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#brain takes in information sure but then it throws that shit right back out
vulpinesaint · 1 year
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was scrolling on tumblr for a minute and went "hm! i should turn on some music!" and moved my mouse over to the spotify icon only to sit staring at the screen for a few seconds as i realized that there was music already actively playing in my ear.
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Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗
I've done a version of this with Mindy
Warnings: nudity, teasing
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’
‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.
‘’I can’t use blue.’’
‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’
‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’
Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.
‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’
‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’
Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’
You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?
‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.
A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’
Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’
He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.
Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.
You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.
‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.
‘’Let’s take a break.’’
Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.
A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.
You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…
‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.
Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.
Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.
‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.
You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.
He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.
You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’’ 
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz
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zeevawyte · 5 months
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Ok so, this is so far outside my usual stuff it’s insane, but this literally won't leave my brain and I don't know if I have time to write it so-
RadioApple fic idea under the cut:
TW: blood, mentions of cannibalism (it's Alastor, duh), semi-unsafe dom/sub (no actual sex), sub drops
Starts out your normal "stop interfering with my relationship with my daughter & you can have a snack whenever you want" kinda deal, with Alastor taking full advantage of the fact that he's got the most powerful being in hell at his mercy. Dude has a serious power trip the first time, & between that and the taste is hooked immediately.
And of course Luci isn't exactly complaining. Other than the occasional jumpscare via shadow, it hasn't been too bad. Kind of enjoyable actually, not that he'd ever admit that to the demon's face. And it's not like he hasn't been tied up or held down before either.
But then during one of their ‘meetings’ he ends up going into sub space on accident… and it keeps happening.
This wouldn't be a problem except Alastor (for obvious reasons) has literally zero information/knowledge about that sort of thing. And, being the dramatic asshole that he is, enjoys getting the last word and leaving without a backwards glance. Which means he's not there when Luci drops.
Hard.
But it's fine! He's fine! He's the King of Hell, he doesn't need some sinner to help him deal with the consequences of an arrangement he proposed in the first place. He's totally fine on his own.
Except he's not.
He is very much not fine, and it starts to show. It gets so bad that one day Charlie actually asks him if he’s ok mid-conversation.
Enter Angel Dust.
Now, by this point Angel’s like 98% sure the two powerhouses are going at it. Alastor has been in a good mood for months now (coinciding suspiciously with the two of them not being at each other’s throats all the time - at least in public) & he’s seen Luci coming out of a room straightening his coat and hat on one of the upper floors. Not to mention the down-right flirty undertones to any barbs they shoot back and forth.
Husk agrees that something is going on but heavily doubts it’s what Angel thinks.
Determined to prove that he’s right, Angel starts wandering the upper floors or heading up just as Alastor heads down (subtly, he’s not an idiot). Anyway, he’s up there one day being nosy when he hears a crash from one of the rooms. He goes in only to find Lucifer on the floor, having tripped over a side table and knocked over a lamp, disheveled and absolutely shaking.
He recognizes what’s happening almost immediately (fuck you very much Val) and gathers the little king up onto the couch, helping him calm down until he doesn’t look like he’s going to either spontaneously start sobbing or throw up on the rug.
Luci is understandably embarrassed and tries to offer him a favor for his help, but Angel waves him off saying he’s been there & that Luci doesn’t owe him anything.
The next day when Lucifer is off doing something else, Angel grabs Alastor and all but drags him into a side room.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and short king, and frankly it’s none’a my business-”
“No, it isn’t. And if that really is all you wanted to speak with me about-”
“Shut up! I’m not jokin’ alright? I’m bein’ 100% serious. You’re fucking up big time, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even know it. So if you don’t want this whole thing to end in a big fuckin’ mess you need to listen to me.”
Cue a hilariously awkward conversation where an unusually serious Angel explains dom/sub dynamics and the effects/consequences therein to an incredibly-uncomfortable-but-desperately-not-showing-it Alastor.
It ends with something along the lines of
"And look, I don't know if you actually care about the guy or if it’s just about gettin’ your kicks, but honestly? It doesn't matter. You've got your whole gentleman thing right? Openin' doors for the ladies and shit?" *pokes him in the chest* "Well as a gentleman, you've dropped the fuckin' ball. Only self-centered dicks leave their sub to drop alone."
Now if there’s one thing Alastor will not abide, it’s a loss of manners. Being told he’s been unknowingly committing a social faux pas gets under his skin immediately. It itches at him. To the point that his smile almost slips. More than once.
He needs to fix it. As soon as possible.
He’s visibly twitchy the rest of the day.
Husk corners Angel to ask what the hell he said to Al, but only gets a vague, noncommittal answer about letting him know about some information he was missing.
And the next time he and Lucifer have a ‘meeting,’ Alastor stays.
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s-4pphics · 11 months
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dial. 3 (e.w.)
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wc;cw: 3.4K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst😞, oc being an empath, self-esteem issues, mentions anxiety and panic attacks, ellie ain’t shit, alcohol, mentions of smoking
playlist :p
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It’s been three days since you’ve heard from Ellie. 
She left you on read when you reached out the next morning after the party. You tried to get some information out of Dina on her whereabouts, but she shut you down, practically begging you to let you and Ellie’s disastrous relationship rest for your sake. Niah said that she was ready to jump at any moment, but you didn’t want her— or anyone else— in the middle of your conflict. You made a mistake looking to Ellie for approval and you had to deal with it. 
But there was some part of you that couldn’t let this go. You’ve been embarrassed by a good number of people in your lifetime, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into the deepest hole imaginable and never come out whenever it happened, but you’re an adult now. So why is it hitting harder than ever before? 
You never understood why people were so put off by your personality. You always craved companionship and were so giving with your heart, but people just can’t… stand you, you’ve realized. A portion of your heart dies whenever you get blasted for being too much, but you can’t help how you feel. All you wanted to do was make people happy and keep them close, but you’ve only managed to scare them off. 
You talk a lot, and I don’t think you realize it. 
Are you always this… touchy?
Please. Just stop talking for a second. 
It comes off really annoying, not gonna lie. 
You’re really nice but… I dunno, you’re just a lot sometimes. Just ease up. 
You hated that your mom was wrong; kindness, in fact, doesn’t get you where you need to go. 
At least you have your aunt. And Niah. They both accept your clinginess with no grudges. 
You’ve kept your head down on campus, only going to the library to study and back to your dorm. You cut your usual Starbucks visits completely; Reading without caffeine was killing you, but it was better than seeing and hearing Ellie. Plus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everybody was staring at you, waiting for you to fuck up so they could get a good laugh. 
It was the last day of finals, and you couldn’t wait to go the fuck home. You were sick of being on campus and your self-esteem was at an all-time low. You needed your auntie’s food for revival. 
You were desperate for an awfully long break. Hopefully something positive will come of it. 
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“Take a break from paaacking. Come eat with me, please, I’m starving!”
Your eyes rolled at Niah’s incessant whines. She knew how tedious you were with your luggage; She couldn’t wait another five minutes? —
“I know you’re cussing me out in your head. Your thoughts are loud, remember that!” She squinted at you while kicking her feet like a child throwing a tantrum. 
You groaned and threw the sweatshirt you’d been folding back into the drawer. How the fuck did universities get away with giving students two days to pack all their essentials right after finals. As if you had any remaining brain cells to wash and fold your laundry. They’re going to hell, for sure!
“Whatchu wanna eat?” You stretched your arms over your head and stood from the floor.
Niah smirked at you, “Arby’s.” 
“… Go to hell— “
She laughed aloud, rolling on her back in her bed, “I wanna fuckin’ sandwich, bro! I dunno why.” 
“This is the worst pre-Christmas goodbye dinner we’ve ever had,” you stared at her blankly. 
“Bitch, we’ve only had two, stop,” she flipped you off, “Dee would support me, ask her to come.” 
You walked over to your desk to pull your phone off the charger, “If she says yes, I’m not going.” 
“Yes the fuck you ar— “
“Shut up, it’s ringing,” the dial tone blared in your ear before Dina answered with a blood curdling scream. You instantly put her on speaker phone. 
You and Niah looked at each other in concern before Dina calmly said, “Hi.” 
“Are you fucking okay? What the hell was that?” Niah shouted. 
“… I can’t be excited that the sem’s over?” 
“… Girl, I swear to god— “
You interrupted your best friend, “Wanna come to Arby’s with us, friend?” 
“…” 
You snickered at her silence and Niah screamed, “Fuck both of y’all! Arby’s is top tier— “
“… Is she fucking serious right now?” 
“Just come so I don’t have to suffer the meat alone,” you begged. 
She scoffed, “… I never thought your gay ass would say that— “ 
“Please just come with us!” 
“Okay! I’m not buying shit, though.” 
“You really think I’m about t’pay for my own meal?! Bring your wallet, suga mama!” Niah beckoned. 
And Dina hung up on you. This was the loudest you’ve laughed in days. 
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“On a scale from one to ten: how much d’you hate yourself right now?” 
“Negative forty.” 
Niah was tearing up her curly fries and smokehouse brisket sandwich like no tomorrow. She looks happy; That's all that mattered, you suppose. 
Dina gave Niah her private time with her sandwich and laid her head on your shoulder, whispering, “How are you doing, hon?” 
You shrugged lightly, “I’m alright, I guess. I dunno. I’ll get over it at some point.” 
“You know I never wanted to see you upset over something like this. I’ve known her for so long and love her a lot but… she’s awful sometimes,” she nuzzled closer and your heart warmed. 
“I’ll be okay! I should’ve just listened when you told me,” She didn’t need to know how many times you’ve cried over this recurring situation. 
She sighed and let it go, kissing your clothed shoulder, “Jesse wanted to come but he said fuck arby’s.” 
“Y’all are gonna stop talkin’ shit about my fav— “
“ANYWAYS!” Dina spoke over Niah. “He said he wants his goodbye hug before we all head out tomorrow.” 
“He knows I’ll give him one! I gotta give him his notebook back anyway,” you peered down at her, “Did you know that he doodles you when he’s notetaking? I wanted to cry; they were so fucking cute!” 
She sat up to look at you, “No fucking way!” 
“Yes way!” Niah concurred, “He wants to get you preg— “
You kicked Niah under the table, and she exploded into a fit of giggles while Dina blushed and twiddled her thumbs. 
“… I’ll give him a baby, I guess,” she whispered sheepishly while her cheeks burned. 
You and Niah squealed in excitement. Seeing your friends happy and in love made your heart beam with joy. 
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Finals were finally fucking over! 
This was, by far, the sloppiest you’ve ever packed for anything, but you couldn’t wait to see your auntie. You loved being around your friends every day, but you needed your personal schedule back. It’s been so long since you’ve had a self-care day! Your aunt already purchased foot baths and vanilla-scented exfoliant. 
You always get a little teary-eyed whenever you have to say goodbye to Niah even though you were only going to be separated for a month. Being apart from your favorite person is always a bit soul-crushing! 
You made sure she got on her train safely before powerwalking back to your dorm building. You quickly snatched your bag that held two of Jesse’s physics notebooks before catching the bus to his apartment building. You hoped you could catch him before you go to the airport; You still want a hug!
When you got to the front of his complex, you caught a glimpse of Abby hauling her luggage out of the door with an older couple. Probably her parents!
Since when did she live here? Why have you never seen her around? 
Too busy being a whore! 
You wanted to apologize for not reuniting with her at the party, but she most likely didn’t remember you. Everybody was lit, and she seemed eager to mingle—
Your racing thoughts were caught off at the light shout of your name. Abby sat her bags down to wave you over, and a large smile grew on your face. You scurried over to where she was and moved to shake her hand, but she gently pushed it away to pull you in for a hug. 
“You were really gonna greet me like a fucking grandma?” she laughed quietly in your ear. You shuddered; Even with her coat on, you could feel how strong she was! 
“Sorry! I, uh— “
“S’fine,” she pulled away, smiling just as brightly, her cheeks dusted red and snowflakes dusting her lashes, “Missed you at the party.”
You cringed inwardly, “I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to leave you like that; I got caught up with… Dina! With Dina— “
“Mhm,” Her eyes were moving over your face like water. “I was gonna— “
“Abby! Who’s this!” 
You gazed at the cheesing couple behind her before waving ecstatically at them. They seemed sweet with their joyous tones! And wealthy; You peeped her father’s Gucci puffer. Abby’s blush deepened and she sighed. 
“Aren’t you adorable! We’re Abby’s parents— “
You were pulled into warm hugs and given bright greetings while Abby awkwardly shuffled in the corner. You matched their vibrancy, introducing yourself with a genuine grin. You listened intensely while they bragged about Abby being on the Dean’s List two years in a row and how she was going to enroll in the honor roll program. 
But Abby had enough of the boasting, “You guys mind putting this in the car for me?” 
She gently pushed her carry-on into her dad’s arms, and they both departed with merry goodbyes. 
“Sorry, they’re so… yeah.” 
“No, oh my god, they seem so sweet!” 
She shook her head with a bashful grin. She looked so pretty in the snow. 
“I, um…” You started, putting yourself in the hot seat. “I’m really sorry about flaking at the party. I hope we’re… okay?” 
“More than okay,” Her tone quieted. “Just as long as you promise to spark with me next time?” 
Butterflies exploded in your chest and tummy. You promised to do so with glossy eyes. 
“Good,” she smirked before pointing towards her complex. “Needa be checked in?” 
“No, just buzzed, if you don’t mind? I’ll only be a couple minutes.” 
“Course, c’mon.” 
You tried to ignore the fluttering of your heart at Abby’s hand at the small of your back as you trailed through the snow. 
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Abby ensured you got her number before seeing you onto the elevator. She made her leave with one last weighted gaze at your appearance. The small space was burning up with you in here! 
The second you stepped off the elevator, your ears were filled with booming voices from down the hall. The floor was quiet due to its decreased occupancy, so you could hear Dina’s screaming clearly. What the fuck is going on! 
You bustled down the pathway until you reached Jesse and Ellie’s front door, and you instantly regretted coming to return his belongings. 
“You’re being a fucking cunt, that’s why!” 
“I don’t give a fuck!” 
Ellie’s angered timbre made you pause at the entrance of their residence. You could’ve sworn she went home already. Why the hell were they fighting! 
“She literally did nothing wrong! Why the fuck did you even pursue her in the fucking first place! I told you how she is and now you’re acting surprised that her feelings are hurt!” 
The shaky breath you'd been holding left you with the last bit of your dignity. There was no way they were talking about you. 
“That’s not my fucking problem! I was clear about my intentions when we first started fucking just like everyone else. She has to deal with that shit on her own time, I’m not a fucking babysitter.” 
“It’s not about babysitting! It’s about being a decent human being! Maybe stop leading her on and making her seem like you— “
“I’m not making her seem like shit! She’s clingy as fuck on her own. She would’ve gotten attached regardless.” 
The more their argument pursued, the more upset you got. You didn’t realize how tight your fists were clenched until you felt your nails pierce the skin of your palms, but you hardly cared. Your heart was crumbling to pieces and the shards were slicing you open, and the pain overtook your sadness. And fury. You could almost hear your mother scolding about emotional control.
Your breaths got heavier the more you tried to steady them, tears jerking in your eyes while they went back and forth about you. 
You didn’t even have time to register how insane you must’ve looked standing at their front door crying before booking it down the hallway, frantically pressing the elevator button so you could get the fuck out of here. You tried to bring yourself back down on the ride to the first floor, but your techniques weren’t working. Your heaves were erratic and coarse, your lungs burning with each harsh exhale through your nose. 
The elevator door opened, and you left in a rush, pushing through all the exit doors of the building until you rushed into a larger frame. 
You could hear Jesse calling out your name, asking if you were all right and what happened, but you pushed him off you and bolted for the main entrance. You ignored the calls of his name and shoved the doors open, not even bothering to wait for the last bus pick-up. You need to get home now; Your flight wasn’t for another six hours, but you couldn’t stand to be here a second longer. 
The tears on your face frosted over as every ridicule from your past and present came crashing down on you on your way to the dorm. The mockery, the bullying, the lies from people you trusted.
No matter where you go, it all follows you like a shadow. 
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You turned your phone off the second you arrived at the airport. 
Going through TSA was such a hassle; You were so disoriented that the security had begun to get suspicious and asked if you had anything to drink before you arrived. And people were staring. Does the humiliation ever stop!
You shut your phone off when you arrived, ignoring the multiple calls from Dina and Jesse, and sent one last message to your auntie about how you couldn’t wait to see her; Ellie even sent you one before your screen went dark. Fuck her apparent guilt; You swore to block her the second you touched down. 
You made yourself as comfortable as you could in the airport chairs since you were going to be here a while, and just cried. Your tears fell from the remaining wait hours until boarding. 
You calmed a bit when the plane took off, silently thanking your aunt for booking you a window seat. The clouds were always gorgeous during winter. 
You felt a little hand gently tap your forearm, and you turned to see a little boy holding a tissue in his hand for you. You cried harder and accepted, bumping your fist against his smaller one as a thank you. 
You didn’t sleep the entire plane ride home. 
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You hugged your aunt like you hadn’t seen her in years. 
Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise. 
You sobbed into her shoulder the second she stepped out of her car and just held her. And she held you back. 
Until the fucking security complained about her blocking traffic. She gave your head dozens of kisses before grabbing your bags to throw into the back seat. 
You both scurried into the car and she pulled out driving onto the nearly empty road and parked her car. 
“Talk to me. What happened.” 
Your breaths were still trembling, but you made one request. 
“C-Can,” you cleared your throat when it cracked, “Can we reschedule our self-care day?” 
“Of course we can, baby. When do you wanna do it?” Her brows pulled down as she cooed. 
“W-When we get home?” 
Your aunt flew down the freeway like a bat out of hell. 
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“I just don’t understand why this keeps happening to me,” you’re going to cry again. 
“People just fucking suck. There doesn’t have to be a reason.”
It was three in the morning, and you were still going on about everything that’s happened: how you met Ellie, what you two did over the past couple of weeks, how she talked about you behind your back. You watched your aunt’s hands as she filed your nails to perfection under the beaming lamp while you babysat your mimosa, recalling all the events that happened twelve hours ago. 
“Y’know,” she shook her head as she buffed your nails, “Your parents told me they were scared of this happening to you. You’re too fucking sweet for your own good.” 
“Because that’s how they raised me! They always wanted me to be the bigger person when something happens.” 
Hold your head high and turn the other cheek. All the benefits of that will come later, even if you don’t think they will. 
Your dad’s repeated mantra always made you feel lighter when you were young and needed comfort. But now, it’s starting to make you feel guilty because… frankly, you’re still fucking pissed. 
Your aunt paused her work to down the rest of her mimosa, shaking her head when she sat the glass down, her eyes boring into your soul. 
“I never wanna steer you in the wrong direction, but at some point, enough is enough. People have shit all over you for years, and you allowed it. Did you not confront them when it happened?” 
… You stayed silent. She sighed. 
You knew your aunt was insightful, but she was never this serious. You always enjoyed being around her because she was fun and allowed you an outlet: the cool aunt who didn’t have rules, but the burning look in her eyes confirmed that she meant every word. 
Everyone makes revenge seem negative, but to me… It got me and mom through a lot of shit. Maybe that’s why she never wanted you to think of it as a problem solver. 
You recall your aunt sneaking stories about how she and your mom used to jump bullies at school whenever you came home with tears in your eyes from people messing with you, but you never knew the extent of their retaliations. You remember being in disbelief envisioning your mom hurting somebody, even if they deserved it. 
“But you’re an adult… you can make your own decision— “
“What’d you have in mind?” 
Your aunt’s eyes met yours with an arched brow, the glasses on her face shifting with every twitch of her nose. You shocked yourself. 
The corner of her lips came up into a devilish smile. Her shoulders lifted in a cocky shrug. 
“I gotta couple.” 
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You didn’t touch your phone until after the holidays. You and your aunt were having a ball, going shopping and sipping Moscato while you both schemed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the peace with negativity. 
When your screen came back to life, an influx of text and missed call notifications rushed through with alarm alerts. Most were from Niah and Dina begging you to return their calls, but you had one… one text from the only person you didn’t want to talk to. 
You made sure to answer Niah first. 
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And then Dina. 
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You took a deep before opening Ellie’s message and… what the fuck is this—
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That’s the apology? 
She shouldn’t have said all that? Is she fucking serious? Everyone already knows that; She probably never gave a proper apology in her fucking life!
You finally, after years of being tormented and belittled, allowed anger to overtake the graciousness that your parents instilled ever since you were in second grade. Your fingers tapped the keyboard, expression turned in aggravation. 
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The second you tried to block her, the text bubble popped up. 
You nearly snapped your device in two. 
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The fucking audacity! Your fingers typed out words that you never even said aloud before you paused. 
Why the fuck are you wasting your time? She never cared about anything you had to say, anyway. She would ghost you for days, only reaching out to ask if she could smoke you out. You closed your conversation with her, and sparked one with someone who you knew would be of service. 
Your heart pounded in your chest when she answered. You suddenly couldn't wait to get back to campus.
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hi yall omg
cant wait 2 write p4 LOOOOOL
squirting contest?
taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka
teaser, 1, 2, four, five
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Mailman!Eddie x Reader
Here she is, folks...the mailman!Eddie fic my weird lil brain conjured up. Big thanks to @eddiemunsonsmum for giving me the idea to turn this into an actual story.
Summary: Your mailman keeps delivering love letters to you. You're determined to find out who could be behind such a mean prank, but Eddie doesn't make it easy.
WC: 1.1k
--
If someone told you that you’d be waiting for the mailman to deliver a love letter from a secret admirer, you probably would have laughed in their face. If they told you that you’d be waiting to confront the mailman about these love letters, you would have dismissed the notion completely, perhaps with a slight flick of your middle finger.
And, yet, here you are.
“Morning!” Eddie chirps, holding out a stack of envelopes as he climbs the three stairs up your porch. His navy shorts hit right above his knees, leaving his lower legs and their dusting of brown curls exposed. He adjusts the mail sack so the weight is more evenly distributed across his back. You place your glass of iced tea on the snack table in front of you, wiping the condensation from your palms. He has a smile on his face, as he always does when he sees you, but it falters when he notices the frown on yours. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”
You bite back a scoff, taking the mail from his grasp. Sure enough, there’s another one, smack dab in the middle of bills and junk mail. “Yeah, something’s wrong,” you hold up the envelope, unable to mask your irritation. “You keep handing me these stupid notes, and I need to know who’s sending them.”
Eddie blanches, cheeks flushing a deeper pink that can’t solely be attributed to exposure to the summer sun. “Wh-I just deliver the mail,” he stammers, taking a small step back. “I don’t know who—” 
“Save it, Eddie,” you snap, feeling the heat of anger blooming in your cheeks. “There’s no return address; there’s no stamp. Which means that someone is giving you these to bring me, and it’s not funny anymore.”
“Funny?”
You sigh impatiently and roll your eyes at what must be feigned incompetence. “Look, it’s obviously a prank. Who’s going to send love letters to me?”
The hurt and anger in your voice catches him off-guard, and he nearly slips off of the step as he starts backwards. “I, um, I don’t know, okay? They’re just in the pile and I-I gotta finish my route.”
The remainder of Eddie’s shift is filled with him silently chastising himself. 
Way to go, Munson. You try doing something romantic and she thinks it’s a prank. Just tell her how you feel. Stop being a coward and ask her out already. She’s been nothing but nice to you, not like the rest of the people in this town. 
You’re not home in the afternoon again until the following Saturday, and you’re in the same position you were before: standing on the porch, anxiously awaiting the mail. Well, anxiously awaiting the mailman. You hadn’t received any of those fake love notes since you’d last spoken to Eddie, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them. Who would be so cruel to tease you like that? It was middle school behavior; something you’re far too old to be dealing with.
Eddie ducks his head as he hands you the mail, wanting nothing more but to hide behind the curtain of curls that he has to keep tied back on hot days like today. If he could just escape without having to–
“Are you gonna tell me who’s slipping you those notes now?”
Shit.
He peers up at you, barely able to make eye contact as shame settles into his cheeks. “No one’s slipping them to me,” he mumbles, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You throw your hands up in the air before resting them on your hips in complete exasperation. “Seriously?” you balk. “How many times do I–”
“No one’s slipping them to me because…” he pauses, massaging the back of his neck with trembling fingers. “...because I'm the one writing them.”
The information crushes you like a boulder on your chest. Eddie was behind the prank this whole time? Was this some sort of sick joke between him and his mail carrier buddies? “You?” you choke out, eyes stinging with tears. “Why would you do that? I thought we were friends, Eddie!”
“We are!” he tries to reassure you, but you shake your head in disbelief. Small towns always had an overabundance of small-minded people, but you’d never thought that Eddie was part of that group.
“Well, friends don’t screw with each other’s feelings and write fake love letters for entertainment.” You cringe at the way he’d probably seen your face alight with excitement the first few times you’d gotten a letter, thinking that maybe someone actually harbored romantic feelings for you. But when months went by with no prospects in sight, your outlook became increasingly cynical.
Eddie’s jaw drops at your accusation. “They’re not fake,” he tells you, keeping his tone soft but insistent. “I like you…a lot…but I was too afraid to admit it.” He exhales, grateful to have confessed his feelings but terrified to see your reaction. “I thought the letters would make you happy, but it looks like I royally fucked that up.”
His words ring in your ears. I like you…a lot. Eddie Munson likes you a lot. Likes you enough to write you letters about how he thinks you’re beautiful, that your smile brightens his whole day, that he could listen to you tell stories about damn near anything for hours on end and never get bored. The man with the chocolate-hued eyes who gave you butterflies every time he was in your vicinity–flutters that you’d tried your best to ignore, because how could someone so handsome and sweet ever be into someone like you?
You let your gaze lock onto his, though your vision is still a bit blurred from your earlier surge of emotion. “Almost royally fucked it up,” you gently correct him, taking a few steps forward to meet him where your walkway met the porch stairs.
Eddie barely chokes out a “Wha–” when you pull him closer by the strap of his mail bag, pressing your lips to his and kissing him like he’s only dreamt of being kissed. Your fingertips of your other hand tangle in the locks of hair that have already slipped from the ponytail; his land on the small of your back as though they’ve always resided there. You two melt into each other, only breaking apart when you realize that Eddie still has a job to do–one that doesn’t involve making out in front of your house.
You’re at work on Monday when Eddie delivers the mail, still thinking about the taste of your mouth on his. When he opens the mailbox to place the stack of envelopes inside, a bright yellow handmade card catches his eye. 
Two can play this love letter game. Picnic at Skull Rock after your shift?
--
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blessedwithabadomen · 2 months
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in love with the mess - day fourteen
summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?
content : angst, fluff, overthinking, mentions of drinking, mentions of throwing up
length : 6k
tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny
a/n : sorry about the delay!!! I'm going on holiday and it was all very stressful and hectic and then we had to figure out how to get to the airport tomorrow morning because the trains are suddenly not running lmao but here it is!!!
•••
day fourteen
“You… you told-”
Noah didn’t even manage to say it out loud. He didn’t need to. Oli and I were just as aware of the fucking blunder we’d just made. The one that might change everything now.
We should have told him earlier. We should have told him, period. Not risked letting him find out. We’d truly fucked up. Too wrapped up in our own happiness and love to really grasp the consequences. How ridiculously selfish of us.
The room had fallen awkwardly silent, or maybe the ringing in my ears was simply tuning out everything else. Either way, there were still people around us, people who had no business listening in to this, people who didn’t need to know anything about our situation. I wasn’t actually sure if anyone even cared - but all the people running around us were distracting at best. Oli seemed to think the same.
“My dressing room, now,” he simply said, no harshness in his order, yet none of us would have dared to decline.
No more words were exchanged as we made our way through the labyrinthine hallways of the arena. We didn’t touch each other, suddenly hyperaware of every single one of our movements, as if they would be watched and analysed and scrutinised. All of us kept our heads down as we passed by a multitude of people and the general vibe we were giving off seemed to do enough to keep everyone else away. We weren’t in the mood for small talk. Or any talk at all that didn’t include just the three of us.
Oli held the door open for us as we passed him, then shut it after he had entered himself. I’d never felt this out of place in my life. The chaotic, stuffed dressing room that had started to feel close to a second home, even if the actual location kept changing, now did nothing but suffocate me. All of us lingered in the middle of it. No one sat down. As if comfort wasn’t allowed.
“How long?” Noah’s voice seemed painfully loud in the quiet dressing room. The door shut out the noise from outside remarkably well.
“Two days ago,” Oli answered, as if it was no bother at all, as if this wasn’t potentially the most crucial conversation the three of us had ever had, but I could see it in his eyes, in the way he tried to hide his hands fumbling with nothing in particular. “I didn’t mean to say it, then. I mean, I love her, but it just tumbled out of my mouth, really.”
“We didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you,” I added. My whole body ached to reach out to Noah, but the fear of how badly the rejection would sting kept me frozen in place. “We meant to talk to you, there just… We didn’t know how or when. I know that’s the shittiest excuse ever. We should have made the right moment to tell you.”
“So what does that mean now,” Noah all but interrupted. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Oli and me, restless and nervous. He didn’t even seem to process any of the information we’d just told him, even if his brain was probably going a hundred miles an hour. “You two are… a thing. And you still fucked me this morning. Why?”
It was my turn to be stunned. Did he really not know? Was he so completely unaware? Or was he simply trying to shield himself, ignore everything that had happened between the three of us in the past two weeks? Because in my mind, there was no way he didn’t know that this was more than just the three of us fucking around. Or me and Oli getting together. In all the ways that we had complicated and confused this whole thing, it had always been about the three of us. Surely.
“Because we love you, you fucking idiot!”
The outburst pierced the silence painfully but it wasn’t until Noah and Oli both stared at me in shock that the realisation dawned that it had been my outburst. I was the one shouting these words. But as soon as it sunk in, I knew I wasn’t done. Some invisible dam had burst - I was going to speak my mind and I was going to speak it now. No more holding back for the sake of others or blindly agreeing for fear of rejection or letting anyone else take the lead.
“This wasn’t just some weird ploy to get Oli and me together and you get stranded on the sidelines. This has been about the three of us from the start and you know it. So what if Oli and I got there first. I’ve been ready to shout about my feelings for you from the rooftops for days now, Noah. But I didn’t. Because I knew it would scare you away. And I was desperate, Noah, desperate for that not to happen.”
I took a breath, trying to keep a hold of myself, trying not to unravel. I willed the tears in my eyes to disappear but all that happened was that one escaped me and dramatically slid down my face. Noah, somehow, was the first one to react, wiping it away so softly that another immediately followed.
“Every time Oli and I are alone, it feels like a part of us is missing. Like the bed is too big, even when it really isn’t. Or there’s a remark hanging in the room that you would make but you’re not there to say it. I don’t want to do this without you. I want you. I don’t know how this is going to work and I don’t really care because I know we’ll figure it out. I’m in love with you, Noah.”
I couldn’t deal with the way he was looking at me. Especially because I, for once, felt so completely, wholly unable to analyse it at all. Was it pity? Oncoming rejection? Insecurity? Love? I could only hope for the latter, but my emotions were running amok in my body and there was no certainty in anything anymore. In anything but the fact that I was so in love.
Noah was still standing in front of me, but his hand wasn’t on my face anymore and I missed it dearly. All I wanted was to throw myself into his arms and beg him to give the three of us a chance. But this was on him, and him alone.
“She’s right, you know?” Oli piped up next to me. He was much braver than me, pulling Noah close, putting his hand to the other man’s neck and letting their foreheads rest against each other. “We’re not complete without you. I… Noah, I’m in love with you. And, fuck, I never thought I’d say that to a man, but here we are.”
He kissed Noah then, deeply and passionately. It was all he could do. I only hoped it would be enough.
“We don’t want to rush you, Noah. But that’s where we’re at and I… I would hate for this tour to be over with unspoken things lingering between us. So, I don’t know, take some time, talk to us or don’t if you need to be by yourself, whatever you need. But, please, think about it. About us. It’s the only thing I’m asking you for.”
Noah nodded, keeping his head hanging low and staring at the ground now that Oli wasn’t holding him up anymore. I let my hand drift to his jaw, making him look at me. I simply needed to press a kiss to his mouth. The chances that I might not get to do it again were too high.
He felt sweet against me, reciprocating the kiss with a familiarity I had grown so accustomed to. But he didn’t initiate anything else. I let go of him and stepped back.
“I’ll give you an answer. Tonight. I promise.”
Believing in him was all Oli and I could do.
•••
It felt wrong to sleep alone. If I’d already been lamenting the fact that Noah was missing when it was just Oli and me, I’d completely forgotten just how awful it would feel to have neither of them next to me in bed. The cold was seeping into my bones, one that couldn’t be fixed with any number of blankets or heating in the room. I missed feeling their bodies around me, feeling the mattress move every time they shuffled. Missed their hands on me, their chests pressed against my own and my back. Their slowing breathing filling the room with the slightest noises that had me drifting off to sleep so easily. Now I was too cold and the room was too quiet and my brain was too loud.
We had tried to be reasonable about it, really. We’d gotten a ride back to the hotel together and while I tried to savour every moment with them, it had been the most awkward situation we’d managed to find ourselves in just yet. When we had lingered in the hotel hallway, unsure of how to proceed from here, Noah had said that he needed some time to think, alone, and that it would probably be for the best if he just went back to his room with Jolly. We’d bid him goodnight, not attempting to kiss or hug him or initiate any other physical contact, and he’d ended up waving before walking down the corridor. Like a stranger.
Then it had just been Oli and me, again. I’d made him hold me, for a while, needing the closeness and the reassurance that we could somehow be fine whatever happened now, but we didn’t talk. Only to agree that we should sleep separately for once. It simply felt… wrong to allow ourselves to spend the night in an attempt at what would hopefully become a steady relationship when Noah was still struggling and confused and neither part of it nor outside of it. Plus, I knew fully well that we would end up talking the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep and instead stressing ourselves out even further.
Not that I was getting much rest on my own now.
Picking up my phone, I once again, for what felt like the seventieth time that night, opened our group chat. There wasn’t very much in there to be honest. Most of the time, it was easy enough to locate each other in the venues or their rooms. And if I was looking for someone specific, I usually ended up texting just that person. The other one was probably with one of us already anyway.
Still.
My fingers hovered over the screen. And then they typed, before I could stop them. I clicked the sent button as soon as the last letter had appeared. Just to make sure I wouldn’t back out again. Then I chucked the phone as far away from me as I could while still being able to hear my alarm in a few hours and turned around, hoping for sleep to come, hoping for my brain to give me some peace for at least a while. Hoping those two men would feel the same way I did when they read my message.
I miss you already.
•••
I ended up running late which was something that rarely happened and tended to be in my top ten most stressful situations in life. I had been so preoccupied with leaving on time or at least not too late to make my flight to Dublin that I didn’t even remember to check my messages until I was in the car to the airport.
Noah Can we talk tonight? The guys want to go out but maybe after?
There was about an hour of nothing in the chat, I presumed Oli was asleep or simply not checking his phone at that time, before another message from him came through.
Noah I miss you too Both
Then silence, again, for a few hours. Oli had apparently gotten up earlier than I had and, somehow, had been more organised. Or at least enough to text.
Oli Think everyone’s keen on going out tonight We can meet up at the hotel afterward? My room? Please don’t make me stay on my own again, I couldn’t even get any rest without you (Aubrey) clinging to my shirt until it almost choked me and you (Noah) terrifying me with your sleep talking in the middle of the night
I wasn’t going to cry in the cab. Even if I did end up clutching the phone to my heart as if it physically held the people I loved and not just the messages they had left. Maybe it was going to be alright after all. Maybe we could make this work. Maybe, even tonight already, we would be right where we were supposed to be - next to each other.
I didn’t get a chance to reply as the driver pulled up to the airport. But I would get to talk to them later tonight, at the very latest. And that made my heart that little bit lighter.
•••
“I’ll let you know that I was only slightly panicked about you missing the flight,” Becky said as I reached my gates, mere moments before boarding was about to start. I huffed at her, pretending it was because I was shocked at how little faith she had in me, not because I was legitimately out of breath.
“Which would have been annoying but not the end of the world, pretty sure there's more fights from here to Dublin than just this one today.”
“Not if they all get cancelled because of the storm.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Storm?”
“Yeah, it's pretty windy already so it's not clear whether later flights will go ahead. Wait, you don't look too well - are you- are you afraid of flying?”
“I'm afraid of turbulences,” I admitted.
“Well, then,” Becky said, reaching into her bag as she ushered me towards the counter where they'd just started boarding. “Here's to hoping your surprises will keep you occupied!”
“Wait- plural?”
She didn’t feel the need to answer me as she instead pushed me forward to get my ticket checked and then ushered down the way toward the plane. I was already on the aircraft when she caught up with me, briefly waiting as I took my assigned seat in the middle, which was only bearable because the window seat was taken by Noah. He sent me a tired smile, making me wonder how much rest he’d gotten during the night, as I slid into the row.
“Have fun!” Becky squealed, putting a folder in my hands and vanishing down the aisle of the plan before I could stop her. I briefly looked from the now vacant spot to the folder to Noah, who had a small but knowing smile on his face.
I quickly stored my luggage and got comfortable - as comfortable as possible on a flight - and only got briefly interrupted when Oli walked down the aisle next to me, throwing a kiss in my direction the way he had done the night before, then throwing another to Noah, who accepted it with the blush I had grown to love so much on his cheeks.
“Do you know what this is about?” I asked as more and more people filled up the plane, boarding finally finishing and the crew getting ready for takeoff.
“Maybe,” he chuckled, giving me one more look that I couldn’t quite get a grasp on, then busying himself in the comic in his hands, one I recognised he’d bought on our trip to Forbidden Planet a while ago.
Realising I wasn’t going to get any more information out of him, I decided I might as well try to preoccupy myself with figuring out what exactly Becky had given me during take off. It was the worst part of the flight anyway. Well, minus the landing. And any turbulences.
However, there simply had to be one more interruption.
“Is this seat taken?”
Confused, I looked up from the folder, already questioning what sense that question could possibly make on a fight with assigned seating, when my eyes spotted-
“Lia!”
I tried to jump up but the seatbelt I'd already buckled painfully pulled me back. Noah quickly reached over to undo it as I stood up, folder almost crashing to the floor, my arms wrapping around my best friend as if I hadn't seen her for years. It felt like it.
A stern look from one of the flight attendants had us sit down immediately, getting settled and ready for take off.
“What are you doing here? I don't understand!”
“Did you know Becky is super nice and also definitely able to bully people into giving her my number and telling me to get my ass here?”
“Wait, so-”
“Well, apparently Oli requested my presence too,” she continued, completely unfazed by my questions, “and we both know he's asking for you and not because he loves me so much. Also the hotel had a free room for the next two nights, how handy, right? So here I am, taking you out drinking tonight and trying to punch some sense into all of you guys. Hi, Noah!”
Noah waved awkwardly and then handed me back the folder I had almost forgotten about. He just have caught up when I'd almost dropped it.
“Have you read it yet?” Lia asked, almost jumping in her seat. I shook my head and then buried it in the papers in front of me.
Nothing made sense.
I skimmed through the pages, then back to the first one, as if it might just have been my English skills inexplicably leaving me, but no. I was seeing - and reading - correctly. With a frown so tight it almost hurt the skin on my forehead, I read through the contents, properly now, absorbing every word.
I wasn’t sure how long I took, flipping through the pages, back and forth, just to make sure I was reading correctly, that I wasn’t hallucinating these words, that this was for real.
“This- I mean… I-”
“You're getting an apprenticeship, Aubrey!” Lia shouted so loudly that someone from the row in front of us turned around with a frown. “Becky asked the company she works for and they're offering it to you. Said that the past two days were basically your try-outs. You're gonna be a sound technician! Well, if you accept, of course.”
“Oh my god,” I mumbled, flipping through the pages again, and again. This whole thing felt like a fever dream I was not ready to wake up from. “And in a few days I would-”
“Come on tour with us and shadow Becky,” Noah completed my sentence. “Not the most conventional way to start learning the basics, but when have any of us ever been. Conventional, that is.”
I didn't have time to think about the implications of his words or how they could translate to a completely different issue too. All I could do was put a hand over my mouth in shock and cease to fight against the tears that were starting to spill down my cheeks in abundance. Both Noah and Becky hugged me as much as they possibly could with all of us stuck in our seats. Even the turbulence couldn't faze me anymore.
Life might actually be looking up.
•••
If there was one thing Lia knew how to do, it was how to keep me occupied and distracted. We spent most of the day chatting, which included a lot of me rambling about my chaotic love life - I only cried once - and her fawning over her wife and how she needed a change of occupation too. On top of that, we decided to have lunch at the hotel restaurant, where we promptly bumped into Becky, who allowed me to ask all the questions about the internship offered and then almost bowled me over in my chair when I asked the waiter for a pen to sign the contract straight away.
Since all of us had the night off, we ended up agreeing over several different group chats to go out big style - crew, Bad Omens, Bring Me The Horizon, well, and Lia. Even though she had a room of her own, she’d practically gathered half her suitcase and made a home in mine as we got ready together.
Yet, all she seemed to do was veto every outfit I showed her until we finally landed on an oversized pullover I used as a dress (just about sexy enough for her, comfortable enough for me, who wasn’t actually looking to attract anyone new that evening) and a pair of fishnet tights that would do nothing at all to protect me from the January cold but would hopefully look less out of place once we were inside again.
“So, what’s the plan with Noah, then?” Lia asked as she dropped down on my bed, spilling some of the setting powder in her hand and then trying to rub it into the duvet as if I hadn’t seen. “Because all I see right now is you and Oli sitting around waiting.”
“What else is there to do?” I sighed. I genuinely felt at a loss. We’d put the ball in his court. We’d told him how we felt. We left the decision up to him. But would all of that be enough?
“What’s the biggest issue right now? Like, what’s his fears?”
“Probably that Oli and I have a stronger connection with each other than either of us has with him. That we already know each other so well that he’ll be the one left out.”
“Sounds like you guys need more time together. The three of you. Completely ignoring what you and Oli might know about each other from before and just focus on finding yourselves in this relationship now.”
The silence lingered for a moment as both of us got lost in our thoughts, the mascara I was in the middle of applying now forgotten in my hand. I stared at myself in the mirror, made up and dressed up, and wondered who I was. Someone in love. Someone who was willing to fight for it. I was so over being passive.
“What can I do?”
“Well, first of all, put mascara on the other eye too because you look very asymmetrical.”
I rolled my eyes but did as she said, knowing that if I got too carried away, I’d completely forget about the rest of my makeup anyway.
“Give yourselves more time?” Lia offered.
“Tour ends tomorrow,” I thought out loud. “The Bad Omens tour isn’t until the 27th and the flight to Berlin is on the 26th. Now, I know Oli is completely free the next few days and I can ask around again but I’m pretty sure Noah has a break until then as well.”
Lia simply let out a hum in the background of my monologue, just to let me know she was still listening as I started scrolling through my phone, typing and searching.
“Fuck it,” I decided. “I’m booking us a family room for the next few days after tour. Nice hotel, just outside of Dublin. No distractions, no one else we know around us, no shows, no appointments, nothing. Just the three of us. There. Booked. Do you think the hotel can print something for me?”
Lia looked at me like a proud parent which was unnerving at best but I ignored it.
“I’m sure Oli would love to go and ask with you,” she grinned as I pulled on my shoes and was already halfway out the door, jacket and bag at the ready.
“Meet you downstairs in a few?”
“Will do! Don’t get distracted by Oli’s dick!”
•••
“What if he doesn’t even notice?”
“Of course he’ll fucking notice.”
“You don’t know that! He might not look this way and then just stumble over it!”
“What if we knock?”
“But we’re supposed to drop it off without him seeing!”
“Fine. I’ll knock and we’ll run and hide around the corner.”
“What are we, five?”
“Yes. I’m knocking now.”
I quickly dropped the printed paper along with the post-it stuck on top to the floor as Oli all but pounded on Noah’s hotel room door before bolting down the hallway with me and stopping just around the corner, pulling each other to safety and then peeking around just as we saw him step out, confused. We stayed hidden until we heard the door fall back into its lock and then spared another glance to make sure he had picked up our notes.
“You think he’s going to do it? Come with us for another few days?”
“Well, a luxurious hotel and both of us, he’d be stupid to refuse,” Oli chuckled, but I could tell the anxiety weighed on him just as heavily. There wasn’t much more to do, really. We’d told him about our feelings. We wanted to spend the small break that all of us had together, no distractions, just getting to know each other better and figuring out how this could work. It was truly his turn now.
“Come on, stop worrying that pretty head of yours so much,” Oli said, pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s get Lia and see what Dublin has to offer, yeah?”
I simply let myself fall into his arms a little as he led us toward the lifts, ready to forget about the ache in my heart just for a while.
•••
The night ended up not being all that wild, after all. Everyone was feeling the exhaustion from the past two weeks on tour. It didn’t mean that the pub we had all gathered it wasn’t in danger of running out of spirits, though. The mood was high and the volume in the room seemed to be getting louder by the minute. I’d already saved various people from Lia various times because if someone didn’t know how to shut her mouth when intoxicated, it was her. I’d currently lost track of her once again which was slightly worrying, but the more drinks Becky was providing me with, the less I cared. Her husband wasn’t back company either, although he seemed ever so slightly overwhelmed with the rowdy crowd around us.
“Are you excited to go on the Bad Omens tour then?” He asked, an arm around Becky, who was currently distracted by someone else who was telling her about some sound system or other, and I only briefly let myself fall into the yearning of having that kind of stable relationship, the kind of love that people would see from miles away without any of us doing anything, the kind of connection that shone through even when we weren’t talking.
“Did everyone but me know about this?”
“Well, yes,” he laughed. “As far as I know it was a joint venture, Becky, Lia, Oli and Noah all huddled together to make this happen. I guess you’re very loved.”
“God, don’t make me sappy now,” I chuckled but it was nothing but an attempt to keep the tears at bay. I’d been crying entirely too much lately, for a number of reasons, and I was getting a little tired of it.
I excused myself momentarily, citing a bathroom break, but found myself standing outside the pub instead. The cold air sent shivers up and down my body, but I didn’t mind all that much. It was a nice reminder that I wasn’t only in my head. That I was here right now. I flinched when a hand landed on my waist, a gesture so strangely intimate I knew it to be Noah before I registered anything else.
“So you two really want to spend more time with me alone after this tour?” he asked, jokingly, but he couldn’t fool me. I could see the insecurity in his eyes, in the way he stood, in the way his hand lingered on my body without quite grabbing it.
“Noah, love, I’ll always want to spend more time with you.” My hand was on his chest now, hard and lean under my fingertips, and it took all the strength I possessed not to pull him in and kiss him stupid. “If your tour wasn’t coming up so soon after, I’d probably have booked us in for a month.”
His fingers ildly played with the fabric of my makeshift dress. “Maybe-”
The door from the pub banged open with more force than it should have been able to. A rather tipsy Lia stumbled out, obnoxiously pointing at Noah as she came over.
“You! Folio threw up on the bar and they’re kicking him out and I’ve been told you’re the one to bother. He needs to get back to the hotel and you guys are sharing right? Come on. I’ll help.”
Noah sighed, deeply, but looked at me once more before turning away. “Can we talk later? The three of us? Not in my room though, for obvious reasons.”
“Sure,” I chuckled. “Oli’s room later? We can shoot you a text.”
“Perfect,” he said and then he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips and I could really believe this was going to work out.
•••
The night was dying down earlier than I would have expected, but both Oli and Mat kept loudly complaining that they were not 25 anymore after all. I bit back a comment about how that luckily hadn’t impacted Oli’s performance in bed. As more and more people started leaving, Oli clung to me, leaning his body on me with much more force than necessary, then giggling at the way I almost buckled under his weight. He was a little tipsy, just on the verge of it, and it made him all kinds of needy and whiny. Although I wasn’t quite sure if that was actually down to the alcohol or if he was simply in a mood.
“I want Noah,” he mumbled into my ear as he rested his head on my shoulder. It seemed horribly uncomfortable with the height difference, but I patted his hair in what I hoped would be a calming and reassuring gesture anyway. “I miss Noah.”
“I know, baby,” I cooed. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I can shoot him a text.”
“Please.”
The cold outside seemed to wake and sober him up considerably as we got into a cab to get back to the hotel. He immediately pulled me into the middle seat, claiming the distance was simply unacceptable.
“Thank you for helping with the job situation, by the way,” I whispered, as if it was a secret, just for the two of us. “The job, offering me a place to stay, getting me on this tour in the first place… I really don’t know how to ever thank you for everything you do for me, Oli.”
He grabbed my face then, gently, so I would look at him. Then he kissed me so deeply that I was getting lightheaded, all sensations swimming through my brain in one big mush as I allowed myself to drown in them, knowing he was holding me and keeping me safe.
“You could keep on loving me, that’s all I’ll ever ask for.”
“Well, that’s going to be very easy,” I giggled, pressing a kiss to his nose right as the driver announced our arrival.
The hotel was quiet as soon as we left the reception area. I wondered if Noah was still busy taking care of Folio. If I should text him immediately and ask him to come over. If he wanted to talk to us yet. My train of thought was interrupted when we arrived on our floor and none other than Lia left Noah and Folio’s room, quickly running over to us as I shushed her for being too loud in her heels.
“He’s finally stopped puking,” she gleefully announced. “I’m off to bed now. Noah… Well, get to your room. He’ll get in touch?”
“He’ll- what?” I asked, but Lia was already bouncing down the hallway again, refusing to stop for clarification. Oli simply shrugged his shoulders as he unlocked the door and held it open for me.
It only took a few moments.
The knock wasn’t as much as a surprise, considering we were basically waiting for Noah, but the fact that no one was there when we opened it felt a bit comical. Especially when we realised a folded up piece of paper was on the floor in front of us.
“This feels like payback,” Oli laughed breathlessly, quite obviously just as nervous about this as I was. I refused to let the overthinking get the better of me though as I bent down to pick it up and unfolded it while Oli closed the door again. When I saw the amount of text, I ushered him in the direction of the bed so we could sit on the edge and read it together. He had to help hold onto it so we could still be make out the words amid my shaking.
Aubrey, Oli, my loves.
I’ve spent the last day doing very little else but think about everything. I’ve been trying to find a winner in the war that kept waging in my head but it seemed impossible.
Well, Lia didn’t allow that. She’s quite a force, isn’t she? As soon as Folio was in bed, she basically held me at gunpoint (figuratively) while she told me what she thought about the situation and how much of a “fucking useless idiot” I was being. Then she made me write a pro and contra list on the back of this page because apparently that’s what she does when she can’t make a decision. I’m not sure if buying a new phone quite compares to this, but I humoured her. And I think it helped. Just don’t tell her that.
Noah
There was a slightly messed up heart drawn next to it. The hope was rising up in my throat like bile, threatening to make me throw up just from the sheer terror and excitement about what was happening. We were so close to an answer. This was the moment.
Oli nodded at me to turn the paper over as soon as he was also done reading. He looked white as a sheet and I was sure my own face mirrored it. My shaky fingers only got worse when I flipped the page over.
There was indeed a list in front of us. Lots of entries on the “pro” side. Ranging from “They make me laugh” to “I feel safe with them” and “They know I’m scared and they don’t mind”. The contra side was shorter, but still held a few bulletpoints. “The distance”, “Third wheel” and “How to make this work??” were scribbled there.
But none of that was the important part.
The important part was that the list had been crossed out, liberally, with a massive “x” over the whole page, making it a little harder to read some of the points. And in the middle of it, almost from one corner to the other, covering even more words, he had written one single sentence. One sentence that seemed to count more than all the others. That made everything else not matter. That made clear that he had come to a decision.
I AM IN LOVE WITH THEM.
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Part One: Merry Crisis 
It’s also on A03 (this chapter will go up too but not for a bit bc I have stupid adult work to do) 
Five days after New Years and Steve Harrington was haunting Eddie’s head.
This time at least, it was consensual. 
Mostly. 
“I thought you said New Year's resolutions were a total waste of time and a conformist’s mmrrph--” Gareth cuts off as a ringed hand claps (gently) over his mouth, Eddie’s glare burning a hole in the side of his best friend’s head. 
“No one asked you to comment.” Eddie informs him darkly.  
“He’s got you there, Eds.” Jeff teases, seated on a bin in Gareth’s garage, friends occupying the couch across from him. “It is one of your yearly rants.” 
“New Years Resolutions are just a convenient way for normies to understand my quests.” Eddie sniffs, ignoring the fact that he’d been going on about this since he showed up, several hours ago.    
 He releases Gareth’s mouth, springing up to pace another circuit round the garage. “I refuse to repeat another year in this god-awful high school--and!” 
Spinning on his heels, Eddie flings a hand in the air, the exact same way he had when he auditioned for Sherlock Holmes in Hawkin High’s performance of Hounds of Baskerville. “It is my duty as Hellfire’s DM to figure out what the hell those freshmen are wrapped up in with Harrington!” 
“Rii-iiight.” Gareth remarks. “I’m sure your obsession with this has nothing to do with those, what did you call them?”
Grant covers a laugh with a cough as Gareth pretends to think before saying: “Harrington’s big ol’ puppy dog eyes?”
Eddie’s face goes red. “I told you, I’m not crushing on Steve!” 
“Bro.” Grant says, expression calling out Eddie’s lie better than words ever could. 
“The entire planet knows you have a crush on him, Eds.” Gareth adds, leveling his best friend with a knowing look. “Frankly I’m amazed Steve himself hasn’t figured it out.”
“Shut it!” Eddie hissed, face aflame. “This is about everything else!  What he’s hiding! Why the kids--”
“--worship him.” Jeff, Grant and Gareth all finish as one, their impromptu chorus deflating Eddie like a sad balloon.
“We know.” Grant says. “You think Harrington and the kids are wrapped up in some kind of crazy conspiracy that's eating them all alive and because you have a compulsive desire to solve every mystery put in front of you, you can’t leave it alone. This is starting to become something you should really like, work on man.” 
Eddie turns his glare on Grant. 
“You need to drop out of that AP psychology class.” He demands with another sniff. “It’s rotting your brain.”
“Uh huh.” Grant says, voice dripping in sarcasm. 
“You;’ll see.” Eddie mutters as he resumes his pacing. “You’ll all see when I finally figure it out. You’ll be all,” Eddie straightens, clutching his hands together and squeezing them against his chest, “Oh-my-gawd, Eddie, holy shit, you were so right, they were hiding a huge secret!” 
“Keep dreamin’ bud.” Jeff says flatly, prompting laughs from Gareth and Grant.
Eddie takes off a shoe and throws it at him. 
(Jeff swears it was worth it.) 
xXx
10 days after New Years and Steve Harrington was right there.
Right.
There.
It would be easy to walk across the parking lot, strike up a conversation. Hell, the kids' presence makes it even easier, Eddie knows all he has to do is talk about them before Steve drives them home. 
He just--has to do it. 
"You do know the first step is actually talking to him right?" Jeff teases, leaning against the school’s doorway.
Eddie startles, flushing scarlet. 
"Shut up!" He snaps, turning around to run his hand over his face.
 God why was this so hard!? 
He's talked to plenty of people. Hell, he's talked to Harrington before. Talking was the thing  Eddie arguably did best and suddenly he just fucking…couldn't!? 
"He's waving at you." Jeff observes. 
Eddie whips back around to face the parking lot--to find that Harrington wasn't even facing their direction.
Jeff chuckles. 
"Oh screw you!" Eddie shoves  his shoulder into Jeff’s, glowering. 
Jeff playfully nudges him back. "Just go talk to him man. He didn't bite at the party, and he left you that note, so he's clearly open to it." 
"I know.” Eddie grumbles, moving so he could lean against the opposite side of the doorway. 
“So what’s holding you back?” Jeff turns to look at him now, as Eddie tangles a finger into a few strands of his hair. “It’s not like you hesitate instead of jumping into something head first.” 
Eddie hides in his hair for a moment, unsure of how he wanted to handle this question.
Jeff knew he was gay. All the Corroded Coffin guy’s knew he was gay, after the first (and last) time he tried to buy product from a supplier that wasn’t Rick. 
(Eddie was smart, but he’d been young back then. Hadn’t caught on to the fact the weed he’d been sold was laced with who-knew-what. 
What he did know was that when he and the boys tried it out; Grant had given a very emotional speech about love and acceptance, Jeff wouldn’t stop hugging people, Gareth ended up crying over gender issues and Eddie had admitted he was flamingly gay. 
He never bought from another supplier again, even if he did technically owe the guy who’d brought him and his best friends closer together.) 
Being gay wasn’t exactly the issue.
It was being gay, and having a blatant crush on Steve--the guy who the Hellfire kids loved. The guy who had surprised Eddie by being decent and downright fun. 
The guy who kept insisting he and Buckley were “Platonic with a Capital P”and even with Robin climbing all over him like a lemur, he had in fact kept his hands and eyes to perfectly respectable places. 
Who was practically built to appeal to Eddie, between his stupid sexy smile and the weird mystery he was wrapped up in, the same one that caused his smiles to drop the second he knew no one was paying attention. 
Add in the fact he’d played D&D once before and it was like God had made Eddie’s perfect match.
Of course because Eddie’s relationship with a deity of any kind was agonistic at best, they’d made Steve not only the straightest man to ever rule a high school, but also dangled him in front of Eddie constantly. 
Like a treat he could never, ever have, but will always crave. 
“Oh he’s actually waving at you this time.” Jeff says, and despite the high chance of this being another joke, Eddie looks anyway. 
Sure enough there was Harrington, dumb little grin on his face, waving his hand.
Eddie managed to get his brain to function long enough to wave back. 
“Wow Eds, you actually waved at him. That’s a lot of progress for you.” Gareth chimes in, appearing in between his friends with a smirk. 
“We’re proud of you buddy.” Grant adds, standing behind Gareth. 
Eddie groans aloud. “I hate you all.” He mutters, trying to keep a smile on his face for Steve until the guy turns back to herald the children into the car.
“No you don’t.” Gareth sing-songs, to the snickers of Jeff and Grant. 
And no, he doesn't--but fuck if Eddie didn’t want to wring all their necks. 
xXx
January 13th, Eddie finally gets his first resolution breakthrough.
It came in the form of Sinclair’s girlfriend, oddly enough, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
“I’m not Lucas’s girlfriend.” The redhead spat, which Eddie thought was a hell of a lot of anger for someone who he had not been formally introduced to but had flung herself into his passenger seat anyway, with a declaration that he would drive her home. 
(He, of course, had been about to protest until Max reminded him with a glare that they were neighbors--which had the effect of making Steve look relieved, like Eddie was doing him some kind of massive favor.
A favor Eddie wanted.
“For totally normal non crush related reasons Gareth, god!”) 
Currently Max is staring out the window as Eddie drives home, arms crossed and in a full sulk.
Eddie recognizes it in her the same way he recognizes it in himself, and knows intimately that he has a chance to be to her, what Wayne was to him.
Someone who didn’t just see the problems he had, but acted on them. 
That began with a conversation. 
“So not that sitting in awkward silence isn’t totally fun, but uh, why am I driving you home instead of Harrington?” Eddie asks, watching Max out of the corners of his eyes. 
She doesn’t even flinch. “What, and miss the chance to ride in the drug mobile?” 
He expects the snappish response but has to give Max credit--she is absolutely the most vicious of Steve’s kids. 
“Ok fair,” He says, because getting angry back was what she wanted. Or at least, what Eddie wanted, back when he was in Max’s shoes. “But don’t all you kids like, worship King Steve? Thought you’d want your beloved babysitting to drive you home..” 
Max’s shoulders hunch immediately, her jaw clenching. “Don’t call him that.”
“Babysitter?” Eddie questions. 
“King Steve, you ass.” She bites back. “If you like him like Lucas and Dustin swear you do, then you wouldn’t be an dick.”  
Quieter, she mutters, “He hates that nickname.” 
“Hate to break it to you, but Steve gave himself that nickname.” Eddie says, if only to buy time while he swallows the fact that the kids have decided he and Steve aren't just cool with each other, but like each other.
Obviously not like-like, as in romantic like, because they weren't psychic, but--
'Focus, idiot! Max is still talking!' 
Max rolls her eyes, huffing angrily as she finally tears her gaze away from the window. “You don’t get it.” 
“I sure as shit don’t and won’t.” Eddie agrees easily, and has to look away to keep the laughter off his face at the confused look it nets him. “Not unless you want to clue me in.” 
She chews over that for a moment, before apparently coming to a decision. “You’re annoying.” 
“Oh come on Red, if you’re gonna insult me at least do it right. Annoying is boring.” Eddie fakes a yawn, and this time does laugh at Max’s outright offended face. 
Thankfully, the antics get him exactly what he wants. 
An answer. 
"Steve saw the real world and decided he wanted to be a better person. To grow up and leave all the stupid high school petty shit behind." Max says, and for a moment it's almost like she's speaking to someone else.
Likely the person she really is mad at, Eddie assumes. 
"Calling him King Steve just takes all that progress away, and for what? Cause you're jealous?" 
She's on a roll now. Eddie remains silent, knowing Max needs to get this out.
That this rant isn't aimed at him. 
"You're mad that things were easy for him? Because newsflash, they weren't. He put in the effort to be a good guy, could even," Max fakes a dramatic gasp, "--apologize!" 
An idea takes shape, both of the unsurprising source of the younger teens' hurt and frustration, and why she at least defends Harrington so hard.
Eddie may not know how exactly Max fits into "The Party" (or even who all is included within it) but it's clear she's just as close to Steve as the rest.
Maybe even a touch moreso, in a way that's eclipsed by Henderson alone. 
Max is still going. "Steve's a genuinely good person and he's earned the right to be acknowledged as one!" 
Her eyes are wet when she finishes and Max angrily swipes at them with her sleeve. 
Eddie knows better than to comment on it, but does take a moment to think her words over. 
"Have you seen it too?" He decides to ask. It's the part that sticks out to him, so it becomes the thread he decides to pull. 
Max blinks. "What?"
"The real world. Have you seen it too?"
"Yeah." Max admits, after a long moment of silence, chewing on her lower lip. "I did. And I wish I hadn't." 
"Sucks huh?"
"You don't know half of it."
"I might not know the exact parts you saw," Eddie agrees, as he pulls up in front of his trailer. "But I have seen plenty of other nasty bits and bobs." 
He puts his van in park. "Just because the monster changes shape doesn't make it any less of a danger, you know?" 
Max sits with that for a moment. Eddie sits with her, his music on even if he has the volume turned down low. 
Waits to see if she'll say more, or if this is all he's getting. 
There’s a slight hesitation--as if for a moment, Max considers opening up--but something in her balks and she opens the door instead. 
“Thanks for the ride.” She grumbles, quiet enough that he almost doesn’t hear, before slamming the door and walking fast to her trailer.
The lights are off, and the car he knows belongs to her mother isn’t in the driveway. 
It’s not unusual to be home alone at this hour. Not for Hawkins kids, and especially not for trailer park kids like them, but for the first time, Eddie finds himself wondering how often she’s alone. 
“Hey, Red!” He calls, as he makes his way out of the van. 
She turns to look at him, and Eddie realizes he must be getting a glimpse of what every adult used to see in him. Fury and discontent, all rolling over a sadness that’s bone deep and afraid to face daylight. 
“You ever wanna explain it to me, you’re welcome to come over.” He says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at his own trailer. 
“Whatever.” Max says with an eye roll, before storming to her front door. 
Eddie waits for the lights to go on, before retreating back to his own house, feeling like he at least established something.
Even if it was just proof that he wasn’t going to blow up or brush her off like everyone else.
xXx  
January 13th's luck didn't end there.
A few hours after Eddie made sure Steve's attack chihuahua child made it home safe, a car pulls up in front of her trailer. 
Curious (and nosey as fuck) Eddie peers out the window to spot Harrington’s Beemer flick its lights off, owner crawling out and up to Max's front door with an arm full of takeout.
Steve stands there for a while, alternating between knocking and not-quite yelling, before finally putting the food down.
Eddie knows now that Steve's some kind of pseudo parent to these kids, that the intent he has towards them is a combination of brotherly and maternal. 
Can't help himself from the opportunity that arises when Harrington moves to peek into one of Max's trailer windows, though. 
"Damn Harrington," Eddie calls out, after quietly slipping onto his front porch. "Didn't know you were the kinda creep to stare into teenage girl's windows."
Steve spins, startled, and nearly goes down on the gravel while doing so. 
Eddie laughs--it's like watching Bambi on ice--but regrets it immediately when the younger man trots over to him. 
Puts his hands up and is about to defend himself out of sheer habit. 
"Is she okay?" Steve asks, trotting up the two steps so he can lower his voice. 
Eddie wiggles his raised hands in a “maybe” sort of gesture before lowering them. 
“She’s fine right now, but she’s definitely upset.” 
Steve hums, peering worriedly at the opposing trailer, takeout food sitting innocently by Max’s door. “
“She’s been upset for a while. I just…” He trails off, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do for her, you know? She’s not as easy to figure out as the others.”
Which isn’t the least bit surprising. At least, it isn’t to Eddie. 
While he can’t speak for their missing fourth member, the remaining three freshmen are the kind to wear their emotions on their sleeves, in their own ways. Mike and Dustin compete for loudest but even Lucas, the most likely to let things go, eventually explodes. 
All Harrington has to do to handle any of their issues is simply see that something is wrong, and then ask about it. 
The drive from the high school to the trailer park took less than fifteen minutes but in them, Eddie knew immediately that Max was far more like himself at heart. Angry at everything and everyone, using insults or humor to distract from her real problems. 
Eddie now was better than he was, the eleven year old kid who’d been dumped on his Uncle, extremely wary of adults and furious at the world at large. 
Like recognizes like though, even if he’s made progress. 
“I think the best thing you can do is keep being there for her.” Eddie admits quietly, because this is an area he can actually provide some insight for.  “That all that anger isn’t going to push you away. Just don’t be surprised if it takes her a while to understand you won’t abandon her like everybody else did.”
“Huh.” Steve says, and Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that Steve is taking him seriously. Not after the not-Christmas party, but he is. 
That’s part of the mystery of Steve Harrington, after all. 
The way Steve never quite reacts the way Eddie thinks he’s going to. 
“If she doesn’t take the food can you let me know?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad about it that Eddie couldn’t possibly refuse, even if he’d wanted to. 
“Sure thing man.” He agrees. 
Harrington watches Max’s door for a moment longer before heaving himself off the porch with a sigh
“Oh,” He says, turning around partway to his car. “ We’re gonna have a movie night next Friday night. You should come.” 
‘Bing-fucking-go.’ 
“Well how could I say no to the King himself? Tell me the time and I’ll be there.” Eddie says, and then watches Steve’s face as he winces. 
Apparently, Red was right. 
Steve doesn’t rip his head off for the nickname though. Plows right on ahead, as if Eddie hadn’t called him it at all. 
"We were planning on making it just the adults--or at least, not the freshmen.” He nods towards Max’s trailer. 
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Oh I’m sure they’re just delighted to be left out.” 
"You’d be surprised.” Steve says with a long-suffering look. “I've been informed I need more adult friends." 
Eddie can’t help but tease, though he softens his voice and grins to take the teeth out of it. "Band geek and a bunch of fourteen years olds not good enough for you?" 
"You’re forgetting my ex girlfriend." Steve adds, with his own self deprecating tone. 
“Well damn  Harrington, guess the town freak might actually be a step up for you!” Eddie says, loving that this version of Steve is willing to banter like this. 
“I dunno man, I think that nickname might be overhyped.” Steve says, and there’s that grin back on his face, the one he wore when he was stealing meaningless corporate trophies out of his father’s office. “I don’t think you’re that freaky at all.” 
He dips down in a movement that takes Eddie a moment to realize is him mimicking the curtsey he had given Eddie at the Christmas party, before getting in the Beemer. 
Then he’s gone, leaving Eddie trying to recover on the porch, wondering if the last part of that conversation actually happened or if he just wanted it so badly he dreamed the whole thing.
(When he looks back over to Max’s trailer, the takeout by the door is gone.) 
xXx 
20 days after New Years and Eddie didn’t know what he expected from a movie night at Steve’s-- but it wasn’t getting his ass kicked at beer pong. 
Of course, this may have been his fault. 
It started when Steve, three beers into a home recording of Animal House, made an off comment about Nancy Wheeler once putting all of Hawkin’s to shame at a party. 
(“Her aim has always been insane.” He'd added, as Nancy rolled her eyes and tried to hide her pleased grin behind a hand.  
Eddie had been a little surprised to see Steve hadn’t been kidding about Nancy coming--but also realized that Steve might have been serious when he’d joked about not really having a lot of friends. 
In Eddie's head, a miniature bat version of himself donned a detective's hat and cape, whipping out a notepad to dutifully write down; ‘Clue one: Steve has very few friends.’
“You, Nancy Wheeler, beat out four teams of dumb jocks…at beer pong?” Eddie asked, in total disbelief. 
“I did.” Nancy told him smugly. “And I could do it again.” 
“Really?” Eddie had said and it hadn’t been intended as a challenge, but it was taken as one.)
 Three games in, the beer having a long run out (they were actually playing “Vodka Shot Ball") and Eddie has to concur. 
Nancy Wheeler was in fact, god’s gift to throwing small orange balls into cups.
“How are you doing this!?” Eddie yells, throwing his hands in the air as Nancy sinks her last shot, Robin shrieking in victory behind her. 
Hand on her hip, Nancy gives him a lazy, smug smile. “I suppose,” She says, tilting her head, sounding for all the world like a cat who’s caught a canary, “--it would be my incredibly good aim.”
 Robin, who previously had been paired with Steve before insisting they switch (and who is more than a little drunk), shouts; “Take that Munson!” before grabbing Nancy’s wrists, pulling her into a dance. 
Laughing, Nancy goes with her, their celebration a stark contrast to the other half of the table where Steve is leaning heavily on his elbows. 
"Alright. Maybe, you do have some ungodly skills." Eddie admits, putting his hands on his head. “Forgive me for doubting you, oh Queen of beer pong.” 
"Oh, now you admit it?" Steve mutters playfully, head hanging low. "Couldn't have done it before I ran out of beer?"
"Hush Harrington, you enjoyed it." Eddie grins knocking a hip into his teammates
He too, is more than a touch drunk, despite having been on Nancy’s team for the prior two rounds. 
Vodka-Shot Ball, as it turns out, is enough to really mess a person up if you miss enough. 
"Did I?” Steve moans, before hiccupping.
(“Harrington you’re a jock, are you missing on purpose!?” Eddie had asked early in this game, when Steve’s shots had gone from fairly decent to fucking abysmal. 
“He’s two shots in, Eddie.” Robin had spoken for her soulmate, as she aimed a ball at a cup. “All those concussions don’t play nice with hard alcohol. Why do you think I switched sides?”
“I’ll remember this betrayal, Rob.” Steve grumbled in response. “See if I ever do your hair for you again.”
Batective Eddie promptly scribbled; ‘Clue Two, Steve has had a lot of concussions and can no longer handle a lot of hard liquor’ down on his notepad, puffing on his little old-timey pipe. ‘Also he does hair.’) 
“Now that Stubbornson over here has finally admitted defeat,” Steve says, “Can we please go lay down? We're way too drunk for another round.” 
“Speak for yourself, Lightweight. I’m fine.” Eddie tells him, walking towards the door to the kitchen.
Of course life cannot tolerate him being smooth and so Eddie walks dead-on into the closed glass door rather than the open one next to it. 
He staggers back and loses his balance, falling hard on his ass. 
“Shit!” Someone curses. 
“You okay Eddie?” Someone else asks.
“Yeah.” He moans, rubbing at his head. 
Wheeler appears next to him, shooing his hands away from his face so she could examine him. 
“You’re an idiot.” Nancy informs him calmly, hands expertly checking his head. Her touch is professional, but Eddie's surprised by it anyway, “But I think you’ll live.” 
Eddie squints up at her. “How come you’re not drunk?” He asks, and okay, yeah, he definitely hears the slur in his voice this time. 
"I only had three drinks across all three games." Nancy informs him sweetly. "None of them were vodka."
"I hate you." Eddie moans dramatically, before opting to lay down on the porch. 
“No you don’t.” Nancy says confidently, and then pats his head, before getting up from her crouch. “How are you doing Steve?”
“Kill me.” Comes Harrington's voice from across the patio, sounding very pathetic. 
Eddie wishes he could pet his head.  
“Denied!” Robin calls out. “Don’t even joke about that dingus, you got too close last summer as it was.”
(Batective Eddie, swaying a little with a beer bottle in his paw, tries to write that down.
He somewhat succeeds.) 
Nancy disappears for a moment and Eddie wills himself to sit up--or at the very least roll to where Harrington and Buckley are. 
"I'm going to drive myself and Robin home.”  Nancy announces as she reappears, alongside a hovering bottled water. 
Gratefully, he takes it.
With a tone that’s only this side of too-sweet, she asks; “Eddie? Would you like a ride?”
He considers it.
On one hand, that means he leaves his van here. So someone else has drive him to get it back in the morning (unless Harrington drives it to him and while Eddie finds himself weirdly unopposed to that idea, he doesn’t want to impose.
…Or inflict the current sad state of his van’s interior on Steve before he knows the guy better.) 
On the other hand, he’s clearly too drunk to drive, which means more time with a drunk Steve Harrington.
That’s gotta be good for figuring out clues, right? 
(In his head, Batective Eddie shoots him a thumbs up from where he lays, facedown on the floor.) 
 "If I get into a car I’m going to hurl." He announces. “So I’m gonna pass.” 
Nancy makes a very unlady like noise, and Eddie grins, finally managing to lurch up to his elbows. “Nancy Wheeler was that a snort!?” He teases gleefully, as she rolls her eyes. 
“Maybe.” She says, then holds out a hand. 
Eddie slaps his in it, but does his best not to pull on her. Instead he mostly uses her for balance as he works his way to his feet. 
“You guys get home safe okay?” Steve says, voice uncharacteristically serious as Robin helps him up from the pool chair he'd collapsed in. “Check in when you do.” 
That’s weird--Eddie half expects it to be some sort of inside joke or macho, alpha man type comment but instead both Robin and Nancy nod seriously. 
“We will.” Nancy promises. “Thank you for inviting me, Steve. Nice meeting you properly, Eddie.” 
She gifts him with a smile, an honest one, before guiding Robin out the door. 
Who screams; “Bye losers, love you!” as she exits.  
(Eddie thinks this might be another moment for Batective Eddie except he’s sort of getting a headache and kinda just wants to sleep rathe than envision his Sherlock Holmes styled bat-self.) 
They follow the ladies in, Eddie beelining for the first cough he sees. 
“You can sleep it off here.” Steve tells him, zombie-walking to his fridge. He pulls out a soda and chugs it as Eddie falls face first into couch cushions, taking a moment to let his stomach settle before adjusting to a better position. 
"Nah I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second." Eddie mumbles. “Be fine in a ‘lil bit, promise.” 
Does so, and enjoys the sweet, sweet darkness that envelops him. 
He jerks awake a moment later, blinking hard in the dark. A blanket has been draped over him, and his shoes kicked off, though judging from where they landed Eddie thinks he’s done that part himself.
A glance at his wristwatch reveals it's 1 AM, and Eddie goes to scrub his eyes with his hands.
Shit, he hadn't intended to stay this long. 
Harrington’s creepy Christmas shit’s all gone, replaced by walls so blank they look almost sterile. 
It creates a different, quieter vibe that's almost more spooky than the Santa-themed tomb Eddie had previous seen. The large windows throw shadows across the open space, like elongated fingers. It covers parts of the room in thick darkness, giving the appearance than anything could be hiding within them. 
There's blankets on the couch catty-corner to Eddie’s. They're rucked up, and the sound of running water abruptly clues Eddie in to where Steve might be. 
A golden glow erupts from the kitchen, then off again, before repeating the pattern.  
( Batective Eddie returns with a squeak, frantically waving a sign. 
It reads ‘Steve is afraid of flickering lights, remember!?’) 
The noise in the kitchen has gone eerily quiet. The bad kind, that makes the hairs on his neck stand up, and Eddie rolls off the couch and to his feet, making his way to the kitchen. 
Comes around the corner to see Steve frozen halfway to the stove, his head craned upward at the ceiling lights. 
Eddie knew that whatever had happened, a clear trigger for all those involved (the kids, Harrington, hell even Nancy Wheeler that one time in the library--) was electrical issues in lights. 
He clears his throat, the sound coming out like more of a growl. He coughs to clear it, then sidles closer. 
Steve has a stillness to his body that Eddie doesn’t clock until it’s too late, his hand already reaching out to tap the taller man’s shoulder. 
"Hey, uh Steve?"
Gets the shock of his life when Steve yanks his shoulder away, spinning back and around like he's been burned. 
Eddie gets a flash of wide brown eyes, glassy and wild, before a frying pan is swung at his head. 
"What the hell Harrington!" Eddie yelps, falling down on his ass and scrambling backwards, pan missing his head by inches. 
(Envisions in his head his Batective self throwing his notes in the air, taking flight with a startled “Fleeeee!”)
Harrington stands over him. Looks just like Wayne did that one time a car battery caught fire and exploded near the trailer. 
Like he was somewhere else, and prepared to do what he had to in order to get back. 
Chest heaving, Eddie put aside all thoughts of stupid bats and did what he did best.
Talked.
xXx
20 days after New Years, Steve almost takes Eddie's head off with a frying pan. 
Doesn't realize he's swung it like a weapon until he hears the surprised shout, his brain too steeped in adrenaline and old fears. 
Freezes, because the shout sounds like one of the kids but he doesn’t remember them being here...
"--eve?"
"What?" He asks, the ringing slowly easing as his tunnel vision does. 
He'd heard the growl, saw the lights flicker…
A gentle hand presses into his bicep, and he finds himself staring into Eddie Munson’s eyes. 
The guy has a sort of look on his face that says he's trying his best not to freak out, but then Steve blinks and it's gone. 
Replaced with something gentle, if cautious. 
"You wouldn't mind if I just," Eddie trails off as his ringed fingers slowly stroke down Steve's arm, before carefully taking hold of the pan’s handle. "--took this, aye love?"
It's the nickname that brings Steve back fully, and he loosens his grip on the pan, surrendering it to Munson. 
"Thank you Steve." He says, leaning to put the pan back on the stove, far out of Steve's current reach. 
Then his hands return to Steve's wrists, and he finds himself staring at them in confusion.
Not because he doesn't know what happened--he does.
It's  more that he's shocked Eddie is still willing to touch him after he nearly brained him. 
"There's egg on the floor." Steve says, because it's the easiest thought to have at the moment. 
Easier than apologizing. 
Definitely easier than explaining.
"We'll clean the egg up later." Eddie says firmly, and Steve's never heard him use that tone of voice before. Firm and unyielding, like he has all the answers.
It's the kind of voice Steve can surrender his anxiety to and he finds himself almost sinking into it. 
If Munson asked him to walk over a cliff just then, he would be more than a little tempted.
"Let's go sit down, just for a few minutes." Eddie tells him, a gentle tug on his wrists and Steve finds himself breathing out, his body shivering with the release of stress. 
He nods, unable to speak, and allows himself to be maneuvered out into his living room, then down on one of the loveseats. 
Eddie sits next to him, his thigh a line of grounding heat pressed against Steve's leg and he focuses on it to keep himself in the present. 
"You back with me?"
Steve works his throat, hyper aware of how dry it is. "Yeah." He says.
Then adds, "sorry."
"Don't apologize, man. I've done plenty of trip sitting in my day. I know a panic attack when I see one."
Steve vaguely wants to ask what the hell trip sitting is, but finds himself unconsciously leaning towards Eddie instead. 
Somehow he doesn't mind, even though Steve's practically squished up against him. Not that Eddie's ever been one to care about personal space, but Steve knows there's a difference between a teasing joke and whatever this is. 
Eddie's thumb begins to rub gentle, grounding circles into the meat of Steve's wrist. 
It gives his eyes something to track and gratefully Steve does, so he doesn't have to look Eddie in the face. 
Isn't sure he can clear the tears trying to wet his eyes in time to brush this off. 
Claim it's nothing serious.
"You wanna talk about it?" Eddie asks and somehow Steve didn't account for how direct the metalhead could be.
The tears strengthen and for a moment his vision blurs with them, before he sucks in a shuddering breath and forces himself back under control. 
'God Steven, toughen up.' His father's voice rings out in his head, the memory branded into Steve's very being. 'It's ridiculous how much you cry. Do you think anyone wants to put up with that?'
Steve had answered no then, tone wobbling. 
"I--" He starts, "--signed an NDA."
Which is not, at all, what he meant to say, but too late now. 
"The cops and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, your secrets are safe with me." Eddie says, entirely unphased. 
Which ghosts a smile over Steve’s face at least, even as he finds himself totally lost. 
How exactly is he supposed to explain this? 
The Upside Down, the Russians, hell even the way he's become hyper vigilant?
That certain words or references act like bullets, sending him to the floor in a spiral of burning panic? 
Nevermind his finely honed instinct to use anything as a weapon when startled.
Sensing his discomfort, Eddie hums quietly before making a suggestion. "How about you tell me a totally fake, very unreal  story?"
Steve croaks a laugh. 
"I'm a really bad story teller." He warns. 
"Practice makes perfect." Eddie tells him, leaning his shoulder into the taller man's. 
Grateful--and feeling more than a little pathetic--Steve finds himself seeking out the touch. 
"Okay." He agrees quietly, with a jerky nod of his head. "A--completely untrue, over exaggerated story. I can do that." 
So he does. 
xXx 
The story Steve tells in halting, fumbling bursts of words involves monsters, the supernatural, government secrets and coverups. 
The latter half of which doesn't even surprise Eddie--anyone with half a brain could see the sheer number of incidents that happened one after another was a cover up for something big-- but he can't help himself from trying to detangle reality from fiction. 
Monsters he gets. It's easier to pretend the bad guy is an evil creature than a real person, to distance yourself from it in such a way it feels fake. 
The supernaturally gifted girl is a little harder, but if you replace superpowers with some poor kid involved in some kind of shitty, abusive government program, then he can buy it. 
What Steve never explains, is what set him off. 
Eddie tells him so. 
"I told you I was a bad storyteller." Steve says in response, which isn’t an explanation but then, Eddie realizes he is pushing awful hard for a guy who he barely knows to bare his soul--and who, in turn, barely knows him.
Not really anyway.
Not outside of rumors and old wounds. 
"Is there anything that ever helps you feel safer?" 
"People." Steve says immediately. "People always help but ah, well." His smile is pained, self deprecating. "I can't exactly ask for sleepovers every night, can I?”
He shrugs. “So I just keep a few things close.' 
"A few things?"
"My nailbat."
"Is the nailbat a bat…with nails in it?" Eddie hedges, desperately attempting to keep a calm, straight face because what the fuck? 
But this was a no judging zone, and it wasn’t as if a bat with nails in it was the weirdest thing Eddie had ever encountered. Not since Uncle Wayne’s friends informed him they had at minimum, seventeen guns hidden in their own trailer across town. 
‘Things are happening at night, kid. Bad things. Don’t go too far into the woods looking for trouble.’
"Maybe." Steve admits. 
"How about instead of hugging a nail bat to sleep, if things get bad you come over. Wayne works the night shift and I have insomnia anyways." 
"Really?" 
Eddie can’t blame him for sounding surprised. 
"Yeah man. No skin off my nose, though you will be stuck hearing my beautiful sweetheart. She's a guitar sent from heaven. "
"I can handle that." He says, a smile ghosting across his face. 
Then; "Thanks Eddie."
Eddie presses his shoulder against Steve’s. "Anytime, big boy." 
(Crisis over, Batective Eddie returns, swooning. 
Eddie mentally squashes him under his own notes.) 
517 notes · View notes
dangerkittenclaws · 4 months
Text
simon x medic!ed!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: eating disorder thoughts, actions, consequences, fainting, unestablished relationship, mutual pining ftw
a/n: have this blurb of hurt/comfort that came to me while i work on requests and part 3 of pop. luv u <3
You wake up in bed with a horrendous stomachache. You tap your phone beside you, it reads 3:48am. You throw your covers off of you, covered in sweat.
You roll to your back before immediately curling up with your arms held tight around your stomach to stave off the cramping.
When was the last time you had eaten? Right. That's something that normal people do.
It had only been…two.. three.. you count in your head. Four…days? That's not that bad, is it? You’ve gone longer.
Another pang shoots through your midsection. Noone else would be in the rec room to watch you eat.
Cereal. Cereal is what your stomach wanted. Something sweet and full of sugar and carbohydrates. You think you’ve seen a box of Choco Rice in the cabinet.
Your brain fights back equally, the Chinese takeout you had the other day with everyone would be enough to hold you over until lunch tomorrow. It was full of carbohydrates. More than enough, surely. You could throw the cereal up after too, that was always an option.
You should know, as a medic, how nutrition works. Of course you know and you tell others, but ignore every bit of logical information when it comes to your own wellbeing. You don’t count in that particular equation.
“Fuck it,” you mumble to yourself as you turn over to throw your legs over the side. You don't even bother with slippers and you open your door as quietly as possible, the other hand gripping the hem of your damp shirt.
Your vision goes dark around the edges and you reach out for the wall of the hallway to stabilize you. You touch a hand to your forehead before moving on.
You enter the rec room at the end of the hallway where the hulking figure of Simon is leaning over a steeping cup of tea. He turns at your rather noisy entrance.
Shit. You didn’t want anyone here. You can always take it back to your room.
Dizziness fills your head and you become unfocused, still leaning against the doorframe.
“You alright there?”
“Yeah, uh, I…,” you take a few steps forward and another cramp twists in your stomach, hunching you forward.
“Clearly not,”
“No, I, sorry, I just feel dizzy, just forgot to eat yesterday,” you explain wildly trying to complete your mission before you get asked any more questions.
You know Simon is watching your every move. You try to control your movements, to try to stop your hands from shaking as your blood sugar is dropping dangerously low.
You open the cabinet and grab out a bowl for yourself. You stare at the empty bowl on the counter for longer than necessary, trying to make your eyes focus on the task at hand. The more you stare the harder it is to stay standing straight, you realize.
Simon gets close to you, and you feel a hand at your back. You tip backwards and crumble. “Fuck,” is the last thing you hear.
You come to on the rec couch, letting out a whine.
“There you are, love.” Simon comes into view.
“Now you want to tell me why you just passed out on me?”
Your face goes red and you want to implode and disappear. You cover your face with your inner elbow.
“No hiding. Tell me. Please.”
“I…I haven’t eaten.” you nearly whisper.
“Right, in how long?” his long fingers graze over your other arm, like he’s trying to calm a scared cat.
“Just since yesterday morning,” you lie.
You see his eyes catch your glance over, you know you’ve been caught. Why did you even try with him? It’s like he has a sixth sense. You know this.
“Try again.”
“Four…four days.”
“Let’s get something in you so you don’t pass out again, that sound okay?”
You nod in agreement.
“You stay here, I’ll bring you something.” He touches your arm again to reassure you.
“‘kay.” you mumble out, turning on your side. Your vision is better and you can focus a bit, but you don’t let your eyes wander, it makes your stomach drop. You close them to be safe.
You don’t know how long you lay there with your eyes shut, ears listening to Simon puttering around the stove.
“You want to sit up for me?” Simon is there, holding a plate above you. You don’t know what it holds.
You manage to prop yourself up a bit backed up to the armrest, bending your legs to sit cross legged. You realize you probably look ragged and pathetic to the lieutenant.
Simon lowers the plate to put in your lap, you finally see what mystery food he made you.
It’s still steaming scrambled eggs and a piece of buttered toast. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. It’s a lot.
He reads your mind before you can speak.
“Don’t expect you to finish. Just need something in you. We can figure out the rest in the morning. The real morning.”
You smile at him, picking up the fork. You look down at the plate. You choose a medium piece of egg to stab first.
“Ill just be in there cleaning up, okay, love?” You look up at him and give a small nod before turning back to the daunting task in your lap.
Not all of it. Just a little. Just enough.
You lift the fork to your mouth and the moment the eggs hit your tongue you salivate. You realize how desperately hungry you really are. They’re buttery and salty and perfect.
Before you know it, there's another forkful and another, a few bites of toast too.
Your stomach is protesting at the sudden change but you can tell you’ll be able to keep it down this time.
Simon made it for you. You have to keep it down. You can’t let him know how long this has really been going on, they’ll discharge you and it’ll be a big fuck up. You’d gone too far already, fainting in front of your team, by god. Simon walks back into the room to check on you.
“You did great, love.” You give him a small smile before turning back to the tv to watch whatever late night talk show was on.
You set the nearly empty plate on the coffee table in front of you. The sight of it makes you sick.
He sits next to you with an arm around the back of the couch. You curl up into his side, trying to suck up the warmth he’s radiating.
His arm moves down to your shoulder and he pulls you in closer. You don’t fight your drooping eyelids as you listen to the talk show and the air slowly filling and exiting his lungs.
Your breathing evens out eventually and Simon smiles down at you. You fell asleep cuddled into him, arm slung around his middle, gripping his sweatshirt in one fist with every bit of energy left, silently telling him not to leave.
“Little medic needs to be looked after too.”
82 notes · View notes
pandenewie · 1 year
Text
22 - Family Vacation
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AN: Mr Jeon has slowly morphed into Wonwoo from Seventeen so yeah
It’s 6am when Y/n finds themself knocking on an unfamiliar apartment door. God, they just pray that they got the right number. After minutes of waiting and a number of knocking attempts, each louder than the last, the door finally swings open.
“Who the hell is awake at this time of -”
“Are you Jay Park?”
The man looks visibly confused at Y/n’s interruption. “Uh… depends who’s asking?” He asks, clearly skeptical of a random high schooler standing at his doorstep at 6 in the morning. 
“I’m Y/n.” They introduce themself, watching the man’s reaction as the cogs begin turning in his brain. “Wait, Jungwon’s Y/n?” He asks with wide eyes. With the new information, he opens his door further, inviting Y/n into his apartment.
“Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t exactly expecting guests. And then this asshole decided to come over and get drunk at like, 2 this morning.” Jay says, gesturing to the guy passed out on his couch. Y/n thinks they can recognise him as one of Jungwon’s other friends, but they can’t put a name to face this early in the morning.
“Jake, wake up.” Jay mumbles, picking up a pillow and throwing it at the sleeping figure. Jake lets out a groan, flipping off his friend before rubbing his hands over his face. “What time is it?” He asks with a groggy voice. “Too damn early, that’s for sure.” Jay mumbles, pushing Jake’s legs to make room on the couch. “Make yourself at home, Y/n.” He continues, gesturing to the empty armchair placed horizontally from the couch.
As soon as Y/n is seated, the grilling from Jay begins. “Why are you here? Especially at 6 in the morning? And how did you find my apartment?” “Context clues from talking to Jungwon.” Y/n shrugs, only seeming to confuse him more. “That’s some stalker shit.” Jake mumbles, earning a smack on the leg from Jay. “Ow, bro, be gentle! I’m in a fragile state right now!” Jake whines, causing Jay to roll his eyes.
“As for why I’m here, it’s kind of a long story…” Y/n trails off, causing Jay to look at them with a blank expression. “It’s 6 in the morning, I quite literally have nothing else to do.” Sighing, Y/n thinks for a moment about the best way to sum it up. “Basically, I got suspended which means I’m not allowed to go on the senior trip that Jungwon planned - which is today. He was pretty bummed about it all so I was thinking, is there a way I can get in? Then I saw that the campsite still had cabins available so I booked one and I thought I could go and surprise him. And I need a ride so I’m asking you.”
If Jay could get any more confused than he already is, it is certainly evident on his face. It’s silent for a few moments and it finally sets into Y/n’s brain just how insane this is. Finally, after an awkward staring contest, that lasted much too long for anyone’s liking, Jake breaks out into fits of giggles.
“Oh my god!” He gasps, clutching his chest as he falls into Jay’s shoulder. “This is like a fucking movie!” Jay quickly shushes his friend, scolding him for laughing and being so loud. When this doesn’t work (partially due to Jake’s half-drunk state, partially due to him not taking Jay seriously) Jay results in pressing his palm against Jake’s mouth, muffling his giggles.
“Okay so… that’s kind of insane. In like… a cute way?” Jay mumbles, still trying to rack his brain around everything. “Do I have to… do anything?” He continues. “Not really? Just drive there, hang out in the cabin and then drive me back?” Y/n asks, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes in hopes that if all else fails, that will make him agree.
Jay likes to pride himself on being a very rational person. He likes to think things through and make sensible decisions that will benefit both him and others. Going on an impromptu 2 day holiday with a stranger so they can sneak into their school camp is anything but rational. It’s risky, reckless, and by the sounds of it, not even fully planned out to begin with.
“Okay… but you’re coming with us.” He agrees, slapping Jake, who had fallen back asleep, on the thigh - waking him up once more. If he’s going to do something this insane, he at least needs his much more recklessly inclined friend to fall back on.
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“What’s with the low face?”
A sudden voice snaps Jungwon out of his thoughts. He pulls his attention away from the bus window and turns around to find Wonyoung sitting in the seat next to him. “What do you mean?” He asks, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mean this in the nicest way possible… you look like a kicked puppy.” She says.
“I thought you were pretending you were in a sad music video at first… but then I saw you weren’t listening to music.” Ricky says from the seat behind them, leaning over to ruffle Jungwon’s hair. “Cheer up buddy! You can still have fun on the trip without Y/n here.”
Ricky’s words seem to cause realisation on Wonyoung’s face. “But Hiyyih mentioned something about Y/n coming?” She asks, confused, causing Jungwon to sigh. “I don’t know… they said something about being here no matter what. I have no idea what they’re doing.” Jungwon mumbles. He can’t tell which emotion is more difficult at the moment, the disappointment of Y/n not being on the trip or the anxiety about whatever they have planned…
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The sudden blasting of the car horn causes Y/n to jump slightly from their position in the passenger seat. Jay mumbles an apology as he rolls down his window, yelling at Jake to “hurry up” and “just grab shit”
A few moments later, Jake walks out of the convenience store, hood up, dark sunglasses perched on his nose, and arms full of an assortment of snacks. He slides into the backseat of Jay’s car, emptying his treasures onto the floor and laying down. 
“I think the worker thought I was high.” Jake mumbles, pulling his hoodie down to hide his face even further. “You sure you aren’t?” Jay jokes, reaching back for the bag of lollipops that Jake had brought. Slipping one into his mouth, he motions for Jake to sit up which earns a groan from the younger boy. “Dude, I’m still tipsy.” Jake whines, kicking his feet like a child. “At least put your seatbelt on! I do not need anyone dying on this trip.” Jay rolls his eyes before finally starting the car.
Y/n starts to think that maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea…
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“We haven’t even been here for half an hour!” Jungwon whines, as Wonyoung and Ricky grab an arm each and drag him out of the cabin. “Come on, Jungwon! We’re versing Hiyyih and Hikaru in badminton and we need a ref.” Wonyoung says, causing Jungwon’s eyebrows to furrow. “It’s a casual game. What do you need a few for?” He asks. “To stop Hiyyih from cheating. She looks sweet but that girl is a menace.” Wonyoung sighs.
Jungwon attempts to complain further but is shushed by his friends, claiming that he needs to be more sociable. Jungwon pulls his arms from their grip, attempting to run back to the safety of his cabin. This works to no avail, as Ricky quickly catches up and throws Jungwon over his shoulder. “People would think you’re being kidnapped.” Ricky jokes, as the three walk to the far end of the campsite, where the badminton court is.
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“So… you just happened to be going on a… family vacation… at the same time and same location as the senior trip?” Mr Jeon asks, eyeing Y/n skeptically. Running into one of the teachers was a given. Thankfully, Y/n has perfected the art of lying.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Mr Jeon, they surprised me with the trip last minute. I didn’t even know where we were going.” Y/n shrugs. Mr Jeon doesn’t seem all that convinced, as he looks back to the car, which Jay and Jake are currently getting the bags out of. “And those two are…?” He asks, watching the two argue over who’s holding what. “Jake’s my cousin. He's just come from Australia and Jay’s… his boyfriend.” Y/n spills, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Right… well, I suppose I should speak with them and go over some ground rules.” Mr Jeon sighs, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Sure thing.” Y/n smiles brightly, skipping over towards their “cousin” and his “boyfriend”.
“Mr Jeon’s coming to talk to you two. Jake, you’re my cousin who just flew in from Australia. Jay, you’re his boyfriend.” Y/n speaks quickly, causing the two to look at them with wide eyes. “Why are we dating?” Jay asks, slightly annoyed. “It was the first thing I thought of. Just act natural.” Y/n replies. Jay rolls his eyes in response before shoving a water bottle against Jake’s chest, mumbling for him to “sober up” as Mr Jeon approaches the trio.
“Hi, Jay and Jake is it? I’m Jeon Wonwoo, one of Y/n’s teachers.” He introduces himself cheerfully, holding his hand out for them to shake. His eyes widen slightly when they land on Jay, and his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion. “Jongseong?” He adds, causing Jay to laugh sheepishly. Jay immediately matches Mr Jeon’s smile, shaking his hand firmly. “Nice to see you again, sir.” He says. “You two know each other?” Y/n asks, confused. “I taught Jongseong a few years ago… you go by Jay now?” Mr Jeon asks, causing Jay to nod. “Yeah, Jongseong feels like I’m being scolded.” He jokes, causing Mr Jeon to laugh. “Well, I’m certainly in no position to do that anymore.” He comments, holding his hand out to Jake now. Jay nudges Jake to accept it, and he gives Mr Jeon a short, silent handshake. Jay’s laugh breaks the awkward silence. “Sorry about my… boyfriend… he’s still a bit jet lagged.” Jay says, hoping the disgust isn’t evident in his voice as he mumbles the word boyfriend.
“Yes, Y/n mentioned you’ve come from Australia. Now, I’m certainly not trying to cause any trouble for you, especially since you’ve come all this way to spend time with Y/n. But are you aware of their current school situation?” Mr Jeon asks, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jake. “Yes! We couldn’t be prouder!” Jake exclaims, causing Jay to roll his eyes. “He’s talking about the suspension, babe.” Jay mumbles, the term of endearment being a secret message of “get your shit together”. “Oh yes, that we’re very disappointed with.” Jake attempts to collect himself.
“Right. Well, as much as we wish Y/n could have joined us on this trip, the suspension, unfortunately, made that impossible. I just want to make it clear that despite being in the same campsite, Y/n will still not be joining us for any of the school-related activities with the other students.” Mr Jeon points out. “Yes, of course. We’re certainly not here for that.” Jake nods. Y/n can’t help but roll their eyes. Way to sell it, Jake.
“That’s not to say that Y/n has to completely avoid the other students. There are scheduled free time slots where students are free to roam the camp and do whatever they please. If Y/n wishes to hang out with their friends during this time, they are welcome to.” Mr Jeon says. “Thank you for being so accommodating. We will try our best to get out of your hair.” Jay says. “That’s not a problem. Well, I should let you three get back to your vacation. I presume I will see you all around.” Mr Jeon bids goodbye before going off to find the students.
“God, why did it have to be Mr Jeon? He was the only teacher I actually cared about in high school.” Jay groans, locking the car as the three start walking towards their cabin. “He probably let us off easy because he knows you.” Y/n states. “But now he thinks I’m dating Jake of all people.” Jay complains, causing Jake to let out an offended scoff. “What’s wrong with dating me?” He asks. “You’re half drunk at 10 am, wearing socks and sandals and all you’ve eaten today is dried ramen and gummy bears.” Jay deadpans. “Sounds like a catch to me.” Jake shrugs, pushing his friend out of the way to get into the cabin.
As soon as the three are inside the cabin, Jake immediately flops down on one of the beds. “So what’s the plan on finding Jungwon?” He asks. Y/n shrugs in response, pulling out their phone to check their messages once again. “My friend said she’d text me updates on what they’re doing. But that was almost an hour ago.” They mumble, quickly typing out another message.
“Well, you have fun with that. I’m going to take a nap.” Jay says, pushing Jake over so there’s room on the bed for him to lie down. “Dude, what? I thought we were gonna hang out?” Jake asks. “We passed a games room on the way. They have a ping pong table and everything.” He adds, reaching over for the brochure on the bedside table, which lists the number of activities the campsite offers. “Leaving this cabin means running into Mr Jeon again. And I do not want to keep pretending we’re dating.” Jay rolls his eyes. “Well boyfriend, I don’t care. I’m going to drag you around this whole damn park and you’re going to love every second of it.” Jake huffs.
“Hiyyih just texted me, she said their first activity starts in half an hour so they’re just playing badminton for now. You two have fun with… whatever this is.” Y/n says, getting up to leave the cabin. “Text me when you’re coming back. I don’t want you getting lost in the woods.” Jay mumbles. Y/n sends him a simple thumbs up before going to find the others.
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“Why the fuck is the badminton court so far away?” Y/n asks loudly, as they finally spot their friends in the near distance. The sudden voice causes all their heads to turn in the direction of the noise. “Y/nnie! You made it!” Hikaru screams, running to jump into Y/n’s arms. “Why are you acting like I’ve been gone for a year?” Y/n asks, laughing slightly as they set Hikaru down on the grass. “You basically have. Come on, Jungwon’s going to freak.” Hikaru exclaims, grabbing Y/n’s hand and dragging them towards the rest of the group.
“The main character has arrived.” Wonyoung jokes as Y/n walks towards the group. “Thank you, thank you.” Y/n says sarcastically, bowing as if their friends were an audience. They soon find themself face to face with Jungwon, and can’t help the proud smile that spreads across their face as they take in his shocked expression.
“How are you… what?” Jungwon asks, his brain faltering as he tries to get his mind around the situation. “Surprise.” Y/n says happily, wasting no time in wrapping their arms around Jungwon’s middle. Despite still being in shock, he doesn’t hesitate to return the affection, wrapping his arms securely around Y/n. “I’m so confused.” He laughs, nuzzling his head into Y/n’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything later.” Y/n says, patting his hair affectionately. Jungwon suddenly pulls away from Y/n’s hold, worry showing all over his face.
“Wait, but the teachers don’t know you’re here?” 
“It’s fine, Jungwon.” 
“No, but they can’t know. You’re supposed to be suspended.” 
“It’s fine.”
“What about your parents? Oh my god, do they think you’re kidnapped?”
“Jungwon!”
Y/n grips his face in their hands, pulling him down slightly so they are at eye level. The sudden contact shuts him up, as he looks at Y/n, eyes wide with concern. “Everything is fine, babe. My parents, the teachers, everyone knows. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Y/n mumbles, squishing Jungwon’s cheeks slightly. He lets out a sigh at the reassurance, letting out a muffled “okay” due to Y/n’s hands squishing his cheeks. Y/n gently nuzzles their noses together before pressing a quick peck against his lips, cautious of the fact that their friends are still there and watching.
They soon release Jungwon from their hold, resorting to holding his hand instead. “Now that that’s settled, it looks like I’ve interrupted a very important badminton match?” Y/n asks. “Oh my god, Y/n, Ricky is literally cheating! He keeps hitting it way over our heads.” Hikaru whines. “If anyone’s cheating, it’s you. I don’t think jumping on Hiyyih’s back is in the rules.” Ricky argues back. “Sounds like we need a rematch…” Y/n hints. “Yes! Y/n and Jungwon can ref and this time, no cheating.” Wonyoung states as they get back into position to play again.
As the game starts, Y/n brings their head to rest on Jungwon’s shoulder. He squeezes their hand softly at the contact, bending down to gently kiss their forehead. “I’m really happy you came.” Jungwon whispers, nuzzling the top of their head with his nose before turning his attention back to the game. Y/n has to bite back their smile as their heart flutters slightly at the action. That’s new.
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penny00dreadful · 5 months
Text
Spies AU - Part 15
Part 1 Part 16 AO3
4th December 2015
Everything was just kind of… floating.
All of his sensations and thoughts and feelings, the building surrounding him as he walked through the empty lobby, every footstep echoing off the walls all kind of drifted in front of him like clouds. 
He couldn’t really grasp them.
Eddie wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to drive here safely.
He was feeling numb all over.
His hands, his lips, his brain, his heart, his stomach were all outside of his body, like they knew if he thought about things too hard he’d just end up curling into a ball and screaming.
He would love to do that honestly, there was just so much, but he couldn’t.
He didn’t have time.
He had a job to do.
Eddie refused to think about what had just happened. 
He couldn’t.
It would be too much of a distraction. There was some small, paranoid part of him that thought if he did think about it, he would know. 
Somehow.
Like he had a window into Eddie’s mind, he would be able to see.
He’d know.
And Eddie couldn’t let that happen.
Creel had him puppeteered on strings for so long, he couldn’t even comprehend what it might be like to finally have them cut.
It was better to keep it locked away, or to keep it drifting through his brain without letting it latch on.
Just keep moving forward.
One step in front of the other.
The elevator dinged and he arrived on the analysts floor.
It was empty and echoing, save for the two voices and the sound of a struggle taking place deep into the half cubicles lined up methodically in their rows.
He hadn't exactly expected any different.
Two women were struggling with each other at a nondescript desk, one he recognised and another he'd never seen before.
The other one must be Robin, then.
Her hair was awry, like it had been tugged and pulled and Eddie caught sight of a few strands littering the floor. There was a cut over her cheek and a blazing, angry fire in her eyes. 
She had her hands tied behind her back and though her opponent was armed with a gun, she continued to kick and bite and throw herself around, fighting to get away.
The two screens on her desk were still on, Steve’s flat vitals constantly moving in a line from left to right along with the high pitched ringing coming from her headset, hanging by the wire off the desk.
“Angie.” Eddie greeted when he was within earshot.
Angie looked over at him, a mix of disdain and frustration on her face as she struggled to keep Robin subdued. Her nose was bloody, probably broken. There was a deep gouge over her eye, like Robin had attempted to claw it out and the side of her face was starting to swell, blood dribbling from her mouth.
There was a stray tooth on the floor and Eddie couldn’t help the curl of satisfaction through his gut as his eyes flashed back to her.
He never fucking liked her anyway.
He liked her even less realising she’d been placed here for who knows how long. 
So she had been the mole.
There was probably a reason he hadn’t been informed of that. Creel always played things incredibly close to the chest. Only he knew of every chess piece he had on the board. 
“It's Angela-” Angie snapped but she was cut off by an enraged screech.
“You!”
A wild flurry of legs came swinging at him out of nowhere. Robin broke out of Angela's hold and flew at him.
“You fucking piece of shit!” She screamed, moving with a speed he really hadn’t expected from her, catching him off guard and kicking him directly in the solar plexus. 
He stumbled back a step, completely winded from the hit, but Robin didn’t let up for a second.
“How could you?!” She lashed out at his knee and if he hadn’t stepped out of the way, she definitely would have dislocated it. “How fucking could you?!” She swung her leg back in a large arc and then swung it forward again, clearly aiming for his balls. “You fucking betrayed him! Traitor!”
Eddie was able to dodge it easily enough, he saw it coming and when he batted Robin’s leg out of the way, it was enough to send her slightly off balance.
But she recovered quickly, rearing back and spitting directly in his face.
Something about that seemed to have woken Angela up, about fucking time, and she grabbed Robin by the wrists, yanking her back. 
“I’ll fucking kill you.” Robin hissed at him, vicious anger cutting through her words.
Eddie believed her. 
He believed that if she ever got her hands on him, she would try her very best to end his life. There was so much fury in such a tiny, tiny woman.
And he couldn’t blame her for it.
“I swear to everything on this earth,” she continued, still pulling, stretching against Angela’s grip to get right up in his face, “if it’s the last thing I ever fucking do, I’ll kill you for what you’ve done.”
Eddie cooly wiped her spit from his cheek with his sleeve, shoving everything in his stomach, his heart down, keeping it away from his face. His swirling guilt was starting to make him feel sick.
With another great wrench of her upper body, she got out of Angela’s hold again and Eddie had had enough, he couldn’t take any more of it or he would break.
He sympathised with her, he really did, but he was done with being a punching bag.
When she kicked her leg out at him again, he shoved against it, nearly toppling her over. 
Before she could right herself, he wrapped his own arms around her from behind, holding her tight against him.
She threw her head back with a ferocious scream, nearly connecting with his nose and kicked her heels back violently against his shins.
“Stop your fucking whining.” He snapped, with more passion, more anger than he really felt right then, but needs must. “You sound like a muppet trying to give birth.”
It had the exact effect he hoped it would.
Her spitting anger, her vitriol and violence faltered, for just half a second, half a second where Eddie’s heart stood still, waiting to see if she knew what was good for her, if she was as smart as he’d been told.
With another strangled scream, that sounded a little like a cry of relief, she started trying to hit him again, but nothing connected, nothing landed and he could feel the fight draining from her.
Okay, that was fine, he could work with that, he just needed her to play along.
“Worn yourself out with your little tantrum, have you?”
She turned to glare at him with just as much anger behind it as there had been before, so that much hadn’t changed.
It probably wouldn’t, not for a while.
He got it.
He understood.
“Just fucking knock her out, already.” Angela rolled her eyes at him, standing with a hip cocked, tonguing at her gum where her tooth had once been and her gun held loosely by her side.
Amateur. 
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Angie.” He sneered back. 
He wished, not for the first time, he could just kill her and be done with it.
“Well go on,” Angela waved her gun, her wrist loose, in the direction of the elevator, the direction he’d come. “Go do your job then.”
It would be so easy, he could make it very quick. 
He would be able to knock the gun out of her hand and have her neck broken before she could blink again, but he also couldn’t.
“Fuck you.” He spat, but still turned with Robin in his arms, dragging her through the office and back to the elevator, leaving Angela to whatever fate met her when he left this room.
Robin was still trying to catch her breath, still glaring at him as he set her back on her feet and pushed the button for the ground floor.
Just before the doors slid fully closed, there was a sound, so quiet it was barely audible, that came muffled from the office.
But Eddie had been trained, he’d recognise a sound like that anywhere.
The thud of a body hitting the floor.
Good riddance.
Dead or unconscious, it didn’t matter to him. She wasn’t his fucking problem anymore. 
He leaned back against the wall as they descended, arms crossed over his chest as he and Robin stared at each other.
Or he stared, Robin glared.
He could practically see the gears clicking in her brain. She tilted her head to the side, just barely. 
It was a question in and of itself.
Eddie shook his head, almost imperceptibly, trying to keep the movement as hidden as possible.
Don’t talk about it, don’t ask.
Robin huffed in irritation and he wasn’t sure if it was real or put on. She kicked back against the wall in frustration. 
So probably real, then.
“Charming.” He said, raising his eyebrows.
He was met with a scowl.
“Fuck you. You don’t get to say shit to me.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. I’m not gonna take shit from the guy who’s fucking kidnapping me and murdered my best friend.” She snapped, her voice breaking on the last two words.
Eddie swallowed back the emotions in his throat, unable to stop his eyes dipping down to the elevator floor.
“That’s what I thought, you prick.”
Eddie didn’t answer back and didn’t look up, tightening his arms around himself, glancing away towards the doors.
They rode down in silence for another few seconds before Robin broke it again.
“And you’re short.”
Eddie had to whip his head up at that, an incredulous look on his face.
“I am not short!”
Robin shrugged, all put on nonchalance. 
“Shorter than I thought you’d be.”
Okay, he supposed there were worse things she could say about him, considering the circumstances.
He couldn’t really find it in himself to care too much about the insults. He’d probably be dead by the end of the day if this all didn’t work out anyway.
Eddie stepped forward, grabbing her just above the elbow before the doors opened in case she tried to bolt and kept a firm grip on her through the lobby.
He could feel the heat of her hate-stare burning into the side of his head the whole way out to the car, radiating through to the back of his head.
Just before they got to his car, he slid his hand down her arm, working his finger into the bindings at her wrists.
Not enough to release her, not enough to let her escape, but enough to allow the blood to start flowing again.
Her glare didn’t let up and she didn’t indicate that she knew anything was different as he shoved her into the back seat of his car.
He didn’t push her that hard, but she still flew in, still landed with a thump, still made it look like he’d been forceful which he was thankful for. 
He had no idea how many eyes and ears were on him right now. 
The car ride was silent. 
Robin might be playing along, but her hate filled glare was real enough. He didn’t blame her for it. She had no confirmation that he wasn’t just going to throw her, helpless, into the lion's den. 
She had no confirmation that he wasn’t some evil piece of shit. 
All she had to go off of was whatever Steve had told her about him, so… 
He supposed it all came down to how much she trusted the word of her best friend.
Even though the things Eddie had done in the last few hours had not helped with whatever impression of trustworthiness Steve might have given her.
She was still enraged at him. 
He was pretty sure she’d have gouged his eyes out by now as well, if she could have. 
Again, he couldn’t have blamed her for it.
He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to overhear what she heard. To see the vitals stop and flatline, to be attacked in her own office, to know that a gun had been shot.
It must have been horrible.
Henry Creel’s mansion loomed in front of them, sticking out in all of its beige bricked glory. The long driveway had been cleared of snow, even as it was still falling, and had been salted.
Eddie would have usually used the back entrance, driven straight down to the garage and entered through the servants quarters, but he knew Creel wouldn’t have wanted that right now.
He would want Robin to have the full Creel experience and that meant experiencing his wealth as well. 
Eddie hated being in the fucking Creel mansion. 
The wealth here made his skin crawl. It made him want to break things and wipe mud all over the expensive paintings and tapestries. 
He felt like he was being watched constantly in here.
More so than he usually did. 
Like every single painting, every single statue, every single doorway had eyes that followed him no matter where he went. 
Which only made him want to vandalise more shit. 
If Creel didn’t know how much Eddie fucking hated him, he’d have shown him over and over and over again by wrecking his shit every chance he got.
If it wouldn’t have gotten him dropped into The Pit again. 
No, he never ever wanted to go back there. He’d had enough of it. 
The last time he’d been down there he’d only narrowly managed to escape, running off to Steve’s at the first opportunity presented to him.
He wouldn’t be able to make the same escape again, regardless of who he was.
The guards that were dotted around the mansion liked to believe they were the most intimidating thing in the building.
But the way they refused to look him in the eye, told him at least that they had the vaguest idea of Eddie’s position.
And if it wasn’t himself they were scared of, it was Creel.
Even the tiniest noise coming from Creel’s office, where he spent most of his time, had the guards on his floor flinching away, terrified of incurring any kind of wrath or getting stuck in The Pit themselves.
Eddie kept Robin close to his side as he walked her through the opulent hallway and up the stairs.
The various guards along the way eyed the two of them. Some were curious about who this new captive was and why she was being brought to him and not just executed, as was Eddie’s job, but some were giving her eyes like she was a piece of meat for them to play with and it made Eddie’s stomach turn. 
Eddie had his eyes and ears peeled and he was probably giving a little too much away, if Creel was watching him right now, he was going to be fucked because as Robin curled herself in towards him subconsciously the deeper into the house they got.
He kept an arm around Robin’s shoulder and tried not to let everything that was happening in that moment get to him.
Robin was starting to panic. 
She wasn’t pretending any more, she wasn’t putting on a face of fear to keep up the facade, she was actually fucking scared.
It must be terrifying to be marched towards the enemy boss’s office, not knowing what was to come. 
That was probably the only reason she didn’t react to the soft thump behind her, the guard who’d been looking a little too hungrily as they passed was the only one in this hallway.
She might not have heard it, but Eddie did.
The quietest grunt of pain from a second impact, just as they turned the corner, guards being thinned out behind them.
He hated all of these people, hated being here, hated everything that was happening right now, he wanted to peel his fucking skin off, but he kept that all locked away inside.
So fuck these guys. Let whatever happened to them happen.
Creel was a fucking bloodhound, a cruel and malicious one. 
Eddie wanted him to believe he’d finally broken him, finally reduced him down to a dead eyed, unfeeling and compliant person, finally, after all this time of trying.
When he’d been sent out for Steve yesterday… that had been how he’d felt.
He hadn’t known how the fuck he was supposed to get out of it. Didn’t see a way forward. Knew that the choice was between Steve and his people back home and how was he ever supposed to make a choice like that, in the end?
But he had, hadn’t he?
He’d broken into Steve’s apartment with a loaded gun and waited for him to get home, trying to swallow down every emotion in his throat as he looked around and remembered how happy he had been the last time he was here.
In the end the choice wasn’t really a choice.
Eddie had learned that, after.
Found out there was some way forward that didn’t break him completely.
So he grabbed it with both hands.
Robin was shaking next to him as he turned them into Creel’s office, opening the door and ushering her in.
He’d have loved to offer her more comfort, let her know he’d do whatever he could to keep her safe, but he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
Henry Creel was sitting behind his desk, blonde hair perfectly waving over his forehead, in an expensive grey wool suit. He looked up from his computer when Eddie closed the door behind them, a wide smile splitting over his face that could be mistaken for warm if Eddie didn’t know the man in front of him was incapable of warmth.
“Kas! Wonderful to see you again!” Creel exclaimed, standing and making his way around his desk to stand in front of them. “And this must be the elusive Birdie. Or Robin, I suppose. Lovely to meet you.”
He pushed Eddie back a step with the lightest press of his fingers, like he was a cat standing in his way and Eddie went easily. 
Creel circled Robin like a predator, taking in everything about her while she stood with her head held high, despite the tremble in her shoulders.
“Oh, yes.” Creel breathed, coming back around to stand in front of her, nodding to himself. “She’ll do nicely.”
“She’ll do nicely for what, exactly?” Robin snapped, glaring up at where he towered over her.
Creel somehow grinned even wider, showing off all his teeth. 
He loved people with fire in them. Loved quenching it. Sometimes slowly, sometimes lightning fast.
“You and I,” Creel tapped a finger on his chin, “are going to have a great deal of fun together, my dear.”
“Sorry.” Robin sneered. “You’re not my type.”
Creel frowned, confused, though it was more than likely put on. “Not your type-?” He stepped back with the realisation of what she meant, almost looking offended. “Oh no. I would be doing nothing so crass as that, Robin. I have no interest in assault of that kind, rest assured.”
“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m real fuckin’ assured.”
He smiled again, glancing back to Eddie and then back down to her. 
“You’ve got a wonderful spirit in you.”
I can’t wait to break it, went unsaid but they all heard it.
“Has my dear Kas informed you of The Pit?”
Robin shrugged. “Can’t say that he has.”
“Oh, Kas.” Creel tutted like a disappointed owner. “Are you losing your touch?”
Eddie grit his teeth, not even managing to answer before his boss was already moving on. There were shadows moving across the snow outside. Eddie could see them out of the corner of his eye through the large window Creel was turned away from, looking out over his estate, the exits from his house visible, situated right behind his desk.
Eddie kept his eyes firmly ahead, not letting his gaze be drawn to the movement. 
“The Pit is what you would call my personal playground. I’m a curious man by nature and I like to…” Creel tilted his head from side to side, “figure things out. Some people have knitting as a hobby, I have The Pit.”
“Great,” Robin nodded sarcastically. “Well, why don’t you throw Kas down there and I’ll wait up here.”
“Oh, Kas is plenty familiar with The Pit, aren’t you, my boy?” Creel smiled at him wide. “On both sides, isn’t that right?”
Eddie tried not to let any shift in his expression show. It made his blood run cold to think of the things he’d done. The things Creel had directed him to do. He never wanted to, never enjoyed it the way his boss had and they both knew it. 
Whenever Eddie was due to be taught a lesson, it would be a toss up as to whether he’d be fucking up some poor unlucky soul or he’d be the one getting fucked up.
It just depended on what mood Creel was in that day.
Creel’s grin turned sharp, like he could hear Eddie’s inner thoughts anyway.
“I will say, I thought I might have to send him down there again. When I gave him his most recent mission, he pitched such a fit. But he did such a good job today, didn’t you?” Creel’s eyes pierced through him. “With your sweetheart.”
Creel hissed the word out and Eddie couldn’t stop the flinch on his face, clenching his jaw tight and balling his hands into fists while Creel watched him, hungry and greedy and delighted.
With a slow drag of his eyes, Creel looked back down at Robin.
“Are you a curious person, little bird?”
“I doubt I’m the kind of curious you’re looking for.”
Creel shrugged. “That’s okay. I think I’m curious enough for the both of us. Tell me, Robin, if I were to break your legs and your arms, just by twisting them around,” he mimed doing it, like he was tightening a screw, “and then I just… kept twisting,” he was watching her face, drinking in the badly concealed horror and fear there, “what do you think would happen?”
“I…” she swallowed. “I don't know.”
“Neither do I.” He smiled. “But I can't wait to find out.”
Something both inside and outside the room shifted. 
Robin looked like she was rearing up to headbutt Creel as hard as she could or run away while Creel looked like he was eager for her to try. 
Outside the office something slid down the wall. They could hear the small thump through the closed door as whatever it was hit the ground.
Eddie’s heart completely stopped for a moment, wondering if everything just got fucked up. 
He expected to turn back and find Creel glaring at him, suspicious and endlessly paranoid as he was, or gesturing for him to check what it was but instead he was staring out of the window, looking over the back of his expansive estate.
From this vantage point, high up, he could see almost everything.
It was why he chose this room for his office, so he could see everything.
Creel’s garage door was shuttering to a close, there were multiple tracks through the snow from people running back and forth, the slightest glint of a green laser sight glancing off the snow against the window, following Creel as he shifted.
Everything went to shit from one second to the next.
Eddie had barely managed to close his fingers around his gun before Creel had Robin around the throat, spinning the two of them so she was held tight between him and the window like a shield.
“Don’t you move a fucking inch.” He growled back at Eddie.
Robin struggled against his grip but stopped with an inhale, something pressed into her back.
Once the two of them had shuffled out of range of the window, he turned back to Eddie, who was still frozen in place, fingertips grazing his gun, not daring to move lest the glint of sharp silver in Creel’s hand buried itself in Robin’s back.
Eddie didn’t bother to hide his contempt, his fucking hatred for his boss anymore, the jig was up, but Creel didn’t flinch, just met his gaze with disgust and indignation.
“You think you can betray me, you little shit? You think you can take me down? Well, you just wait, Kas. I’ll make your whole family suffer for this and I’ll make sure it’s fucking slow.”
“My family isn’t under your thumb anymore. Your agents have been eliminated.” Eddie hissed back, fingers flexing, just waiting for an opportunity, an opening. “You don’t have anything over me.”
Under their words Eddie could hear the sounds of fights and gunfire going off around the estate. 
Apparently the message that everything had gone to shit and it was the time to attack and not just sneakily infiltrate had been communicated.
From the look on Creel’s face, he could hear it as well.
“It’s over, Creel.” Eddie could feel the hatred, the anger, the fucking rage swirling around him. “I gave the Agency everything. All your tricks, all your escape plans, your backup plans, your panic buttons… every single contingency plan you have in place, they’ve disabled them all. It’s over.”
Creel scoffed. “You really sold me out like a little bitch because I sent you to kill some piece of ass?”
The office door was kicked open and a figure burst through, bloody bandage over his ear where his communicator had once sat, his eyes hard and a gun cocked and levelled at Creel’s head.
“You’re damn right he did.” Steve said.
Robin had opened her mouth to say something, staring wide eyed at Steve, to curse him out, maybe to scream but no sound came out, just a vague breathy sound of shock.
Creel turned his cold but somehow alive eyes back to Eddie. “You gave them all my tricks, did you?”
Robin’s face twisted with a sharp inhale of pain as Creel’s grin split his face.
“Let’s put that to the test.”
With a great shove he pushed Robin forward, directly into Steve who immediately opened his arms wide to catch her.
Creel darted to the side, throwing himself into one of his bookcases, the facade immediately dropping as it was revealed to be a doorway that he disappeared behind, his footsteps getting quieter the further down the concealed staircase he went.
Eddie was so consumed with rage, immediately taking off after him, not stopping as Steve called after him to “wait!”
He knew he’d be leaving Steve torn. Go after him or help Robin and Eddie was pretty confident in which one Steve would choose.
He could take care of himself and Robin was injured so the answer was obvious.
He didn’t doubt that Steve would come after him eventually but hopefully by then Eddie would have ripped Creels throat out with his fucking teeth.
He had to fucking end him, he had to. He didn’t go through all this shit just to have him escape now.
Eddie crash landed so hard into the dark and narrow hallway at the bottom of the stairs, his knees buckled, catching himself against the wall but he was able to stay on his feet.
“Creel!” He screamed after him, so fucking riled up it practically burst out of his throat.
Creel had actually stopped at the end of the hallway, bent over and breathing heavily. 
Clearly his fucking yoga or whatever the fuck hadn’t prepared him to run for his fucking life.
As Eddie broke back into a sprint, content to body tackle the guy and maybe smash his fucking head to bits on the flagstones, Creel whipped around, a small cellular like device in his hands.
“You gave them everything, did you Kas?” Creel panted, standing up straight and smoothing his hair back. “Where I keep all my files? All my incriminating evidence? Everything that could put me away for a long time?”
Eddie came to a stop, flicking his eyes in between Creel’s face and the device. 
He didn’t answer.
Creel took in his silence with a slowly spreading smile.
“Do you think they’ve gotten to it yet? There’s a lot of security in that room. It’s pretty hard to break into. You should know. You’ve tried before. How many Agents do you think are currently in there?” Creel tilted his head. “A minimum of five by my estimation. To go through everything though? Probably closer to ten. Can you deal with ten more bodies on your conscience?”
Creel moved his thumb. Pressed a button. The next second the underground hallway they were in gave a violent shake, the very ground underneath shifting as the sound and shockwaves of an explosion rocked through them, nearly sending Eddie off balance.
Dust and chunks of stone and concrete rained down on top of him, getting into his hair, his lungs, his eyes.
Coughing and waving his hand in front of his face to try and disperse the cloud choking him, he was met with an empty hallway.
Creel had run off again in the commotion. 
With a growl he didn’t even recognise coming from his own body, Eddie took off after him, thankful that the tunnel they were in seemed to be holding, it wasn’t crumbling down around them.
Yet.
There was light coming through a doorway at the end of the hallway but it was difficult to tell what was beyond it, black smoke was starting to slowly filter through the air.
It was only as Eddie threw himself through the door did he realise he was in the underground garage he had led Steve through when they left the Gala, the door he had just come through, concealed, almost invisible in the wall. 
Creel wanted a car, a vehicle of some kind, he wanted to escape, to tear out of the building and into the wind.
But luckily for Eddie, luckily for them all, the Agents were ahead of them.
Though the garage was empty of people apart from the two of them, each and every one of Creel’s obscenely expensive vehicles had been rendered useless, their hoods popped open and different engine components strewn around them, their tyres slashed or removed completely. 
Even the Ford Model K that Steve had been so in love with on first sight had been disassembled, albeit more carefully than the rest of them.
Eddie supposed that kind of respect was warranted to a car that predated the Titanic.
Creel was standing in the middle of his garage, glaring up at the giant metal automatic door that refused to budge, staying firmly shut, no matter how hard he jabbed at the button on the wall.
Looked like the Agents had taken care of that as well.
Creel turned to him, something wild, almost manic in his eye, like a cornered animal ready to strike out.
“I’m disappointed in you, Kas.” He exhaled, forcefully loosening his shoulders and standing proud, though Eddie could still see the frantic calculations going on in his head, trying to figure out how to get out, trapped in an underground garage with thick black smoke slowly settling around them like a haze, trapped with an assassin he had beaten and tortured into submission, making him a killing machine against his will. “I gave you everything and this is how you repay me?”
Eddie could feel the white hot anger buzzing through his blood, making his teeth vibrate.
“Gave me everything? You took everything from me! You stole my life out from under me and what? You expect me to fucking thank you for it?”
“I expect you to be grateful for the life I provided for you.”
“The life you tricked me into! ‘Just a few jobs.’ You’d said. Enough to get me out of prison and enough to keep Wayne taken care of but it never fucking stopped and I was too fucking young and naive to understand I’d just walked myself from one prison sentence to another!”
Creel tilted his head at him, staring with wide, wide eyes. “You were such a talent, Kas. Why would I let that go? You were so useful to me.”
“Fuck you.” Eddie spat. “You destroyed my life, I don’t even know who I am anymore!”
“You’re Kas.” Creel said, as if it was simple. “I took you from some low nobody, a vigilante with no power to one of the deadliest men in the world, can’t you see that? Eddie was nobody but you are somebody.”
Eddie wasn’t sure what his fucking angle was. Did he think showering him with his fucked up version of compliments would somehow get him out of this alive?
“I think I preferred being nobody.”
Creel’s lip curled up in disgust. “You’re already a nobody.” He snapped, apparently turning his attitude on a dime, the gleam in his eye only getting more and more crazed. “I am somebody.”
Eddie dragged his gun out from its holster behind him, pointing it directly between Creel’s eyes.
“Not for much longer.”
It was like the wild thing in Creel snapped at that, teeth finally bared, sharp and vicious.
“Don’t you find it strange?” Creel asked, sinking his teeth in, trying to make it hurt. “How I appeared at exactly the right moment? When you needed help for your uncle? For yourself? Isn’t it a coincidence that Wayne needed that life saving treatment at the same time I offered you a way out? A way to make it happen?”
He grinned, wild and frantic, knowing he was dead now, knowing Eddie was going to kill him and wanting to hurt him as much as possible before that happened.
He cocked his head to the side.
“Isn’t that strange? That Wayne got sick when he did?”
Eddie was fucking blinded. He’d never really gotten it when people said their vision went red but Eddie saw fucking red.
One second he was standing across from Creel with his gun pointed at him, the next second the gun had been tossed to the side and he was on top of him.
Eddie had one hand around Creel’s throat, squeezing, while the other kept striking down, hit after hit after hit, punch, punch, punch.
Creel’s face was breaking beneath his fist, slowly splintering into a sharp and puddled mess of shattered bone and lumpy flesh and all the while Creel was laughing.
It was getting harder to breathe.
Sobs were crawling up Eddie’s throat. 
All he could see was Wayne, strung out and weak on his hospital bed before he got well enough to take his dialysis at home, reaching out for him with a shaking hand.
Sitting on his recliner in the trailer, trying to keep his spirits up while he was left exhausted by the treatment.
Wayne sitting him down and telling him, since this happened, he had revised his will ‘just in case, kid’ to make sure that Eddie got everything, that Eddie had whatever he needed once he was gone.
The breath in him that wasn’t being cut off from the lump in his throat was being choked out of him by the dense black smoke surrounding him.
He couldn’t get a full lungful, couldn’t breathe in properly.
It felt wet.
It felt wet on the inside.
Something was stopping him, something was stopping him breathing.
It was only when he physically couldn’t punch anymore, when the strength drained from him, quickly, far quicker than he thought it should, Creel having been silent below him for a while, did he look down and see it. 
Creel’s knife, the one he’d used to stab Robin, was sticking out from between his ribs.
It wasn’t the first time Eddie had been stabbed, but it was definitely the first time he hadn’t noticed.
Shit.
He was going to die. 
It didn’t come as much of a shock as he thought it would.
He always expected to die unexpectedly in this line of work.
But he had thought it would be in the middle of a gunfight or some assassin sent after him, able to creep up on him when he was sleeping, though he slept so little.
He hadn’t had a good night's rest in… well. Not since he last slept in Steve’s bed. 
But Eddie had always thought it would end like this. 
He had even expected it could have ended at Creel’s hand. 
Well, he was right about one thing then.
But at least he took Creel down with him.
At least he avenged Wayne.
At least it wouldn’t have all been for nothing. 
His body was slipping.
His back hit the ground, to the side of Creel. 
He fell into warm wet.
Eddie’s blood was all over the floor.
Maybe that’s why he felt so cold, even though the blazing fire above was starting to creep down through the ceiling, bright orange flames slowly licking their way down from the room Creel had exploded.
It probably wouldn’t take very long for the whole thing to collapse down on top of him.
Maybe that would make it quicker.
There was a chunk of Creel’s brain next to his face.
Gross.
At least he could die knowing his people were safe. 
Robin was safe now too. She must be. Steve wouldn’t have let anything happen to her.
Steve would be safe as well. He would have gotten her out, made sure she was okay.
Eddie just wished he could’ve seen him one last time.
He’d probably be a little fucked up about all of this but he’d move on. He was too pretty and too bitchy and too perfect to be alone for long.
“Baby!”
Eddie opened his eyes.
It took a lot longer than he thought it should, just to get them open. 
He hadn’t even realised he’d closed them.
Steve was crouched above him, looking frantic, panicked. Eddie could tell, even though he had some kind of fabric covering his mouth and nose. 
Well, no wonder. 
There was fucking fire everywhere.
He had a nasty burn over his arm, but he didn’t seem to care, just reached down for him.
“Sweetheart.” Eddie grinned up at him, a little delirious, “What’re you doin’ here?” 
Oh, it was hard to push the words out. They wouldn’t form properly. 
That was frustrating.
“Shoudn’t be here.” He nuzzled his face into Steve’s hand. He didn’t know when it had gotten to his cheek, but it was there now. “S’dangerous.”
“You fucking idiot.” Steve hissed at him, his eyes dripping. “In what fucking world do you think I wouldn’t follow you?”
Eddie hummed a smile out.
“Can’t follow me where I‘m goin’ now. Shouldn’t.” He tried to shrug, but his body wouldn’t move. Steve was doing something above him, he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that his hands were moving and his arms were moving.
“Watch me.” Steve snapped back. “I’ll drag you back by the hair if I have to.”
Eddie tried to stifle a giggle at that, though it never made it out of his mouth anyway. He tried to make himself say “I like it when you pull my hair,” but his mouth refused to cooperate.
Everything was still drifting.
He opened his eyes again, it took an awful lot of effort and he was pretty sure he couldn’t feel much of anything anymore. There wasn’t really pain or heat, just a dull and cold numbness.
But he had to let Steve know.
“I love you.”
Steve was above him, arms around him. The ceiling wasn’t so on fire anymore. There was less smoke.
“Don’t.” Steve shook his head at him. “Don’t give me goodbyes right now. Tell me after.”
“Wanna tell you now. I do. I love you.”
Steve closed his eyes above him, taking a big breath in. When he opened them again, Eddie smiled.
Such a pretty honey-brown.
“I love you too.”
Eddie’s smile grew wider, everything went fluid, all of it swirling around him.
And then it was dark.
Part 1 Part 16 AO3
@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation
31 notes · View notes
lu-sn · 1 year
Note
for random braindump, chay and macau being classmates in canon and recognizing each other post season 1 at some family function
congratulations you've revived my macau & chay besties 4evr agenda. this is not quite what you asked for but it is what fell out of my brain 😅
-
chay is fresh off of baby's first kidnapping, and porsche sits him down in an interrogation room and slides a picture across the steel desk and goes, "okay, this kid. this kid goes to your school. this kid is also the little brother of the guy who kidnapped you. well, kind of. well-"
"hia," chay says, pinching his nose, "i get it. what do i do?"
porsche grabs him by the shoulders. "do not go near him. don't talk to him. don't even LOOK at him. DON'T-"
chay endures this lecture very patiently and then does actually follow porsche's instructions, because the kidnapping completely scared the shit out of him and now he lives with the mafia and his life is legitimately in danger. he's gonna listen to what porsche says, no questions asked.
and then macau, who has literally never spoken to chay before ever (he has no reason to, he's one year younger and he's not studying music) starts popping up everywhere.
"hey," macau says, leaning precariously over the water fountain to stare at chay, who sprays water in his own face as he jumps six feet in the air before immediately sprinting away.
or, chay turns around in the lunch line and macau is standing right behind him, wagging his eyebrows, and chay lets out a small "eep" and then whirls back around and pretends very hard that macau isn't there.
or! chay is walking to his bus stop and macau is standing there looking at his phone, and this is ridiculous. chay has never seen macau take this bus before! so chay throws his hands up in exasperation and books it for the next bus stop, he's not putting up with this bullshit, no sir.
(macau is absolutely doing it on purpose. he's known about chay for months, but is actually on explicit orders from vegas to not bother or spy on chay in any way. he definitely wanted to help, but vegas didn't want macau to be thinking about that kind of stuff at school.
macau is flouting these orders now because vegas has been banished and porsche had something to do with it and he's hoping at first that he can fish information about all of that out of chay. but now he's in it for the trolling 😂)
macau doesn't know about the kidnapping. he doesn't know how personally chay is taking this — until he spots chay under a tree and saunters over to bother him, except. chay looks fucking wrecked. and like he's trying to hide it.
something clicks for macau. he totally gets it. sometimes you have to have a mafia-related breakdown at school, and all you can do is find a quiet place to have it.
(macau doesn't know chay is sad because of kim, but he doesn't need to.)
so when chay spots him, and tenses, and looks ready to bolt — macau halts and holds his hands up in surrender. then he waves, kind of awkwardly. and he leaves.
this very sudden generosity does surprise chay. and it continues to surprise chay when macau continues to wave at him whenever they see each other, but doesn't try to approach him. chay is still suspicious of macau, but chay is also a nice kid, and macau really isn't doing anything objectionable. so chay starts waving back.
this truce goes on for a while. and sure, chay isn't following the letter of the law anymore, but it's not like he's giving away information. he's not putting anyone in danger. and it's kind of comforting to have this shared understanding with this kid he doesn't even know. they're in the same boat. chay might not be able to talk to him, but chay feels a little less alone.
there's a million ways they could start talking after this. maybe macau just decides to take the plunge and plops down in front of chay during lunch and starts rambling about valorant. maybe macau is searching his pockets for change for the vending machine, and chay watches him do this for like five minutes and decides he needs to put macau out of his misery.
or maybe one of them finds the other having a panic attack in the bathroom, and talks them through it. (they're both better at this than they should be.)
or. maybe it's after the coup, and now macau is the one looking horribly withdrawn and jittery, and chay knows macau's brother is in a coma, and chay isn't feeling particularly happy about his own brother or anyone in the goddamn main family right now. so he says fuck it, and goes over to bump shoulders nonchalantly with macau.
maybe it's all of those. doesn't matter. they become friends. they're both lonely, and they're just too similar. too young, too tied to the mafia, too scared for their brothers, too little control over their own lives.
and it's not like they ever actually talk about being in the mafia. both of them know better than to give secrets away. they mostly just talk about gaming and homework and roast each other's tastes in music, and occasionally they allude to not being able to sleep, and sometimes they stutter to a stop to avoid saying something they shouldn't — but they both know to let it go. no need to fill in the gaps with lies, to pretend like everything is normal and okay.
it's nice. they're chill.
later, when porsche tells him they're having "family dinner" tomorrow night, chay doesn't realize that includes the former minor family, and he DEFINITELY doesn't realize macau is going to be there. which means he isn't prepared for macau to spot him at dinner and grin and start walking towards him, BECAUSE MACAU DOESN'T KNOW CHAY IS STILL BANNED FROM TALKING TO HIM.
chay is frantically gesturing at macau from behind porsche, making shh-ing motions and throat-slitting motions and shaking his head threateningly. and macau stops, puzzled, narrows his eyes — sly grin flickering across his face for a split second — points directly and dramatically at chay and goes "what are YOU doing here???"
chay facepalms.
macau puts a hand over his mouth and gasps. "have you been in the mafia this whole time?" then, louder, "i can't believe NOBODY told me."
"oh god," chay mumbles into his hand.
porsche is watching this go down, totally bemused. (vegas is also watching this go down, except vegas actually knows what's going on and is mostly amused about it.)
"chay," porsche says tentatively, "this is macau, vegas's little brother." then he nods expectantly at chay — like chay is supposed to do something now? is chay un-banned??? when the hell did that happen?
chay sighs. "hi, macau," he says, deadpan.
macau shakes his hand vigorously. "you play valorant?" he asks, like macau doesn't roast chay over vc every night.
"i'm gonna kick your ass to the curb," chay mutters, low enough that only macau can hear him.
"maybe when you get good," macau says, unrepentanly smug.
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builder051 · 6 months
Text
And the walls are melting too
(What about you?)
——————————
Nat on Fire
Warnings for graphic descriptions of sickness/gore, references to drug and alcohol use, mentions of sex work, mentions of (the possibility of) sexual abuse, possible unsafe operation of a motor vehicle? That’s probably all. Kinda tame for this ‘verse, actually.
—————————————
Nat drops her forehead against the knuckles that are still white and clutching the steering wheel. She can’t feel her feet. She’s stopped the car, but isn’t sure how. An ounce of instinctual self preservation sends one hand down to yank the E brake. There’s a lag before the rest of her body can accommodate the movement, and Nat’s face slips with the precise alignment and pressure to sound the car horn.
“Fuck.” She should sit up. The steering wheel smells like poorly aged leather. Nat consciously switches to breathing through her mouth. Her parted lips take in the essence of something metallic along with the necessary air.
Now properly oxygenated, Nat’s brain turns on, just enough to reach its base level. Sensory information only. Pain. Tension. The disgusting copper flavor coating her tongue, which is moving back to front. She’s not tasting the steering wheel. She’s experiencing yet another sign of imminent neurological destruction.
The headache would’ve been enough. It could’ve politely introduced itself to her frontal lobe, so Nat would’ve had a chance to swallow some Excedrin. Well, she would’ve if she had actual Excedrin in the pill bottle in her desk drawer. Nat keeps a number of things stashed in benign packaging like that. A baggie of coke and a hand-rolled doobie? Or had she already smoked that? The stamina used to pull up the memory would leave her broke.
Can one be in energetic debt?
“Fuck,” Nat hisses again. “Just fucking stop it.” No more existential questions. No more questions at all.
But where exactly is she? How did she get here? Ugh. It’s one reason she likes benzos. Just drug up and pass out.
Nat chooses to pick her head up, though. She kills the ignition, and the intense vibration noise that’s been drilling into her eardrums lessens ever so slightly. She takes a long exhale and tries dropping her shoulders. If the tone in the back of her neck would budge, just a little… but no dice.
Eye movement. Best to establish that first. Nat blinks, and she catches most green and white sign reflecting back against her windshield. She chooses to ignore the shimmering silver patches or aura and worry more about her powers of deduction.
It’s a Starbucks, the sign illuminated against the dusky sky. She’s managed to park almost within the lines of a single space. Nat almost congratulates herself on the responsibility of getting off the road when her vision started to go. She can’t remember making such positive choices, though, so she throws the appreciation back to fate and sheer luck.
Nat doesn’t remember wanting a coffee, either. The thought of drinking coffee right now is thoroughly unappealing. She’d take a sip of ginger ale, perhaps. The carbonation probably disturb the delicate placement of her pyloric sphincter. She already has the sensation of haven eaten a handful of pennies. Adding anything to the slew of acid and loose change seems dangerous. There’s the self preservation again. Not something Nat cares a lick about.
She paws beside the steering wheel with her right hand, hoping to find her keys without having to look down. If she moves more than one inch, her head will disconnect from her spine and roll into the footwell. Or she’ll vomit. Despite its low odds, Nat’s in favor of escape.
It goes to shit, though. The second she grasps the key, a loud tapping sound just about shoots her out of her skin. Nat throws her left arm over her face and digs blindly into the heap of backpack and parka taking up the passenger seat. Her weapon’s in there. Somewhere. She thinks. Panic makes her hands simultaneously sweaty and numb.
There’s another tap. “Hey, it’s me!”
Nat rummages with enough force to send her coat to the floorboard. Her body rejects the motion, and fluid shoots up her throat. She swallows frantically and claps her hand over her mouth. Every ounce of her effort redirects toward not spewing. She’s about to get carjacked and raped and murdered because she just happens to have a migraine. She has a license to carry. Her profession is basically to stay alive. Sure, she plays limbo with stuff like vodka and xanax, but an overdose would be completely expected and entirely her fault. A headache, though. Fucking bodily functions.
Nat gags, but manages to close her teeth. Everything stays internal, save a miniature jet of spitty bile that shoots into her palm. Caught between certain death and unforgivable disgust, Nat jams her tongue against the roof of her mouth and forces her throat to contract. She manages two concerted gulps before the taste of bile mixes with her excessive saliva. It’s enough. Barely. She’ll probably go volcanic, though, once the danger’s gone. Assuming she indeed survives it.
“It’s Steve!” There’s a third tap. “Are you ok?”
“Are you fucking serious?” Nat croaks under her breath. She scrubs her hand over her lips, though it just smears sticky wetness under her nose and across her chin. Stable for the moment, she squints through the window, and there he is. Bulky. Blonde. Godforsaken bastard.
Nat eases from the perilous edge of fight or flight, and the adrenaline dump moves with gusto to dial up her pain and nausea. She swallows, weakly this time, and opens her door. “—your shoes —“ She manages to splutter as she turns in her seat and rides a gargantuan retch. The heaves are productive and many. Nat barely has time to breathe between waves, and she can’t tell if vomit is dripping from her nostrils or if she’s inhaling it like sea spray. It hardly matters. Nothing matters.
Steve matters. Maybe. Nat can’t think far enough ahead to make a plan to shake him off. She’ll need to come up with something quickly, though, because as soon as her dry gags give way to panting and spitting, he steps around the sizable puddle and crouches at her side.
He’s far too close. Steadying himself with a hand on the door jamb and holding his head and chest practically in her lap. Nat feels his body heat. She smells the mocha latte whatever on his breath, as well as fanning in from the paper cup he has balanced between his knees. Nat tries leaning back, but she has the shakes now. Her abdominal muscles throb from being sick, and they protest het attempt to recline in a partial teaser. No banked amount of Pilates can hold her there, though. Nat collapses forward with her forehead against her knuckles again. She’s angled away from the steering wheel now, though. Her sharp elbows cut into the tender flesh of her thighs. Something bites into her hip as well. Her holster, Nat finally recalls as she reaches the state of full body chills.
Everything hurts. Hurt doesn’t even begin to describe it. Nat’s on a boat in the stormy sea. An invisible giant stacks up points as every axe he flings hits her in the top of her head. Her eyes sizzle under the direct beam of a misaligned spotlight. Her mouth and nose flushed with battery acid. Her entire body feels raw and tender. Nat used to feel it on the knuckles of her toes when her younger self met each morning with a new pair of pointe shoes.
Nat feels young. Almost helpless. She can’t remember the last time she’d thrown up so…organically? Her fingers have calloused where they scrape against her teeth.
Spontaneously? She keeps gatorade in the apartment at all times.
Publicly? Using the facilities of an outdoor garbage can wasn’t exactly private, but…This is different. This is… Nat struggles to sum up the burning soreness that’s migrated from her head to her heart.
It’s most definitely Steve’s fault. The situation is weirdly intimate. Intimate. It’s such a word of casual abandon. And in such a negative way. Nat imagines the attorney’s attack the next door neighbor whose intimacy with one party or another has landed them all in divorce court.
By that definition, Nat’s a serial offender. What would happen if she actually got to know everyone she’s fucked? Treason, probably. International government secrets are shared best over coffee and croissants.
She and Steve have never had coffee and croissants. They’ve had inedible Thanksgiving leftovers. He’s been her tripsitter. He’s stayed overnight in the recliner that dominates her tiny living room. He’s been in her bed. They’ve been…intimate.
Nat despises him. She doesn’t want him around. She wishes he’d go walk off a cliff. Then she could go walk off her own cliff with no hangers-on.
There’s nothing actually wrong with Steve. He’s in Nat’s orbit. They work in the same office. Run into each other in the gym and the parking garage. His presence here in the Starbucks parking lot seems suspicious, but Nat knows if she asks, he’ll say he was just in the neighborhood. That’s what he says when he shows up on her doorstep with rice and green curry in styrofoam to-go boxes.
It doesn’t take much to observe and infer. They’ve run so many trials; it has to be scientific fact. Nat’s broken. Steve likes projects. Nat likes destruction. Steve likes a challenge. Nat will never, ever give in.
Nat raises her head an inch. Pain sears across her scalp. She tries shaking it gently side to side. Communication will eventually become , but Nat may as well have a bowling ball sitting in her skull in place of a brain. Must be. The existential ponderings are back.
Nat pulls in a deep, shuddering breath. She looks over her own knees at the mess of sick and Steve’s running shoes, perched maybe half an inch away. He probably doesn’t really care if his toes dip into a puddle of not quite nuclear waste. But then again, Nat had warned him, and, for now, at least, he’s obeying.
She’ll say something to him. Apologize. Refuse all medical care. Tell him to go away. Nat tries to find words. She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Here.”
Nat opens her eyes. She feels her brows knit.
Steve offers a slightly crumpled brown paper napkin.
The tear hanging tremulously to the corner of her right eye lets go. It sears like hot wax, but the path it leaves is freezing. Her neurological system fails again. Nat’s thoughts evaporate. She has no words. No ability to make choices.
Thin textured paper dabs Nat’s eye. It’s becoming damp. It smells like wood pulp. And coffee. And bile. And salt. She holds it tightly and wipes downward. A combination of friction and gravity erases the tear track from her face.
“Thanks,” she whispers. Nat wads the napkin loosely in her fist. She wants to hold onto it. Useful things are good to keep.
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virescent-v · 5 months
Text
Part II:
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Summary: Emily talks more with Addie as time winds down on her decision. Warnings: none -- our ladies just talk Word count: 2.5k
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck? 
Emily tried to calm her racing mind, wishing she could bring her hands up and rub at her temple. Pros and cons flitted through her mind at a rapid pace, not really allowing her to focus on anything. 
Either way, she figured, she was dead. 
There wasn’t much to a life living as a vampire, was there? 
She knew that she would have to talk to Addie more to get some questions answered before she could reasonably make an informed decision, but she wanted to have some idea of what her mind was thinking. 
As the virus slowly took over her body, Emily tried to piece together what was happening internally. She closed her eyes, taking an internal catalog. Her head was pounding, a thickness that ebbed and flowed with her pulse, which was irregular and fast. Her entire body ached, as if she had run a marathon the day before. Her stomach felt queasy, that weird sensation where you can’t tell if you’re going to throw up or if you need to eat. 
Overall, she felt like shit. 
Her brain tried to rationalize what was going on, but she still couldn’t believe that vampires were real. That she would be one if she decided to be. 
But she still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. 
As the sun began to set, Emily had a list of questions ready for Addie’s return to the room. She was fairly certain that she didn’t want to die die, to cease to exist from this world completely. She still felt like she had so much left to do, so much left to see. 
But. 
On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to be a vampire either. 
Emily’s mind was convoluted with media-based stories of the mythical creatures. Flashes of Twilight and Underworld vampires running through her mind. It couldn’t be like that, though, right? Never allowed out in the sun, blood thirsty, impossible speed? 
But, she really needed to talk to Addie first, to clarify everything, to get her perspective on the way she was living her life. 
Speaking of Addie, Emily questioned how the woman was near her in the warehouse at all. Had she been responsible for some of the murders? Was she an ally to the unsub? 
Could Emily even trust her? 
As Emily’s mind continued to question the woman’s existence, there was a quiet knock at the door.  
Emily tilted her head in the direction of the knock, watching as the door slid slowly open. Addie peaked her head in, glancing curiously at Emily before entering and closing the door behind her. 
Emily finally took Addie in, watching the way the woman carried herself. 
Addie was slightly shorter than Emily, and curvier. Her skin was pale, but still looked sun-kissed, somehow. She had long, wavy, auburn hair that complimented her strikingly beautiful eyes. Her face seemed perfectly structured, as if she was carved from marble. Each step she took towards Emily reverberated throughout the room, her heels commanding attention. She walked with a grace that echoed years of existing. 
Pulling over a chair she had snagged from the desk by the corner, Addie sat down with a long sigh. She smoothed her hands over her thighs. “I can tell by the look on your face that you have a lot of questions for me.” She met Emily’s eyes. “Before you ask them, I figured we could skip some and I can just tell you a little about me.” 
Emily scanned the other woman’s face. She found no trace of anything that raised Emily’s internal alarms, so she just nodded. 
Addie smoothed the skirt of her black dress down, crossing her legs at the ankles and relaxed back into the chair. “As I said before, my name is Adelaide Turner. But, I’ve been known by many other names.” She shrugged. “An issue with being alive as long as I have.” 
Addie played with a loose thread on her skirt. “I was born in May of 1826. I died in late autumn of 1861. I’ve been thirty-five for well over one-hundred and fifty years.” 
Emily felt her eyes widened, disbelieving. 
“I know. I don’t look a day over one-hundred and twenty,” she winked, chuckling lightly at Emily’s facial expressions. 
“I grew up in America, to a wealthy family. My father worked in trade, owned land, and later worked in politics. I’ve continued to build onto his fortune since his passing. I have many business ventures, which I will not get into right now,” she trailed off. 
Emily quirked an eyebrow at her, silently asking about the most pressing question. Why was Addie in the warehouse? 
As if able to read her mind, Addie shook her head. “I won’t be answering questions about the warehouse. Not yet at least. Just know that I am one of the good ones, Emily. But, there are a lot of us out there that are not,” she said, disgust written across her face. 
Another deep sigh. “I got sick– pneumonia. The doctors couldn’t do anything. They were expecting me to die within the night. But, my father brought this man to my bedside. His name was Charlie. He claimed he could cure me and I jumped at the chance. The rest is…well, a very extensive history.” 
Addie looked at Emily as the brunette tried to piece together what information she had. Not that it was much. Something about this woman was captivating, alluring in a mysterious way. Emily felt like she could listen to her for ages. 
“What was the turning process like?” Emily asked. 
Addie’s eyebrows shot up, surprised. “Not the first question I thought that you’d ask, but an important one, I suppose.” Addie leaned forward, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s not pleasant. I won’t lie to you. In the next day, you’ll start having fevers, your headache will worsen, there will be sensitivity to light, not just the sun. Eventually, you will begin to thirst for blood, an insatiable need.” 
Emily gasped slightly. The one thing that truly worried her. She wasn’t sure she could kill people to fulfill her hunger, becoming like one of the people she spent her career chasing down. 
“Don’t worry about the blood, Emily. It’s locally sourced, with consent from volunteers.” 
Emily just gaped, awaiting further explanation. 
“There are people in this world that are human and know of our kind. They volunteer their bodies to us to feed from. Some of them like to be bitten, some just donate blood.” Addie smiled mischievously. “We drink blood from pouches. Like Capri-Suns,” she giggled. 
Emily caught herself almost smiling, enjoying the way this woman carried herself, finding humor and laughs in the midst of a heavy conversation. Quickly, though, her smile faded. 
“Why would they do that, though?” 
Addie’s laughter faded out. “Well, sometimes, they need something from us. Protection, money, whatever.” She shrugged, “Some just enjoy it, as it can be a sort of… sexually charged phenomenon. Others do it hoping one day they’ll get turned, too. Death is a fear felt by many.” 
Emily brought her lip between her teeth. “Why am I tied down?” 
Addie tilted her head. “For your protection, and ours. If you decide to go through with the transformation, once the blood lust kicks in, you will be almost impossible to stop. You will go after anything with blood, including us.” 
Emily’s face screwed up again. “Even you?” 
Addie smirked, a common occurrence for her. “I still have blood, Emily. I just don’t need my heart to pump it. It’s constantly being produced by my bone marrow. Vamps can actually feed off of each other. But if we’re not careful, it can create a blood bond.” She waved her hand dismissively. “A topic for another time.” 
Emily opened and closed her fists a few times, feeling her blood and the virus pumping through her. The tingling, burning sensation was growing steadily, working its way towards her chest. Taking a deep breath, she refocused on Adelaide, pulling her lip between her teeth. “What should I do?” Emily whispered. 
Addie uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her gaze heavy on Emily’s. “I cannot answer that for you. There are pros and cons to both. You will be nearly immortal – there are ways for us to die – and you will watch everyone you love die as you remain the same. There are very strict rules for our kind, ones that prevent us from just turning whoever we want.” 
Emily furrowed her brow, again, for what felt like the millionth time in the past few minutes. “Why did you choose me, then?” 
Addie leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been watching you, Emily. For reasons I cannot – will not – get into right now. Just know, you have been on our list for quite some time. Finding you in that warehouse was almost an act of fate. However, the choice is still yours. I refuse to turn anyone without their consent, without the knowledge of what this really means for you.” 
Emily looked at the auburn-haired woman’s expression, her nonverbal cues. Being a profiler was a hard skill to turn off sometimes. There was a disdain there, which Emily figured as much by the consent comment. A trauma hidden under years of emotional walls. Emily found herself wanting to know more, wanting to know all of the intimate knowledge of the mysterious woman’s life. 
Emily chose to not dig deeper, not wanting to sully the woman’s playful spirit. Emily glanced towards Addie, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So,” Emily smirked, watching Addie’s attention divide between her eyes and smile. “Is this like Twilight?” 
At that, Addie’s head fell back in full belly laughter, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. It was a deep rumble, melodic almost. A sound that Emily realized she wanted to hear more. 
Through her laughter, “No, Emily, I don’t sparkle in the sun.” She wiped an errant tear from her eye. She shook her head from side to side, enjoying the banter to lighten the mood a little. 
Emily’s eyes grew, lit up a little. “If I turn, do I get powers?” 
Addie rolled her eyes, but did not seem surprised by the question. “Our profile on you said you had your childish moments, liked to joke, but you are far exceeding my expectations.” 
Emily smiled widely, but then paused. “Profile?” 
Addie lifted a brow. “I told you, I’ve been watching you, Agent Prentiss.” 
Emily continued to stare at the woman, waiting for an answer to her original question. Adelaide sighed, “There are certain…perks, yes. Some of the myths and stories about us are based on facts, you know.” 
In a moment, a swift blur moved some of Emily’s hair. Within a flash, Addie was across the room near the fireplace, looking composed. “We can move quickly, that is true.” She picked up the iron poker and swiftly bent it in half. “We are stronger than you can imagine.” In another flash, she was back at Emily’s side, her face close to the brunette’s. 
Emily’s breath stuttered, her body caught off guard by the quick movements and closeness. It felt like every hair on her body stood up. 
Addie’s eyes seemed to almost glow gold, connecting with Emily’s in an almost trance. “We have the ability to dominate human minds, sending people into an almost trance-like state. We can read the minds of people we feed from, harness their memories, but only if we bite them. Depending on the human’s will, they can hold us off on entering their minds, but not forever. We can destroy their sanity if we want. But, again, that’s one of our heavily enforced rules.” She tilted her head a little, her eyes glancing past Emily through the door, a little lost almost. “We can communicate with each other telepathically if we share a blood bond.” Emily wondered what that was about. 
Coming back to herself, Addie trailed her hand down Emily’s arm, sending shivers through her. “We have greater sensitivity – to sounds, to touch, to cold and hot. It can make for some…interesting moments.” As Addie’s hand brushed Emily’s, the innuendo was apparent. It was intriguing to say the least. 
Addie walked around Emily, settling back into the chair. “As we age and mature, we can gain what you call powers,” she rolled her eyes again. “But they aren’t like Twilight. Simplistic elemental changes, mind control, the ability to defy gravity. Nothing crazy like Bella’s shield or Jane’s pain illusion.” 
Emily looked confused. “Everything you’re telling me sounds like a win, really. Immortality, super speed, strength, mind control? Doesn’t seem like many downsides, really.” 
Addie just tilted her head, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Humans,” she muttered. “Such simplistic beings.” She cleared her throat, leaning forward in the chair again, making sure Emily was paying attention. 
“There are downsides, Emily. You have to keep them in mind. We are semi-immortal. Yes, we live forever, but we can still die. There are ways to kill us. We are hunted by those that do not agree with our existence.” Addie’s face seemed to fall, more saddened and serious than Emily had seen. “Your friends and family cannot know of your status as a vamp, Emily. You can still visit them for a little after you turn, but eventually you will have to leave them. They will continue to age and you will not. They will die and you won’t be allowed near them. Everyone you know today will be dead. Any human you meet will die and you will still be here.” 
Emily pondered that for a moment. She didn’t have many family – her relationship with her mother was already strained. Her only true family was her team. She wasn’t sure she could watch them die. She looked at Addie, trying to piece together the missing pieces. “You said human. You must have other vamps that you are close with?” 
Addie chewed on her lip, her eyes downcast. Her voice sounded more raw, more emotional than Emily had seen. “Yes, of course. Vampires usually belong to a coven, an order. They become your family.” A stifled sniffle. When Addie looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed. “We aren’t invincible, Emily. We lose each other, too.” 
Emily knew not to push. The emotion barely hidden behind the strong facade Adelaide put out. Asking for more details right now wouldn’t get her far, and she didn’t want to push her luck with the woman who held her life in her hands. 
Addie cleared her throat, trying to shove the emotion back down. “Do you have any other questions?” 
“You said you were watching me, chose me. That your presence in the warehouse was almost fate-like. Why? Why me? What do you want with me?” 
Addie once again rose from the chair and looked out the window. “We’re running out of time for your decision.” She walked to the door and paused in the entryway. She tried to smile a little, tried to convey everything to Emily in a single look. “This life is full of… interesting characters. It’s my job to keep them in line. I figured I could use your help, Agent Prentiss. Are you up for the challenge?” She asked, eyebrow lifted once more.
With that, Addie closed the door and left Emily to her thoughts, her decision looming over her.
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study-coffee-chicago · 8 months
Text
Witches AU (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)
A/N: I'm back! Sorry, it took so long for an update. I moved out of state for grad school a few months ago and I'm working 30-35 hours/wk on top of a full graduate-level course load. Because of this, this imagine is not proofread because I wanted to get this out to you guys. (I also wanted to post this before Halloween, but I had a ton of exams, so I'm just getting it up now.)
Anyway, enjoy!
Math has always sucked. It's confusing and why do you even have to know all of this stuff?
Wasn't this stuff just made up thousands of years ago? So why do I even need to know it? Isn't it all fake anyway. Like, maybe it's not even real and we're just learning stupid shit to learn stupid shit, you thought to yourself as you stared at your math test in front of you.
You looked around the room. You knew you weren't supposed to do this, but you muttered a transference spell under your breath to transfer the information from deep inside your brain where you couldn't find it onto the paper.
Hailey Upton was watching from her teacher's desk out of the corner of her eye, obscured by a book so her students wouldn't know that she was watching.
She knew a witch when she saw one.
***
Will might call his little brother, Jay, overprotective, but at the moment, Jay didn't care. His witch's mark burned, alerting him that either you or Will had just used magic.
Typically, this didn't happen, but there was a potion one could make so that one knew when another person used magic. Jay knew his mom used this on him and Will when they were younger even though she had never told them.
The most important ingredient in this potion was blood from the person who you wanted to know was using magic. This had been easy enough for Jay to come by. All he did was break open your razor, take out a blade, then quickly dip it in the mixture.
Jay had shuddered to think about where the razor had been when he took the potion like a shot a few minutes later. Then, he quickly brushed his teeth to rid himself of the taste of the potion.
Jay glanced at the clock.
You were in math class right now. He knew this because whenever he needed to text you, he made sure to do so during your lunch period, and a lot of times you'd text him back and say something along the lines of gotta go. Math class with a crying emoji.
And, you had been telling him for the past few days how you had a math test.
The man was both a witch and a police detective.
He easily put the pieces together: you used magic to cheat on a math test.
You broke the rules.
Do not use magic in your profession unless it is for the greater good.
Since your profession was currently a student and there was nothing at school that would really be for the greater good, Jay and Will had discussed it and had deemed that you weren't allowed to use magic at school.
Jay made a mental note to prepare a truth serum for you to drink when you got home from school.
***
"Jay, she's a kid," Will said when Jay called him later that day when he was on his way home from work.
"Yeah, and? Mom and Dad took our magic from us when we tried to throw a basketball game in our favor."
"Yeah because we were basically trying to injure the other team."
"Fair point. But, if we let her get away with it now, she'll think she can get away with it all the time and next thing you know, she's cheating on her SATs."
"Fine. Just give it back to her by the end of Halloween."
"Will, I'm not that stupid. I'll make sure she gets them back by then. Don't want her losing her powers forever."
The rule was, and always has been, if a witch loses their powers and still doesn't have them on the night of Sanheim, the night when the spirit world and mortal worlds collide--which is now called Halloween--they would lose their powers forever.
Will and Jay lived in fear whenever they did something wrong during the month of October that their parents would take their powers from them, but luckily, they never did anything that stupid...at least, not during the month of October. November and December, now those months were different stories.
"Might make her wait until the last minute until she gets them back, though," Jay said.
"Just, make it at least an hour before midnight. We don't need any issues."
"Yeah, yeah. And, before you mention it, yes, I'm giving her truth serum when she gets home in case I'm wrong."
"Good. I'll be expecting a phone call from her."
"Why?"
"We both know she calls me when she's pissed at you," Will said. "And then she'll want me to call you and tell you to give her her powers back. Or, she'll beg me to override your spell."
"Please don't give in, Will. I know how you get."
Will rolled his eyes. "I won't. Unless you start cutting it close, then I might have to. But, we both know how hard eye of newt is to get these days, so please save me the money."
"Don't worry. Everything will be fine. But, I gotta go. I have a truth serum to make."
"She's gonna know what you're making the minute she walks into the house. That one smells terrible."
"Oh, trust me, I know.
***
When you saw Jay's truck in the parking lot of your apartment building, you thought nothing of it; you just thought he and his team had finished with a case early.
But, when you walked in, you gagged and dry-heaved.
"Oh my god," you groaned and plugged your nose. "Jay, what are you cooking? It smells like burnt, day-old, rotten fish."
Jay walked out of his room with a clothespin pinching his nose closed.
"I'm giving you one chance to come clean or else you get to taste it."
"Come clean about what?" you asked while you set down your backpack so that you'd have something to do with your hands.
"Cut the crap, Y/N. You have one chance to tell me why my witch's mark burned when you were in math class today or else you get to taste the truth serum. And, just a heads up, the taste is worse than the smell and the aftertaste is even worse. And it's slimy."
"You charmed my magic?" you asked.
"Was that a confession?"
"No!"
Jay walked further into the kitchen and opened a drawer that contained silverware. He pulled out a spoon and then made his way to the pot that was bubbling on the stove. "Last chance, kid."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me." He stuck the spoon in the potion and dished some out.
You unplugged your nose and smelled. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And then, you dry-heaved and started to feel the snack you ate in your second to last class churn in your stomach.
"Fine! I used magic to help me with one problem on my math test, happy?"
"Very." Then, he snapped his fingers and the pot disappeared, taking the smell with it. Then, he snapped again, but this time, he did so with both hands and made a gesture with his arms from you to him.
You hoped he was taking the nausea from your body.
You swore you could still it, though, so you walked over and opened the pumpkin spice candle that sat on the kitchen counter. Maybe he just wanted you to admit that you were guilty and all of this would blow over...it wasn't like Jay, but, he had gotten out of work earlier than usual, so maybe he was in a good mood.
You pointed your pointer finger at the candle and muttered the spell.
Nothing happened.
"Yeah, you're gonna need this," Jay said and then made a lighter appear on the counter with a snap of his fingers. "Your finger's gonna be out of commission for a while."
"What do you..." Then, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. Will always told you stories of when Mom and Dad took his and Jay's magic away when they used it when they weren't supposed to. "You didn't!"
"Don't cheat on your math test."
"Jay! It was one question! And, I just couldn't remember the formula! I didn't even use it for the problem! Just the formula! You gotta believe me! I promise!"
Jay muttered something under his breath and then stared right at you, just above your head.
Unbeknownst to you, he had made a puff of smoke pop up above you, which said truth or lie...and you were telling the truth. Despite this, Jay wasn't going back now. He had to teach you a lesson. And, he'd make sure to give you your powers back by Halloween.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," he told you. "But, you have to understand, that magic is a slippery slope. You can't just use it for your own gain all the time. Mom always said that magic is for the greater good, and what you did today was selfish--"
"But--"
"No buts. You'll get your magic back when I say you can have it back."
"But Sanheim's in two weeks! If I don't get my powers back by then, I'll be mortal! Please, Jay! Give them back!"
"No can do, kid. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it."
"I'm calling Will!"
"We already talked about this, so good luck."
You huffed and marched off towards your room.
"I hate you!"
"If you want your powers back by Sanheim, I'd shut up if I were you! And, make sure you wake up earlier tomorrow to pack your lunch for school because your powers can't do it for you!"
You threw your head back and groaned. If you had your powers, you'd seriously hex your brother right now.
***
"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Miss Upton asked at the end of your math class the next day.
Oh no. Jay called her. Now you were in trouble at home and at school.
"Sure," you answered.
Once all the students left, she closed the door and then gestured for you to sit in the chair across from her desk.
You were in deep shit now.
"Did you cheat on the test yesterday?"
"I--" You were about to tell her that you didn't, but you knew lying would just make it worse. It was better for you to just come clean. You hung your head. "Yes," you admitted reluctantly. "But, it was only the volume formula for a cylinder! I didn't use it for any number or anything! I just couldn't remember the formula."
Miss Upton nodded. "I see." She'd dealt with kids cheating before, so she knew that if a kid admitted to it, they were usually telling the truth about the cheating. They either doubled down on their lie or told the truth; there was no in-between. "Tell you what, since this is the first time this has happened and you only used it in the formula, I won't tell the principal, and I'll just adjust your grade and take off the points for that problem as if it were incorrect."
You didn't know what to say; you thought for sure that this was going to go on your record the second you admitted to cheating. So, all you could feel was gratitude. "Thank you. It won't happen again, I swear!"
"I wouldn't get too far ahead of yourself," Miss Upton warned. "I do need to have a conversation with your parents about this."
"My um, my guardian," you told her. "It's my brother who's in charge of me. My, um, my parents both passed."
"Y/N, I'm so sorry."
You nodded. "Thank you."
There was a lull in the conversation as Hailey processed what you had just said. She knew that your brother signed permission slips and all that for you, but she thought that was just because your parents were busy working. But, she knew she needed to continue this conversation.
"I'll need to have a conversation with your brother, then. I'll make the phone call during lunch. I'd like you to be present for the meeting."
"Okay. He already knows."
Hailey furrowed her eyebrows. Typically kids wouldn't come clean about this to their parents. But, she thought you were a witch; she just wanted to see what you'd say next.
"You told him?"
You shrugged. "Guilty conscience, I guess."
"I see." She paused. "Well, that was everything about the test. One more thing."
"Yeah?" You knew geometry wasn't your best class, but you didn't think there was anything else in this class that warranted your attention, much less would be brought to Miss Upton's attention.
"Agam ense?"
Your eyes widened, but you quickly recovered. She did not just ask you that.
Agam ense.
When flipped from its backward state, was Esne maga.
Are you a witch? in Latin.
No way Jay's giving you your powers back now.
***
What Jay did not expect to be getting was a frantic phone call from you at 10:06 in the morning.
"I gotta take this. It's Y/N." He told his team. Then, he walked into the break room, which was soundproof.
"Why are you calling me? Aren't you supposed to be in class?" He had already taken your powers, he really didn't know how normal adults disciplined their kids. Maybe take her phone? No, that would be a safety issue. So, what was he supposed to—"
"Miss Upton knows," you said.
"Knows what? That you cheated?" Jay asked. He hadn't even thought about telling your teacher due to the fact that he had been absolutely livid with you yesterday. Maybe he should've done that.
"Yes, but she knows that I'm..." you trailed off. Then, you whispered. "She knows I'm a witch."
Jay took a deep breath to avoid losing his shit. They were gonna take you from him and put you in a mental hospital. He'd have to get a lawyer ASAP. So, all he could manage was, "How?"
"She's one two. She even spoke bruja to me. That's how she asked."
"Did she show you her mark?" Jay asked.
"No. But she erased the board by pointing her finger at the board and making the eraser erase. I didn't believe her, so I told her my water bottle was empty, because it was, and with a snap of her fingers, it was full again."
"Holy shit," Jay muttered.
"I'm telling you in case she brings it up tonight when you have to meet her about me cheating. She's gonna give you a call in an hour during lunch."
"Okay. Wow, okay. I expected something bad, but not something like this."
You stayed quiet, waiting for Jay to lose his shit for being so careless. But, instead, you just got silence. "So, you're not mad?"
"If it was a mortal who caught you, then I'd be mad. But, a witch can find their own kind. So, in this case, I'm not mad. Plus, I already took your magic. I don't know if there's anything else I could really do."
"So, I'll get my magic back by Sanheim?" You asked hopefully.
"We'll see. Now, get to class, kid."
Once he hung up, he sighed. He was about to leave the break room and get back to working on his current case, but then he remembered that he needed to call Will to tell him about the latest development in your cheating and powers saga. Sometimes, he wished he were mortal. But then, he remembered he didn't have to wait for the coffee to brew in the morning because it was done with a snap of his fingers...literally.
***
"What did Will say?" Jay asked when he walked into school that afternoon, half an hour after school had been let out for the day. He had told his team he had to talk to your teacher, and, since the case was close to being closed, they let him leave early.
"Left me a voice memo. Almost made me go deaf because I had my headphones in when I played it," you answered.
Jay winced. "That bad, huh?"
"I'll let you listen to it when we get home."
"Nah. Don't think I need to. I called him after you called me and he basically told me what he was going to say to you...thought he would've cooled off between then and talking to you, though."
"Definitely not. He even mentioned experimentation, the pyres, hangings—"
"Yup. He told me that's what hew was going to tell you. Definitely didn't cool off. Maybe he needs to take a walk before recording those."
You agreed, then took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with." Then, you led the way to Miss Upton's classroom.
"Mr. Halstead, Y/N, please, take a seat," Miss Upton said and gestured to the two chairs that she had placed in front of her desk.
"Please, call me, Jay," Jay said when he took a seat. "I'm too young to be addressed as Mr. Halstead."
"In that case, call me Hailey," Miss Upton said. 
"Alright, Hailey, where would you like to start?"
Hailey opened a drawer of her desk and pulled out a few pieces of paper, which were stapled together. She laid it out in front of her and you could see that it was the test that you had taken yesterday. "So, Y/N told me that she had a guilty conscience so she came clean to you yesterday that she cheated." She flipped to a page of the test. She only cheated to get the formula for this problem. And, since this is her first time being in any sort of trouble, I've explained to her that I'm only going to take off the points for the problems where this formula was used and I'm going to refrain from telling the principal."
"Yes, she told me," Jay confirmed. "And, I can promise you, that it will not happen again."
"I'd hope not. I just want to go over next steps with you if this were to occur again..."
You zoned out at this part because you knew this wasn't going to happen again, not after Jay took your powers away. Now, if you had gotten away with it, then this might be a different story. But man, that consequence really made you rethink your actions. 
"Just remember, Sanheim," Miss Upton said. 
The mention of the ancient festival that Halloween is based off of made you refocus. 
What about Sanheim?
"I know. I won't be too hard on her."
You assumed the two had quickly discussed that Jay had taken your powers...or, Jay hadn't mentioned a single thing and Hailey had just mentioned that as a reminder. Maybe she had been rebellious during her teen years and had a scare just like you had.
Jay's phone buzzed. "That's probably work," he said. "Is this all? If not, we can continue this conversation later. Maybe, over coffee?"
Your jaw almost dropped, but you refrained from doing that. You knew Jay was a flirt, but this was a whole new level. 
"That was all. And, coffee would be nice. But, let's continue this later. I have other tests to grade."
She shot you a wink, and you were grateful she understood that you were weirded out by this whole interaction. 
Then, the two of you began to walk out of the classroom, but not before Jay snapped his fingers. 
He paused a second and you continued to walk out of the classroom. Obviously that was something for Miss Upton. 
"I'll see you then," she said. 
And then Jay came out in the hallway. 
"What did you do?" you asked. 
"Just had a sticky note pop up with a time and a coffee shop. We're meeting on Friday before school."
Then, once you were safely out of the building and into the parking lot where no one would hear you, you said, "Please don't date my teacher...at least wait until I get my powers back. Or, wait, maybe date her. It might get my grades up."
Jay rolled his eyes. "I'll do what I want, thank you very much. Plus, she's a witch, so if anything happens, I don't have to have that conversation."
"Always easier dating a witch than explaining things to someone. How do you think the Salem witch trials started?"
"Exactly. Now, I gotta get back to work. See you later." 
"See you. Can I have my--" 
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to say!"
"You were going to ask for your powers back. It hasn't even been 24 hours. No."
You walked away, but not without muttering, "I hoped because you're going on a date you might be in a good mood. Guess not."
"I heard that!"
***
10 days later, October 28
It was 4 days until November 1. You had 3 days, 6 hours, and 37 minutes to get your powers back before they were gone for good. Jay was in a good mood after his not one, but two dates with Miss Upton, and hadn't worked any crazy cases at work. At least, he hadn't worked any that you knew of anyway. 
Also, for the past two days, you had followed Will's advice: Maybe stop asking and Jay will give them back. 
You were skeptical about this advice, but you figured it was worth a shot. But, your patience was wearing thin. 
He still hasn't given them back! you texted Will. 
And he's still at work and you still have 3 days! he answered.
You sighed and flopped down on the couch. He'd give them back...right?
***
October 31
It was currently Halloween on a Saturday night. While all of your friends were out (underage) drinking, you were sitting at home, trying to focus on watching Hocus Pocus (even though it was definitely not an accurate portrayal of witches), and every five minutes you were trying to move something or get another glass of apple cider from the kitchen by using a spell. But, nothing worked. 
You looked at the clock on your phone as the credits to the movie began to roll. It had just hit 11pm. 
"How's it feel?" Jay asked. 
"What?" you asked. You were too focused on how the hell you were going to live as a mortal. Because, if Jay hadn't given you your powers back yet, you'd never get them back. 
"Your powers. I just transferred them back to you."
"No, you didn't. I didn't feel anything."
Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Yes, I did."
You tried to fold the blanket by using a spell. 
Nothing. 
"Maybe I have to say it out loud instead of whispering." 
He recited the spell which translated to: Now that she has learned to use her powers for good and not for selfish deeds, give her back her powers that she needs.
"Try something now."
You tried the simplest spell, a spell to levitate anything in front of you.
Nothing. 
All your rage came flying out at once. 
"I. Hate. You!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. "I won't get my powers back because you just had to prove a point and wait until the last fucking minute! Fuck!"
"Y/N, I'm sorry! They should be back, it's not midnight yet!"
"Well, they aren't back! I hate you!"
Then, you grabbed your keys and slipped on your tennis shoes, not caring that you were just in sweatpants and a hoodie despite it beginning to snow. 
Normally, Jay would yell at you to come back, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. 
He quickly pulled out his phone and walked into his room. After dialing Will's number and putting the phone on speaker, he opened his safe and then took out the false bottom where he kept the family's spellbook that had been passed down for generations. 
"Hello?"
"Will I fucked up!"
Will looked at the time on his phone and his heart dropped. "You didn't read the fine print, did you?"
"What fine print? There's no fine print!" He flipped to the page where the spell was. "All the letters are normal sized!" He began to read the spell over the spell over the phone. "If not given back by the person who took these powers when Sanheim turns to the first of November under the dark of Boston's sky, then this witch will remain powerless forever."
"Boston, Jay! What time is it in Boston?"
"What are you talking about? It's--" And then it dawned on him: Boston was one hour ahead of Chicago; It was already November first there. "Shit."
"Keep looking through the spellbook," Will urged. "I'm on my way over. There is no way Y/N's losing her powers over a technicality."
***
You sat in the dark of the night, using your phone as the only light to look at your mom's gravestone. If she were here, this never would have happened. She would have given you your powers back earlier. And now, you were mortal. You could die of anything. And, without powers and your parents, was life even worth living at all? 
***
"There has to be something in here," Jay muttered as he flipped through the spellbook from front to back once more. 
Then, a knock sounded. "It's me!" Will yelled. 
"Come in!" Jay yelled back.
The minute he heard the door open and close, he grabbed the spellbook and brought it out to the kitchen table. 
"Last page. Everyone's notes," Will ordered. 
"I already looked there!"
"Well look again!" Will ordered. He had half a mind to rip the book off the table and throw it at Jay's head, but he decided not to...but only because he didn't want to rip any pages and ruin the spellbook. 
The two poured over the book for ten minutes and were about to flip the page when Will stopped them. 
"Remember, blood is stronger than any spell," he read. 
"Yeah, so? Family's stronger than magic."
"What if Mom meant blood, like actual blood."
Jay's eyes widened. "You're a fucking genius!" 
Then, he flipped back to the page where the original spell was while Will grabbed a knife from the kitchen. 
"You cast the spell, so it's all you," Will said. 
Jay took the knife from Will and then cut his finger just enough that blood started to pool. Then, he held his finger over the page. 
One drop...Two drops...Three drops. 
The page turned black and white lettering began to materialize on the page. 
"If ye be in dire need of thy powers," Jay began to read, "like this spell, thou shalt need three witches, one must be a descendent of those who were imprisoned for their crimes and could have perished in the pyres, by hanging, or drowning."
"Great," Will said. "So we need three witches and one has to be a direct descendent from either England or Salem."
"Hailey," Jay muttered. 
"What?"
"Hailey Upton, Y/N's teacher. We went on a few dates, she's a witch, she mentioned she grew up out east!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're dating Y/N's teacher? Since when?" Will asked while Jay ran to his room and grabbed his phone. 
"I wouldn't call it dating. We've only gone on two dates. I told Y/N not to tell you or else she wouldn't get her powers back."
"And now she might not even get them back! I'm calling Y/N to tell her to come home, you call Hailey. You sure as hell better hope that you're right about where she's from."
***
"A technicality!" you yelled when you walked inside your and Jay's apartment after getting that phone call from Will. "I lost my powers because of a fucking technicality?"
"Take a deep breath." You recognized that voice. But, why...
"Miss Upton?" you asked. 
"We need three witches to break the spell and one has to be from Salem," Jay said. 
"Or, a descendent of those who came from Salem. Technically, I lived in Boston. Then I moved here when I was twelve," Hailey said. 
"Okay, so you guys can reverse it?" you asked. You really didn't care about the semantics right now. 
"We think so," Will said. 
Then, he grabbed one of Jay's hands and Jay took his other hand to grab Hailey's.
"Ready?" Jay asked. 
"Yes," Hailey answered and Will nodded. 
The three of them closed their eyes and recited the spell. 
The second they were finished, you could feel the blood moving in your veins, almost like there were bubbles. Your fingertips glowed for five seconds after that. And then, you felt normal again. 
"Did it work?" Jay asked.
"I don't know, it felt weird, but I don't know." 
At this point, you were scared to try any magic because what if you just imagined those feelings? what if it was just your eyes playing tricks on you?
"Try a spell," Will urged. 
You pointed your finger at the table and focused on thinking about an Oreo milkshake. And then, one appeared!
"They're back! They're back!" you yelled and grabbed the milkshake. Then you took one sip. But then, you remembered something. "Thank you, Miss Upton! You're the best teacher ever! I'm sorry I cheated and I'll never do it again! I promise!"
Miss Upton smiled. "I know you won't."
"I think," Will began, "this calls for celebratory IHOP."
"Yes!"
"I'm down," Jay said. 
"Not for you, Jay. This is only for me, Y/N, and Hailey if she wants to come. You're the one who got us into this mess in the first place."
Jay rolled his eyes, but deep down, he knew he deserved it. 
"I can make some really good pancakes," Hailey offered. 
You might have just been in high school, but you knew where this was going. 
"C'mon, Will, let's go," you said and pulled him out the door while drinking your milkshake. 
"I don't have a tail or anything, do I?" Jay asked when you and Will had left. 
Hailey laughed. "No, you don't."
"Good, because I'm sure those two are going to hex me one way or another. That's probably what they're talking about right now."
Hailey laughed. "I'm not saying you deserved it..."
Jay cocked his head to the side. "Yes, you are." He took a step closer. "Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?"
Hailey shook her head. "Is this your way of flirting?"
"Depends. Is it working?"
"Maybe," Hailey smiled. Then, the two began leaning in. Hailey could almost feel Jay's lips on hers when she noticed something and pulled back. "Why does your breath smell like toad?"
Jay threw his head back and groaned. "Will! Y/N!"
"I'm sure we can find a spell to fix that, c'mon," Hailey said. 
Then, she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the kitchen table and their two spellbooks, which would eventually turn into one big one as the years passed and they fell deeper and deeper in love. 
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and don't forget to reblog and comment! Even though I don't respond to a lot of the comments, I do see them and I love seeing them! Thanks again for reading! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know and I can add you!
taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @actlikesummerr@lcothr523 @star-wars-lover
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dreamersbcll · 11 months
Text
“Ink Blots”
for @krikeymate
3/5
——————————————————————————
May 19th, 2018
Dear Sam,
Two years. Two whole years. You got up and left. No surprise. I’m still where you left me.
Every day I wake up, and there’s five seconds of bliss before I remember. You’re there for a heartbeat, nothing more. I can almost feel your breath on my cheek and your hand brushing through my hair
I can picture it all. You are holding me, your chin buried into my shoulder. I am holding your hands as they wrap around me. It’s imprinted on my brain.
Amber tells me every day that I need to move on. That you’re long gone. That when you were here, you were never really here. It’s like a broken record.
Yet, She’s right in some ways. You always chose any other substance but me.
But I don’t want to admit that she’s right. She would take it and run. I love her, but she’s a little too intense sometimes. We’ve watched the Stab movies every night since you left like clockwork. I don’t get it.
Please come home. The back door is always open. I don’t lock my bedroom door anymore. You can slip in.
Love, Tara.
——
June 15th, 2018
Dear Samantha,
Formal right? I found your birth certificate and some other documents today. Well, Amber did. She looked through my shit earlier, claiming she “wanted to see if you took your personal information.”
Spoiler: you didn’t. But I don’t know why you would. I’m pretty sure just a driver’s license is needed to disappear.
Anyways, I put your shit into a box and hid it under the floorboards. You’ll find it one day, I’m sure.
I couldn’t find my information. Maybe I’m not a Carpenter. That would be something, huh? Being able to escape this hell family line.
A girl can dream.
Tara Carpenter (maybe).
——
September 27th, 2018
Dear Sam,
High school sucks. Sophomore year sucks. I hate this place.
I don’t want to do anything. I hate math. I’m not good at history. I can’t remember shit.
All the teachers give me looks. Looks of sympathy, disgust, suspicion. I think they recognize the family name. School wasn’t your thing, but it would’ve been nice if you didn’t fuck it up for me. I can barely keep up with the shit they throw at me.
The only one who’s forgiving me is my English teacher Ms. Smith. She has kind, gentle brown eyes, just like yours. Surprisingly, she’s the only teacher who believes in me.
We read books a lot. She helps mentor me in critical writing skills.
Who knows. Maybe I’ll write a book and make us famous, just like that Gale Weathers lady.
Tara
——
November 16th, 2018
Dear Sam,
Do you ever wonder if Mom was ever good? Did we make her this way?
Did I make her this way?
I’m so sick of cleaning up broken bottles and piles of puke. I’m so tired of watching her wither away right before my eyes. I can’t even save her. I can’t tell her to stop. I can’t get her to stop.
Begging and pleading never worked. Trust me; I’ve been trying it with you every night. I think God, or whatever deities I pray to, stopped listening years ago.
It’s strange. First, Dad leaves. Then you. And now Mom had her foot halfway out the door. Is it me? Do you all leave because of me?
What the hell did I do?
Confused, Tara.
——
December 14th, 2018
Dear Sam,
Sweet sixteen. Happy birthday to me. Not that you cared.
Mindy and Chad decorated my locker. Amber bought me flowers and a cake. Ms.Smith gave me a new journal. Mom went on a business trip to Singapore.
And… I’m sixteen. I have a handful of people that care. But they don’t matter. They don’t fucking matter.
I want you, Sammy. You promised to teach me how to drive. You promised to take me for my license. I’ve had to learn how to drive with Amber. And she’s taking me for my license tomorrow. Everything you were supposed to do.
But I suppose this is what you wanted. You would’ve come back if it wasn’t.
I hope wherever you are sucks. I hope you feel my disappointment and anger from here. I’m furious with you. I hate it.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Tara
——
January 1st, 2019
Dear Sam,
I’m drunk and I miss you and I wish you were here I wish you loved me I want you to love me come back come back come back
Love Tara
——
February 18th, 2019
Dear Sam,
I got picked for the school newspaper—advice column. I laughed in Ms. Smith’s face when she offered it to me.
Advice column. As if I would be the one to give advice. I can’t get anyone to stay.
Did you hear that Robbie Sullivan asked me on a date? I said yes. He never showed up to the theater. Amber was pissed. He came to school the next day with a broken arm and fractured ribs. He said some asshole attacked him.
Funny. Amber talked about a scene in the Stab franchise where someone gets ambushed and hurt. Seemed familiar.
Anyways. School is slow, and life is passing me by. Chad is a big-shot basketball player. I haven’t gone to a game. I can’t stand being in a room full of people and feeling so alone. Mindy is okay with it. She comes over sometimes to braid my hair and make my bed.
Everything is in slow motion. Time is passing, but not at all.
Do you feel that way?
Tara.
——
April 4th, 2019
Dear Sam,
I’m doing fine. I’m regaining all my strength and self-worth in record time. I brush my hair most days and even clean my room once a week.
I stopped going through the photos I kept under my bed. I feel no need to reflect on the past right now because that’s all I can do. There’s no future when I know you’re out there ignoring me.
Maybe even forgetting about me.
I joined a club. A book club. It’s nice just sitting there and letting people’s opinions swallow me whole. I can listen and nod, and everyone leaves me alone; because I’m not moping around anymore. Amber is happier anyways. She was so angry with me for being sad all the time.
Jokes on her; I’m still sad. But I can’t lose anything else anymore, so sadness is a wasted feeling. I can walk for hours in the darkness, stay up all night, pray, and it still wouldn’t matter.
You are still gone, and I am here. I might as well try.
Tara.
——
May 19th, 2019
Dear Sam,
Three years.
I don’t know if I have any tears left to cry for you. I’ve accepted that I’ll never see you again if you could help it.
I hope that once I’m out of this town, you come back, looking for me. And when I’m not there, you understand how it feels.
I try not to be mean. But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? An escape from me. You were leaving me before I could infect you with whatever darkness swirls inside me.
No explanation comes to my mind besides the one where you’re sick of me.
I don’t blame you. I get it.
Love, Tara.
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cayde6feetunder · 5 months
Text
If you think my support for Palestine = antisemitism you are not very smart. You’re actually fucking stupid. If you see the statistics of this genocide and cry “it’s antisemitism!” Or you take “Israel is a settler colonial state and needs to be dismantled” as “massacre the Jews lol” not even a brain grown in a lab by expert scientists for the sole purpose of filling the cavity in your skull can save you and it sure as all hell can’t save you from the fucking bullshit conditioning you grew up under (that you have to save yourself from).
Taking “giving Palestine back to its indigenous landowners” as “we are going to violently kick out the people who presently live in Israel” is not only disgustingly inaccurate but is also the exact same shit that racists say about Landback over here on Turtle Island. Landback is the reversal of colonialism, not the continuation of it. Dear lord why the fuck does this have to be spelled out.
There are antizionist Jews. There ar Palestinian Jews. There is an entire coalition of antizionist Jews, with a site FULL OF INFORMATION, including about Zionism, readily available. Can’t put links cos I’m on mobile right now but it takes one google search to find Jewish Voice For Peace.
And also, the phrase “from the river to the sea” is OLDER THAN HAMAS. This I’m not even gonna bother citing a source for because it’s so surface level it’s on fucking WIKIPEDIA as the first thing to pop up on google which is as surface level as it gets.
There are absolutely people who are jumping at the opportunity to be antisemitic. That I’m not doubting. But trust me, TRUST ME, if you’re in the right circles and have the brain capacity to detect an Actual Nazi you shouldn’t even have to look at them. That doesn’t mean that it’s a nonissue, it absolutely has to be addressed and it is being addressed by many people already. BUT. Generalizing the entire antizionist movement as “neonazis” is fucking reductive, general and frankly disgusting because of just why so many people are antizionists in light of recent events. You have a toddler level black and white association and it shows agonizingly. And, ergo, THERE ARE ANTIZIONIST JEWS.
Dear fucking lord I’m so angry and I’m so fucking tired. God fucking dammit. There’s more I want to say but I am so close to just throwing my phone at the wall.
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