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puddygeeks · 2 years ago

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Wᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ Dᴇᴀᴅ Oʀ Aʟɪᴠᴇ - Sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ�� Tʜɪɴɢs, Eᴅᴅɪᴇ Mᴜɴsᴏɴ/OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5: Iᴍᴘᴜʟsᴇs

Masterlist

Episode: Pre season 4

Rating: Mature

Summary: Since she was five years old, Marcie Bell and Eddie Munson have been inseparable. There was never one without the other. That is, a near death experience with the Mind Flayer changed everything. Now, Marcie must navigate her newly realised feelings for Eddie, whilst facing down the Upside Down all over again. Whoever said love was easy?!

Fix it fic. There will be absolutely no Eddie Munson death here!

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC

Status: Ongoing

My writing is entirely fueled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐷𝑟𝑢𝑔/𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡/𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛, 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎, ℎ𝑖��ℎ 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎, 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑈𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑦.

Taglist: @toobsessedsstuff

A/N: I am so sorry for the massive delay in getting this published. It was a real struggle to make this chapter work and took many edits, but we got there in the end! As for my posting schedule, I actually just had my first baby a couple of weeks ago so life is complete chaos right now. I still absolutely plan to write when I can but I have no idea when that will be. Thanks for sticking with me anyway. Every kudos and comment means the world to me <3

♫ ♠ ♫

Chapter 5

Robin and Steve looked equally uneasy as they followed Marcie into the dive bar. Their feet stuck to the floors as they walked, residue of spilt drinks or other substances that didn’t bear thinking about now decorating the soles of their shoes. Though there was a gig planned, it was surprisingly quiet with only around 10 drunks hanging around by the bar. However, they could only shake their heads in bemusement at the way Marcie strolled in and waved at several of the audience as if she was in her element.

Marcie approached the bar with confidence, chuckling at how lost her friends looked behind her. Despite being underage, she knew all of the tricks to a good night out at this venue and simply ordered three colas, planning to top hers up from the flask that was hidden in the back of her jeans. She gestured for the other two to come take their glasses when she caught the eye of a familiar older customer who sat on a stool nearby.

“I was starting to wonder where you were.” Terry called as he wandered over to her side with a teasing smile. “Your boy’s playing tonight. He was looking nervous without you.”

“He’s not my boy, Terence.” Marcie scolded lightly, her words making as little impact on the clearly drunk man as usual.

“Sure he’s not and I’m stone cold sober.” He laughed, before turning to nod toward the others. “You bought friends? Almost enough to count as an actual audience here now. Let me know if any of you want a beer. My treat.”

“Thanks for the offer, but you know I always have my own supply. Besides, I think I’m the only alcoholic in my crew.” Marcie winked, breaking away from the well meaning bad influence to rejoin her friends who seemed utterly horrified by the interaction.

“You hang out with a lot of creepy old men who like to get teens drunk?” Steve questioned whilst she pulled out her flask to mix a drink.

“Yes, actually. This is the Corroded Coffin fan club. Welcome.” She teased, breaking into a laugh at the way that Steve’s brows shot up. “You should really learn not to judge a book by its cover, Harrington. Terry used to babysit my mom. He’s one of the good ones. He’s still pretty well known for keeping an eye on the youngsters here. I got spiked a couple years ago and he took care of me until he could hand me over to Eddie.”

“By buying underage kids alcohol?” He questioned, noticing that even Robin was slipping her the side eye for this.

“As if you never drank underage.” She scoffed, before rolling her eyes at his judgement. “Terry’s policy is simply that it’s better to allow people to break the rules in a safe way, by getting weak, unspiked drinks from someone who will ensure they don’t get wasted, than to leave them to get taken advantage of by trying to find their own way.”

Clearly not entirely convinced by this story, Steve simply shook his head and glanced at Robin, who made a concerted effort to disguise how uncomfortable she was. Marcie shrugged it off as she led them closer to the stage ready for the show. After years of hanging out with Robin, she’d got used to having to remind herself that not everyone grew up in the same white trash environment that she and Eddie did. Things that seemed mundane to them were shocking to others and she had learned that most times it was easier to agree to disagree.

“I do appreciate you guys coming with me tonight. I know this isn’t really your scene.” She remarked, flashing them both a smile that seemed to at least partially calm them. “This place gets a bad rep, but it’s really fine. Most of the sketchy people won’t arrive until much later. And if at any point it gets too weird for you, we’ll leave. Okay?”

“I’d still rather if either of you wanted a beer you asked me.” Steve pointed out, earning a sceptical look from both girls. “You’re right. I’ve been drinking for years, but not through creepy old guys. I have a fake ID.”

“Okay, Mom.” Robin groaned, easily earning a snigger from Marcie.

The unexpected comment eased the tension in the group, and in little time at all Robin and Steve had already engaged in one of their usual spats. Marcie was content to sip on her drink, only half listening to their conversation as she watched the empty stage.

There was a far stronger feeling of apprehension in her stomach tonight as she waited for the band to appear. As well as she had done until now, she was painfully aware that there was no time more challenging for keeping her attraction under control than when watching Eddie perform. No matter how badly she wanted to be here for him, there was something about him playing guitar that drove her absolutely wild every time.

A couple of drunken cheers echoed around the draughty space, announcing the arrival of the band and as her friends finally stopped bickering to position themselves on either side of her, Marcie steeled herself.

From the moment that Eddie stepped foot on the stage, he began scanning the area with a nervous expression. It only faded to a relieved smile when his gaze landed on her face. In an instant, she knew that she had made the correct decision by pushing herself to attend and couldn’t even bring herself to imagine how crushed he would’ve been if she’d missed it.

With his confidence restored, Eddie moved to the front of the stage to get the crowd hyped up. It wasn’t long before the usual band of drunks were cheering together to the songs and even Robin and Steve found a way to enjoy themselves, as he returned from the bar with beers for the two of them whilst he nursed another cola.

Marcie finished her drink rather quickly as a result of repeatedly catching Eddie’s eyes and being unable to withstand feeling as if he was singing directly to her. There was no denying that she would find the man attractive if he was wearing a garbage bag, but whilst dressed in his ripped jeans and shirt, his hair thrashing in the dim backlighting of the stage, she could have fallen in love with him all over again.

Eddie strutted the stage with a confidence befitting any rockstar, his husky voice blasting from the speakers and sending shivers down Marcie’s back. Just as she felt as if she could hardly keep her thoughts clean, he descended into an epic guitar solo that drew her attention to his hands. Watching the way that he worked the strings, the spotlights reflecting off his signature rings, she found herself biting her lip.

By half way through the set, she gave up on mixing drinks and instead took sips directly from the flask in an effort to suffocate the rising desire in her chest. Between songs, Robin bumped into her side and flashed her a concerned expression.

“I don’t want to kill your buzz, but you might want to slow down on the drinks, Marce.” She fretted, glancing to Steve for backup. “I know you can hold your liquor, but I’m starting to fear for your liver.”

“My liver has been well trained. Believe me, it can handle it.” Marcie insisted. “Besides, it’s all part of my tactic. I’m having a drink every time that I think of non-friendship thoughts. It’s helping me to bury them.”

“Actually, I think it might be bringing them out.” Steve argued and she turned to face him with confusion. “You’re totally giving him bedroom eyes.” He added, his accusation supported by Robin snorting with laughter.

“I am not!” Marcie gasped, whipping her head between the pair of them in horror.

“You kinda are.” Robin choked out between breaths. “You look like you want to climb up there and devour him. Why do you think he keeps looking at you?” She cackled as she necked the last of her drink and put the empty glass aside as if she didn’t ever want to touch alcohol again.

“It’s okay, Robin. We’re clearly imagining it.” Steve interrupted with an equally amused smile. “Just like the little bit of drool you’ve got right there.” He continued, pointing to the corner of Marcie’s lips.

“Where? Right here?” She crooned mockingly, before reaching out to punch him in the arm. “You two suck.”

♫ ♠ ♫

Eddie struggled to concentrate during the cleanup of their set. Though he’d been delighted to find that Marcie had attended tonight, he couldn’t deny the fact that her bringing Harrington along had gotten under his skin. Sure, it added to their usually sparse audience, but he couldn’t stand the thought that she might use one of their gigs as an opportunity for a date.

Then again, if that was the case then Harrington had absolutely failed to get her attention throughout the night. He held a smug satisfaction for the way that Marcie’s gaze had been glued to him during the entire set. Now that he thought about it, perhaps that had been the cause of his distraction. He felt somewhat strange for thinking it, but he could’ve sworn there was something different in her eyes tonight, something strangely resembling desire.

Eddie shook his head to dislodge the thought before it could settle, rushing to finish the job so that he could assess the dynamic between the pair for himself. It took longer than usual to pack up without his head in the game, but eventually they finished loading the van and he was able to re-enter the bar. He pushed through the crowd that had begun to gather for the next act looking for any sign of the trio, but was only able to find Marcie and Robin near the door.

Robin was standing protectively by Marcie, who was half sat, half leaned against a bar stool clutching her ankle. They both seemed in high spirits still, talking loudly and laughing together, but something seemed off about his friend that caused him to rush over to join them.

“Hey, Marce. Are you alright?” He blurted the moment that he reached them and Robin startled as if she hadn’t noticed him coming.

“Eddie!” Marcie breezed, turning to him with a familiar sense of delight that indicated she had been drinking rather heavily. “I’m totally fine. I might’ve just missed the step coming out of the restrooms and given my ankle a little roll. Fortunately, the whiskey has numbed all pain.”

“Unfortunately, she’s walking like a wounded animal.” Robin cut in, throwing her a long suffering look that hinted she had been the one to force her into a seat. “She’s sprained it, but apparently doesn’t think that should stop her from dancing. We’re gonna take her home before she really hurts herself.”

Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm, especially when she stuck out her tongue at Robin. It was exactly the kind of behaviour he would expect from drunk Marcie. She was the kind of person who wouldn’t let anything ruin a great night, but judging from the heaviness of her blinks and the slight sway in her position, they were correct in deciding that the time had come to remove her.

“Getting high of your own supply again, Hells Bells?” He teased, a fond smile filling his lips.

“You know it.” She answered with a devious expression, opening her jacket to reveal the trusty flask he’d bought for her last Christmas. “You guys were great tonight. You really tapped into your rockstar performance. The way you handled that guitar-”

“-Had girls swooning. Other girls!” Robin interjected.

Eddie raised his brows in surprise at her flirtatious attitude, wondering exactly what she would’ve said if not interrupted. Robin made a conscious effort to catch her friend's attention, her eyes wide in warning as if silently instructing her to keep quiet. Marcie giggled to herself, amused by her antics.

Eddie opened his mouth to question how they were getting home, when the answer rushed through the door. Harrington seemed flustered as he jogged to Robin’s side, barely even noticing Eddie’s presence as he turned his concern to Marcie.

“I’ve moved the car out front, but security is only giving me a couple of minutes so we need to be quick.” He explained, looking sceptical of her speed when she stood and immediately winced. “Okay. You know what? Hold on.”

Without warning, he crouched to lift Marcie and threw her gracelessly over his shoulder.

“Steve!” She squealed in shock, before releasing a slurred laugh as she dangled over his back. Eddie felt his temper rising at how casually he handled her and when Robin moved to wave goodbye, he couldn’t prevent the words from escaping.

“Woah! Hold on a second.” He spat, grabbing Harrington’s arm to hold him in place. “What’s your plan here? You can’t take her home like that. Her mom will freak.”

Whilst Harrington focused on analysing him, Robin appeared as if she had only just considered this problem. Eddie held his rival’s gaze, struggling to contain the need to rip Marcie out of his grip as he willed himself to use his words instead. His hands clenched at his sides as he forced his attention away from the places that Harrington was gripping her.

“He’s right. Her mom is cool with most things, but she’ll be pissed that she got drunk enough to injure herself. She at least needs some time to sober up.” Robin conceded, drawing the attention of Harrington who observed her with confusion. “I could take her back to mine?”

“Yeah? Your parent’s cool with your friends getting too wasted to walk?” Eddie questioned, waiting a few moments for Robin to shake her head in a defeated manner.

“I’m fine!” Marcie slurred, attempting to fidget out of the tight hold. “And perfectly capable of my own choices, thank you. Put me down, Steve!”

“She can crash at mine.” Harrington suggested, ignoring the squirming of the girl on his shoulder despite Robin’s obvious disapproval. “I’ve got a spare room and my parents are away. I’ll drive her home in the morning. No harm, no foul.”

“Absolutely not!” Eddie growled, his voice filled with an intensity that caused both of the people before him to flinch. “Look, I’m the one who lives closest. I’ll drive her back to mine, she can put her foot on ice, hang until she’s sobered up and walk back when she’s ready.”

Marcie’s friends turned to face him with scepticism, as if they were aware of something that he was not. They didn’t answer this suggestion for a few moments, instead peering at each other in silent conversation, until Marcie gagged from being held on her stomach and Robin grew tired of watching Harrington hold her captive.

“Steve, put her down before she pukes all over you.” She warned, reaching out to assist him in lowering her to the ground delicately so that she wouldn’t fall. “I can tell my parents I’m staying at Marcie’s and come back with you. You’ve still got a few movies from the store to catch up on. We can make it into a sleepover. What do you think, Marce?”

There was something about the way that Robin pushed this idea on her friend, gripping her shoulders to focus her attention, that didn’t sit right with Eddie. Behind her, Harrington gave her a meaningful look too, as if they were both encouraging her toward the decision. Though he was sure that their intentions were good, he couldn’t deny the feeling that she wasn’t being given a choice and couldn’t understand why they would blatantly ignore his offer.

“Guys, as much as I love your company between work and school, I think I’ve seen quite enough of you lately.” Marcie answered, her words bleeding into each other from the effects of the whiskey. “I want to go with Eddie. He’ll take care of me.”

For a few moments, Eddie faltered as she turned her half lidded gaze to him with a dozy smile. His heart skipped a beat, hardly able to believe that she had so clearly chosen him and he couldn’t help returning her smile.

“If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to have you.” He offered, relishing the way that her eyes lit up at his words. “She can take my bed if needed. It’s only a short walk home and Wayne’s working tonight so no one even has to know that she was there.”

“Oh, I’m sure her mom would love that.” Robin grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest as she seemed to struggle to decide whether she was more annoyed by his behaviour, or Marcie’s.

“Actually, she’s pretty cool about her staying out, as long as she’s kept updated. Just pass a message that she’s staying at yours. Her mom won’t even care.” He countered, noticing that Robin didn’t seem convinced. “She slept at mine when she got spiked, too. I know how to cover for her. It’ll just sound better coming from you.”

Harrington nudged her side, quirking his brow in silent question and Robin sighed in defeat as she noticed that her friend was still smiling at Eddie in delight.

“It’s her decision. She trusts him, she said she wants to go with him, so we should respect that.” Harrington muttered, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear as he leaned closer to check on Marcie.

“I parked at the back to load up the equipment. You gonna be okay to walk that far?” He asked in a hushed tone, and she rolled her eyes.

“I only sprained my ankle, Eddie.” She chuckled, shaking her head at his concern. “It might take me a bit longer than usual, but the fresh air will do me some good anyway.”

“If you say so. I just didn’t want anyone accusing me of not treating a lady in the way that I should.” He teased, winking at her and noticing that a rosy blush spread across her cheeks.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with a lady, even if you found one.” She retorted, issuing a challenge without even realising it.

“Fine. She’s all yours.” Robin announced, turning back from whispering with her conspirator and Eddie couldn’t prevent a smug smile from spreading across his face.

“Alright, my lady. Your chariot awaits!” He announced, dipping down to meet her before she could protest.

When he lifted her from the ground he made a point of demonstrating that his treatment of her was far more careful than Harrington’s had been. He balanced her in a bridal style carry, pausing for a moment to reestablish his balance from the additional weight before navigating only slightly clumsily out of the door.

“You’re a nutcase, Munson!” Marcie giggled in his embrace.

Her arms came to rest around his shoulders and her head nuzzled into his neck, as if she were hiding from the cold of the nighttime air. It was strangely nostalgic to have her this close to him, but he knew that he couldn’t show too much joy for this situation as he felt her two friends following closely behind.

When he reached the van, he lowered her into the passenger seat, taking extra care to ensure that he didn’t bump her injured foot and turned to find Robin lurking behind him as if she was waiting to check on her. In a bid to keep the peace, he stepped aside to allow them to catch up whilst Harrington seized the opportunity to grill him on everything he’d had to drink tonight to prove that he was safe to drive.

Stepping closer to the van, Robin leaned against the door to examine her clearly incapacitated friend. Although she knew that she had promised not to hold her responsible for the events of the evening, she couldn’t help feeling as if she had somehow let her down by allowing her to end up in Eddie’s care and for her own peace of mind, she needed to confirm one final time that this was the correct decision.

“Are you sure you’re good with this, Marcie?” She asked quietly, her brows knitting together in concern. “I thought you didn’t want to be alone with Eddie?” She questioned, noticing that in her current state Marcie seemed thoroughly confused at this suggestion.

“Eddie will look after me! Eddie always looks after me.” She stated in a tone of minor offence, but seeming to notice the worry in her friend’s face, she flashed her an understanding smile. “I’ll be fine, Robs. I promise. I’m just having a moment of weakness. This isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you and I won’t be tomorrow. You can go home.”

Though reassured by her surprisingly clear consent, Robin hesitated for a few moments longer until she noticed Eddie making his way around to the driver's side. She quickly checked her friend's seatbelt, then faced her with a forced smile.

“Alright, Marce. You deserve a night off from your heartbreak.” She breathed, despite a tightening in her chest. “But if he does anything to upset you, I’m going to take a page from your book and come after him with a baseball bat. Capiche?”

“Capiche.” Marcie laughed. “Night, Robs.”

♫ ♠ ♫

Eddie had his hands literally full with attempting to coordinate unlocking the door to his trailer, whilst also keeping Marcie upright. With only one hand available to grip her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and clung to her hip as she sagged against him, mentally willing the door to give him a break.

Unfortunately for him, the fresh air had only caused the alcohol in her system to take further effect and she seemed significantly more drunk than she had at the bar. Now he had her complete lack of inhibitions to contend with alongside her injury.

Without warning, the door swung open and they practically fell inside, Eddie barely managing to catch Marcie before she face-planted the floor. He paused to prop her against a wall, instructing her not to move before turning back to lock up for the night.

He was so distracted with the task that he failed to even notice her moving around behind him. In fact, he was practically completely lost in his own thoughts on his next move as he seemed to only just have considered how strange this situation was after she had been avoiding him for weeks.

It occurred to him now that he might have scored the perfect opportunity to ply the truth from her, but a small, niggling part of him wondered if the truth was really something that he wanted to hear. Not fully present in the moment, Eddie turned slowly toward the living room and slid off his denim jacket, followed by his leather jacket, throwing them both onto the couch where he realised he would likely be sleeping tonight.

It was only when he spun back to where Marcie had been standing that it dawned on him something was wrong, something he never would have imagined in a million years would happen to him. He froze to the spot, his eyes widening to an extent that he was sure they hadn’t ever before.

In the time that she’d been unsupervised, Marcie had dropped her jeans to the ground and stepped out of them. Her t-shirt was already making its way over her head, thankfully giving way to a tight silk camisole that protected at least some of her modesty. However, the length of this garment failed to cover the very small pair of black lace panties that were currently on display to him, cutting over her perfect ass in a way that made his mouth fall open.

Eddie wanted to speak, to say anything to interrupt her, but the words seemed to fail him. He stuttered the syllables, desperate to prove to himself that he wasn’t a creep, but no sound emerged. Instead, he found himself staring as she threaded her hands under the delicate straps of her cami to fish out a bra that matched the panties, throwing it onto a dining chair in a mind blowing method that somehow kept her breasts covered the entire time.

Unable to allow this to continue any further, Eddie suddenly sprung into action as he leapt forward to grab her arms before she could remove anything else.

“Woah, woah!” He cried as he hurried into her space and she startled as if she had only just realised that he was present. “Christ, stop! What are you doing?”

“Eddie!” She gasped in surprise. “Don’t be a perv! Get out of my room.” She slurred her words, but the annoyance in her face cracked some of the tension between them.

“You’re in my trailer, Marce.” He chuckled, before his gaze was drawn downward by her attempting to cross her arms over herself despite her complete lack of coordination.

Through the thin fabric of the cami, Eddie caught sight of something he knew he absolutely should not have seen. The smallest sparkle of silver was visible on either side of her chest, its placement easily translating to Eddie who had spent more than his fair share of time staring at alternative models in magazines.

Eddie’s mouth rapidly became dry and he struggled to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat. He willed himself not to stare, already noticing that his pants seemed tighter and he shifted his grip on Marcie to hold her slightly further from him. He strained to think about anything other than the undeniable nipple piercings she had that were wreaking havoc on his mind, tearing his gaze from her altogether before he could say or do anything that he would later regret.

“Fuck me.” He cursed under his breath as he released her to search the room for anything that could remove the distraction.

At the bottom of a pile of old clothes, he managed to find a practically vintage trucker t-shirt of Wayne’s that was several sizes too big. Throwing it roughly over Marcie’s head, he was relieved to find that it covered both the piercings and her panties, the length coming down to her knees on her thin frame.

“Better.” He choked out in a voice that was obviously strained, but Marcie seemed entirely too inebriated to notice. “Come on. You need some sleep.”

“M’not tired.” She grumbled, rubbing at her eyes and spreading an exceptional amount of black eye shadow all over the back of her hand.

Despite already being stained with more substances than Eddie cared to name, he worried how his sheets would fare against this amount of dark makeup. Unsure what he would be able to supply to assist in properly removing it, he decided that it was better for her to discover tomorrow morning that he’d at least tried to meet her needs.

With a heavy sigh, he wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her toward the bathroom. Squeezing into the tight space, he leaned her against the counter and busied himself with searching for a clean washcloth. After soaking it under the tap, he returned his attention to her face as he attempted to push aside her unruly locks.

“You have so much hair.” He remarked, pushing as much as he could behind her ears to prevent drenching her.

“Rich coming from you.” She scoffed and he could only smile at this entirely fair retaliation.

“Alright. Sit still. I need to get some of this war paint off.”

Marcie attempted to argue with him, but was quickly silenced when he pushed the cloth to her face. Regardless of his best efforts to be delicate, he couldn’t help some degree of clumsiness in his movements. The more that he wiped at her skin, the more the makeup seemed to simply push around and when he rinsed the cloth under the water, he chuckled under his breath at the state of her.

Instead of revealing clean skin as he’d hoped, she now resembled a child who had been wearing face paint in the hot summer sun. Concentrating his energy on the black eyeshadow and dark lipstick that would undoubtedly get everywhere, he managed to remove a reasonable amount, but eventually had to accept that soap and water couldn’t hold up against the staining under her eyes.

When he finished, he rinsed the cloth again of the murky water, before he was distracted at the sight of the only hair tie that he owned. He spun Marcie around to face the mirror so that he could go to battle against her waist length locks.

“Eddie! What did you do?” She slurred, leaning closer to the mirror whilst he gently yanked her back by her hair. “I look like a panda!”

“Pandas are cute.” He chuckled, but the moment he removed his grip on her when he finished his task, she whipped around to flash him an annoyed pout. “Only so much I can do with soap and water. I don’t exactly have many lady visitors, Marce. You can’t say I didn’t try.”

Marcie moved to storm out of the bathroom, but lost her balance almost immediately and Eddie shook his head as he swooped her into his arms again.

“Easy, Sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.”

It was a challenge to navigate the narrow halls of the trailer with her laid across his chest, but he stuck with it anyway, knowing that it would take far longer to herd her back toward the bedroom. He almost tripped over the mess of clothes on the floor, barging his way over to the bed where he lowered her down as if she was made of glass.

Finally tired enough to stop fighting him, Marcie sank into place as he lifted the covers over her in satisfaction. Her eyelids began to flutter closed from the moment that her head hit the pillow and he couldn’t resist hesitating for a moment, gently stroking the hair back from her face. However, when he turned to leave, she startled awake.

“Where are you going?” She gasped, gripping onto his wrist with as much strength as she could muster and he spun back around to face her with a fond smile.

“The couch.” He stated in a nonchalant manner. “You can have the bed, my lady.”

“No. I don’t want you to go.” She slurred, causing Eddie to freeze to the spot for the second time tonight.

Her brows were furrowed together with stubbornness, as if she hadn’t imagined for a second that he would leave her until now. By stark contrast, he had been deadly serious when he advised her friends of the sleeping arrangements. Sure, they had shared a bed before, but things were different nowadays. He hadn’t considered doing that again tonight at all and the very thought caused him to gulp.

“I’m not gonna be far, Marce. Just the other side of the trailer.” He chuckled awkwardly, but her expression was unmoved. “You’re really drunk and I’m trying to respect your space. I really don’t mind the couch.”

“But…I don’t want to be alone.” She admitted, her determination giving way to a vulnerability that caused his breath to catch in his throat. “Please stay with me, Eddie. Like old times.”

Eddie’s stomach flipped at her words, his mind struggling to decide what the moral thing was to do. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in this exact situation with her in the past. He’d slept at her side when she got spiked, despite being sober himself, but that was mostly because he was afraid she might choke to death during the night. Then there was the night when the power went out and she ran to his trailer in fear of the storm. She’d demonstrated that she was comfortable with this arrangement before, but since she’d been avoiding him, he was unsure whether she would regret it in the morning.

He fidgeted on the spot as he agonised over the decision, but when his eyes met hers again, he felt his resolve begin to crumble. There was a sadness in them that he hadn’t seen before, something deep and hidden that made it almost impossible to deny her. He glanced back toward the couch again, before a defeated sigh left his lips.

“Alright. You win.” He mumbled, watching as visible relief washed over her.

Eddie switched off the light then removed his jeans, leaving his T-shirt on. He nudged Marcie to move her over so that he could climb in beside her, and was careful to ensure that he left plenty of space between them. It felt strange to stay so far apart, when they had spent the night snuggled into each other for warmth one winter when they couldn’t afford to heat the trailers.

In the silence of the night, he stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Where this would previously have been comfortable, he found himself feeling self conscious, worrying that he might have overstepped by bringing her to his home at all. The only sound to distract his wandering mind was Marcie’s breathing that grew steadily deeper and slower.

Eddie couldn’t be sure how long they had laid there, when she shuffled closer to his side. Delicately, she leaned her head against his shoulder, one of her hands wrapping around his upper arm in a reserved embrace. Without thinking, he leaned his head toward her too, his jaw coming to rest on the top of her head and allowing him to breathe in the sweet scent of her hair.

“I miss this.” She whispered, her voice barely even registering against the crushing silence of his bedroom.

“Me too.”

The confession escaped before he could stop himself, relieved when he felt her smile against him. Her breathing grew heavier still, indicating that she was battling against sleep and he debated whether it would be taking advantage of her condition to ask why she had been avoiding him.

“I wish it could be like this all the time.” She admitted in a slow, sleepy voice and Eddie couldn’t resist the opportunity that she had presented him with.

“It can.” He muttered. “I don’t know why it ever changed.”

“Because of the secret.” She slurred between deep sighs that almost sounded as if she was talking in her sleep.

“What?” He questioned, his stomach dropping with nerves. “What secret?”

After a few moments without a response, he lifted his head to glance down at her, only to find that she had finally succumbed to her alcohol driven exhaustion. Eddie cursed under his breath. If he had thought that he was going to struggle to sleep before, he had no idea how energised this teasing comment would make him.

He looked down at her dozing off, her face tucked into him as if it was the most comfortable place that she could be. It was the longest that he’d ever been able to stare at her, especially this close. Even with her hair messed up and eyeliner smeared down her face, he couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was. It took a few more moments of admiring her before he acknowledged that a fleeting thought of kissing her at the back of his mind had grown to be all consuming.

Wait. Shit!

This was Marcie he was thinking about. The same girl who had given him wedgies when they were kids; the one who stuck chopsticks in her mouth and did walrus impressions; who almost got arrested with him one summer for a ridiculous firework prank and got sick on the waltzers at the last fair. She was his best friend, his partner in crime. He couldn’t ever risk doing anything to jeopardise what they had.

However, he couldn’t deny what he felt as he noticed how peaceful she looked sleeping on his shoulder. He wanted to kiss her.

Now that he considered it, it wasn’t the first time this thought had occurred to him. There had been numerous moments in the last few years where he had found himself wondering what it would be like to cross the boundary of friendship. Each time they had come close, it had been harder to pull himself back from the edge. The last time she slept over, he’d had to put himself through a cold shower after she left to try to clear his head.

As hard as he tried to deny that anything had changed between them, he supposed it wasn’t unreasonable for him to have doubts. She was arguably the only person who he had allowed to get close to him in his entire life. She knew his darkest secrets, and he knew hers. They had comforted each other during the worst times, celebrated together during the best. It was inevitable that she would become important to him and it was only natural that he might wonder at the nature of their bond. It didn’t have to mean that he wanted more.

Marcie shuffled closer in her sleep, her arm draping across his waist and he lifted his arm to allow her to snuggle into his chest. At this angle her head tilted slightly toward him, positioning her face exactly into the moonlight that streamed in through the window.

In the dim light of the room, Eddie found himself utterly fixated on her lips. He was consumed by the thought of kissing her, acutely aware of every part where their bodies touched. Delicately, he reached out to tuck her fuzzy hair behind her ear, lingering his touch for a few seconds on her jaw.

Her lips parted for a moment, a drunken mutter escaping that he couldn’t quite make out. His heart leapt into his throat as he replayed the sound in his mind and was almost able to convince himself that she had said his name. He watched as her lashes fluttered indicating that she was dreaming, only finding himself hoping that it was about him.

Regardless of what he might tell himself, one thing was clear to Eddie at that moment: he had already passed the boundary of friendship a long time ago.

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andyouweremine · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 1,499 times in 2022

70 posts created (5%)

1,429 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@absentlyabbie

@gffa

@perioddramasource

@obscure-sentimentalist

@itwaswhileyouweresleeping

I tagged 1,115 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#star wars - 98 posts

#nancy drew - 72 posts

#nancy x ace - 67 posts

#bridgerton - 44 posts

#persuasion 2022 - 33 posts

#kris writes - 27 posts

#obi wan disney - 27 posts

#obi wan spoilers - 26 posts

#leverage - 21 posts

#legacies - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 115 characters

#like i've been on this earth 30+ years and i've never understood going out and having sex with a practical stranger

My Top Posts in 2022:

and now you're beside me (and look how far we've come)

(5107 words) by always_a_queen

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Ace/Nancy Drew

Characters: Nancy Drew, Ace (Nancy Drew)

Additional Tags: Forehead Kisses, 5 Times, Mild Sexual Content, Slow Dancing, Slow Burn, Requited Love, Post-Season/Series 02

Summary:

When the door creaks open sometime in the late afternoon, she assumes it’s her dad. Figuring he’ll assume she’s asleep—she’s trying to, her throat feels raw and her head is pounding—Nancy doesn’t bother to lift her head to look. It’s only when she hears her name spoken softly that she realizes the person who just came in is not Carson Drew. Or Ryan Hudson. It’s Ace.

Or: Five times Ace Kisses Nancy on the Forehead.

24 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

sometimes a family is an ordinary redhead bartender, the heir to the magic world’s mafia, the kid whose parents own hogwarts, the orphan with literal inner demons, and the most notorious rogue of all time who is no-so-secretly a marshmallow

29 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)

Relationship: Ace/Nancy Drew

Characters: Ace (Nancy Drew), Nancy Drew

Additional Tags: Episode Fix-it, Fix-It, Morse Code, Requited Love, no beta we die like nancy's moms

Summary:

Before Nancy puts her hand on that knife, before Ace blips back into existence and she wraps her arms tight around him, before all of that, Nancy feels the faint tapping again.

It’s not Ace’s name this time or even a foggy explanation of what happened to him.

It’s just dot-dot, then a pause. Enough time for Nancy to fill in the letter. I. Then, dot-dash-dot-dot. L.

Ill? Illegal? Illegitimate?

Three dashes, and her heart is in her throat. That’s an O.

---

Post 3.10, "The Confession of the Long Night". There's one more thing Ace needs to tell Nancy before he blips out of existance.

30 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

So the last time I got sick and ran to the store for supplies I bought extra and made myself an Emergency Sick Kit, and I know this sounds super simple and adult, but MAN it’s was such a lifesaver this week when my throat started hurtling last Thursday.

In the kit:

Canned Chicken Noodle Soup (put in bowl, put bowl in microwave, let brothy soup soothe sore throat). I’ve also snagged chicken and rice, potato soup, tomato soup, anything easily sipable or something that wouldn’t irritate my throat.

Jello (pour in bowl, pour hot water in bowl, stir, pour cold water in bowl, stir, throw in fridge overnight, enjoy soft goodness on sore throat) (honestly, jello works better for me to relieve some of the throat ache than a lot of things)

Applesauce (decent shelf life. rotate out. pour. enjoy. fridge after opening.)

I also like oatmeal as it’s filling and easy on my throat and I can put honey in it. I never see it mentioned as a sick-food, but I like it and it lasts well. I eat it fairly regularly for breakfast so whenever I get a new box from the store I rotate the old stuff out.

Saltines. (for the stomach upsets)

Ginger ale. (also for the stomach upsets)

Tea. (my throat and I swear by this one) (and honey if you want it)

Cough drops. (a brand you like and or find helpful. I like Ricola, personally)

Vaseline or other ointment or Chapstick (for that ow between your nose and upper lip from blowing your nose all the time)

Emergen-C. You may also want Gatorade. If you like Gatorade. Which I do not, really. You might also want just regular vitamin C.

Over the counter cold meds. You know what you like to use/what works well for you. Ask your doctor or pharmacist if you’re taking other medications so there are no negative interactions.

I also, having had sinus issues in the past, 100% recommend using a Neti-pot or other sinus rinse because MAN it helps SO MUCH. I like the squeeze bottles.

Vicks vapo-rub. I’ve yet to try the lavender but it sounds WAY more pleasant.

Hand Sanitizer. (especially if you live with another person. sharing is not caring)

Thermometer.

I’d also recommend any other easy-to-make foods if you’re cooking for yourself. I used the sore throat friendly foods while I had the sore throat, and then once the sickness morphed more into more congestion I went for other simples, like pb&j.

Anyway, being sick sucks, but being sick and feeling like you need to run to the store while sick sucks more so instead of doing that just prepare with a little at a time per-grocery run and then when The Sickness Hits you’ll have an arsenal of things to feel better.

58 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Librarians of tumblr, recently my (public, not school) library introduced self-checkout, which I’ve been using because pandemic. (They also have the option for no-contact-pickup, which I have also used periodically. I call in, read off my library card, and they bring my holds items out onto a table outside.)

The self-checkout is just SO easy, especially if I’m running in to pick up something I didn’t put a hold on. I just scan my card and put my books/media on a little reader and it checks them out for me and emails me my receipt.

My concern is: Will this negatively impact librarians jobs? Is it better for me to call in and do no-contact pick-up, or take my books to the front desk for a librarian to check out? Or is this a ‘no, because of pandimic your librarians probably appreciate you using the self check out, but once it stops go back to using the front desk’?

Genuinely curious because I love my librarians and my library and want to keep them around.

460 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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s0urw00lf · 2 years ago

Text

All the wrong things

Edward Cullen x reader

Y/n L/n just moved to forks with her uncle looking for a new start after running from her past.

Y/n had just arrived in forks Washington after a long drive. She had hoped that this would be her final destination for a long time. She had spent her whole life running, she was able to find out about her last living relative, Charlie swan. Once she reached out to him he immediately agreed saying he'd appreciate some company in the house as his daughter had chosen to live with her mom permanently. She pulled into the driveway of Charlie's house seeing him standing outside waiting for her arrival. She got out of her car and walked over to charlie awkwardly. " hey kid, it's been a while" he said bringing her into a warm hug and making y/n sigh in comfort. it had been forever since she had a hug, let alone from a family member. "yeah I don't even remember it here, it's been about what like fifteen years?" she asked with a slight chuckle pulling from the hug. "somewhat" Charlie replied. they both stood in what felt like a comforting silence as they both aren't very talkative people. charlie then moved toward her car " Need help with your bags?" he asked, Y/nshook her head "oh no, I didn't bring much" she lied. truth is she didn't have much to bring, all of her old belongings were locked away in a home, in the town she was sure she'd never be welcome back in.

At that y/n grabbed her things from her car and followed charlie through the house. the house wasn't extravagant like her old one but it was a home and that was all she could ask for. as if he was reading her mind charlie said "it's not much compared to your old home I'm sure" he said having a slight blush on his cheeks which y/n could tell was from embarrassment. "its lovely charlie" she said. charlie smiled a bit and lead her to the bedroom he had set up for her. "id remember you mentioning you liked painting so I got some supplies." he said pointing to a small art station in the corner. Y/n smiled and thanked charlie while looking around the room. charlie left, he wasn't one to hover which Y/n was thankful for. She was able to get settled in fairly quickly so she let herself wander around the house and get comfortable with the layout. She was in the kitchen when she heard a honk come from outside, she went to a window and saw two men both tan with long black hair but one older in a wheelchair, and the other much younger, maybe around her age.

Y/n went outside to greet the guests when Charlie introduced her " Uh y/n this is Jacob and Billy Black" he said gesturing to the two, "Jacob, Billy meet y/n, my niece" he said and y/n waved at the two. The older man billy spoke up "it's about time your here, he hasn't shut up about you since he found out you were comin' " he said teasingly, the two older men started tussling with each other Making y/n turn to Jacob "are they always like this?" She asked chuckling. He smiled "it gets worse with old age" he replied. "I'm Jacob by the way, which you already know. We were like best friends for the week you were here years ago" he said laughing. She smiled "you must have an excellent memory," she said shaking her head and looking down at her feet. "No I just have a lot of pictures and stories," he said. "Just from one week?" She asked now looking him in the face with her eyebrows raised. He chucked "you wouldn't believe it, I'll have to tell you some someday," he said "yeah for sure" she replies smiling. Charlie and billy came back towards the two teens "so y/n, how do you like it?" Charlie asked.

Her face morphed into confusion "like what?". Charlie patted the back of the truck "the truck, bought it iff billy for you, you said yours wasn't holding up too great.". Y/n's jaw dropped "no way! You did not! This is awesome!" She exclaimed happily. Jacob nodded "I rebuilt the engine for you, it's as good as new" he said proudly. "This is amazing thank you!" She exclaimed opening the door to the car hitting Jacob on accident to which she apologized and he just shrugged it off. She hopped in the driver's seat and Jacob joins her in the passenger. "Okay, so you gotta double pump the clutch when you shift" he said handing her the keys. She turned to Jacob with hope "maybe I can give you a ride to school?" She asked with hope. Jacob's face fell slightly "no I go to school on the res" he said. Y/ns shoulders slumped "that sucks, I would have liked to know at least in person at school". Jacob and billy stayed for a while Jacob chatting with y/n and billy with Charlie. When they left y/n decided shed cook dinner as a thank you bit letting her stay. After dinner, she went to bed so she could get a good night's sleep before school in the morning.

This first chapter is short I know the next one will be longer I promise I’m just trying to let the story began before trying to make any extreme changes to the plot.

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #twilight #x reader #vampires #cullen coven #coven #s0urw00lf #fanfiction

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mhdiaries · 2 years ago

Photo

Wave 1 Ghoulia Yelps Diary

*kindly sent in by @fedorasquidwithglasses*

July 15,

I went to the mailbox to see if the book on monsterlecular biology I ordered was there and by the time I started back to the house it began to rain. Needless to say I was soaked by the time I got back inside. Everyone thinks I am so smart but if I were really intelligent I would carry an umbrella with me wherever I go.

July 16,

I woke up with a monster cold this morning. Ugh… I just wanted to lie in bed and simply un-die. Sir Hoots A Lot kept me supplied with tissues and books so I did not have to get up and mom even brought in some lukewarm dragon noodle soup although I am quite sure it was hot when she left the kitchen with it.

July 25,

I started a new book today. Actually it is a graphic novel… okay comic book. It is all about a zombie boy who gets pecked by a radioactive hummingbird and gains the power of super speed. I know it is just a made up story but a ghoul can dream can she not?

July 31,

So there is this zombie boy and I have become completely enamored with him. He plays on the casketball team and he is sweet and smart and I get tongue tied every time I am in his presence. I attempted to ask some of my ghoul friends what I should do but all the advice they gave me just seemed wrong. I even thought about sending a letter to one of those teen monster magazines:

Dear Relationship Know-It-All,

I am totally head over tombstone with the most engaging zombie boy but I am too nervous to talk to him. Please send your most generalized reply with a solution so diluted that it has no possible application to my current situation.

Signed, Thoroughly flummoxed in his presence

I did not, of course, send the letter. The last thing I want to do is publicly announce my inability to function in the presence of the opposite sex. It really should not be this difficult but it does require a certain amount of spontaneity and unscheduled events are not my fate.

August 15,

Today was the day I had scheduled to make a trek to The Maul in order to take advantage of their back-to-school fashion sales. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond my control involving a flat tire, an intransigent hunchback and untimely solar flares I goes to The Maul about 4 hours late. I was able to makeup most of the time because I had a list of things I needed, which allowed me to bypass shopping and proceed straight to buying mode. The last stop on my list was the shoe store and I got there just as they were closing. I tried to talk to the store lurk into giving me just a few minutes but she did not understand zombie so she just rolled her eyes said “Sorry we’re closed,” and started to pull down the roll up security door. This caused the whole day to come crashing down on me and I started to fall apart. It was then that something remarkable happened. An arm reached around from behind me and stopped the door from closing. Then through my tears I could see that the door was being pushed back up and store lurk’s eyes had gone very wide. I do not know where she came from, but Clawdeen, perhaps the most intimidating girl at Monster High, stood there in full Alpha mode. “She said she had a list and that it wouldn’t take long, and since you are trying to close five minutes earlier than your posted hours, I suggest you open up and wait on her.” The lurk swallowed hard and said, “Of course Ms. Wolf.” Clawdeen put her arm around me and said, “Come on ghoul friend let’s try on some shoes.” It was one of the most enjoyable shopping experiences of my short zombie life. I even bought an extra pair on Clawdeen’s advice and when we were done she and her brother Clawd gave me a ride home so I didn’t have to take the bus. It is unfortunate that Clawdeen is still angry at Cleo because of the way Cleo and Clawd’s relationship ended. In retrospect though, I suppose Cleo should not have started dating Deuce the day after she dumped Clawd but what do I know about relationships?

August 20,

I made the acquaintance of a new girl today. Her name is Frankie Stein and although her understanding of zombie is quite rudimentary, she only asked me to repeat something twice. She had many questions about what it is like to be a zombie. Her inquiries showed a remarkably limited knowledge of zombie life and culture but I was happy to oblige her in her quest for knowledge. Her first question was, “Why do zombies only speak zombie but write in vernacular?” Okay, she did not use the word “vernacular” Anyway… I told her that it was a function of our unique zombie physiology. Actually, I believe I said that it is the way we are made – like a werewolf gets doubly hairy and ferocious on nights with a full moon or a vampire not being able to go out in the sun without totally covering their skin. It just is. I look forward to getting to know Frankie better when school starts. She is monstrously sweet.

August 31,

I received my “Zombies are monsters too!” t-shirt and bumper sticker in the mail today. The bumper sticker will have to go onto my wall until I get my license but I will proudly wear the t-shirt, under something else, because I hate drawing undue attention to myself. Yes I am being contradictory here. I want to make a statement but I do not want to be noticed while I am doing it. Why a statement? Well, it is not as if zombies are treated poorly by the “legacy” monsters but sometimes we do get treated like background noise which is a little disheartening. Yes we only speak zombie, yes we slowly shuffle along, yes we often appear to be devoid of personality but the same observation could be made about any teenager. Regardless, I am just as special as any pedigreed monster. Speaking of pedigreed monsters, my iCoffin just went off to remind me I am supposed to meet Cleo de Nile tomorrow.

September 1,

Spent the day at Cleo de Nile’s helping her get her class schedule organized. While Cleo does have the reputation of being arrogant and demanding, which she is at times, she can also be generous and helpful. How does she help me? It is hard to socialize when you are as shy as I am but Cleo will not allow me to sit on the sidelines. When we first became friends she took me around and introduced me to everybody – even Clawdeen! Now I am included in every social event and I have so many good friends at MH that while I am still shy they will not allow me to be invisible. I am still closest to Cleo though because she took a chance on getting to know a quiet and nerdy zombie girl when she really did not have to.

September 6,

Although I have enjoyed my time off for the summer I am eagerly anticipating the resumption of the school year tomorrow. I know that I am unusual in this but school is where I get to focus on my two favorite activities, acquiring knowledge and spending time with my friends.

#monster high #monster high diary #Ghoulia Yelps #wave 1

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

Note

I'm feeling under the weather. Would you write some scenarios of how the GOM boys + Kagami would take care of me to help me feel better???

Awwww! I’m so sorry to hear that!! I hope you feel better ^_^. Hope this helps too! It’s a little long with all the boys. So rest of the GOM + Kagami is under the cut.

Akashi:

Being sick was the worst. Between the body aches & pains, general lethargy, you hadn’t gotten out of bed hardly at all today. You barely had the energy to get up and call school this morning to tell them you weren’t coming. Thankfully, they hadn’t pressed, and wished you a speedy recovery for returning to class on Monday.

That was your wish too.

You didn’t want anyone to know you were sick.

Sleeping most of the day, you were surprised to hear the doorbell much later in the afternoon. This would be the time you would normally just be getting home from school. So, who could possibly expect you to be home right now?

“Akashi-kun…?” You said in surprise. Finding your boyfriend, and his dreamy duel-colored eyes, on the other side of your door.

“Hello darling.” The brilliant red head greeted with a soft smile. As if it was perfectly natural for him to be here. “I heard you were under the weather. So I came to check on you. I also brought a physician to check in on you as well.” You look past Akashi finally to see a nice, older looking gentleman in a white lab coat with a crescent eyed smile.

“Akashi-kun, I already went to the doctor. That’s how I know I’m sick.”

“This doctor is better.” He announced as he saw himself in, with his doctor, and led you over to the couch. “He’s the personal physician for the Akashi family. His credentials are far superior to that of your typical clinic doctor.” You want to say something to him about how it didn’t take ‘superior credentials’ to diagnosis a cold, but Akashi was already positioning you on the couch. He gave you another soft smile before he turned to the doctor with a much cooler look and told him to get to work.

Sure enough, you still have a cold. “Gee, I’m so glad you brought such a brilliant doctor all the way here for me Sei-kun.” You quip sarcastically. Using your familiar nickname now that you were alone.

“Humor me, alright.” He replied. Bringing over the tray of tea he had been busying himself with while the doctor examined you. “I was worried when you didn’t come to school today. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you….” You mutter into your tea cup once he had handed it to you. “I know…you get worried about people you care about being sick, after what happened to your mom. When Kuroko was sick last winter you practically wore a trench in the floor pacing ‘til you knew he was better.” Your fingers run the brim of the tea mug. Soaking up the warmth in your hands as you hold it. “I thought I could get over it before you found out, so you wouldn’t have to be the wiser. I guess that was pretty stupid hn? You always figure everything out.”

Akashi looked at you with a soft expression. Then he leaned in to kiss your warm forehead. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ever say that about yourself.” He told you. “And yes, it’s true. I get worried when people I care about are ill. But more than that I get worried when people don’t tell me things. When my mother was sick, no one told me anything. They said she was fine. Then one day she was just gone. Being in the dark is worse than just knowing the truth. So I must insist that you tell me these things in the future. Ok?”

You smile a little. You can tell he was trying really hard not to make this an order; his orders were absolute after all. But he was trying to make sure that he was kept in the loop in the future. He was worried about you.

You smile a little and snuggle into Akashi’s chest. “Yes kotei-kun.”

Midorama:

Thank God Japan had such strict firearm laws, because if you had a gun right now you’d shot yourself.

Ok, no you wouldn’t. But death would be a sweet blessing over this cold. This 24-hour bug thing hit you hard and hit you fast. Crippling you from a once vibrant human being to a walking corpse in less than a few hours. You sincerely wished that it was only 24 hours.

You hear the doorbell from the kitchen and hope it’s your soup. Too weak to even make your own food, you’d begrudgingly ordered some hot broth in an attempt to eat and keep up your strength.

You open the door to surprisingly find not your soup but Shutoku’s positive point guard standing there. “Takao?”

“Hi [Y/N]-chan!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Shin-chan heard you were sick. So, he wanted to come take care of you.” Holding of a napsack of supplies.

You blink once, looking around to see if you had somehow missed Midorima in your fever fogged mind. “He’s…here?”

“Don’t just stand in the door way and let the cold air in. You’re just going to make your cold worse.”

You blink again and Takao gave an awkward laugh as he scratched the back of his head, before revealing a small green walkie-talkie from his pocket. “He didn’t want to get sick himself.”

A grumble of irritation left your lips. “So Shintaro sent you to do his dirt work, as usual.” Takao laughed again. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t want any second-hand bedside manner, and I’m just going to sleep anyway.”

“Oy! [Y/N]-chan! Don’t be like that!” The dark-haired teen’s hand lanced out to catch the door. Barring you from closing it. “Shin-chan was really worried when you didn’t come to school today. Honest. He does want to help. You just know how he is though. I know it’s not the same as coming up here himself, but he bought all this stuff and wrote down all these instructions for me to help make you feel better.”

You look at the bag Takao had in his hand. It did seem like a lot. Midorima must have gone to several different drug stores to pick it all up and bring it over here. Even if he did stay in the parking lot. You look past Takao down to the ground floor, where Midorima was standing looking up at your apartment. Seeming to wait for you to follow his instructions about going inside but also with that steadfast look he got when he was truly worried about something.

“You just don’t want to go back down there and tell him you failed.” The boy in front of you laughed with an awkward ‘maybe’. “You can’t stay too long. My parents are going to be back after work, and they’re not going to be happy about a boy in my room and another one looking real stalkery in the parking lot.”

“Thanks [Y/N]!” Takao said as you let him in.

“Make sure they take the cold medicine now, before it gets too late. It’s one cap full every 4 hours. Drink some of the green tea I made for you. It’s in the green thermos. The red one is soup.”

“I know how to take medicine Shintaro. And I already ordered food before you got here. It’s on its way so-Wait! Why am I arguing with a walkie-talkie!?!”

Aomine:

You have an absolutely splitting headache. To the point that every time you get up to go to the bathroom and throw up, you check to see if an icepick is somehow lodged in the back of your skull.

Why did you have to get sick today? Aomine was going to kill you for missing his game; even if the outcome was inevitable. His love for basketball was second only to you (and sometimes you weren’t sure about the ranking). So you being at his games was what he loved most of all. If you weren’t there to see him crush whatever team into dust and lead his team to victory, you’d never hear the end of it. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d get in the Zone early on and not even realize you weren’t there. Yeah…that was possible….

You crack your eyes open into painful, narrow slits from under the covers as you realize the pounding you were hearing was not just in your head but at the door. What idiot was banging on your door in the middle of the afternoon?

Steeling yourself to get up and answer the door. You were surprised to find it was your idiot behind the door. Aomine standing there, in his trademark Too warmup suit and equally trademark scowl.

“Aomine? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!”

“I kind of live here.”

Aomine tsked through his teeth with a sneer. “That’s not what I meant, baka! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!”

“Oh….” You blink a little in surprise. What was a good way to tell him that you didn’t think he’d care? “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“It’s not, but you should still tell me about it!” He told you. “I had to hear about it from Satsuki. Do you know how stupid that makes me look if I don’t know that my own s/o is sick?!”

“So are you mad that I didn’t tell you? Or are you mad that I made you look stupid?”

“I’m mad at both!” Aomine yelled. He then seemed to realize he was yelling at a sick person, and his s/o, so he took a breath and calmed down. “Here.”

You look down at the convenience store bag he offered you. Taking it in your hands. “What’s this?”

“Jellies.” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know which flavor you’d like when you’re sick, so I just got a bunch of ‘em.”

You blink at the bag, then up at Aomine. He…got these for you? You can see on his face now that he was angry because he was worried about you. Not that you were going to miss the game, but because he was worried about you. Your beautiful basketball ace was too proud to admit it though. “Thanks.” You said softly, with an equally soft smile.

The ace looked away and rubbed the back of his head while he was at it. “Yeah well, jellies always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid. Figured they’d make you feel better too.”

“I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to keep much down.” Maybe that was TMI, but hey. Relationships weren’t always moonbeams and rainbows. “These will really hit the spot.”

“Well, I got extra red ones in there for you, so crack one open.” Aomine said as he saw himself past you and into your apartment.

“Hold on! You’re eating my present now?! Wait…hang on a minute, aren’t you supposed to be warming up for your game? How are you going to get back in time for starting line up if you’re here now?”

“I’m skipping it.” The blunette answered as if it was obvious. Taking off his windbreaker jacket and throwing it in a chair, before he flopped himself on your couch with his limbs stretched out to take up most of it. “There’s no one strong on that team anyway. So, it’s no fun. Let those other guys put in the work for once. They can’t expect me to carry the team all the time. So annoying….”

You stare at Aomine. Was he really….skipping basketball….to be with you here when you’re sick?

A warm feeling, you’re sure was not your fever this time, spread over you. He really did care, didn’t he?

“You should really put those in the fridge before they get warm. Warm jellies are the worst. I still want a red one though. Maybe two now that I think about it.”

You grumble as the ‘warm feeling’ starts to dissipate. Still harboring in your chest, but certainly less profound than it was a moment ago. “It’s super rude to eat someone’s present when they haven’t even had one of them, Aomine.” You still give him the red ones though.

Kise:

Your kingdom for another box of tissues. At the rate you were running through them, a small rainforest was in serious jeopardy.

If you didn’t feel so cruddy, you’d be more worried about that fact. Right now, however, you just wanted your nose to stop running. You had been sneezing and sniffling all day, and in an effort to not be labelled ‘Typhoid Mary’ chosen to stay home from school. It was the reasonable thing to do. When you were sick.

You finish blowing your nose for the umpth time when your phone rang. You pick it up and answer with a gravely, “hello?”

“[Y/N]-CCHI!!”

You pull the phone away from your ear at the loud, sobbing cry of your name through the phone from your boyfriend. “Kise…don’t yell…”

“[Y/N]-cchi! You’re sick! Why didn’t you tell me?? Kurokocchi had to call me today and tell me!”

Damn Kuroko. That snitch. “Because it’s not a big deal. It’s just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

“But [Y/N]-cchi! You’re all alone with no one to take care of you! I won’t be back til Sunday!” Kise had gotten a modeling job out of town for the weekend. Some ‘on location’ gig for some sea side pics. Poor Kise. He must be freezing. But, those photos needed to be done and printed long in advance before summer time to boost sales.

If you had had to put money on it, you would have thought he would be the sick one: running around half naked on a frozen beach in January. Yet here you were.

“Do you think I just sit in a dark closet, with nobody around, until you show up again Kise?” A dramatic gasp was heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m not ‘alone’ Kise. I mean, I am now, but I have people around me to help if I need it. So you don’t have to worry.”

“But I’m not around to help you!” Kise whined. You can practically hear the broken-hearted boyfriend emoji floating around his head. “Let me at least order you some soup. Soup is what sick people eat right? That place near your house has that chicken ramen you like. Chicken ramen is like chicken soup. That’s what people eat when they’re sick right?? Or maybe you want something else?? What’s another thing that sick people eat?!”

“Ryouta!” You have to yell his first name to get him out of the spiral. You love Kise, but every now and then his boundless energy was annoying. You let out a sigh, and tell him, “yes, you can order me some food. Don’t go overboard.”

Kise perked up. You do kind of wish you could see his smiling face. It was so cute when he did these adorable 180s. He promised not to go overboard before he hung up the phone and ordered you some food. He then immediately called you back to let you know it would be there in 20 minutes, and told you all about his day.

He stayed with you on the phone when your food came, and even after. You watched one of your favorite movies on Netflix party, curled up in your blankets on your bed. If you closed your eyes and focused on the warmth of your blankets & Kise’s soft voice in your ear, it was almost like he was here.

You fell asleep to that feeling. Feeling much better after you woke up and waiting for Kise to come home.

Kuroko:

You toss and turn a little in your sleep, trying to get back to it as you’ve actually woken up and want to sleep more. Rest was the only cure for a cold. And although you were still tired, even though you’d stayed home and slept all day, you were apparently too tired to fall back asleep.

You crack your eyes open. Your vision blurry for a moment before it clears up. Leaving you with a sea of blue in front of you. “Hello [Y/N].”

You let out a surprise shriek, followed by an almost perfect imitation of your boyfriend’s Ignite Pass against his face. “K-Kuroko!” You stammer, as the young man in question tried to recover from the shattering blow you just gave him. “I’m so sorry! What are you doing here?!”

“Your mother let me in.” He replied, words muffled by his hand. He pulled it away to inspect it and seemed to find no blood. That was a relief. You’d feel so bad if you both were down for the count. “I wanted to see you, and bring you your course work for today.”

Ah. So that’s how he got in. You didn’t think your mother would just let a high school boy in your room unsupervised. Also, maybe it was because Kuroko looked so unthreatening. If only she knew. “Thanks. Sorry again.”

“It’s alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a sick person.” He said with a soft smile. His hand reached out to pet your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Still crummy,” you confess, “but on the mend. I’m sure I’ll be back to school on Monday.”

“Good. Everyone at school misses you. Even the senpais were asking about you today.”

“Did you miss me Kuroko?” You ask sheepishly.

To which he got a surprised expression before softening and immediately answering, “yes.”

Your face warmed with something other than a fever, and you pulled your blanket up to your nose. “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“I’ll stay for a little bit longer. Don’t worry. I won’t get sick.”

It was a big fat lie as Kuroko was sick immediately after he left. He really should have known better with his borderline frail physique for anything other than basketball. Still, it was nice to talk to him for a while. And you got to take care of him after you were better, so it was all worth it.

Murasakibara:

‘Just a few more hours. You can do this.’

You keep repeating that to yourself over and over again in your head as you trudge down the hall. Only a few more classes and you could go home to die in peace. Why did you have to have a test today?!

Your penance march comes to a halt when you run into somebody. Looking up you realize it was Murasakibara. “Oh, sorry Mura-kun. I didn’t see you there.” You really must be sick if you hadn’t noticed the tower that was your boyfriend and Yosen center.

“[Y/N]-cchi, you don’t look so good.” The purple haired man drawled.

You frown up at him, not needing to hear that right now. “That’s not very nice to say to your s/o, Mura-kun.”

“But it’s the truth.” He told you. “Honesty is the best policy.” You couldn’t really argue with him there. Besides, you were too weak to argue.

Suddenly your vision was dark. You were worried for a second that you might have blacked out in your sick induced state, but quickly realize that Murasakibara’s large hand was on your face. “Mura-kun, let go.”

“You have a fever.” He replied, completely ignoring your protest. He still let you go, of his own volition, and stood to his full height again. “You need to go to the nurse.”

“No. I need to go to class.” You state in a huff. Batting his hands away in an effective, but weak manner, before walking past him to head just there.

You make it about three steps before Murasakibara grabbed you. Lifting you up in the air with ease and throwing you over his shoulder, in a move that would have made your head spin normally. Not to mention if you had a fever. “Atsushi! Let go!” You shout. Squirming and kicking your legs to no avail.

“No. You need to go to the nurse.” He repeated. Carrying you like a sack of potatoes as he walked down the hall.

“Put me down Atsushi! This is embarrassing! I need to go to class and take my test! It’s important!”

“Nothing is more important that your health.” You stop struggling for a moment as Murasakibara said something actually profound for once. “[Y/N]-cchi needs to take care of themselves, or they’ll just get sicker and get others sick. Tests and silly stuff like school work can wait.”

You grumble and slump down on Murasakibara’s shoulder. It wasn’t like him to be this serious. He also seemed very serious about taking you to the nurse. Nothing seemed capable of deterring him from that path. “Mura-kun, can you put me down? I’ll go to the nurse with you, but this isn’t really comfortable and I can walk on my own.”

He stopped. Then gave you a side ways glance out of the corner of his eye, seeming to not trust you, but still gave in and sat you down. “[Y/N]-cchi is gonna be good?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “I’ll be good.”

He escorted you the rest of the way to the nurses station. Asking if he could have a lollipop, and annoyed when they didn’t have one. What kind of a doctor’s office was this if they didn’t have lollipops, he asked. You’d giggled a little bit and told him to get to class. You’d call him later, since your parents were going to have to pick you up and take you home. You 100% had a fever and were told to go home. Murasakibara pet your head once more before he left to get to class.

The next day, when you were home recuperating, your mother had come into your room with a big candy store bag. “Someone left this big bag of lollipops at the door for you. Do you have any idea who it’s from?”

Kagami:

“I’m really ok Mom….No, it’s not that serious….You really don’t have to come home. Dad either. It’s not the first time I’ve had a cold, and I’m just gonna sleep it off. I’ll be fine by myself…..Yes, I got medicine….No. I’ll be ok. I have a friend from school who’s checking in on me….I love you too. Bye.”

“Your Mom ok?” You look up from the couch when Kagami came up behind it. Handing you a bottle of water for your scratchy sounding throat.

“Yeah. She’s ok. Just worried. She asked if I wanted her to come home, but I told her no.” You hate to admit it but you’re pretty sure it was a hollow gesture. Your parents work was very important. You had learned that early on growing up. They missed certain things in the trade off for having very important, successful careers. One of which was taking care of their child when they were sick.

“You also didn’t tell her it was me who was here. How come?”

“You want me to call her back and tell her we’re playing house?” You ask, with as cheeky of a grin as you can muster being sick. It still got the desired result.

“We’re not playing house!”

“Doctor then?”

Your cute boyfriend turned about as red as his hair, and stalked off back to the kitchen while fluster muttering to himself.

You chuckle a little. Which turned into a coughing fit, so you had to drink a little bit of water.

You and Kagami had initially bonded over being “latchkey kids”. Though your situation was not as severe as Kagami’s, with your parents still being in the country at least, they both traveled for work a lot and were rarely home. They tried to stagger their work trips so you wouldn’t be home alone, but this wasn’t the first time.

This also wasn’t the first time you would be alone when you were sick, if it hadn’t been for Kagami.

“Aren’t you worried you’re going to get sick?” You ask from the living room. Your voice squeaking and squawking the whole time.

“I never get sick.” He replied back confidently. Then rounded the corner with a tray you were 90% sure you did not have in your house before now. “Basketball and eating right keeps me healthy. So, I never get sick. You don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t think eating a dozen cheeseburgers a day counts as ‘eating right’.” You tell him.

Kagami grumbled. Seeming to want to argue or say something, but realizing its bad form to fight with a sick person. Instead, he just sat the tray down in front of you and sat on the couch. “What’s this?”

“Chicken noddle soup,” he replied. “Japan doesn’t have the right noodles. So I had to use soba. But the main part should be the same.”

“You made me chicken soup?”

Kagami tensed for a moment. His face turning hot pink again; possibly from the soft expression on your face or the soft sound of your voice. He turned away, scratching his cheek. “Y-Yeah. Like I said, it’s important to eat right to keep healthy. So…So eat up so you can be at school on Monday. It sucks when you’re not there.”

You smile softly at Kagami, then lean over to give him a peck on the cheek. “You said you never get sick right?” You tell him when he looked at you. His cheeks still pink, but not much pinker than before.

You eat your soup and gush constantly over how tasty it was. Kagami seemed super proud. Cooking and basketball were the two skills he was most proud of, and knowing that you liked something he made made him puff out his chest even more.

After your soup he made you a bowl of ice cream you were also 90% sure you did not have in your house before now and watched a movie.

After that, Kagami said he was going to head home but when he stood up from the couch you hand lanced out and grabbed onto his shirt tail on it’s on. “Could…Could you stay?” You’ll blame the weak sounding tone of your voice on your cold later. “I know I told my mom that I’d be fine on my own but….I really don’t want to be alone.”

The red headed ace blinked, seeming surprised by your confession (that you were also totally going to blame on your cold later). He gave you a soft smile and sat back down on the couch. Pulling you into his arms so you were practically in his lap. “You could have just told me that.”

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chrisevansluv · 3 years ago

Note

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 11

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend?

Word Count: 8.2K (longest one yet)

The next few days flew by in a snowy blur. Most of your time was spent wrapping gifts and packaging baked goods to deliver to family friends. You grunted as you leaned heavily on top of the Tupperware container as you shoved in more sugar cookies. This particular batch was going to Erwin's coach and his family. The sound of wrapping paper tearing made you cringe, turning around you saw Hange holding up the two uneven lengths of paper. She smiled sheepishly at you before shrugging and taping the pieces together once more. Your mom and Erwin were currently out shopping at the mall, which was a good hour away from the hick town you lived in.

You and Hange had already been out shopping the other day. It had been very stressful shopping for all your friends and family. You were glad to have gotten the ordeal over with. Although it was stressful, you had enjoyed picking out the perfect gift for your loved ones. Some highlights included: a camera lense for Armin, a set of chain necklaces for Mikasa, a turkey hat for Sasha, a safari hat for Connie, and your personal favorite was a set of fancy tea cups for Levi.

You really had outdone yourself this year, even going as far as buying Erwin supplies that he would need for College. For Hange you had purchased her a fresh set of glassware for her experiments, since she was majoring in Chemistry and enjoyed doing work outside of the classroom you thought it was a fitting gift. Hange held up her finished product proudly, judging by the size of the box you guessed it was a pair of shoes.

"I can't wait to give these to him!" she gushed as she set the box to the side and began folding a sweater that the two of you had purchased for your mom.

"Yeah I'm sure he'll love them." you agreed. You weren't the only one who had splurged this year. Hange had bought Erwin a fresh pair of cleats for his freshman season at college.

"I hope so!" she chuckled as she boxed the sweater and the pair of earrings for your mom.

"What did you ask for this year?" you asked as you set the stuffed container of cookies to the side.

"Oh nothing special." Hange waved her hand dismissively. You weren't surprised, she wasn't exactly interested in possessions. She valued knowledge above most things, so the closest you could get to filling that need was to give her books or items that helped her learn and shit. You had learned that the hard way, a few years ago you had given her a nice bracelet, which was currently collecting dust on her dresser.

"Well what about your parents, are they doing something special this year?" you inquired, you knew that she had learned to appreciate knowledge from them. They used to go on trips and spend Christmas soaking up the culture of wherever they went. One of their most notable trips was to South America, Hange's favorite trip to date. They hiked in the jungle and learned about the environment and shit.

"Aw sadly no, they wanted to take a break and focus on their research here." She shrugged as she wrapped the box in snowman wrapping paper.

"Really?" you mused, although Hange's family was unconventional you admired their free spirit.

"Yeah, I'm particularly interested in my mom's project, she's studying these penguins in South America right now-" she continued to ramble on about her mother's studies and her father's work. Both of her parents were very active in the zoology community. Hange's rant was cut short by the sound of her phone ringing, she apologized before answering the call, walking out of the room for some privacy. Which you thought was odd, she usually wasn't so private with her phone calls, which at times could be annoying. You brushed it off as most likely being a conversation about gifts. You picked up your phone, taking the opportunity to answer the text that Mikasa had sent you earlier that morning.

"We'll be over around 7." her text made you feel giddy with excitement. Although this year would be a bit different you were still excited to see all your friends.

"See you soon!" you responded, you realized that it was probably a good idea to start dinner for your mom. She should be home any minute but still you set about preheating the oven for the casserole and the ham. Thankfully the Jeagers brought dishes as well, Carla made a mean pumpkin pie. You weren't expecting Kenny to bring anything other than booze. You fell into an easy rhythm as you prepared the vegetable casserole. It couldn't have been more than an hour later that your mom and Erwin stumbled in the door and dropped the bags down by the card table where we had been wrapping gifts. Your mom was quick to wash her hands and start the mashed potatoes as you checked the ham. Hange had began to set the table with Erwin, a christmas playlist had been playing to set the mood.

The Jeagers arrived right at 7, just in time. Grisha's arms were full with gifts, Carla toted two pies, Eren held a board game, and Mikasa had two bottles of red wine with ribbons around the necks of the bottles. Hugs and formalities were exchanged as they entered and put their gifts under the tree. Carla joined your mom in the kitchen to finish carving the ham. You and the other teens finished setting the table as everyone trickled into the dining room.

Just as the ham was placed on the table and glasses of wine were poured, the doorbell rang once more. Kenny had arrived, surprisingly only thirty minutes late. He had a huge bottle of vodka and another sizable bottle of whiskey. Your mom greeted him, taking the liquor from him and pointing him to his seat. Now that all guests were accounted for you began to dish out food and recount the past holidays that your families spent together. It didn't go unnoticed that Kenny was a tad uncomfortable, but thanks to Grisha's easy going nature and Carla's friendliness, he slowly eased up. Of course you and the other teens had your own conversation separate from the adults.

"-Do you remember that one year that I creamed you guys in Just Dance?" Hange gloated as she waved a forkful of ham in Eren's face.

"Ugh yes, but only because that was the year that Mikasa's ankle was sprained." Eren deflected, lifting his own fork to push hers from his face. Mikasa blushed and shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"Well I guess we'll just have to see if that was the real reason after a rematch!" Hange teased before biting into the hunk of meat.

"I guess we will." Eren narrowed his eyes as he watched Hange chew the meat.

"We should play Mario Kart first, I want to redeem myself." Armin was quick to change the subject. Always quick to avoid possible conflict.

"Yeah I totally creamed you last time!" you gloated a cocky smile on your lips.

"W-What! No I had the most wins!" Eren's eyes were alight with anger. He was too easy to piss off.

"Wrong!" you said in a sing song voice.

"Knock it off you two." Erwin scolded from across the table, Eren's cheeks flushed when Erwin scolded him but you simply rolled your eyes. In the last few months Erwin had taken to hovering over you and your friends. It was strange, he had never shown so much interest in your social life until recently. At first you had been eager to tell him what was going on in your friend group, but now it was becoming annoying.

"Lay off Erwin, it's all talk." you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Erwin's eyes hardened at your snarky tone, your guests eyes flickered between the two of you as you glared at one another. Until finally you snorted and looked away with a shake of your head.

"Uh...so who wants pie!" Armin, ever true to his anti confrontation nature filled the thick silence between the teens. Meanwhile the adults had continued to yammer on about all the hot hospital gossip.

"I-I would." Eren played into Armin's excuse to change the subject.

"Yeah sounds good." you sighed, defeated. Armin scrambled out of his seat and ducked into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the pies. He dished out three pieces onto you and Eren's plates before serving himself. By the time he had returned, Hange had already changed the topic to the party the following day. You sat in silence as she rambled about the logistics for the party at your house.

"I think that Nanaba is bringing mac and cheese, Mike is probably going to bring those snicker doodles that he always makes-" You tuned her out, not interested in her current rant. Tomorrow's party wasn't the party you were really excited for. So you instead turned to Mikasa, hoping to talk about your plans for the 26th.

"So what time are you going to Annie's? Would you like to ride together?" you asked as you angled yourself to face her to better tune out Hange.

"We are heading over around 9, and sure I'm driving." Mikasa responded as she stretched to serve herself a piece of pie.

"Perfect, are you spending the night there?" you quizzed, unsure if you also wanted to spend the night there.

"No, we were going to go back to Armin's but I can drop you off here if you want." Mikasa answered as she took a bite of pie.

"Alright that sounds good!" you agreed, knowing that Mikasa was always a reliable designated driver.

Dinner had gone relatively smooth, despite the tension that now hung in the atmosphere between you and Erwin. The rest of the evening was spent in the living room opening gifts with a Christmas movie marathon playing in the background. The Jeagers left around eleven, which was later than they usually stayed. Kenny took the guest bedroom in the basement, since he was spending Christmas day with your family anyway. You checked your phone with a heavy sigh, already it was twelve am. You contemplated texting Levi to tell him happy birthday, but you weren't sure he would be awake. It was already six in the morning in France, and usually he got his three hours of sleep between four and seven in the morning. But you decided that if he didn't answer you could leave him a voicemail or shoot him a text. So after you changed into your pajamas and had snuggled beneath your covers, you pulled up Levi's contact, your thumb hovering over the small phone icon. Finally you just said 'fuck it' and pressed the button, the phone rang three times before he answered.

"Hey." his voice was thick and gravely as he spoke, immediately you felt bad. You knew that you must have woken him up and you cringed internally.

"Hey happy birthday!" you greeted, making sure to keep your voice low so you wouldn't disturb Erwin and Hange.

"Tch thanks." Levi mumbled, you pictured him running a hand down his face as he tried to wake up.

"you're welcome birthday boy." you teased as you fell back onto your pillows.

"shut up." Levi scoffed, you could hear his footsteps as he walked through the apartment, presumably to get his morning cup of black tea.

"you know you love it." you sighed.

"keep telling yourself that." Levi's voice was becoming clearer now that he was more awake.

"I think that I will." you answered with a light laugh.

"you still going to that party tomorrow?" Levi interrogated, you groaned. You had almost forgotten how he liked to stick his nose in your business, even when he was across the fucking ocean.

"Yeah what about it?" you huffed, feeling a bit defensive.

"Shouldn't you stay with your family or some shit." Levi sounded frustrated.

"My mom said I could go." you pouted childishly.

"Whatever." Levi grunted, and you frowned, unsure of where his frustration was coming form.

"Aw come on no need to be jealous, I'm sure you can find some rager in Paris. Not like you'll be missing much here." you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hmph." Levi scoffed, you could hear the tinkling of his spoon as he stirred his tea.

"So....when are you due to be home?" you asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

"Next week." Levi's tone was clipped.

"I'm so jealous." you sighed dreamily.

"Yeah Paris is way better than Shiganshina." Levi responded nonchalantly, you weren't sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. Either way he was telling the truth.

"No need to rub it in my face." you chuckled.

"Tch." He scoffed, you liked to imagine him smiling as he did so, even if he wasn't.

"Well I hope that this next week goes by fast, as much as I hate to admit it I've... missed you." you confessed, the tips of your ears scorching hot with embarrassment. The silence was deafening as you waited for him to say something, hell anything even if it was making fun of you.

"Whatever." he huffed, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at the sound of his baritone voice.

"Just don't stay out late tomorrow." he quipped and you frowned, why did he care how late you stayed out?

"No need to worry about me, I'll probably just stay sober with Mikasa." You told him, only half honest.

"Never said I was worried about you." Levi sighed.

"Hmph fine be like that." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, not surprised with his response.

"Be like what?" He asked, genuinely curious what you meant.

"Like an ass." you quipped.

"Tch I'll quite being an ass when you stop being such a brat." Levi snapped, clearly you were approaching dangerous territory.

"Okay okay chill." you muttered, backing down before things got too heated.

"You're the one that brought it up.." Levi pointed out.

"Yeah and now I'm regretting that" you sighed, wishing he wouldn't be so stubborn for once. He sighed as well and you heard a small clatter on his end of the line, you figured he was starting the dishes.

"Look I've got some shit to do, I'll call you later okay?" Levi's voice was a tad strained and in the moment of silence you heard the sound of Isabel and Farlan bickering in hushed tones.

"Y-Yeah sure of course." you couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"Happy birthday Levi." you wished him once more.

"Thanks, talk to you later brat." and with that he hung up, leaving you totally alone in your dark room. You plugged your phone in and rolled over onto your side, he could be so annoying. You inhaled sharply and decided that you would enjoy the party tomorrow to it's fullest. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

___

"Hey can I borrow your lip gloss?" you asked Mikasa as you leaned forward to apply another coat of mascara to your lashes.

"Sure which one?" she asked as she pulled her hair into high pigtails on top of her head.

"The cherry one." you answered after a moment of contemplation. She finished her hair before reaching into her makeup bag and pulled out the tube of clear gloss.

"Thanks." you said as you took the make up from her. You didn't usually put this much effort into your appearance when you went to parties but you figured since it was the first time you would be going to Annie's that this was a special occasion. Also you had a sneaking suspicion that two of your exes would be there and you at least wanted to look hot if you were going to get black out.

Plus Mikasa was also dressed up, she wore a tight fitting black top with long sleeves and a low cut neck line that showed off her pale collarbones and neck. She had chosen to wear a choker that had metallic studs surrounding the black leather along with some other layered necklaces. To match her top she had selected a red plaid skirt and some torn tights. You weren't dressed nearly as edgy as she was, but you too had gone for a grungier look. You'd opted to wear a tattered pair of mom jeans along with a black cropped tank and an oversized flannel to cover your shoulders.

You sighed as you finished applying the gloss and frowned, Eren and Armin were in the next room over blasting Post Malone. You assumed that Eren was on aux since Armin usually listened to Surfaces or Khalid.

"You ready?" Mikasa asked as she pulled on her Doc Martens and double checked her earrings.

"Yeah." you assured her as you stood up to grab your small backpack with an extra change of comfy clothes in case you ended up staying the night. The two of you left the room and knocked on Eren's door that was down the hall.

"Just a minute!" Armin's shrill voice sounded a bit panicked but Mikasa simply shrugged and headed towards the kitchen. The Jeager's house was a ranch style house with one main floor and a nice basement. The two of you waited patiently in the kitchen for the boys, it was already well past nine. You scrolled through your snapchat, most of the stories were the regular group picture of friends having a sleepover, the druggie kids showing off their weed, and of course Sasha and Connie posted a video showcasing the house party at Annie's. From what the short video showed, her house was dark except for some LED lights that flashed through multiple different colors. The music was deafening, and the kids that you could see seemed to be swaying to the pulsing music.Sasha spun the camera around as she knocked back a shot with her arm around Connie who blew a puff of vapor at the camera.

"Looks fun." Mikasa scoffed, you knew that she preferred more low-key parties.

"If you end up not liking it we can always dip." You shrugged, knowing that this wasn't exactly your speed either. Mikasa hummed in agreement and turned to look down the hallway as Eren's door opened. The boys emerged from Eren's room, Eren wore a pair of black jeans and a dark forrest green long sleeved shirt. Armin wore a baby blue knit sweater with a collared shirt underneath and black jeans as well.

"All set?" Mikasa asked as she turned to pull out a bottle of titos with a cute little sweater over it. You smiled at the cute accessory and nodded.

"Yep!" you said popping the p as the four of you all made your way out to Eren's car. You slid into the back seat next to Armin who was fiddling with the hem of his sweater nervously. Eren resumed his hype music as Mikasa backed out of the drive way. Eren pulled out his puff bar as soon as the car was out of the drive and took a long drag. Mikasa scoffed and cracked the window for him. He blew the billow of smoke out the window and reached to turn the music up. He reached back and dangled the puff for you to take, after a brief moment of hesitation you accepted it and cracked your window before taking a hit. Armin watched with wide eyes as you inhaled and blew the vapor out the crack.

"Since when did you vape?" Armin asked, his mouth agape in awe.

"I don't...at least not regularly." You admitted sheepishly.

"That's what they all say." Eren chuckled, smoke curling out from his lips as he smirked.

"Shut up I'm serious!" you snapped a playful smile on your face. Thankfully Annie's house wasn't far away, about a twenty minute drive. You pulled up to the house, it was huge. Standing at least three stories tall, with a long winding driveway. Mikasa pulled up behind one of the many cars in the drive way and parked the car. Mikasa led the way around to the side door, which was unlocked, piled of shoes littered the hallway. The sound of loud music greeted you as you walked into the kitchen on the main floor to set the alcohol you'd brought down. The real party was in the basement.

The lights were off, leaving the only source of light to be the flickering LED lights, you couldn't even tell who was who. The air was heavy with the mingling aromas of cologne, vapes, and weed. Armin practically clung to you as the four of you waded through the crowd to get to the seating area in the center of the room. As you got closer the overpowering scent of weed assaulted your nose. There on the large L shaped couch was Annie, she held a large bong to her lips as Bertolt held the lighter under the weed, she inhaled deeply and the bong bubbled. She pulled back and blew a puff of smoke right in Reiner's face, the blonde's face scrunched up in disgust as he turned away to cough.

"Yo." Annie greeted Mikasa who leaned down to dap her up. Once Annie had greeted Mikasa she turned her attention to Eren who was eyeing the bong.

"You want a drag?" Annie offered, patting the sofa next to her. Eren nodded and dropped down between her and Bertolt, who once again struck the lighter for Eren. Mikasa rolled her eyes and waited patiently for Eren to finish his drag. Once the bong was out of the way she lowered herself down onto his lap and pulled her puff bar out to take a long drag. Armin shifted awkwardly behind you and tugged on your sleeve.

"Want to go get something to drink?" he yelled over the booming music, you glanced at the bong longingly but decided that Armin needed you right now so you nodded in agreement.

"Sure." the two of you pushed through the crowd to the minibar where an impressive amount of liquor was waiting. You poured some Bacardi into a glass of and added some pineapple and orange concentrates before handing the cup to Armin. He thanked you and quickly got to work on finishing the mixed drink. You poured yourself a rum and coke and then two shots of Malibu for you and Armin to take. The two of you knocked back the shots before wandering back over towards the couch. The crowd had thinned out a bit, something about watching a movie in Annie's in home movie theater.

"-No that's bullshit, I know for a fact that you pissed your pants in the second grade Eren!" your eyebrows shot into your hairline at the words leaving Annie's mouth.

"Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I don't notice shit." She huffed as she lifted the juul in her hand to her lips and took a long drag.

"I-"

"Just take the L Eren we all remember." Bertolt shook his head and chuckled at Eren's flushed cheeks. You glanced at Mikasa, usually she would defend Eren but she seemed content to let him struggle through this one on his own, still perched on his lap.

"We've all had accidents before." Armin said with an awkward chuckle as he sat down beside Annie, who looked at him with a blank expression.

"Like that time you tripped down the stairs and broke both your legs in fourth grade?" Annie quipped, a small smirk curling onto her lips. You choked on your drink at Annie's remark, she was an absolute savage.

"Exactly..." Armin flushed, lifting his own cup to his lips. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you were too invested in the conversation to be bothered to pick it up.

"Want a hit?" Annie offered the bong to you, you nodded. Although you'd never had weed before, you'd tried asking Levi for some of his but he always denied you. Annie held her hand out to Bertolt who placed the lighter in his open palm. She packed some more weed into the bowl before handing you the bong.

"You ever done this before?" She asked as she kneeled in front of you. You shook your head,

"Okay so I'll tell you when to inhale, and you've got to take a huge breath so you can get the smoke in your system. But then you'll have to take another breath to get it in your lungs." she instructed as she pressed the weed deeper into the bowl.

"Okay." you agreed, she nodded and struck the lighter, holding the flame over the weed in the bowl. You pressed your lips to the mouth piece and waited for her instructions.

"Inhale." she said once the weed was lit. You sucked in a big breath and the water in the bong bubbled. The smoke burned the insides of your throat as you inhaled it, you pulled the bong off your mouth and sucked in once more to get the smoke into your lungs. She nodded in approval as you coughed, smoke curling out of your mouth.

"Not bad for your first time." she commented as she took the bong from you and passed it to Mikasa who took a long drag before passing it to Bertolt.

"Thanks, that stuff burns." you coughed, Annie sat down next to you on the couch and draped her arm over the back. You felt the buzz from the weed and the shots you'd taken earlier, making your head spin a bit. Annie's thigh brushed against your own, you tried to focus on what she was wearing, a pair of grey sweats and a cute cropped peachy colored tank top with spaghetti straps.

"I like your top." you complimented, her hand fell from the back of the couch to your shoulders.

"Thanks." she said, turning to gauge your reaction to her touch. You swallowed a bit nervously, you'd known Annie since kindergarten, but you'd never really been friends before, she was always so quiet.

"I always thought you were a good kid." Annie smirked, her eyes a bit playful.

"What made you think that?" You giggled, shuffling closer to her.

"Your brother is like the school's golden boy, and you are always in all the honors classes." she shrugged, you frowned. You were used to people coming up with these assumptions. She was right though, you did take honor classes, but that didn't mean you couldn't party!

"I guess...But that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy partying." you countered.

"I suppose." she chuckled, taking a hit from her juul and blowing the smoke away from your face. Your phone rang in your pocket and you frowned, as you dug it out of your pocket. Your frown deepened at the sight of Hange's contact lighting up your screen.

"Hang on I should take this." you apologized, moving to stand up to find a quiet place to answer the phone. Annie snatched your wrist and pulled you back down on the sofa, the room spun as you fell back down and slumped against her shoulder.

"Slow down there sweetheart." Annie chuckled as you leaned against her.

"I got to go answer my-"

"Nah just stay here, enjoy yourself." Annie pulled you closer, but your head was too foggy to protest, thoughts of your phone already fading into the back of your mind as Annie held the bong to your lips once more.

"She's still not answering." Hange chewed on her knuckle as she glanced at Erwin who was gripping the steering wheel. His brows were knit tightly together with worry, Levi shifted in the back seat, tapping his fingers impatiently.

"This is stupid, she can wait until tomorrow to see me." Levi huffed, trying his best to sound indifferent.

"Oh don't say that Levi." Hange frowned as she looked back at Levi, her eyes deep with worry.

"Don't worry about it." Levi grunted, turning his attention back to his phone. He opened snapchat, and scrolled through the stories. His eyes widened slightly when he stopped on Sasha's story, the video of the party played, he found himself looking for your silhouette among the swaying bodies. He tapped on his screen, expecting to move on to the next story, only to find a new video, added to her story less than ten minutes ago. A video of you with a red solo cup in one hand, and a juul in the other. You were leaned up against a blonde girl who was pushing a bottle of Pink Whitney against you, the pink alcohol sloshing in the glass.

"Come on (Y/n) finish it off!" Sasha encouraged as the other kids on the couch picked up on her chant.

"Finish it, Finish it." the crowd cheered as you sat down the cup and took the bottle from the blonde. You looked at the camera as Sasha shuffled closer.

"No pa-paparazzi please." you giggled, hiccuping half way through your sentence. You lifted the bottle to your lips and tilted your head back, the liquid spilled down your front, making your skin glisten in the colorful lights as you chugged the alcohol you managed to get in your mouth.

"Fuck yeah!!!" Sasha jeered, spinning the camera around to her face. The video ended and Levi felt his blood boil. He'd never seen you so out of it before and he hated it. He hated how easily you had given into doing something so stupid, he hated the sight of the juul in your fist, he hated the way the girl's arm was tightly wrapped around your waist, but most of all he hated that he wasn't there.

"Wait, I think Sasha's snap map is on." Hange mumbled, her phone screen casting a pale glow over her glasses as she zoomed in on Sasha's bitmoji. Sure enough Sasha's bitmoji was on the map, surrounded by at least twenty other bitmojis gathered in one location.

"Okay let's head that way then." Erwin sighed as he started the car and backed out of his parking spot in the airport parking lot. Erwin pulled out of the small airport that was about thirty minutes away from your town and set off towards Annie's house. Thankfully Annie lived on the outskirts of town so it wasn't as far of a drive. It wasn't long before Erwin was pulling up a long winding drive that was full of cars. He parked at the back of the line of cars and got out of the car with a heavy slam of his door. Levi slammed the back door of the minivan as hard as he could, the two of them marched up the driveway silently with Hange following nervously.

"You guys please slow down it's icy out here." Hange begged as she slipped on one of the steps to the side door. The three of them piled into the house, Hange knew it was bad when Levi didn't bother to kick his shoes off before continuing towards the basement steps. Erwin stormed down the steps, the music getting louder as they descended. Erwin paused at the bottom of the steps to take in the scene, cups littered the floor, the room was hazy with smoke from juuls and the scent of weed clung to the air. A group of partygoers was crowded onto the couch, Levi's eyes narrowed onto the back of your head.

"Yoooo that's ice cold." Eren's loud voice could be heard over the music as the teens passed the bong between one another.

"No it's the truth." you slurred, the empty bottle of alcohol still in your fist.

"Well sorryyy that I forgot that I had gum in my mouth." Connie said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"You're an idiot." Sasha laughed boisterously as she shoved a handful of pretzels into her mouth.

"damn straight." Annie agreed, taking the empty bottle from you and setting it on the coffee table. Erwin stalked across the room and stood behind Bertolt, who was now on the floor. The conversation came to a halt at the sight of the uninvited guests.

"Woah I think I'm seeing things." you said, tilting your head downwards as you tried to understand why you were seeing your brother.

"Me too." Reiner agreed, his own distant gaze honing in on his team captain.

"Get up we're going home." Erwin's voice was cold and commanding as he glowered at you.

"I don't wanna leave." your eyes hardened with denial. Erwin stepped over Bertolt, once he had moved your eyes landed on Levi, who was glaring at you with those dark eyes.

"I'm definitely seeing things." you grunted as Erwin pulled you off the couch and away from Annie's warmth.

"Hey man she said she didn't want to go." Annie snarled, jumping to her feet, her icy blue eyes sharp.

"Yeah well she's drunk as shit and doesn't know what she's saying." Levi snapped back at Annie, who had a hand clamped down around your arm. Hange shifted nervously behind the couch as she watched the scene unfold.

"You need to leave." Annie growled, pointing a finger at the stairs.

"That's what we're trying to do dumb ass." Levi growled, taking a step closer to the circle of teens.

"Leave her alone she can make her own decisions." Reiner quipped, rising to his own feet.

"Stay out of this Braun." Erwin ordered, releasing you so he could turn and face Reiner.

"I'm just saying, she chose to come here on her own and she's enjoying herself so let her be." Reiner shrugged.

"She's had enough tonight." Erwin countered, shifting his gaze back to you as you swayed on your feet.

"No I haven't" you frowned up at Erwin.

"Yes you have. We're leaving end of discussion." he said with finality, once more reaching for your wrist.

"I'm not leaving Erwin." you protested, pulling yourself free from his grasp. He snatched your wrist once more and tugged you away from the circle. You gasped and stumbled after him, the protests of your friends echoing loudly in your head. Erwin hauled you up the stairs and out the side door, Levi and Hange close on your heels. He only slowed once you were walking down the driveway. You wrenched yourself free once more with a strangled cry.

"I said I don't want to leave!" you screamed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

"You always embarrass me in front of my friends just give me this one night!" you cried, the cold air making your face beet red.

"You'll thank me later." He said simply before turning to continue down the driveway.

"No I won't I'm going back inside." you turned on your heel and marched back towards the door, only for Levi to catch your wrist.

"You've had enough for one night." He scolded as you struggled against his hold. Hange chewed on her bottom lip with worry at the sight, this was not how she planned your reunion.

"Levi let me go." you said with finality as you met his eyes.

"No, you're going home." Levi's voice was tense.

"No I'm not."

"(Y/n) you're going home and that's final." Erwin sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. You spun around and glared at him.

"You're not my fucking dad Erwin so quit acting like it! Jesus it's so annoying I'm tired of it!" you screamed, your chest heaving with frustration, your breath coming out with puffs of vapor. Hange and Levi stood deathly still, knowing that the topic of your father was a sensitive one.

"Fine be that way." Erwin snarled and marched to the van and climbed in with a slam of his door. Hange rushed to get in the car without a second glance over her shoulder. Levi remained firmly rooted to the ground, his hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist as you cried.

"Get out of here Levi." you sobbed, shaking your arm to throw his hand off. He finally let you go, his head tilted down to the ground. You huffed, wrapping your arms around your chest before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the house. Levi stood there a moment longer just listening to the sound of your receding footsteps before he padded back to Erwin's car and slid into the backseat.

Your head was spinning as you pressed your back against the bathroom door, your lip quivering as you tried to contain your tears. You knew that you'd hurt both Erwin's and Levi's feelings, you also knew that they were only trying to help you. But there was only so much help you could except from them without them toeing the line between helpful and overbearing. You slid down the door with a whimper, you hugged you knees to your chest and rested your chin on top of them. A knock startled you out of your moping,

"(Y/n)? You in there?" You groaned when you recognize Jean's voice.

"Open the door please." He said softly and you felt more tears fall down your cheeks as you reached up for the knob to unlock the door. The lock clicked and you shuffled to lean agains the wall so he could open the door.

"Hey" he said as he stuck his head in, his amber eyes soft with worry.

"Hey" you sniffled, turning your head up to meet his gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asked, slipping into the small bathroom and closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of you, his elbows propped on his own knees as he got onto your level.

"Well for starters, you kissed someone else when we were talking." you said a bit venomously. He cringed and plopped down to sit criss cross applesauce instead.

"I'm sorry I know that I shouldn't have done that but, I've been really confused....like sexually I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and your frowned.

"I know, but it still hurt my feelings." you mumbled, a few fresh tears falling from your watery eyes.

"I shouldn't have led you on like that, it was a real jerk move." Jean agreed, his eyes still soft and comforting. You'd missed being his friend you realized as you sat on the cold tile.

"I've missed talking to you." you spoke your mind, managing a small smile.

"Me too, let's be friends again?" he proposed, offering his hand to you. Your smile grew wider as you extended your own hand to grasp his. You shook hands briefly.

"So are you and Marco a couple now?" you asked.

"Sort of.." Jean chuckled.

"You want to go back to the party now?" He asked, jutting a thumb towards the door. You nodded, although now you were beginning to sober up. He stood and offered his hands to help you to your feet. You accepted his hands and he pulled you to your feet. The two of you walked slowly down the steps to rejoin the circle of teens in the living room. Jean stopped at the bottom of the stairs his hand held loosely in your own. He squeezed your hand, asking for your attention. You turned and faced him, a questioning look on your face.

"You've got some-" He chuckled, lifting his thumb to his mouth and licking it before wiping away some rogue mascara off your cheeks. You gasped in mock offense as he wiped away the makeup.

"You're not my mom." you teased, pulling your face free as you turned to head back into the fray, trusting that Jean got all the black marks off your face.

"Nobody could replace Angie." Jean agreed as he followed you into the basement. The group of previously rowdy teens was now subdued due to your brother and his meddling party crasher friends.

"Hey look who's back!" Reiner greeted, causing all the heads to turn back to you. You smiled sheepishly and dropped back into your seat next to Annie.

"You alright?" She asked, her eyes scanning you meticulously for any signs of injury.

"Yeah I'm- I'll be alright." you stumbled over your words as the group watched you carefully.

"You want a uh beer or something?" Connie asked, lifting up an unopened can.

"No she doesn't you idiot!" Sasha snapped, elbowing Connie harshly.

"Ow well I was just trying to make her feel better!" Connie cried, turning to tackle Sasha. The two began to tussle, rolling around on the floor grunting as they struggled. You smiled, the pair never failed to make you happy. Annie draped her arm over you again as the boys began to place bets on who would come out victorious.

"If Sasha wins you've got to drink one of Connie's mixed drinks!" Eren said, leaning over to Bertolt who scoffed, his boyish features contorting with disgust. Connie was known for making the worst mixed drinks.

"You're on Jeager." he reached over Reiner and the two shook in agreement before turning their attention to the scuffle.

"Come on Sasha!" Eren jeered as Sasha bit down hard on Connie's hand. The boy yelped and tried to desperately pry her locked jaws off his hand. He gave up quickly and resorted to hitting her head with his closed fist, his face wild with panic.

"Tickle her neck" Mikasa suggested as she lifted a red solo cup to her lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, Mikasa usually kept quiet during these scuffles, unless of course it was Eren being thrown around. Connie's free hand flew down to Sasha's armpit and immediately Sasha released his other hand to roll away from him. Connie regained the upper hand, pinning Sasha beneath him as he tickled her ruthlessly. Jean groaned and slapped a wad of bills into Reiner's open palm as Sasha slapped the ground in defeat. Connie threw his hands into the air and rolled off Sasha who was fighting for breath.

"Traitor" she moaned, her brown eyes glaring at Mikasa who shrugged indifferently. Eren groaned and frowned at Mikasa.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked as Bertolt looked relieved. Mikasa shrugged once more a sly smile on her face as Eren pushed her off his lap.

"So" Connie jumped to his feet and clapped his hands together.

"About that drink." he turned and strutted over to the mini bar, followed by a sulking Eren and a smug Bertolt. You turned to Sasha who was now straddling Mikasa her hands around Mikasa's shoulders as she jostled the girl.

"Come on Mikasa why'd you sell me out like that?" she whined as she shook the girl, Mikasa's drink sloshing in her cup. Mikasa smiled as her eyes drifted to the group of boys, Connie had a large bottle of Tito's and a two liter of Mt. Dew in his hands as he inspected the two, his face scrunched up with concentration.

"Come on Sasha it's not like you wouldn't do the same if it were me." Mikasa scoffed with a roll of her eyes. You snorted at Mikasa's response, knowing that she was indeed correct. Sasha gasped and shook Mikasa harder.

"I would never do that to you! Besides you would win in any fight you fought." Sasha objected, leaning back on Mikasa's lap her arms extended.

"Psh whatever." Annie scoffed, a playful smirk on her lips.

"Not all of us are masters at kickboxing." Sasha pouted as she climbed off Mikasa's lap and dropped onto the empty space next to her. You knew that Mikasa had participated in the sport for the past few years, but you were confused when Sasha looked between Annie and Mikasa.

"What you didn't know?" Annie asked with a smirk. You shook your head,

"No I guess I don't know." you laughed as Annie licked her lips and she threw her arm back over your shoulders.

"Mikasa and I are on the same kickboxing club." She shrugged as you settled back into her side. Your mouth opened into an 'o' shape in realization as Annie dug her juul out of her pocket and took a hit. Mikasa nodded in agreement, her eyes shifting back over to the boys, who were laughing loudly as Eren chugged a cup of mystery liquid.

"Really? I had no idea." you said as you followed Mikasa's gaze. Eren was now leaned over gagging as Armin patted his back with a worried expression.

"-You dodged a bullet there!" Reiner quipped as he patted Bertolt's back as the tall boy watched with a disgusted face.

"Hey where did Ymir and Krista run off to?" Sasha asked, whipping her head around to look for the pair.

"Probably making out in some corner." Reiner scoffed as he dropped back onto the sofa, the rest of the boys rejoining the group as well. You nodded in agreement, it was no secret that the pair had been seeing each other recently.

"Guess so." Sasha sighed, slumping back into the sofa, throwing a glare at Connie who was now seated next to her with an arm over the back of the couch. Eren and Armin were the only once unaccounted for, you assumed that they had fled to the bathroom given the state Eren had been in after drinking Connie's concoction. Jean had managed to slip away with all the commotion, probably to return to Marco. Annie sighed, glancing at her phone with a frown, it was well past three at this point and you were starting to feel the fatigue.

"Well I think that I'm heading off to bed." Annie yawned, the others seemed to be mellowing out as well.

"You guys can crash here or my brother's room is open as well as my sisters rooms." She said as she stood up. You immediately missed her warmth as she lingered by the couch.

"I call Eric's room!" Sasha perked up, also standing up to run towards Annie's younger brother's room.

"No fair!" Connie yelled, giving chase. Mikasa sighed and stood up as well.

"I'd better go check on Eren and Armin." She mumbled as she stalked off towards the bathroom.

"Are you staying the night then?" Annie asked you as you also stood up, not sure if you should go after Mikasa.

"I'm not sure, Mikasa was going to take me back to her place..."

"You can sleep in my room with me." She offered, tilting her head towards the stairs. You bit your lip as you weighed your options. Mikasa had been drinking and smoking and you knew that she wasn't stupid enough to drive so you figured that you weren't leaving any more.

"We'll sleep in Sarah's room." Reiner said as he and Bertolt began to retreat up the stairs. Leaving just you and Annie in the basement living room, she raised a brow as she waited for your answer.

"No pressure." She said as she began to walk towards the stairs.

"Yeah I'll sleep with you." you blurted as you jogged to catch up to Annie. She smirked at your wording and you flushed.

"Not like that!" you slapped her arm as she led the way up to the top floor which was a maze of closed doors. She slipped into one of the closed doors, into a large bedroom with a queen sized bed in the center of the room. She emptied her pockets before climbing into bed, pulling the covers back for the both of you. You slid into the open side and sat your phone on the bedside table. Annie sighed with relief as she nestled into the covers, scrolling through her phone as you closed your eyes in an attempt to sleep. After a few minutes Annie put her phone down and rolled over, now her front was facing your back.

"You awake?" She whispered, you rolled over to face her as well.

"Yeah" you answered, resting your head on your arm as you focused on her features as best as you could in the dim lighting.

"You wanna make out?" she asked, your eyes widened in shock. You weren't sure if she was being serious or not.

"For real?" you blinked rapidly as Annie shuffled closer and pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

"I mean yeah." she huffed a shy smile on her face. You pursed your lips in thought, you had never kissed a girl before, and it wasn't like the thought of doing so had never crossed your mind. You shrugged and leaned slightly into her touch.

"Yes or no." She said as she propped herself up on her elbow so she was looking down on you.

"Sure." you agreed, she leaned down as soon as the words left your lips. Her lips were so soft compared to the boys that you'd kissed in the past. Her hand that had been in your hair now traced over your cheek bones as she licked your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for her to slip her tongue in, the taste of weed and pink whitney mingling on her breath. You met her tongue a bit timidly as she licked your bottom teeth. She pulled back after a moment to readjust herself so that she was now laying down on top of you, caging you in her arms as she leaned down to kiss your chin.

"You're so cute." she mused, her lips pressed against the corner of your mouth.

"You're really pretty" you breathed as her lips hovered over your own once more before connecting her lips with yours once more.

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Yours - pt. 03 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: A chapter of firsts.

A/N: This chapter is like 5.5k words so I apologize in advance for that.

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

▽ △ ▽ △

-First Thanksgiving-

“You know what would be even better than seeing my family for Thanksgiving?” Rafe attempted, sitting at the wrap around counter on his laptop, trying to finish the last of his work before the inevitable holiday dinner you were hosting happened. 

“Is the answer, not seeing your family?” You asked, looking over at him. 

When Rafe’s dad had extended the invitation for Thanksgiving, for the first time since Rafe started paying his own bills, he knew exactly what the intention was. Despite the show at Christmas of a gift arriving to his apartment the only people he kept in touch with besides friends from back home were his sisters. Sarah less than Wheezie but they’d come a long way from when they were teens. And with Wheezie back home during her year off from school, he knew that Rose had no doubt seen his Instagram. Notably, the pictures of you that had begun to literal his once scarce feed. 

And just like that, out of nowhere, Ward called with the great idea that everyone get together for the holidays. 

“Thanksgiving.” Rafe has offered, “you can come up to Boston, we’ll host.” It was an olive branch. A tiny one, barren too, more like a twig but it was something and Ward took it because he was curious. 

Rafe had gotten a job with an economist firm right out of college and two years later he had completely cut his father out of his life. The firm was the reason he was in Boston, they offered him three locations, Los Angeles, which felt too far away from his sisters, Chicago, too windy, and Boston. He’d taken the job and bought an apartment that looked like something out of an ad for Restoration Hardware, sleek and modern. Cut the toxic parts of his family off and now it’d all seemingly paid off. 

When you placed the last dish on the table, thirty minutes from his family’s arrival, Rafe spun his barstool around so he could grab your waist and pull you back into him. 

“I could use the nap right now, honestly.” You admitted, leaning back against him. Rafe kissed the side of your head, hands brushing up the sides of your yoga pants, trying to find skin without looking. You’d started your pursuit of the perfect Martha Stewart approved Thanksgiving with a sweatshirt on, but that and the shirt beneath it had eventually been shed and tossed over the back of Rafe’s couch in favor of just your yoga pants and sports bra. Your anxiety had a habit of making you warm. 

“My dad and Rose won’t be here for like, thirty minutes, go relax.” He offered, loosening his hold on you when you twisted around in his arms so that you could face him. 

“I don’t have time, I still have to get dressed.” You mumbled, face pressed into his shirt. 

In all honesty, you weren’t sure you could’ve relaxed anyway. Ever since Rafe had told you his dad and step-mom were coming up for Thanksgiving with his sisters you had been internally freaking out. A meeting the family holiday wasn’t something you had never done before. You’d met Ian’s family at a Christmas dinner the first year that you’d dated. But that had been a dinner you simply showed up to, not one you put on yourself. 

This was your dinner, that you made from scratch, in Rafe’s apartment. It was your first real holiday together aside from the Halloween party you’d forced him to attend at Nina’s and now you were entertaining his family too.

“Things are moving really fast huh?” Nina had teased, standing over the bar cart in her small apartment, trying to remember how to mix a vodka martini. 

“Not...really fast.” You replied. Nina had been bugging you about the pace of your relationship for a while now, acting like it was so out of the ordinary that you had swapped structured date nights for take out at his apartment or yours. 

“You guys have already hit pre-moving-in-together stage.” Nina supplied, “trying to beat Anya out for a wedding this year?” 

“I’m not trying to beat anyone out?” You knew you sounded defensive but you couldn’t help it. “Can we please talk about something else?” 

“Too late,” she laughed, taking a sip of her finished concoction before grimacing. She looked over your shoulder, “do you know how to make a martini?”

“Afraid not.” Rafe replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you a little closer to him. He had agreed to Halloween at Nina’s because he wanted to spend the night with you and this party was a stipulation of that. He was dressed as Tom Cruise in Top Gun, something you had teased him about relentlessly from the moment he put on the costume but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look insanely hot in the get up. Especially now that the small apartment had gotten so crowded and overheated that he’d slipped off the top of the coveralls and had them tied at his waist with just a white tank on. 

“What’re you good for then?” You joked, laughing when he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to your neck. “Stop!” 

“Do you want one of whatever this is?” Nina asked, holding her drink out to Rafe. 

“I would but I actually came over here to steal my girlfriend.” He replied, attention moving from Nina to you, “I’ve got a meeting in the morning, I should head out.” 

“Okay,” you moved out of his hold to say goodbye to Nina, giving her a hug and trying not to let her slosh any of her martini on you. 

“No, stay!” Nina insisted, a bit whiny from tipsiness. 

“I‘ll text you tomorrow,” you promised, pulling away from her, already reaching your hand out for Rafe’s. You felt him take your hand, glancing back and smiling at him before giving Nina a kiss on the cheek, “love you, bye.” 

“Love you!” She called as Rafe pulled you away to the door. 

Once in the elevator you let out a breath, squeezing Rafe’s hand gently to get his attention. “Sorry, you could’ve stayed.” He finally said. 

“It’s okay, besides,” you replied, leaning against him and wrapping your arms around his waist, “I have off tomorrow and I know for a fact that your meeting is a zoom conference that’s like, an hour.” 

“That’s true,” Rafe said, nodding and grinning.

“So, I can bother you the rest of the day.” 

Wheezie and Sarah had been on zoom plenty of times while you were around and Sarah had even come up to Boston for her birthday a few weeks into you dating Rafe so it wasn’t his sisters that you were sweating. Ward and Rose were both pretty imposing. You weren’t impressed with their wealth or intimidated by it. You had grown up in a similar environment to Rafe but your parents had never felt quite as cold as his. 

“At least there’s alcohol,” Sarah teased, coming up beside you to pour herself a glass of wine. Her own boyfriend had opted out of Thanksgiving with her family to stay down in the Outer Banks and you were a little jealous he didn’t have endure this. 

“Thank god,” you replied, taking a sip of the only red wine you didn’t absolutely hate. A sweeter red from a subscription box that one of Rafe’s friends had gotten him for Christmas once and that he kept up with. 

Dates to fancy restaurants hadn’t been scraped altogether but they were usually reserved for dinners that included more that you and Rafe. You didn’t need over priced food and dry wine to be impressed by him and he certainly enjoyed just hanging out without all the pressure. But apparently fancy restaurants and the wine they served in them was exactly what Rose was looking for. 

“My god, you can taste the sugar in this. It’s like grape juice.” She complained, lips pursing at the unwelcomed flavor. 

“Drink something else then.” Rafe replied, annoyed that he was even putting himself through this. And that he was putting you through this too. He knew you were stressing about Thanksgiving. You’d been back from the wedding for a week, and things between the two of you had been better than before (though before they’d been pretty fantastic too), and now he was subjecting you to his family.

“Well if there was anything here that was drinkable,” Rose snapped, glaring at her stepson, “I would.”

“How’s business been?” Ward asked, drawing Rafe’s attention away from Rose and her scrutiny.

You tuned out their chatter in favor of listening to Wheezie talk about her current endeavors, which sounded a lot more pot driven then anything else. Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail with a group of friends to “discover her inner self” was not quite the Wheezie you had heard stories about but Rafe had told you plenty of times that his youngest sister’s new girlfriend was a bit of an irresistible influence. Whether that was good or bad was still to be determined.

“What about you?” Rose asked, interrupting her daughter’s novel-length plans.

“What about me?” You repeated. You knew what the question meant and you certainly expected it. Rafe had an incredibly good job for a guy his age. He was smarter than his family gave him credit for, more responsible than anyone expected, and then here you were, and sure, you made a delicious apple pie but that didn’t qualify you to be party of them.

“What do you do?”

“I teach first grade.” You replied, not as impressive as being an economic analyst for a firm that had offices in Los Angeles, Chicago, Beijing, and Boston but it was yours and you loved it.

Rose, clearly, did not, as evidenced by the way she grimaced at you. As if you were worse than the wine she had finally abandoned on the counter. “What age is that?”

“Usually 6 or 7 year olds.” You replied. “There’s two first grade classes in my school and then two in the other three schools in our sort of, district. I teach my class but I’m also in charge of helping to finalize curriculum for all the other first grades.”

“Sounds like a lot of stress and not a lot of money.” Rose replied. “You must be grateful to have found someone so financially secure.”

The implication was there, and loud enough that the end of Rafe’s sentence teetered off as he turned away from the conversation with his father to look over at his stepmom. She had, in so many words, called you a gold digger, right there at Thanksgiving dinner and you hadn’t even sat down to eat the meal yet. If you knew Rafe, and at this point you certainly did, he was itching to say something. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, he wasn’t living under his dad’s roof or dependent on their money, he finally could say something and he looked ready to.

But you wanted to at least have some sort of dinner so you attempted to speak up before he could, “actually, I make a fairly comfortable salary and-”

“You don’t have to justify anything to her.” Rafe said, “she’s just never met anyone who actually works for a living.”

“I am one of the top real estate agents in the Outer Banks, do you know how many houses I closed on last year?” Rose snapped, looking toward her step-son and her husband.

“Rose, please, let’s just sit and eat.” Ward commented. His attempts at keeping the peace were all for show. Everything he said seemed to have some sort of edge behind it. As if he’d worded it just right to compliment and insult at the same time.

You sat beside Rafe once you’d served the dinner, staying between him and Sarah so you didn’t wind up anywhere near his parents. Wheezie dominated most of the dinner conversation talking about some guy who was doing podcasts from salvation mountain because he believed that he could commune with the “ancestors of America”.

“Please tell me your sister is high right now.” You whispered, leaning close to Rafe.

“Oh yeah, high as a kite.” He replied, “think she’ll give us some?”

“That’s just what we need.”

Rafe leaned closer, lips practically brushing your ear as he whispered, “It’ll be fun, kick everyone out, get high, have sex.”

“No.” You bit your lip to stop from laughing when he kissed just behind your ear, “now eat your food.”

“Is Fivel here?” Wheezie asked suddenly, interrupting her own story when she remembered your dog. She’d seen him on facetime enough that she had been dying to meet the black lab.

“What is a Fivel?” Ward asked, looking at you and Rafe.

“He’s my dog. He’s in Rafe’s bedroom, I didn’t want him messing up the table or anything before anyone arrived.” You explained, turning back to Wheezie, “I have to walk him after dinner if you want to come?”

“Yes.”

Rafe had told you, the first time he met your dog, that his father never allowed pets of any kind when they were kids. Not even a goldfish was permitted in the Cameron Household. He said that, according to Ward, the children were irresponsible and would never be able to care for an animal.

“One time I brought a stray cat that I found home.” Rafe said, sitting in your bed, petting Fivel. The dog was beside himself, rolled to expose his stomach with his head in Rafe’s lap.

“He didn’t like kill it, did he?”

“Honestly, wouldn’t have been surprised.” He admitted, “When he got mad he was scary. But no, he just made me drive with him to the SPCA to drop it off. I cried the whole way there over having to give up this kitten and then my dad made me walk all the way home.”

“Why?”

“Cause I cried.”

The bed dipped as you climbed back onto it, sitting beside Rafe and pressing a kiss against his bare shoulder, “you dad sounds like a dick.”

“Oh yeah, no argument there.”

Ward piped up again, seemingly in the mood for conversation and always happy to paint his son in a bad light. “Rafe wanted a cat once when he was younger but I didn’t allow it. The poor thing would’ve died in our house, Rafe’s never been good at taking care of anything, let alone himself.”

“Dad,” Rafe snapped.

“I’m just putting it out there. I mean, you work with kids,” he said, looking at you, “you must’ve thought about having them.”

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded. It was a conversation that you and Rafe had for the first time when you stayed up north a ways for Anya and Ian’s wedding. Kids were not going to happen next month, certainly, but they were something you both agreed you wouldn’t mind.

“Well, usually, you know, they say if you can take care of an animal then you can take care of a kid. And I’m just tell you, Rafe couldn’t take care of either.”

“Dad!” Sarah interrupted this time, glaring at her dad. “Can we just have a nice family meal?”

“We are.” Ward insisted. Under the table, you reached for Rafe’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly as his father continued talking, seemingly unaffected. “Did Rafe tell you he used to do drugs? You don’t do that anymore right? He snorted coke, wasted thousands of dollars on the stuff.”

The flatware and serving dishes on the table banged together as Rafe stood up suddenly, letting go of your hand. You thought for a moment that he was going to lose it and flip out on Ward and honestly, you wanted to yourself. But he said nothing, walking down the hall to the spare room that he used as an office, all of you watching in silence. Was he so upset he was locking himself in, you could imagine the absolute joy Ward would take in knowing he knocked his son down so far that he was sequestering in his bedroom.

Finally he came back, piece of paper in hand, and he stopped at Ward’s chair. “Here, get out of my house.”

“What’s this?”

“A check. For 25 thousand. Now take your wife and get out of my house.” Rafe repeated, “dinner is over.”

You sat there in silence, too shocked to look at Sarah and Wheezie, who mirrored your expression, watching as Ward and Rose stood and left. Rafe walked them to the door, slamming it after them and, finally letting out the anger that had been boiling over all night, punched the wall, hand going right through the plaster.

“Wheezie and I can walk Fivel for you,” Sarah whispered, standing up and ushering Wheezie to the bedroom to get the dog and give you and Rafe some privacy.

You got up at the same time though you headed for your boyfriend, who had his bloody hand pressed against a white button up, face red. “Hey,” you spoke soft, in what you hoped was not your ‘talking to kids voice’, “come on. I know you have a first aid kit cause I bought it.”

He followed you into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet while you pulled the first aid kit out from below the sink. The front door opened and closed as Sarah and Wheezie left with Fivel. Just the two of you in the apartment now.

“Hey,” you brushed his hair out of his face and he tilted his head back to look up at you. “You did the right thing. He shouldn’t talk to you like that, or about you like that.”

“He’s right. I was a fucking screw up.”

“In the vain of sounding like I’m going into teacher mode,” you said and Rafe laughed, leaning forward to press his forehead to your stomach, “Everyone messes up sometimes. You’re not that person anymore, and no one should ever talk to their kid like that.”

“I’m just glad he’s gone.” Rafe replied. “I don’t care if I never see him again.”

“Won’t argue with you on that.”

-First Christmas-

With the way that Thanksgiving had gone for the two of you, Rafe had proposed a Christmas without family. You might’ve agreed except he hadn’t met yours and you were more than determined to prove that not everyone was like his family. Christmas brought a lot of things. The four-month mark on your relationship, though Nina claimed it felt more like you had been dating a year, and your first major fight.

Which began as a spat at his place and evolved into a whole verbal sparring match once you were at yours.

“I’m not going.” He kept repeating the same phrase over and over.

“Christmas is so important to my family, I already told you-”

“And I already told you that the last thing I want to do is subject myself to a house full of people on Christmas when I could be home.” He was adamant about his ‘no family holidays’ decision.

“You haven’t met my family yet.” You argued. You’d been subjected to his and you talked with his sisters frequently but he had never bothered to meet any of your family.

“Schedule a dinner.”

“Rafe! I did Thanksgiving, it’s not fair that you won’t come up for Christmas with me.” What wasn’t fair was bringing up Thanksgiving in the first place. The only physical memory of evening, besides the 25k that Ward did end up withdrawing from Rafe’s savings, was the hole in the wall that one of his friends had jokingly bought a frame for when they were up visiting from North Carolina the week after.

“No.” He said the word with enough finality to end the argument.

“Fine, I’ll go without you.”

Dinner that night was tense and he didn’t stay over like he usually did. You didn’t text him in the morning and when he finally asked about getting dinner together two days later you lied and told him you were busy. Maybe you were being petty, probably you were, but you didn’t care. You were pissed, and rightly so. You had endured Rose’s scrutiny and had been there afterward for Rafe after he confronted his dad and he couldn’t even make the drive to western Mass. to see your family.

So, you went alone. Packed your bags, packed up Fivel, and drove out yourself, arriving the day before Christmas Eve to your parent’s house. Christmas was a big deal in your family. The day of was always spent at home, together, with a brunch spread that could’ve fed far more people and the Hallmark channel on a constant loop of ridiculous movies that you loved way more than you should’ve. But Christmas Eve was a whole other story. Since you were a kid your mom had been hosting Christmas Eve at her house, family, friends, anyone who wanted to was welcome to come over. There was chili and meatball sandwiches and appetizers and none of the food the people usually ate for dinner. This was no Martha Stewart Holiday.

The drive to western Mass wasn’t long, thankfully, because it took Rafe about an hour after you left to realize that there was absolutely no way he wanted to spend Christmas the same way he had the last few years. Alone in his apartment re-watching Die Hard or some other pseudo Christmas movie.

He got there on Christmas Eve, pulling his car in next to yours in the crowded driveway. It was already snowing pretty heavily but his main concern was you. Would you be happy he changed his mind or pissed that he put you through all that fighting just to decide in the end that he was going to come?

There were people on the porch and the front door was open so Rafe took that as hint enough to go inside. Your house was smaller than Tanney Hill but probably just as old, the woodwork inside that you’d told him about was as daunting as you said, though he still thought the house looked more welcoming than his.

He weaved through people who said hello without knowing who he was until he managed to find the kitchen, and you, standing at the island talking to your mom. “I just think it would’ve been nice if she told you ahead of time that she wasn’t gonna show up. No one else wants to eat vegan spinach artichoke dip.”

“She said she was going to try to make it.” Your mom replied, looking up from the oven and realizing that the two of you weren’t alone in the kitchen anymore. She had seen enough pictures of Rafe from your instagram and from what you’d sent her that she recognized him immediately. “Anyway, I’m taking this out to the living room.” She announced, grabbing the charcuterie board and passing Rafe on her way out.

You turned, to finish your thought on your cousin, and caught sight of Rafe for the first time. “I thought you wanted to-”

“I know I said I wanted to stay home and not do family stuff but...I’d rather be here with you than stay in my apartment by myself.” He admitted. Rafe wasn’t one to fall on his own sword, he’d always been too stubborn to acknowledge when he was wrong but he couldn’t keep doing that. Not if he wanted this to last and he really did.

You crossed the small space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, “it means a lot to me that you’re here.” You replied, “Christmas Eve is my favorite.”

“I think this is more people than house parties I’ve thrown.”

“Crowds are the best.” You stepped away enough to kiss him, the peach flavor of your lip balm making him lick his lips when you pulled away.

“Why’s that?”

“Cause you can sneak off in crowds.” You replied, smiling enough that he knew exactly what you were insinuating as you pulled away from him, hooking your arm with his instead, “can I give you a tour of the house Mr. Cameron?”

“Absolutely.”

You walked him up the stairs, trying not to be suspicious as you ducked out of the party.

“I watched this documentary about Nancy Reagan once,” you began to say, laying with your head against Rafe’s chest. It was Christmas morning, as your mom had reminded the two of you when she knocked on the door a few minutes ago.

“Interesting post-sex commentary,” he teased, cutting you off.

“Shut up.” You laughed, “I was trying to tell you something nice.” You sat up, angling yourself so that you were facing him, holding the sheet up in front of you. He looked at you skeptically, reaching for the sheet and giving it a tug but you held on. “No, cause you’ll distract me and then I won’t remember what I was gonna say and if we take too long my mom will come back upstairs.”

Rafe pouted, “no early Christmas presents?”

“Trust me, you’ve had enough early Christmas presents to last until the new year.” You laughed, leaning over to kiss him. The moment you did, of course, he pulled the sheet away and grabbed your hips, guiding you back onto his lap. “Family Christmas.” You reiterated, determined to make it downstairs.

And you did, though not before Rafe insisted he needed a shower and you needed to join him. The nice clothes you’d both worn for the party the night before were exchanged this morning for pajamas, yours a onesie that Nina had bought you from pink a few years ago.

Rose had always done Christmas for show, a gaudy tree and enough blinding lights and white on sliver to make someone feel like they were in a Kardashian’s house and not the Outer Banks. She never did yard ornaments or sentimental anything and someone else always baked whatever desserts they had for dinner at the holidays. Yours was entirely different. Red and green everything, the overwhelmingly large tree much more visible then it had been the night before with people crowded around the living room. There were ornaments from every year of your life, some silly figurines from Hallmark and others handcrafted with school pictures in them.

“Guess how old I was in that picture?” You said, pointing to a baby picture of you that hung on the tree.

“I don’t know, two?”

“Five months...I just had a shit ton of hair. My mom said one time when she took my brother to Tennis the girl there asked if I wanted to join the seven-year-old class. I was three.” You replied.

“So you were always weird?” Rafe asked, grinning when you smacked his arm.

“How did you two meet? We didn’t get the story.” Your mom said, carrying a tray of food in and putting it on the coffee table. Your brother was with his husband’s family this year, but your sister was here with her husband and her three kids, one of whom was currently climbing onto Rafe’s lap the second he sat down.

“Sorry, Garrett still gets u-p-s-e-t when he doesn’t get enough a-t-t-e-n-t-i-o-n.” Your sister said, as Garrett tugged on the strings of Rafe’s hoodie. Your sister was holding one of her twins and her husband had the other in his arms.

“That’s fine, Garrett and I can chill, right?” Rafe said, tilting his head to look at your nephew.

“Yeah chill,” he repeated, smiling up at Rafe.

“So,” your mom said, drawing the conversation back, “how did you two meet?”

“Like how did we actually meet?” Rafe asked, smiling at you as you sat down on the couch beside him, Garrett repositioning himself so he was stretched out across both of you, laughing when you tickled him.

Your mom nodded.

“We uh, met at college but I was kinda still with Ian so nothing really happened and then Nina saw him on my Tinder and swipped and now we’re together.” You replied, “a modern love story.”

“Yeah, we,” he looked down at Garrett and then back to your mom, “h-o-o-k-e-d up and she broke my heart by not calling me back.” Rafe said.

“Rafe!” You laughed, nudging him.

“God, I hated Ian...what a d-o-u-c-h-e,”

“We actually just went to Ian’s wedding in November,” You replied, lifting Garrett so that you could grab some food off the table. Rafe put his arm around your nephew when he tried to rock back again.

“No!” Garrett laughed, squirming around. “I wanna do presents.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll do presents.” Your stepdad promised. Garrett slid off of Rafe’s lap, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the tree. Rafe followed, sitting down at the base of the tree so that Garrett could look for the presents with his name on them.

“How was the wedding?” Your sister asked, sitting on the floor by the couch with one of the twins. “I can’t believe he invited you.”

“Oh he didn’t,” Rafe piped up, “Ian married her grade partner.”

“Are you kidding?” She practically hissed, immediately going into older sister defensive mode.

You rolled your eyes, getting off the couch and sitting down beside Rafe and Garrett. “Not kidding, and it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Being at your parents for Christmas had the same feeling as being out of the city for the wedding. Maybe even more so this time around, spending time with your family, made it easier for Rafe to think about the possibility of moving out of Boston and settling down with you somewhere like this.

“I bought that bike unitard, by the way.” You mentioned, packing your suitcase to leave. Rafe was laying on the bed in your childhood room, Fivel spread out next to him.

“The what?” He asked, raising his head a little.

“The bike unitard, that I showed you, from that yoga website.” You replied, “its the shorts.”

He hummed, laying his head back down and brushing his hand through Fivel’s fur.

“What’s the ‘mmhmmm’ supposed to mean?” you asked, mimicking his humming.

“You don’t ride a bike. Also, it’s December.”

“I might start.” You argued. In reality the chances of you biking were slim to numb but the outfit had been cute and the site had a 20% off sale.

“No.” He replied, “Nina asked you to bike two weeks ago and you said it was, and I quote, the worst activity in the world.” He said, finally sitting up all the way when you stopped packing to sit on the bed with him.

“Well I could stationary bike?” You suggested, though that was unlikely too. “They have those ones with the desk. So you can work out and work.”

“You’ll never use that.”

“I might.”

“Why not just use that stupid peloton in my office.” It had been a gift from Rose and Ward two years prior and Rafe had used it a total of never. It just sat there, staring at him as he worked.

“Then I’d be at your apartment all the time!”

“More than you are now? I’m surprised I don’t get mail in your name already.” He replied, getting off the bed and going over to his weekend bag. You should’ve left by now to make it home before dark but neither of you were rushing to leave.

“Well, we’re always busy! If I was there and not busy-”

“Coincidentally,” Rafe started to say, only to have you cut him off.

“Coincidentally?”

“Yeah, here.” He turned back toward you and held a small wooden box out.

You took it somewhat skeptically, “what is this? This looks like the Leslie and Ben box.”

“That’s because you have the best fucking boyfriend in the world who watches endless reruns of Parks and Rec with you.” Rafe replied, “open the box.”

Sitting inside the wooden box was a keycard and a spare, silver key, both of which you recognized. “Are these to your apartment? Are you giving me keys to your apartment?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m also asking you to move in with me. I know your lease ends in January and my building is animal friendly...imagine my bookshelves with actual books on them.”

“You want us to move in together?”

“I want a lot more than that,” Rafe admitted, “but, it’s a good place to start.”

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @mysticsthinking @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @bbeauttyybbx @teenwolfobx @iccyyyybitch @popcrone818

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research.

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week.

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig.

I’d officially hit rock bottom.

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop.

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press.

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile.

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like.

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers.

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me.

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one.

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project!

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette.

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie.

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to.

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August.

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that.

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying.

A house don’t fall when the bones are good.

The bones.

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so.

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance?

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am.

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about.

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that.

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach.

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher.

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio.

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary.

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time.

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me.

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway.

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out.

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation.

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.”

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now.

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped.

Valerie.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way.

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was.

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare.

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was.

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.”

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...”

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed.

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.”

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?”

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room.

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive.

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before.

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?”

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer.

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.”

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe.

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me.

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body.

She was so close.

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there.

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions.

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?”

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again.

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there.

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me.

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass.

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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marshmallow--3 · 3 years ago

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I dreamt that my dad were dying and he only had 1 week left to live, so I tried to ring him and then my mom to spend his last week with him.

I dialled Mom's number, but it took me through to an unfamiliar voice who had no idea who I was or why I was calling. He had a Scottish accent, his name was Dr. Jacob Holt, and he lived in Southport.

He started yelling at me to speak up because I'm talking as though we're neighbours. I said that I knew my mom and dad knew a Jacob, so it could be him, asked for his surname and it wasn't the one I was thinking of. There was a lot of confusion because when I checked, I was dialling a number for Monster, the energy drink people, and he saw the incoming number as Monster too.

Anyway I apologised, hung up and dialled my mom's number again, I got through and she was in the shower. I explained that since Dad only had a week left to live, if it was okay, I'd like to spend that time with him. I'd added 'if that's okay' to soften the request so I didn't look demanding but it gave her the option to decline, she told me she wasn't willing to put me up for a week.

So that devestated me, here's my dad dying and I couldn't even see him. So this dude rings me back to see how it went, I was upfront, I told him everything. Then suddenly he were in the same room as me, m** was only in the other room, and first he kissed my cheek but then he started kissing me. And honestly I was okay with it, I was sad and dick sounded good.

So then suddenly we're not at home anymore, we're at my old work, holding hands, he sneaks me kisses, and we're there buying condoms and an electric toothbrush - he says that's so he can brush his teeth after staying the night but why not just buy a regular toothbrush 👀 it was with the sex stuff, the condoms, lube, tingle sheaths, so it was obvious what it was going to be used for.

Then he got all teasy, because it was my old workplace, everybody knew me, so he wanted us to go through a checkout, show off the condoms. But I was too shy, so he'd be like, ah well, if you don't go through, we won't have sex. So we eventually went through and everybody was swarming round me, going, ooooooooooh! because I'm there with a dude holding my hand and buying condoms. Awful terrible embarrassing, never wanna go through it irl.

So then we're transported across town, and this woman spots me, she asks if I'm ill, if it's anything viral, and I'm like, nah, sex is on the table, that's why I'm rushing. So she joins us, turns out the dude already knew her and she was part of his kink play group. She was into clingfilm wrapping? So there I am, suddenly we're at the train station heading to Manchester- don't understand why, it's in the opposite direction for both of us - and I'm there like, okay, are we gonna have a three way or something?

And then this dude has a backpack and he abandons it on some stairs leading down to a platform, and alarm bells go off in my head. Why did he do that? Doesn't he need the contents of that bag? So in my head, I'm like, oh god I'm being seen in public with a terrorist oh god. Also he bought myself and the lady child tickets to save on money.

So then as the train arrives, it's put on pause, nobody goes on or comes off. There's a guard there and I'm panicking thinking we're gonna get caught. Turns out, a homeless teen had emptied a first aid ready kit to fill his backpack with supplies, we were in the clear.

Dream never got round to fucking but oh well.

So if anybody knows a Dr Jacob Holt, hmu.

#my dreams #my dream #quirky dreams #quirky dream #tw terrorism mention #tw death mention

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waywardodysseys · 4 years ago

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Eight Days of Christmas - Day 6

Christmastime is Here

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader

Warnings: cussing

Summary: Your eleventh Christmas with Ransom Drysdale.

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

You walk through Faneuil Hall with your two-year-old son, Oliver, trying to find the perfect gift for Ransom, who happens to be shopping as well. The two of you deciding to come down to the famed marketplace to enjoy one of your holiday traditions with your son. The marketplace is extravagantly decorated with holiday décor as Christmas music filters through the speakers and the smell of gingerbread cookies and roasted chestnuts drift through the air. Christmastime is here and the frenzied crowd’s milling about, trying to find the perfect gift for whoever they are shopping for.

You and Oliver have been weaving through the crowd, going into various stores. Most of them were for Oliver to look at the toys or some clothes. You had taken him into a store, showing him a few things, his father might like. “What do you think, Oli?” you inquire.

“Daddy has sweaters. Anda clothes. What ‘bout toy?”

“This is for your dad, not you.” you answer and receive a frown in return. “What about a watch? Hmmm? Or maybe something for the Beamer?”

“We could get ‘m a new car!”

You laugh, “Your dad would be a horrendous Grinch for the rest of his days if we got rid of the Beamer.” Along with me. Because there were still times you and Ransom took the silver car out when enjoying a night out on the town and the two of you ended up getting down and dirty in the car before making it into the house. It was also where you and Ransom did the deed for the first time because you couldn't help yourself when he pulled up to his house all those years ago on the fourth date.

“Momma!” Oli’s voice brings you out of your memories. You turn to find your son ogling some high ultra tech drones. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level. “I’m sure he’ll let you play with it, but know it’s your father’s toy not yours.”

Oli nods his head in response, too engrossed in looking at the pricey mechanical devices. You smile as you stand and begin talking to the retail associate.

Half an hour later you are walking back through the marketplace, holding Oli’s hand. Soon you’d meet Ransom for lunch, and he’d take Oliver for a couple of hours while you looked for a gift for Ransom from yourself. Currently, no doubt, he was probably overthinking a gift for you or one of his family members. He had always been prepared for this day but knew he had to outdo the gifts of the previous year.

“Momma?” Oli questions from below.

“Yes?” You stop and look down at him.

“Where’s daddy?” He looks up at you with tiredness in his eyes.

You reach down and pick him up. “He’s shopping for Grandma Linda, Grandpa Richard. And the rest of his family.” You and Ransom had agreed when you were first married he’d buy all their gifts because he’d know what they want and like then you wrapped them and placed both of your names under the ‘from’ on the tag. You had been doing the same for your own family. It worked out perfectly every time.

“Nana? Papa?”

He’s referring to your parents. “I will be shopping for them after we meet daddy for lunch.”

“I hungry!”

You cuddle him into your chest as your stomach growls. “Me too. How about we find a place to eat? Huh? I’ll let him know where we are, okay?”

He nods his head and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He whispers, “Otay.”

-------

You and Oliver are sitting inside Anthem Kitchen and Bar, which is near Faneuil Hall. You had texted Ransom where you were heading and he responded immediately, telling you he was finishing up at a store and would join you shortly.

“There’s my beautiful family,” Ransom remarks as he approaches you. He places a brief kiss on your lips then places a kiss on Oliver’s head. “How are my two favorite people?” he inquires as he places his bags down and takes a seat.

“Hungry!” Oliver boasts. “Momma say I canna have burger or chicken sticks.”

You laugh and shrug, “Close enough. Though I did say chicken tenders.”

Ransom smiles, “Whatever you want, buddy.” Ransom reaches under the table and finds your hand and squeezes it. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”

You watch Oli scribble on a coloring sheet then glance at your husband. “Our son made me reminisce about a particular silver car.”

One of Ransom’s brows pops up, “I can call my mom. Have her watch Oli tonight.” He leans in closer to you and cups your cheek. “I’d love to take you for a spin. As well as the car.” Your cheeks are hot as Ransom chuckles. “Any specific moment you were thinking about sweetheart?”

You swallow. Happy your husband still knows how to keep things lively no matter what the occasion is. “Our fourth date.”

Ransom moans under his breath, “You couldn't keep your hands off me that night. And I think it was because you had agreed to it on the fourth date because you declined me on the first one.”

“I wasn't about to let you get what you truly wanted on the first date.”

“Well, I did get to second base with you that night.”

“Ransom!” you hiss as you giggle.

“You in trouble daddy!” Oli exclaims.

Ransom pulls back and looks at Oli. “I know I am. But I think she’ll forgive me later.” He winks at his son. Oli smiles widely and laughs.

The server appears seconds later, and three lunch orders are given. They disappear again and are not seen until lunch is brought out and placed on the table.

After lunch is over, Ransom, you, and Oliver walk back out into the chilly winter air. A now fed Oliver is bursting at the seams, ready to shop with his father.

“What we buyin’ momma?” Oli inquires as Ransom scoops him up into his arms.

“We gotta discuss it when she’s not around Oli.” Ransom leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. They linger for a minute before he pulls away. “Couple of hours? And I’ll call my mom about watching Oli.”

“Grandmama Linda? She’s here?”

Ransom shakes his head, “Not here. Maybe she’ll watch you tonight while your mom and I shop for you.”

You shake your head and laugh at Ransom’s lame excuse to cover him and you are having a date night. Which included the Beamer and possibly reenacting your fourth date. You lean over and kiss Oli’s cheek then place a kiss on Ransom’s lips. “That should be enough time.” You look between the two of them and your heart swells. “Take care of one another.”

“We will,” Ransom and Oli respond in unison.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” “Love you momma.” Ransom and Oli respond at the same time.

You turn and make your way back towards Faneuil Hall while Ransom looks at his son and inquires, “What shall we get her?”

Oliver shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Makeup? Jewelry?”

“She already beautiful daddy. She dontna need that.”

Ransom laughs, “No she doesn't. I got lucky with her, you got lucky too having her as your mom.” He pauses, “What about a new purse? She loves her handbags.”

-------

Hours later, wrapping paper, gift bags, and tissue paper are strewn about the kitchen island and table as you and Ransom wrap presents. Oliver had fallen asleep on the car ride home and thankfully, Ransom had gotten him into the house and up to his room without him waking up while you unloaded the car with dozens of shopping bags. Both you and Ransom then grabbed the wrapping supplies and set up shop in the kitchen.

“Did you peak?” Ransom now inquires as he tries to wrap a box.

“I did not,” you respond, “you always hide it.” You pause, “Or maybe you always buy my gift last minute.”

“I do not. I’ve learned over the years to buy early. You know I still hate the frenzied crowds and the mad drivers. All of them fucking assholes.”

You laugh, “There’s my Grinch.”

Ransom grins, “A couple more weeks and Santa gets to visit.”

“I’ll be ready. As always.” You look over at him. “You called Linda?”

“Yes. She’ll be over at six to pick Oli up. Says he can spend the night too.”

You snort, “She rarely wants him to spend the night.” Then a realization hit you. “Please don't tell me you told her we--”

“I told her no such thing. She said something about taking him to brunch tomorrow with my dad and the three of them could go do something afterwards. Knows what it’s like to have a young boy at his age, knows his parents want some quiet.”

“I’ll have to make sure to get her something else along with what you bought her.” You see Ransom shrug. “It’ll be from me, big spender.”

Ransom sighs, “I just don't get why we can't draw names. There’s a dozen of us now.”

“You know Harlan likes tradition. He’ll never cave into that.”

Ransom curses under his breath. “I also hate wrapping. Why can't everything go in a gift bag? Or better yet the volunteers at the marketplace could’ve wrapped ‘em.”

“We always wrap our own Ransom. Besides, I think, you’ll enjoy unwrapping your gift this year.”

Ransom’s brows shoot up. “Yours, or Oli’s?”

You shrug nonchalantly and don't answer as you begin to wrap another present.

“Sweetheart, come on,” Ransom whines while he makes his way towards you. He pulls up a chair next to you and sits down. One of his hands travels up your leg while the other pushes some hair aside. He dips his head down and nips at your neck.

“Ransom,” you whisper as you look at your husband, who’s giving you sad puppy eyes.

“Y/N,” Ransom murmurs before he sweeps his mouth against yours.

Seconds tick by in silence until a squeaky voice states: “Eeewwww.”

You and Ransom jump apart then laugh. Ransom squeezes your leg. “Wait till you’re in your teens Oli. It won't be ‘ew’ then.”

“His teens?”

Ransom rolls his eyes as he places Oli in his lap, “You’ll always be a momma’s boy Oli. So, no kissing until you're in your thirties.”

“Girls are eeewwww.” Oli makes a disgusting face then looks at you and smiles brightly, “But not momma. She pretty. Right daddy?”

Ransom chuckles, “The prettiest girl in the world.”

You laugh, “Thanks Oli. I love you too.” You watch Ransom’s face drop then reach out and stroke his cheek. “And you.”

“Grandmama Linda here yet?” Oli asks as he looks at Ransom. Oli rubs his eyes, still sleepy and worn out from the day.

Ransom shakes his head. “Not yet. We still gotta finish wrapping gifts. Wanna help?”

“But I won'tna be able to see what you gotta me and I wanna know whatta you gotta me.” Oli whines.

Ransom chuckles. “Well, your mom and I are shopping tonight and will wrap it later. Besides, it's a gift, Oli. You aren't supposed to know what it is until Christmas morning.”

“Otay.” he sighs in defeat.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, before the doorbell rings at six, the three of you wrap gifts in the kitchen. Not caring if they are wrapped perfectly, or unnecessary amounts of tape is used. Not worrying about Oli trying to write people’s names crookedly or illegible on the gift tags or even writing his own under the ‘from’ section on it along with your’s and Ransom’s name too.

All you care about is spending time with the two men of your life, enjoying the holiday season with them. Knowing these are part of the traditions you had grown up with and had been sharing with Ransom and now with your son.

#eight days of christmas #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #eight days of christmas day 6 #christmas series #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic

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