

Click here for Part 2

You kissed Luciel good bye before he got into the car with his co-worker, Mary. It was a weird name for a guy but you weren’t going to complain, maybe his parents wanted a girl but ended up with a boy or maybe he’s just transgender. Whatever it is, it wasn’t your business.

As you waved your husband goodbye before closing the door. Freedom from your husband, free time for you to get down to business. You ran up to your bedroom and set up your devices, turning the screen to Kim Jason. There were no notification last night and neither did anyone come or go.

You left the devices on to themselves as you change your clothes into something easier for you to move around. You had a feeling this Kim Jason would come today, so you laid your weapons and gadgets out, waiting to strike.

Just as you had put on your shirt, you heard voices coming from your device and you quickly ran to it. However, the voice sounds familiar, pretty familiar.

You checked the camera and unfortunately, a car had blocked the view of the people. You cursed under your breath but then a person went to the mailbox and took out all the letter and newspaper. You zoomed in the camera, it wasn’t clear due to the definition of the camera but the clothes might be different but the face, hair and glasses.

It can’t be.

“You need to tell your wife that it might take longer, this is no walk in the park”

“If it comes down to it, I’ll tell MC later”

You face turned pale.

Maybe this Kim Jason is his co-worker? Maybe they were visiting him- yes. But he’s not home, maybe he will call him-

“Already have a plan?”

“Pretty much. Just gotta get my stuff and we can go”

“You better do this quick Seven”

Seven?

A lot of shuffling was heard before the newspaper was dumped into the trashcan, throwing off your microphone along. You cursed but then the other person- that was Mary alright and it was the same car that arrived just now, the so-called Mary got into the car before leaving off first and there he was.

Your husband.

He unlocked the doors and went in.

You sat on the bed dumbfounded. Not sure whether to prove that it was true or false but then again, you too were an agent. Looking at the devices, you shut them down. Throwing everything in a large totebag, you set off.

You got some work to do.

   Seven went down to the basement, grabbing his guns, grenades and any weapon that he thought that he would need to be put in use. Slinging the backpack on his shoulder, he walked up towards his opened laptop.

He had just searched the CCTV and footage for Kitty from the description. The searched was complete and he quickly scrolled through the results.

“Cat ear-cuffs? How the hell am I going to find cat ear-cuffs? Urgh, he’s useless” Seven grumbled as he scroll down, checking the tabs for any pictures.

Then there was one. A lady in a dress with fitting description and a cat ear-cuff. The lady was with a man when the picture was taken.

Seven felt his blood run cold as the blood on his face was drained. He zoomed into the picture and it was truly a cat ear-cuff, no denying. The man was him and the lady was-

“No way!” he pulled his hands away “MC is Kitty? She can barely walk 5 meters in heels, how could she be an agent?” he laughed as he brushed his fringe back.

However, his fingers were back on the keyboard and he searched with the picture, finding any similar pictures or pictures of her. There were a lot of pictures, pictures with him, pictures of her at the grocery store and her off to work.

However, the pictures as she got off from her work building, there was the cat ear-cuff again. The weird thing was, there pictures from outside her office was from the CCTV footage at the bank across the road. There were also a lot of missing pictures from the time she walked out of the office to going home. A lot of empty slots.

Just as he was about to check further, a crash was heard from the window. Seven looked over to the crashed window and looked over on the floor when he heard something roll which turned out to be a metal can.

The can made a beep and with a hissed, smoke came out like a fire extinguisher, filling the hall quickly. Seven shut the computer and grabbed his backpack before fleeing towards the kitchen. He heard a thud from the hall and he was not going to find out.

Though, he had a knack on who it was.

Seven slammed his hand on a button in the kitchen and metal doors begin to scroll down at the windows and doors.

He ran towards the bathroom, locking it up before clicking a switch. He heard the footsteps coming to the kitchen as the bathroom wall slide open towards the porch. Seven climbed into his car and started the engine.

From his rearview mirror he saw the bathroom door exploded and a person with a mouth cover walked into the bathroom.

Just a look into the person’s eyes, he knew who they was and yet slamming his feet on the gas, his car lurched forward, going to the street and turning to a corner. As his car zoomed down the street, his mind had enough time to process what just happen.

She knew.

She knew this whole time and yet, she acted like that.

No wonder they called her dangerous.

“Dammit and I fucked with the enemy. Had me like a fool!” he hissed, slapping the steering wheel. The memories he had with you in the house, the memory of home was shredded to pieces. It was nothing but an act.

Seven had to admit, what he did was an act too but he never knew about you. Glancing at the side mirror, a car was tailing him.

Let the games begin.

    He knew you were coming.

His house was all armed up and ready to be activated. Staring at the red Ferrari in front of you, you glanced at the hologram where the tracker is still locked on his car. Ripping your mask off, you filled up yourself with determination.

Determination to kill.

He knew who you are, that’s why he acted so sweet. Lowering your guard down and making you feel things you haven’t felt before. Your teacher’s were right, love doesn’t exist and you couldn’t believe you let him fool you. You weren’t backing down easily.

You’re going to put a bullet between his head if that’s the last thing you’ll do.

You saw him making a sharp turn into an alley, due to your speed, you were too late to turn. You smirked at his attempted to lose you, looking at the tracker, you mentally made a calculation and turn to a corner. Taking turns down the alleys that would take you back to him.

Just as calculated, you were now side by side with the red Ferrari. You banged your car against him, pushing him into the wall. You could see his car trying to fight you off as it swayed, trying its best to stir from the wall.

All of the sudden, he pulled the break and you ended up banging the wall as you went forward. You cursed as he put back his speed to pass you, opening the door, you point out the gun and pressed the trigger.

Your bullets hit their target as it blew off both of his back tires.

“FUCK!” Seven cursed as he tried to get his car under control but with a turn of the steering, his car flipped as he crashed against the lamp pole. Thankfully, he had his seatbelt on but that doesn’t make it any less bad.

You looked at the tumbling car, feeling worried for the man inside for a moment before burning the emotion as you got out of the car with your shot gun. Walking towards the upside down car, you saw Luciel- 707, staring blankly ahead at his broken windows, still attached to his seat.

You pulled the driver’s door open and he pointed the gun at you.

“You know pumpkin, I always wondered how our first fight is going to be but I never expected it to be this bad” he said with a light chuckled but his eyes were cold.

You crouched down as you pointed your gun at him “Well dear, you shouldn’t be surprised by it” you gritted your teeth as you put your finger on the trigger.

The two of you had no word exchanges except guns pointing and cold eyes staring at each other.

Seven didn’t know what came over him but he dropped down his gun taking you by surprised. You stared at him as you slightly lowered your gun just incase he pulled any moves. However, seeing his sighed as he rubbed his face, grumbling his frustration.

“What do you want from me, MC- Kitty? Urgh MC, Kitty, whoever you are” he said glaring at you “Was pretending to be my wife all these years, worth it? Did you really gain anything?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed “The one pretending here is you, 707! You pretended to be that caring innocent husband just to lower my guard didn’t you?”

“Do I look like a good actor to you?” he sneered.

“Well, you sure did play the role well” you said, dropping your gun “Good enough, to fool me!”

“I didn’t fool you!”

“Then why the hell did you marry me for, bastard?!”

Seven opened his mouth before closing for a moment then opened them back “Don’t start with the names! Why did you say yes then?!”

“It’s for cover purpose!” you exclaimed.

“Cover purpose?! You were the one acting here, don’t make it as if it was all my fault!”

“You were the one who take me for a fool!”

“You were the one who acted as a devoted wife and tried to attack me in my house!”

“Y-You killed my people!”

“I’m not even American!”

“Oh die already!” you pointed the gun back at his head.

“Then just fucking do it already, woman! I’m waiting since just now!” Seven yelled as he threw his hands up.

Your fingers trembled as you reached the trigger but before you could pulled it. A gunshot was heard and a bullet pierced your arm.

Cursing, you pointed your gun the other way and shoot at the culprit. Taking cover with Seven’s car, you saw how it was his friend, Mary. He kept shooting your way non-stop. You growled as you threw a stun grenade towards him, making him jumped away from view.

Just as an exploding sound was heard, you ran back to your car before driving off.

“707 you’re alright?!” Vanderwood shouted as he recovered from the grenade, pulling trigger towards the car that was losing from his sight.

“Don’t shoot my wife!” Seven exclaimed.

“Your what?!”

Letting out a sigh, Seven messed up his hair further “Just get me out of here already”

[writingbarnes]

Sea Change • Bucky Barnes x Reader • 01

Summary : There were things she expected to happen in her life. Getting fired from her job after punching a perverted colleague in the neck was one of them. But getting kicked out of her apartment because she couldn’t pay her share of the rent for the month (and because her roommate’s boyfriend was moving in) apparently was not something she thought she would experience. Good thing Clint Barton knew someone who was looking for a roommate.

Character : Bucky Barnes X OC ( Reader )   |  Warning : Cursing  |  Words : 2K-ish

Author’s Note : The fluff/crack mythological AU you never asked but i wrote anyway. I hope you like it. Tell me what you think! Thank you @pleasecallmecaptain for proofreading this lol

• 01 • 02 •

Clint Barton was one of the friendliest beings Bucky has ever seen in his life, which was expected of someone with Artemis’ blood running through his veins. It was how he managed to have a permanent place in a diverse group of people who unironically called themselves the Avengers. Apparently a few years before he moved into the apartment, they somehow saved the apartment building from a fire after Loki played around with his potion and accidentally burned a very expensive and flammable rug. The landlord, Nick Fury, a dark man with a missing eye, made it a point for him not to experiment with ‘stupid-motherfucking-potions’ when Bucky signed his lease contract. And he wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes if he didn’t roll his eyes and mutter something sarcastic along the line how merpeople love fire. That earned him a deathly glare and Bucky wondered if Fury would set him on fire if it weren’t for Clint Barton walking in with three cups of black coffee, two of which he drank himself in a matter of minutes.

“Oh hey. Want some coffee?” He offered the last cup of coffee after dumping the empty cups in a trashcan near the stairs. “Hey, boss. Didn’t see you there with your murderous eye.”

“No, thank you. You look like you need it.” Clint Barton only shrugged and gulped down the coffee, unbothered by the scalding hot liquid.

“This is Clint Barton from 405. He lives with his girlfriend/wife, god knows what their relationship is.” Nick Fury grumbled. “Barton, this is James Barnes. He’s going to stay in lot 709. Try to get along.”

“She’s my person. A spider-person, but my person nevertheless.” Clint Barton corrected with a grin as they watched Nick Fury slammed the door of his place. “Come along, Barnes. I’ll introduce you to The Avengers.”

“The what?”  Bucky didn’t even bother to ask Clint why and trailed behind the blond-haired man while he explained about every tenant he was friends with.

“The Avengers? You’ve never heard of us? Not even from Steve and Sam? We saved this building from a fire two years ago. It was awesome, man. Loki, the little shit that lives on the seventh floor, accidentally set his apartment on fire. Tony Stark-that’s the filthy rich guy who lives in the penthouse-decided that we should help and gave us the name. I personally love it, but Nat thinks it’s stupid,” Clint paused to take a breath and unlocked the door to his place, “I think she secretly loves it.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks when something-someone tugged on his pants. A little boy, probably around three of four, with twinkling eyes and gummy smile, looked up at him in amazement.

“That’s our kid. Found him in a dumpster.” Bucky’s heart dropped at the sudden revelation before he saw Clint’s mischievous grin. “Nah, his aunt died and we adopted him. Peter, say hi to Barnes.” The little boy let out some nonsensical words, hands making a grabbing motion at him with a wide smile.

“Hey.” Bucky nodded awkwardly as he slowly picked up the kid. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sometimes his extra arms appear when he’s a little excited, just a little warning.” Clint grinned. “You know, little spiderling and all. Want some coffee?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Clint who was already running on three cups of black coffee, was too busy brewing a fresh cup to notice the weird look.

“… No, thank you.”

That was two years ago and Bucky now knows that Clint drank an inhuman amount of caffeine every day, talked too much, befriended everyone, including the stray dogs across the street, and he was disgustingly in love with Natasha and a fool for Peter.

“You’re drooling.” Bucky commented off-handedly as he settled himself next to Clint and grabbed the TV Remote from the table.

Clint shamelessly grinned at him. He never missed his aim and might be the best when it comes to archery but he was helpless when it comes to Natasha. Bucky was about to play the movie when Natasha called out his name from the kitchen.

“You’re looking for a roommate?” She asked him once she reemerged from the kitchen with Steve and Peter trailing behind her. Peter, who was now five and found his calling in imitating every single person, quickly mimicked Natasha’s stance and said the same sentence.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I thought you mermaids love to brood alone in your place.”

“Excuse me, I like being with other people.” Bucky defensively retorted.

Clint and Steve snorted. “Nick Fury went out of his place more than you do, Barnes.”

“Fuck you, Barton.”

“Fuck you, Barton! Fuck you, Barton!” Peter made an excited squeal as he repeated the words over and over again and ran back to the kitchen to find Sam.

“Language!”

.

Steve Rogers let out a loud sigh as he leaned back on the couch, eyes glaring at Bucky who just closed the door on the eight rejected roommate.

“What the fuck are you looking for in a roommate anyway? Flounder the fish? Sebastian the crab?” Steve grumbled, crossing another name on the list of potential roommate. He didn’t cancel his date with girlfriend Peggy to do this (Bucky might or might have not bribed him with pizzas). Bless Peggy for telling him to help Bucky with sorting out a new roommate, instead of going to the nice newly opened restaurant at the other end of the city.

That was seven hours ago and they were still struggling with finding the perfect roommate for his fussy friend. The pizzas were long gone, leaving them with empty grease-stained boxes next to the coffee table. They had interviewed at least eight applicants, with one getting kicked out the moment they appeared when they said something racist.

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Steve.” Bucky rolled his eyes. He was about to plop down on the couch when he heard the doorbell ring. “The next applicant won’t be here until later.” Bucky frowned.

“Maybe Peggy is here to pick me up from this hellhole.” Steve replied as he got up from the couch and made his way to the front door, ignoring Bucky’s incoherent profanities.

.

There were things [Y/N] expected to happen in her life. Getting fired from her job after punching a perverted colleague in the neck was one of them. But getting kicked out of her apartment because she couldn’t pay her share of the rent for the month (and because her roommate’s boyfriend was moving in) apparently was not something she thought she would experience.

“We were friends, Clint!” She cried into the phone, shoving her clothes into the gigantic suitcase. “I can’t believe her. She didn’t pay rent for a month too last year and I let her off!”

“Well, she’s a human. What do you expect, [Y/N]?” Clint told her.

“Well, my mom is a human but she’s not like this.” She angrily wiped the tears off her face and sat on the bed. “I can’t believe I’m unemployed and homeless. Clint, I don’t think I can survive a day outside. I have a child to feed.”

Clint snorted. “You have a fat cat that eats too much.” There was a pause before she heard him speak to the phone, “You can move to our building! My friend, Bucky, is looking for a roommate and I think you’d be the perfect roommate for him. He’s a nice guy and doesn’t talk much. You’ll love him and I bet he’ll be thrilled to have you as his roommate. Why don’t you bring your stuff over here and we’ll visit him together?”

“Are you sure? What if he says no, Clint?”

“He won’t. Do you want me and Nat to pick you up? We can even scare your ex-friend and her boyfriend for you.”

“Yes, please.” [Y/N] mumbled into the phone, hand reaching out to softly pet her cat.

.

It took her an hour to finish packing the rest of her clothes and stuff, another to put it inside Nat’s car, and a good thirty minutes to watch Natasha intimidate her ex-friend with her red eyes and extra limbs. The shrieking and crying that ensued afterwards was quite worth it. She was even smiling as she hauled her cat’s bag into the car. She would have to come back to get the rest of her stuff but after Natasha’s soft threats, she wouldn’t worry about her former roommate throwing away her belongings.

“We’ll bring this to our place. You should go to Bucky’s place and say hi.” Clint grinned. He patted the two large suitcases when the elevator door opened on seventh floor. He gave her a gentle push before she could say anything. Natasha was already gone to find an empty parking space and couldn’t stop Clint from doing whatever he wanted.

“I don’t know his room.”

“709. He’s pretty tall, pretty good looking.” [Y/N] sighed as she watched the elevator door closed on her.

.

Door 709 was located at the end of the hall to her left. She jumped a little when the door abruptly opened and someone walked out of the place with scowl on their face, ignoring her when they went past her. She took another deep breath and made her way closer to the door, nerves pricking at her skin when she heard faint arguing noises coming from inside the apartment. Maybe this was a bad idea, she thought as she raised her hand and pressed the doorbell. The bell made a weird buzzing sound, followed by what sounded like a string of profanities from someone before it opened, revealing a tall, blonde haired man, with face that made her want to cry. Pretty good looking, my ass, she thought as her eyes wandered to the man’s face. He looked like he was sculpted by the gods.

“Bucky?” [Y/N] hesitantly asked. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage when the man didn’t say anything. “Uhm, Clint said you’re looking for a roommate and he had texted you I’ll be coming over?”

At the mention of roommate, his eyes brightened up and a beautiful smile slowly appeared on his face. He opened the door wider, giving her a view of the cool-colored interiors. “Bucky is inside! Come in! What’s your name?”

“[Y/N]. My name is [Y/N].” She answered as she stepped inside the apartment. There was a turquoise colored entryway table on her right and a small whiteboard hanging on the off-white wall on her left. The apartment itself was nice and clean, with a similar floor plan as Natasha’s and Clint’s place. It was a little brighter than her friends’ home, with its blue interiors to accentuate the white walls and sand-colored carpet in the living room.

“Bucky is inside. He’ll be happy to know you’re here. No wonder he says no to all the other applicants.” Steve’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She dumbly nodded as she trailed behind him, eyes widely looking around the impressively decorated apartment. It took her a moment to process Steve’s words and she quickly stopped on her track, hands reaching out to grab Steve’s arm.

“Wait, you’re not Bucky?”

“No, I’m his best friend, Steve Rogers. This is Bucky.” Steve beamed, gesturing to a brooding guy on the couch. Bucky, as it turned out, was not as she expected to be. He looked the exact opposite of Steve, with dark, shoulder-length hair, stubbles, and frown that made him look a lot more intimidating. His gaze slowly made its way towards her, lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at her questioningly.

“Who is this?”

“This is [Y/N], your new roommate!” Steve grinned, patting [Y/N]’s back with a little force, causing her to stumble a little. She thought she saw Bucky’s lips tilted into a smile. “She said Clint texted you about her arrival.”

“No, he didn’t.” Bucky shook his head, taking his phone out of his pocket to check for new messages.

“But he said you’re on board with me being your roommate.” [Y/N] added, eyes darting between Steve and Bucky in panic.

“Uh… no?”

“Pardon my language, but what the fuck do you mean by ‘no’?” [Y/N] blurted out before she could stop herself.

Thoughts ?

Tagging some people : @pleasecallmecaptain @mangosoldier @wakandasoldier @tabi-toast @writing-soldiers @fvckingavengers @4theluvofall @meavie @montysmayhem @scarlettsoldier @marvelrevival @sebbys-girl @waitingfortherightpartner 

Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[eddiesrichie]

I Got You

YUPP JUST ANOTHER REDDIE ONE SHOT CAUSE I’M TRASH. 

Warnings: homophobic slurs, kissing

“Hey, where’s Eddie?” Richie asks as he strolls up to his friends. Everyone was here in a circle in front of the school for lunch, except for Eddie. It was weird not hearing him yammering about how unhealthy each cafeteria food was. The group instead was having their own individual conversations. Bill and Beverly were talking quietly in the grass, and Stan, Mike, and Ben were talking a few feet away against a tree.

Stan looks around and shrugs. “Maybe he got caught up in something. I can go with you to look for him if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just go,” Richie waves him off. He sets his tray of food down, grabbing for a bread roll to take with him. He winks at Bill. “Continue sucking Bev’s face while I’m gone.”

“Sh-shut it, Richie!” Bill retorts back. He side-eyes Beverly with blushed cheeks, and he refuses to meet anyone’s eyes. Mike laughs in the background, and Beverly blushes and grins in her spot next to Bill.

Richie makes kissing noises with his lips, and Bill glares at him. “Beep, beep, Richie.”

The noises die on Richie’s lips, and he sticks his tongue out at Bill childishly. “Fine! I’m going to go find the cute, little bodied version of an anti-bacterial soap bottle, and I’ll be back.”

He gets a few goodbyes as he walks away, chewing on his roll as he walks across the schoolyard. The fallen leaves from the fall weather crunches under his converse shoes. He walks into the school, peeking around to find the other boy.

The farther he gets down the hall, he starts to hear loud yelling and banging against metal. Richie finishes off the bread, tensing up as he walks through an empty hallway. Memories of Pennywise lures in his thoughts, and he fears the corner as if he’ll see the clown as soon as he rounds it.

Another fear creeps up, covering up the other one like a blanket.

What if Pennywise had Eddie?

Somehow the reality was worse. Richie turns the corner, and he stops dead in his tracks as he stares at what’s in front of him.

It was much worse because Henry and his goons had Eddie pressed harshly against the lockers. It was worse because they were 100% real, unlike Pennywise. Pennywise lived on fear, and they was no longer afraid of him anymore. Pennywise couldn’t hurt them, especially because he crawled down his hole to come back in the future.

“Your boyfriend’s name is trashmouth right, faggot?” Henry growls through his teeth. His fingers wrap tight around Eddie’s skinny neck, surely leaving bruises that will probably lead to his mother shoving him in the car to race to the hospital for a numerous amount of checkups.

Richie’s stomach folds in on him, and his feet turn to stone. The question felt like a punch to the face, causing whiplash, taking him by surprise.

He can’t be the reason that they’re hurting Eddie.

Eddie does his best to break free from the hold, shoving hard against the older boy. “Fucking leave me alone, you asshole!”

Henry snaps at his friend, Patrick, behind him with his free hand. Patrick comes around with an overflowing trashcan that normally sits outside the gym doors. Fear clouds in Eddie’s eyes, struggling hard to get away. “What are you-“

“I’m only trying to show you that you two are meant to be,” Henry tells him with feign kindness. Eddie yelps in surprise when Henry reaches down and yanks the fanny pack clean off his waist and tosses it at his other friend.

“You are both trash.”

“No!” The exclaim rips out of Richie’s throat as Patrick turns the trashcan over, effectively causing all of the trash inside to land all over Eddie’s small frame.

Richie runs, forced to watch helplessly as Eddie gets shoved back into his own locker with the door locking him inside. His screams follow him inside, and Richie’s heart clenches at the sound. Henry and the others laugh as they sprint away, surely running away in order to not get caught.

“Eddie! Eddie, are you okay?” Richie asks through the metal door. He grabs the lock seeing that the locker was in fact Eddie’s, and thankfully, he knows Eddie’s combination. He stares at the boy all the time, and he noticed what numbers Eddie hits every time he opens his locker.

His brain short-circuits when he jumps back at the sound of Eddie banging hard against the locker door with his fists. He hears whimpering through the door.

“Eds? Eds, listen to me. You’re going to be okay,” Richie comforts gently. He fumbles with the lock, and he whispers, “I’m going to get you out of there, and soon you’ll be out here chastising us about us not using anti-bacterial wipes on our handlebars.”

“R-Richie?”

Richie curses quietly at messing up the combination. “It’s okay, Eds. Your enchanting voice got me messing up here,” Richie softly jokes. His sweaty fingers slip around his grip on the lock.

“Richie…Please. I can’t breathe. I can’t br-breathe, Richie.”

Eddie’s voice was so scared, and Richie wants to rip the door off its hinges. “Fuck!” Richie shouts, and then he finally gets the damn door unlocked. He flings it open and sets his eyes on the quivering boy inside. Richie tries to hide his wince, but the smell and sight of the trash that covered the other boy was atrocious.

Eddie bursts out of the locker, hyperventilating with wide, crazed eyes. His breathing is heavy and loud, and he stands with his limbs out like a hanging scarecrow. His whole body shakes. Condiments, liquids, and other questionable substances drip and fall off Eddie’s shaking form, and Richie has anger growing rapidly inside his chest.

“Just a second, Eds, don’t worry. I’ll be right back,” Richie mumbles out quickly. He turns around to get to his own locker. Thankfully, his locker was on the opposite wall of Eddie’s, so he didn’t have to go far. He opens it with tense fingers, and he reaches inside to grab the extra inhaler he’s been holding ever since he met Eddie. It’s deep inside his locker behind some books and papers, but it’s still there.

Eddie’s breathing picks up even more, gaining volume. “R-Richie, please! I-I can’t breathe!” he sobs.

Richie slams his locker shut and runs back to Eddie. He brings the inhaler to the frantic boy’s lips. He goes to caress Eddie’s cheek, but Eddie jumps back at the touch. Richie tries not to take it personally. He decides to keep his distance, reassuring Eddie that he’s okay, and he needs to breathe.

It takes longer and more hits than usual from the inhaler to do any good. Eddie was soon able to breathe a little better, but his chest still shakes from his sobbing. Eddie looks down at his body, and his face falls at the repulsive sight of his clothes, legs, and arms. He was still standing there, keeping his arms and legs spread eagle. Tears run down his face, and Richie is on the end of his rope.

“Come on, Eds,” Richie says as he starts to guide Eddie down the hall. “We’re going to the locker room. We’ll get you all cleaned up again. You’ll be so clean, you’ll be sparkling down the hall.”

Nothing much takes Richie by surprise. Due to his spontaneous personality, he doesn’t get surprised that many times. He’s more of a ‘let it be’ kind of guy rather than one who ponders on things.

But Eddie reaching for his hand to hold on to has his stomach doing backflips. The idea that he was an anchor of some sorts for Eddie at a time of crisis has him blushing. It wasn’t exactly new. When they dealt with Pennywise, Eddie was the first thing on his mind when they were attacked, and he likes to know that he was the first thing on Eddie’s mind as well.

He remembers when Pennywise appeared in the projector, and the first thing he did was pull Eddie towards him. That was the moment he knew what he felt for Eddie was not entirely friendly. There was something more growing in the pit of his heart, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

It doesn’t take long to get to the gym locker room. When they get inside, Richie is quick to lock the door behind them to keep from being disturbed. He helps Eddie over to the showers, and he leans in to start running the water. The bell above them rings, signaling them that lunch was over and to get to their next class. Both boys ignore it.

While waiting, Richie looks over at Eddie, who was staring at the garbage layered on his clothes. Richie tests out the water with a finger. “Serious question time,” Richie announces casually. Eddie tenses behind him.

“Do you think every time Henry breathes, a bunny dies?”

Eddie is silent.

“Do you think Satan lost an ounce of evil when Henry was born due to him taking some of his demonic powers with him?”

Eddie looks over at him with the tiniest bit of a smile on his lips. There is a tear currently rolling down his cheek, and Richie’s breath hitches.

“Did you know that every tear you shed, another fairy dies?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Shut it, Richie. I’m not in the mood. I want to rip my fucking skin off.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Richie jokes easily with a wide grin. Eddie flips him the bird. He’s relieved to know that Eddie was slowly coming back to himself. Richie stands up with a clap. “Alright, princess, your shower of cleanliness awaits!”

“Alright,” Eddie sighs in relief. He begins to pull his shirt over his head. “Don’t look at me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of ruining your honor and virtue,” Richie responds on instinct. Though, he does take a quick glance to make sure Eddie is able to remove the ruined clothing. He looks away when Eddie only has his underwear to remove.

“Do you even know what those two things are?” Eddie retorts as he closes the curtain behind him. Richie hears him sigh once the water hits his skin. “I didn’t think those words were in your vocabulary.”

There’s my Eddie. Richie smiles, feeling at ease now that Eddie was acting like himself again. “I added them to my dictionary when I met you, Eddie spaghetti,” Richie sing-songs.

The room goes quiet, except for the spraying of the water. Richie listens for the rhythm of Eddie’s breathing to make sure the boy was still breathing normally. He scrunches his eyebrows when he hears harsh scratching and rubbing. “Eddie, it’s okay. I’m sure you got most of it by now. Enough to where you can make it home where you can pull out your state of the art disease killing machine,” Richie quips.

“I do-don’t,” Eddie croaks from behind the curtain. Richie winces when he hears the scratching get louder and more furious. “I think there’s some kind of grease or maybe ketchup that won’t come out of my hair!”

Richie is up on his feet and shoving the curtain out of his way before he can think too much on it. Eddie shrieks and covers the area between his legs automatically at the sight of Richie.

“Richie, what the fuck! Get out!”

“Why would I look at you when I got better, bigger bits than you?” Richie plays it off with a shrug and a wink. He grabs for Eddie’s hand in his hair with a tsk. “You’re going to scalp yourself, dipshit. I’ll look, okay?” Richie assures the distraught boy.

If looks could kill, Richie knows he’d be dead, but Eddie didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine,” he hisses out in defeat.

Richie skims over the hair efficiently, yet quickly. He lightly scrubs at the remaining unknown substance until nothing was left. He says, “You’re good to go. Now hurry up, you’re using all of the clean water America has left.”

Richie leaves the shower with a quiet ‘thank you’ following after him. He sits back down on the locker room floor, waiting patiently as Eddie shuts off the water. He sees Eddie’s hand reach out to grab for his underwear.

Richie pushes his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose before speaking. “Hey, um, I don’t know what exactly what happened. I only caught wind of probably half of it…but what happened? He said something about you being trash too?”

Richie was lying through his teeth, but it was only to keep Eddie from going insane again. He had also heard Henry call him Eddie’s boyfriend, but Eddie didn’t need to know that.

There’s silence behind the curtain, and Richie bites his lip from saying something else. He was called ‘trashmouth’ for a reason. If he opened his mouth again, he’s sure something without his permission would come streaming out.

Eddie leans to where half of his body was showing from behind the shower curtain. Water droplets drop from the ends of his hair, and he looks over at Richie. “They, uh, Henry called me queer because he thinks you and I are together.”

Richie’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He sort of figured that was what Henry had been yammering about, but that just sheds some light on it all. He chuckles lamely, “That’s dumb.”

Something darkens and deflates in Eddie’s facial features, and Richie quickly speaks up again. “Who would want to kiss little ole’ me? Everyone in their right mind would be in line to kiss you, Eds,” Richie teases.

Eddie’s cheeks redden. “I told you I hate when you call me that,” he says with a small voice.

Richie leans back against the wall, slowly making his way closer to the smaller boy. “Do you?” he asks with a serious tone, though he keeps a smile stitched to his lips for back up. He has his theories, but he doesn’t want to scare Eddie into another attack.

Eddie ignores the question, and Richie tries to think what that could mean. “Nobody would want to kiss someone who probably smells like complete trash right now.”

“Nah,” Richie tells him without thinking. “Sure, you kind of do, but you also smell like Eddie.”

Eddie steps out of the shower with his eyes stuck on Richie. “What do I smell like?” he asks with confusion swimming in his eyes.

The atmosphere of the room was changing drastically, and Richie was torn between staying and fleeing. His words were straying from friendly to something else quickly, and he doesn’t know how to shut himself up. He wished his own conscious had a mouth to say ‘Beep, beep, Richie’, because he is 100 percent sure it’d be screaming it at the top of his lungs right now.

Eddie was looking at him with such interest tied with vulnerability like every word Richie was saying was a lifeline. Richie has always felt powerless under Eddie’s gaze. Nobody stole his entire attention like Eddie did. He could be ranting or making up some hilarious story with a funny plot twist, but then he’ll notice Eddie looking at him, and he switches from confident to uncertainty and stuttering like stuttering Bill.

On the other hand, if he had just started ranting about some story or joke, he’ll have his full attention on Eddie. He doesn’t know what it is, but he loves the idea of impressing Eddie, or making the other boy laugh. Eddie’s approval has him weak in the knees, wanting nothing more than getting some sort of reaction out of him. That’s why 75 percent of the time he was directing his jokes at Eddie.

“You just…you smell like, Eddie, I don’t know,” Richie mumbles. He runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “I don’t know how to explain it. You smell like you. You smell clean with a mix of outside spring air. You smell like familiarity. I don’t know, but what I do know, is that if I were to close my eyes, I would always know it’s you right next to me.”

Eddie was looking at him in shock and wonder, and Richie’s conscious finally speaks up to tell him to run away. He parts his lips to talk his way out of whatever hole he just fucking dug for himself, but then Eddie breaks out in a smile, and he gives a light shove to Richie’s shoulder.

“You sweet talker, you,” Eddie teases with a shake of his head.

Richie gawks and retaliates by pushing Eddie’s hand away. “That’s exactly what your mom said last night.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “And you lost it,” he bites out with another weak shove.

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Richie replies with a wide smirk. This begins a small shoving fight with light banter. Richie is pushing Eddie’s shoves, or Eddie is dodging Richie’s shoves. Richie doesn’t know how it happened, but suddenly he’s got both of Eddie’s hands in his. Sarcastic, biting remarks die on both of their lips, and neither boy breaks eye contact.

He doesn’t know how, but his hands are both numb and shaky. Eddie’s light brown eyes are pinning him in the spot, and his brain yells at him to do something. Sarcastic comment? Light humor? Another mom joke? Run-

His breath is stolen out of his lungs when lips press against his.  

His eyes are wide in shock, and he stares at Eddie’s closed eyelids. He follows along and closes his eyes too. He lets go of Eddie’s hands in order to pull him closer to him. He has one shy hand on Eddie’s hip and the other one cupping his neck. He senses two hands between their chests, but he doesn’t mind. He’s too busy trying to figure out what to do with his lips.

He experiments. He tilts his head, finding a better angle to where their noses aren’t pushed against each other. He presses slightly harder against Eddie’s lips, and Eddie copies him. He smiles into the kiss, loving how incredibly soft the shorter boy’s lips are.

The kiss is sloppy and amateur since kissing was new to both boys, but they tried their best. There are shy, innocent touching – the boys trying to accustom to the new territory.

Eddie breaks apart from the kiss, but he keeps his hands tangled in Richie’s shirt. Richie grins.

“I’m only stopping now because I’m embarrassed knowing that someone is going to ask how was my first kiss, and I have to tell them that I was kissing another boy in my damn middle school locker room in my fucking underwear,” Eddie groans with fake irritation.

Richie giggles. “If I had known this was going to happen, I would’ve set up some candles. Maybe some music playing in the background.”

Eddie scoffs, “Yeah, I’m sure you’re incredibly romantic.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be, baby,” Richie quickly responds with his eyebrows wagging up and down. In the back of his mind, he’s terrified to wonder how much he’d exactly do for the shorter boy.

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans with a roll of his eyes. Though, Richie can see humor in them too.

Eddie falls short when he turns around and sees his clothes on the floor. He scowls, “I am not wearing those. I’d rather light myself on fire.”

“You can wear mine,” Richie offers with a shrug.

Eddie twists around and stares at Richie. “What?”

“I said you can wear my clothes,” Richie repeats. “No big deal. I can find clothes in this school, Eds. I’m sure Stan has an extra t-shirt, and I bet Bill has some extra gym shorts I can wear.”

Eddie stares at him with an aghast look in his eye.

Richie awkwardly picks at his fingernails, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Which one makes more sense: you running around in your underwear, or me running around in my underwear?”

Clarity seems to return to Eddie because he finally stops looking at Richie like he has three heads. “I guess that’s good reasoning,” he whispers. “Thanks, Richie. That means a lot.”

Richie smiles, and he walks over to Eddie and places a kiss on his forehead. He can think about it later on just how far he’d go to please Eddie. He’ll think about it later because right now Eddie is looking at him with those earth-stilling brown eyes. He can hardly breathe until Eddie turns around to throw away his ruined clothes.

So, he does end up running around the school searching for clothes. What else is new? Just another thing to add to the list of ‘guess what Richie is doing’.

He snickers as he adds something else to the list for the future.

Eddie.

[andthest0ryg0es]

Do You Really Want Me - Chapter 27

Izzy has a hard time sleeping. She gets up to puke several times and Shannon gets up with her each time, holding her hair back and soothing her before he tucks her back into Kate’s arms and tries to go back to sleep.

The fourth time she gets up both Kate and Shannon give up on sleeping any longer. Kate orders room service for them with extra coffee and puts a stupid comedy movie on in the TV in the sitting room. She drags Izzy and the fluffy blankets onto the couch with her, insisting that she not spend the day in bed. When he’s sure the girls have everything they need, Shannon excuses himself, telling Kate to call him if she needs anything.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your wedding night,” Izzy says as soon as he’s gone. “I...I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t want...he left me. I knew he would.”

“Stop it. You didn’t do a damned thing wrong and I won’t let you think otherwise,” Kate insists. “Besides, Shannon knew you were part of the package when he put a ring on it,” she says, holding up her hand and staring starry-eyed at her wedding band.

“He was so sweet last night but, oh god, it made it hurt so much worse knowing it wasn’t Jared,” Izzy admits, trying and failing to hold back the tears yet again. Kate holds her and shushes her until she is asleep again in her arms.

Shannon knocks on Jared’s door and he opens it almost instantly, pacing away from the door as his brother enters and takes in the disheveled room. There’s a broken lamp in the trashcan and the pillows from the couch are scattered around the floor. Jared looks like hell. “Did you sleep at all last night?” Shannon asks.

“No,” Jared answers, lightly kicking a pillow across the room and pacing after it to do it again. “I fucked up, Shan. I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t believe I… How’s she doing? Is Kate okay? You know I wouldn’t have hit her back. I deserved that from her. I was such an asshole last night,” Jared rambles out his apology as he continues to pace around the room. Shannon grabs him by the shoulders to stop his momentum.

“Hey, are you high?” Shannon asks, looking into Jared’s eyes, worried about his brother’s behaviour.

“Fuck off,” Jared answers, shaking his brother off of him. “Of course not! There was an exceptional amount of caffeine consumed last night, that’s all. You have to help me fix this, Shan. I tried sending flowers to the room this morning and Kate had the front desk change our security password so I couldn’t.”

Shannon can’t hide the proud smile that creeps onto his face at his wife’s resourcefulness. “What the fuck were you thinking last night?”

“Shan! She kept this from me on purpose. And to add insult to injury she told everyone else, including you and mom, without me!” Jared yells, but today he sounds more frustrated than angry.

“I didn’t find out until she showed up outside our room last night in tears,” Shannon corrects him.

Jared sighs. “Good because if you had let me tie her up knowing she was pregnant… Does she have any idea what kind of a risk that is?!”

“Dude, she can’t be that far along, she was fine, and Kate was taking care of her,” Shannon tries to justify.

“It’s not supposed to be Kate taking care of her, it’s supposed to be me!”

“Damn it Jared, she was trying to do the right thing. She didn’t want to overshadow Kate’s wedding. Remember the wedding yesterday?! Thanks for the awesome wedding night drama, man,” Shannon yells at Jared, grabbing one of the pillows up of the floor and throwing it at his brother. “You’re right, it is supposed to be you taking care of her. Instead it was me up all night with her while she was sick while you were getting your head out of your ass! Grow the fuck up and get over it. She loves you and you love her and now you’re having a baby! Why would you tell her you don’t want it?”

“I didn’t. I did but I didn’t. It was all fucked up. Everything was perfect. I asked her to move in and she just started spazzing out about babies and I freaked out. We’ve never had a conversation about children. I didn’t understand why all of a sudden it was all she was screaming at me,” Jared starts to try to explain the events of the evening.

Shannon’s phone buzzes and he checks it immediately. “Fuck.”

“What?” Jared asks worriedly.

“Kate is packing up. She wants me to bring Izzy’s bags. Kate changed our tickets. We’re heading home in an hour. So much for the honeymoon,” Shannon says.

“I’m sorry, Shannon. I’ll go talk to her, I’ll fix this,” Jared insists.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. You’re flight is still tonight and Izzy doesn’t want to see you,” Shannon tells him quietly. “You told her you didn’t want the baby. Why would you say that?

“I said I didn’t want a baby now. I didn’t know! I have to talk to her,” Jared insists, trying to pull himself together to talk to Izzy.

“Mom is coming home with you tonight. I’m supposed to keep you here till the girls leave.”

Jared moves towards the door and Shannon shadows him closely. “She can’t leave until we’ve talked about this. She’s so stubborn! She always does this… Move, Shannon,” Jared demands when Shannon puts himself between the Jared and the door.

“Jared, she needs time. You fucking broke her… She isn’t alone. Kate and I…” Shannon tries to assure his brother this is the right thing to let happen as Jared sinks to his knees in tears. “I’ll talk to her. Pull yourself together and come home with mom tonight. I’ll text you when she’s ready, okay?”

“Shannon, I’m so sorry,” Jared sobs and Shannon hugs his brother tightly. “I’m sorry I ruined your wedding night. Please tell her I love her and…”

“I’ll take care of her until you two work this out,” Shannon tells him before he leaves.

****

“He was in tears on the floor,” Shannon whispers to Kate, telling her all about the conversation he had with his brother this morning on their flight home. Izzy had dozed in her seat shortly after take off and so Kate had started in on the inquisition about Shannon and Jared’s interactions last night and this morning. “He knows he fucked up but he feels that she did too.”

“I don’t understand what he has to be mad about,” Kate said, snuggling into Shannon’s side.

“She waited a long time to tell him, you know how he is about secrets,” Shannon explained.

“Only he gets to have them,” Kate rolled her eyes. “She only found out the day before you guys got home. I think she speculated before then. He’s wrong again.”

“He doesn’t keep secrets from her, he expects the same. I think that’s fair. He was pretty pissed about her not telling him and then letting him tie her up in bed. He kept saying he could have hurt her and she doesn’t let him take care of her… I think he’s just frustrated that she doesn’t seem to trust him.” Kate huffs, rolling her eyes. “Babe, he’s oblivious to relationships. He has no clue what is acceptable. If he were mad at an assistant for fucking something up he’d walk away. If he were angry on set he’d walk away. After the incident with Brad in New York I told him he should try walking away from fights where Iz is concerned. Maybe that’s what he did here?”

“So he walks away from the woman he claims to love when she tells him that she’s pregnant with his child.” Kate says, her voice getting louder with each word. “He is an inconsiderate asshole. He didn’t even think about how she was alone, in the dark, and cold. He didn’t care that her biggest fucking fear is being alone and losing again. Only his feelings mattered,” Kate tells him, trying to control her rising anger. “He is selfish and I will never forgive him for putting her through this.”

“Kate, he asked her to move in with him. She said no, told him she regrets every being with him and then told him she was pregnant. It’s a lot to take in,” Shannon defends his brother.

****

It’s three days later when Jared shows up on Shannon’s doorstep, banging on the door and asking where Izzy is. Shannon had managed to keep him at bay with text messages for awhile but they all knew it was only a matter of time until Jared came looking for her. Shannon lets him in.

“She’s not at her place, I’m guessing she’s not here since you just let me in. Where the fuck is she, Shannon?” Jared asks his brother with barely contained rage.

“She’s fine, thanks for asking,” Shannon snaps at him sarcastically.

“It’s been three days…” Jared spits but Shannon quickly cuts him off.

“I see you’ve calmed down,” Shannon deadpans as he leads Jared through the house.

“She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts. I sent flowers, and Kate sent me a photo of them in the fucking dumpster. She can’t ignore me forever. We have to talk. That’s my fucking baby too! And I know she’s been with Brad. Are you fucking kidding me?” Jared yells.

”Wait, what?” Shannon questions. “Why would you say that?”

“So, you’re covering for her now?” Jared snaps back. “I saw it Shannon. Izzy’s not very good at hiding from the cameras. How long has she been seeing him? Is it because I was gone so much?” Jared questions, following closely behind Shannon, shoving his phone in his brother's face with a tabloid photo of Brad’s arms wrapped around Izzy, kissing her. “I mean are you fucking her too?”

“Jared just go home,” Shannon suggests, refusing to give into his brother’s accusations. “You’ve got to get a grip.”

“No. I’m not leaving until you answer me!” Jared says, stepping around Shannon so that they're face to face. “Tell me now God damn it!”

“You’re crazier than I thought,” Shannon snaps. “I love my wife and you know damn well that I never fucked your girlfriend.”

“I don’t believe you. Tell her she’s not getting a dime from me. Tell her I want a fucking DNA test!” Jared screams back at Shannon.

Shannon shakes his head, looking past Jared at Izzy. “I don’t have to. You just did.”

Jared turns his head to see Izzy standing in the doorway of a bedroom at the end of the hall. “Iz…” Jared calls out when she turns to walk away. Izzy turns back into the bedroom, desperate to get away, and Kate takes her place in the doorway.

“Haven’t you broken her enough. Now you wanna come here and call her a whore and humiliate her?” Kate says calmly, shutting the bedroom door behind her and stalking towards Jared angrily.

“Tell me when she started fucking Brad,” Jared’s voice elevates, the reality of the situation sinking in. “Shan…”

“Just go home Jared,” Shannon whispers, disappointed, walking away from his brother.

Kate fumes even with Jared crumbling in front of her. “You’re insane and an asshole if you think for one second that Iz would ever cheat on you. Get out. She doesn’t need your money. I assure you that she and HER baby will be well taken care of. You’re off the hook,” Kate says crossing her arms and clenching her fists.

“Iz!” Jared tries to call out but his voice fails him. “I...I’m nothing…” Jared starts.

“You’re right, you’re not a man. You’re not a boyfriend or a father.” Kate tells him. “Leave her alone. Forget you met her. Don’t text her. Don’t call her. Don’t fucking breathe her name,” Kate warns him.

“You have something to say to me?” Izzy stands firm from behind Kate, her arms folded across her chest.

“Iz, go back to your room, I’ll handle…” Kate steps between Izzy and Jared protectively and tries to turn Izzy back down the hallway.

“Kate, I’m capable of doing this on my own,” Izzy cuts her friend off before she has the opportunity to finish her sentence, pushing her aside gently. “Jared, you’ve got five minutes!”

Izzy darts her eyes from Shannon to Kate and nods at him as he grabs his wife and leads her down the hall away from the other two so they can talk, with a whispered, “Good luck,” over his shoulder.

“Your time started already,” she says coldly as she walks into the living room. Jared follows quickly on her heels, his head spinning as he tries to find any words at all. The digital clock on the side table catches his attention as the time changes from 4:35 to 4:36. Jared takes two steps closer towards her but she quickly dodges his advances. “Don’t touch me,” Izzy promptly warns him. Jared drops his hands, shoving them into his pockets, still unable to find his words. “Your time is ticking away Jared. What is it that you need to talk to me about?”

Jared opens his mouth to speak, a million thoughts crowding his brain and before he can manage to put one sentence together Izzy sighs, throwing her hands to her sides. “Fine! I’ve got a few questions, since you’re here. A few things I want to say to you.”

“Yeah, anything.” Jared is grateful that she’s taking control of the situation, until she starts screaming at him.

“How dare you even think for one second that I would fuck Brad behind your back. For the record, I haven’t been with anyone but you. I’m not dating Brad and I certainly never fucked him!” Izzy screams and then pauses, taking a deep breath in, hoping that he’ll retaliate, apologize, anything, but he just stands there. “I knew you would leave me. I knew you weren’t ready but I hoped maybe you loved me enough. I thought, especially after I talked to your mother that I was just being ridiculous. She told me you loved me and that you’d love our baby.” Izzy’s anger turns to tears. “You just walked away, like I was some girl at one of your meet and greets. Like I was nothing, like we had nothing. I thought you loved me and I was wrong.”

Izzy pauses long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. Jared continues to stand there speechless so she presses on, hoping she’ll only have to do this once. “After the baby is born I’ll do the DNA testing if you want. I will not hurt my baby to satisfy your ridiculous accusations of infidelity. I loved you. I knew you’d leave us,” she tells him, her voice cracking at the end.

“Iz...I never meant to… you lied to me. You can’t expect me to just…” Jared finally speaks, his voice weak and his thoughts jumbled.

“I did lie to you when I said I regretted us. I don’t. I do regret this moment and I hate that I was right. I wish more than anything that I would have been wrong and maybe even that it hadn’t happened but I can’t change it now. I won’t. I didn’t want to do this alone but I can,” Izzy lies knowing the thought of raising their child alone frightens her more than she’s willing to admit to him. “I’m sorry I was too selfish and afraid to tell you before. I just wanted to hold on a little bit longer,” she sighs, diverting her eyes finally from the clock to look at Jared’s tear streaked face.

“I didn’t know… You told my mother before me,” Jared tells her, clenching his fists, so that he doesn’t touch her, knowing she’ll run.

“I didn’t tell her. She just knew,” Izzy further defends herself. “She called me family,” Izzy says, wiping a tear from her cheek as soon as it falls. “I knew you’d leave us,” Izzy covers her face, her tears now streaming down her face. “Kate’s the only one who’s ever stayed.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared croaks out, even as his anger rises over the mention of Kate. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits.

“You don’t have to. It’s not your job anymore,” Izzy says before attempting to slide past him. Jared instinctively reaches out to grab her. She pauses only for a second at the touch of his hand across her stomach before she pushes past him. “Don’t,” she mumbles under her breath as she rushes out to find Kate, leaving him alone in the room.

A few short moments later Shannon appears in the doorway to retrieve his brother. “Iz said you two were done,” Shannon says sadly. Jared turns around to face his brother, still speechless. “‘I’m sorry’...that’s all you fucking said to her after all that,” Shannon growls.

Jared watches the patterns of the lines in the wooden floor as they walk through the halls until the sounds of Izzy’s crying registers and he searches for her, not wanting it to end like this. The cringe inducing sound of her sobs is coming from just beyond the door and he stops, peering into the room. Kate’s sitting on the couch, her back to him. He can’t see Izzy but it’s obvious to him that her head is in Kate’s lap. “Shhhhhh, Iz it’ll be okay. I promise I won’t let him break your heart anymore,” although he can clearly hear Kate, Izzy’s response is jumbled and hushed and he can’t make it out. “You’re not alone. You have me and Shannon. We’re not leaving you.”

Shannon slaps his brother’s shoulder and urges him to continue walking. Jared’s anger builds. “She wants to keep us apart doesn’t she?” Jared spits, pulling his shoulder from his brothers iron clad grasp. “Your fucking wife loves this. Do you hear her telling Izzy she doesn’t need me?”

“Jared, you know how Kate is with her,” Shannon tries to calm his brother’s rising anger.

“No, fuck that! That’s my baby and my...she’s...the love of my life. I know I fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it but I’ll never be able to if Kate doesn’t back the fuck off.”

“J, you know she’s just protecting Iz,” Shannon insists.

“What, protecting her from me?” Jared fires back as Shannon forces him further down the hall and towards the door.

“Look, there’s only one person Izzy trusts and that’s Kate. You’ve pissed her off. She doesn’t trust you anymore so you have to fix this with both of them if you want any chance at redemption,” Shannon tries to explain to Jared, but Jared’s anger rises again. Jared rolls his eyes and shakes his head, remembering what his brother told him a long time ago about not fucking this up because the girls are a package deal. “Prove them wrong,” Shannon insists further, as he follows his brother out to his car. “She still loves you but you broke her into a million pieces on that beach.”

Jared doesn’t say a single word, only slams his door and races home. He spends the whole night thinking those words over and over in his head until he’s pretty sure he’s going insane. When his phone rings he doesn’t even bother to check who is calling before he answers. “Hello.”

“I heard you went to see Izzy today,” Constance says, concern in her voice. “I thought maybe you’d want to talk.”

“I fucked up. I insisted that we talk. She gave me the time and I blew it. I didn’t say a goddamn word. I just stood there like a buffoon while she poured what was left of her heart out onto the floor. I didn’t tell her she was wrong, or that I love her or that I want her and I want our baby. I just stood there letting her think everything she said was true. She stopped when I touched her...I should have kissed her but I was too shocked. I just let her go,” Jared stares at his hand that had touched her earlier. “She slipped right through my fingers.”

“Yes, you really fucked up and I know you’re trying to figure things out but I’m sorry to tell you there is no controlling this. Son that girl has the same control issues and she has to think about how she’ll explain to her child that she’s already failed as a mother because you left them both. She feels responsible for that and guilty and that is an unexplainable feeling of failure already as a mother. That girl LOVES you,” Constance tells him, emphasising the word in present tense. “...and you know that child is your responsibility. Do you really want your son or daughter thinking you don’t want them? You know what that feels like,” Constance chastises him. “There is nothing about having a kid that is ever going to feel under control, so you’re just going to have to learn to get used to that.”

“You don’t understand,” Jared exclaims. “She hid it from me. She thought I would leave her if she told me about it. She didn’t trust me. She let me…” Jared pauses, but ultimately decides to be honest. “She let me tie her up. I was so...rough with her and I could have hurt her.” “You did leave her,” Constance reminds him. “She was right. You walked away the moment she told you about the baby and I’m sorry son but having sex is never going to be a safety concern for a healthy pregnant woman. In fact she probably craved it, especially if it’s a boy. It’s the nature of pregnancy.”

“Mom,” Jared starts to explain further. “I wasn’t leaving. I needed to think, then things just went to hell. Now it’s too late...I don’t think I can fix this. Every time I try, I fuck it up worse.”

“She loves you. She wouldn’t be so upset if she didn’t,” Constance tells her son. “This should be an unforgettable time in your lives. She’s going to her house tomorrow. Go to her, put your fears aside and take care of her. Make her let you. Prove to her that she can trust you.  Do something monumental, something to let her know you aren’t going anywhere.”

As soon as he’s off the phone with his mother Jared texts Shannon. “You talked to mom today. Thank you.”

“She called to check on Izzy. I just told her what was going on.”

“I’m sorry, Shannon. I promise I’m going to fix this.”

“How?”