#do i make a move or is three days not a lot of time to get over that

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] epilogue

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: together you make a new start.

wc: 2.6k

ch. warnings: no explicit content but there is some conversation about sex, i teared up while writing this; does that count as a warning?

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: what a fucking time we live in. take good care ♡

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

“I think these are the last ones,” Wooyoung says, patting the stack of boxes next to him. “Did we get everything from your side?”

“Yeah, we emptied that out yesterday,” you say. “This… this is it.”

San hums thoughtfully, putting an arm around each of you. “End of an era isn’t it?”

The three of you stand by the doorway to the living area, looking over an empty, forlorn apartment.

Depressingly bare walls, furniture replaced by nostalgia. It doesn’t even look like anyone ever stayed here at all. The only concrete proof of your life here is the kitchen cabinet’s crooked door, busted when San hit his head so hard you’d worried he fractured his skull.

Even now, face to face with the empty room, it feels surreal to leave it all behind. No more paper-thin walls, no clumsily bumping into each other in the cramped kitchenette, no more sneaking through the building’s hallway in the early mornings or late nights.

Suddenly every small inconvenience is filtered through the rose-coloured lens of sentimentality, like they’re something to be treasured. Maybe they are. The little imperfections that brought texture to the flavourful sweetness of everything good.

All three of you take a moment, keenly aware you’re saying goodbye to the space where you collided into them; collided, and then intertwined. There’s a lot here to be grateful for.

Wooyoung is the one to break the spell. He nods his head with a big sigh, like he's bracing himself. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, matching his sigh. “Just one more thing left to do here, right?”

San and Wooyoung divide the boxes between them; you are already holding a large flower bouquet. It’s time for your final goodbye in this building.

Together, you take the elevator down one floor, then walk over to the apartment placed directly underneath yours. You ring the doorbell, and it does not take long before Mrs Yoon opens the door.

“Oh? Oh! It’s you kids!” The crinkles in her face deepen into a wide smile, and she curiously eyes the boxes. “Today is the big day then, hm?”

San bows his head politely. “We’re officially moved out, yes,” he says, a tinge of red across his cheeks. “Um. Sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused.”

“Nonsense,” she scolds. “No trouble at all, I’m sad to see you go. It’ll be so quiet around here without you!”

The redness on San’s face intensifies but Wooyoung just giggles, immune to Mrs Yoon’s light teasing. “Still, we didn’t want to go without getting you a little something,” Wooyoung says, “a thank you for putting up with us!”

“Ahh, Wooyoungie, you shouldn’t have!” Mrs Yoon coos adoringly over him like he’s her favourite grandson, lovingly pinching his cheeks. She lets out a small gasp of surprise when you hand the flowers over to her. “These are for me? Really?”

“Really,” you say. “It’s the least we could do!”

The bouquet looks comically huge in her tiny arms, almost drowning her in camellias and hydrangeas; but Mrs Yoon just beams with delight, taking a deep whiff of the sweet aromas. Even with the flowers, she still manages to reach for your cheek, patting it in gratitude.

“Wishing you and your friends all the best in your new home, sweetie,” she says warmly. “Feel free to drop by if you’re ever back in the neighbourhood.”

“We will, Mrs Yoon,” you promise, a pleasant glow in your chest at the word ‘friends’. “Thank you for looking out for us.”

The three of you part ways with Mrs Yoon, regretfully declining an invitation to come inside for a cup of tea. Your new home waits for you.

The new apartment is not too far from the old place, just a short ride away. Wooyoung is driving the car that Yunho was gracious enough to lend you, and you’re next to him in the front seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh. San is behind you, leaned forward with his chin on the backrest while he sweetly hums along to some romantic pop-song on the radio.

You bask in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the window, smiling at San’s smooth voice while your hand rests on top of Wooyoung’s. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. Outside the car, your surroundings slowly grow less and less familiar, though you know that’ll come with time. You look forward to it.

Finally you reach the compex’s underground parking lot where Wooyoung neatly parks Yunho’s car. You unload the boxes, and find the elevators after a brief moment of disorientation.

You’re not on the top floor this time, but this building is taller so you’re still up higher than before. Finally you exit the elevator, and nostalgia is pushed back in favour of excitement as you walk over to your front door. One single door, for all three of you.

(Of course, you practically lived together already anyway, but it still feels different like this. More solid. Words and promises of long-term commitment transformed into tangible fact.)

You type in the freshly memorised code into the keypad, and the door opens.

The apartment is bigger and nicer than your old place; it’d be far too expensive for you alone, but that’s the practical benefit of splitting rent three ways. It’s still a mess, of course, unpacked boxes all over the place, but already you can see glimpses what it’s going to be, the home you’ll make out of this cluttered chaos.

Already there’s a small bustle of friends moving around the place, helping you to settle in. Even Hongjoong took time off, standing in the (significantly larger) kitchenette with a puzzled expression as he goes through one of the boxes.

You make a beeline towards him, and Hongjoong grins as you approach, making a show of groaning in annoyance when you lay a bear-hug on him.

“What kind of highbrow culinary types did you move in with? I don’t even know what half of these are,” he sighs, toying with a basic garlic press as he glances at the wide array of appliances strewn on the kitchen island. “Makes me feel like I’m not adulting right.”

“It’s alright, not all of us can be kitchen princesses. That’s Wooyoung’s purview,” you joke.

Hongjoong snorts. “Is that your way of saying you also don’t know what half of these are?”

“Pff, don’t lump me in with you. I know at least three quarters of them.”

“Wow, impressive! Let me know when you earn your first Michelin Star.”

He grins when you playfully elbow him in the side, and together you unpack the rest of the box, enjoying the bustle of activity around you.

A few people are walking back and forth, sorting out boxes and putting them in the right place. Seonghwa and Yeosang have taken up most of the floorspace to assemble a large bookcase, looking somewhat bamboozled by the instructions. San is setting out Byeol’s things already, even though she’ll stay at his sister’s as a guest until you’re all settled in.

He wrestles with putting her climbing tree back together when a sudden flash of light distracts him; Wooyoung has grabbed his camera. To do a little documenting of the event, he claims.

“Wooyoung-ssi,” Yeosang says pointedly, “aren’t you just avoiding having to do any real work?”

“Come on, it’s important to save some memories of today!” Wooyoung says enthusiastically, utterly undeterred by his oldest friend’s scepticism. Instead he snaps a quick shot of Yeosang instead, who instantly shields his face. This only escalates into Wooyoung trying to take a selfie with Yeosang, which escalates into him trying to land a smooch on Yeosang’s cheek.

You watch their shenanigans with a wide, bright smile, and Hongjoong watches you with a thoughtful expression in turn.

“So…” he says in a slow drawl. “What was that you once told me? That you got nothing ‘involved’ going on with these guys?”

Heat flares up on your face. “Shut up,” you mumble, embarrassed at the reminder of how deeply in denial you used to be. Let’s face it; San and Wooyoung had firmly pulled you into their orbit from the very start.

Hongjoong chuckles and pats your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you were right about the most important thing.”

You give him a confused look. “?”

His eyes soften, a crooked smile on his face. “That I didn’t have to worry about you.”

You swallow thickly, a sudden lump in your throat at his sincerity. “Yeah? Well don’t think that means you’re off the hook for our irregularly scheduled videocalls,” you joke awkwardly, prodding him in the side again. “It’s not like the guys replaced you or something. I still want my bestie too.”

“Good!” he chuckles. “Anyway, they couldn’t if they tried. I’m pretty irreplaceable.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laugh, whapping him on the shoulder.

You try to continue unpacking the kitchen supplies; but you soon get distracted when Yunho struggles to carry a gigantic potted plant, and you realise he’s about to set it down in the living area.

“Yunho wait, hang on! That goes outside!”

You abandon Hongjoong to guide Yunho out to the modestly sized balcony.

“Here, here,” you usher him to a corner, where the plant will provide some nice shade and privacy.

Yunho sighs in relief when he can set the heavy pot down, stretching his back with a low groan as he stands upright again. He looks around curiously, looking around the balcony. It’s not much, with just some old garden furniture that Wooyoung’s parents ‘donated’ to you, but the plant makes a good start to cosy it up properly.

“Huh. Hadn’t been out here yet,” he says, putting his hands on the metal railing to lean forward and take in the view. “It’s nice.”

Your eyes get momentarily distracted by how his long fingers curl around the handrail, but then you tear your gaze away and look out over the neighbourhood together. It’s mostly other apartment complexes, but there’s a big park with plenty of greenery and a pond nearby too, next to a busy kids’ playground.

“Yeah,” you agree with a wistful smile. “Really nice.”

You glance at Yunho again. All the initial awkwardness between you has faded by now; San, Wooyoung and him were eager to make up for lost time, so he’s been around quite a bit. You don’t mind. You like Yunho.

(Not just because he has distracting hands. He’s every bit as funny and dependable as your first impression led you to believe. It didn’t take long for you to grow just as fond of Yunho as the guys are.)

“And if you think about it, I got you to thank for it all!” you joke, grinning at Yunho. “Really, if you hadn’t played cupid, I wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Yunho blinks in confusion. “Cupid?”

“Yeah? You set San and Wooyoung up, right? San told me you played matchmaker.”

“……Huh. That is what San thinks I was doing?” He lets out an awkward, breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“You weren’t?” You frown at Yunho. “But you introduced them, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but— Never mind,” he says, his ears going red. “It’s not important.”

You give him a stubborn look. “Um. No. No, you can’t leave me hanging there. What’s not important?”

Yunho sees the look in your eyes, and after a long moment he gives a slow nod and straightens up. He glances at the open balcony door, but nobody inside is paying you any particular mind.

He leans forward, conspiratorially, dropping his voice low. The secrecy is causing your heart to bump faster in your chest; what the hell happened?

“Okay so, uh. No, I didn’t set them up,” Yunho says. “Sure, I’m really happy that it worked out so well for them, but… no, I just meant to test the waters for a bit, to see if things clicked between us, and then… I could see if they were interest in doing… other stuff together.”

“Stuff?” you ask — but the redness of Yunho’s ears deepens, and a lightbulb turns on in your head. “Wait,” you hiss, lowering your own voice as you lean even closer to him. “You introduced them to have a threesome? And they started dating instead??”

“Basically, yeah!” he chuckles awkwardly. “And really, it’s no big deal, I’m happy to see my friends happy. I saw the way they hit it off, figured I’d give them some space to figure things out. Thought I could always pitch the idea later — well, until Wooyoung told me San wanted to be monogamous.”

“Oh god,” you say, growing more and more aghast as your brain works overtime, linking up all the dots Yunho is throwing at you. “And then San asked you for advice about me.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit it — that one stung!” he laughs, about five percent pained. The last lingering hints of a grudge still holding on.

“I bet it did, fuck I’m so sorry—”

“Not your fault,” Yunho says, patting your shoulder with a reassuring smile.

You puff out a flustered burst of air, and shake off your embarrassment. Yeah, he’s right. This isn’t your fault. “…Is it weird that I’m kind of offended on your behalf?” you say with an awkward grin (god this is all so awkward). “Like, I know San and Wooyoung can be a bit oblivious, especially when they get stuck in each other’s little lovestruck tunnel vision, but seriously? They never realised??”

“Eh,” Yunho shrugs. “It’s on me too, I misjudged. Clearly shouldn’t have taken the subtle approach.”

You snort. “Okay yeah, maybe it’s a little on you too. The subtle approach? For those two?”

“Hey! Whatcha talking about?” San says out of nowhere, poking his head around the doorway like a devil who has belatedly realised someone spoke of him. “Thought I heard my name!”

You freeze instantly and fumble for an answer. “Uuhhhhhhh…”

Wooyoung’s head pokes out from behind San’s broad shoulders. “Hm? Are you guys gossiping about us?”

“Umm…………”

But Yunho just lets out a dry chuckle, unfazed by the interruption. “Yeah, actually,” he says with an easygoing smile. “I was just telling her that I never meant to play matchmaker for you two.”

“You weren’t?” San asks in surprise. “I thought…”

“I know,” Yunho interrupts him, not unkindly. “But no, I was trying to set us for a threesome.”

A deep, deep silence falls that strikes even Wooyoung.

He’s just staring at Yunho wide-eyed, the gears in his head ground to a complete halt. San has gone full crimson in the cheeks, putting Yunho’s faintly red ears to shame.

“What?” Yunho laughs when he sees your surprised face. “You said it yourself; no room for subtlety with these two. It was bound to come out sometime anyway. No time like the present.”

“You know what? Fair,” you say, relaxing back into a laugh of your own.

“W-wait, you what??” San finally stammers out.

Yunho casually leans his side against the balcony railing, shrugging at San. “Is it really that big a surprise, coming from me?”

Wooyoung’s shock has slowly morphed into a thoughtful expression as the gears in his head come back into motion. Keen interest shines in his eyes as he looks back-and-forth from San’s flustered blush to you and Yunho, grinning at each other.

“So uh,” Wooyoung says, mischief creeping into the curve of his crooked smile, “…is having sex together still on the table?”

final notes: yes, i am planning to do a one-shot sequel lol. you are getting that yunwoosan foursome smut scene <3 originally it was part of the epilogue, but i decided it works better as its own, separate thing

but this still is the end of the main series, the story of Woosan & reader coming together, and i am a big ball of emotion over it asdkjdsajk. thankyou for reading my fic, and for all the incredibly kind words i’ve received; this was a very special, personal project to me, and i hope it gave you some good times ♡

[s-4pphics]

soul ties. part I (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: a product of brokenness. WORD COUNT: 13.4K WARNINGS: ellie’s a painter/art dealer, heavy angst[oc is suicidal and has dissociative episodes + abusive parents/SEXUAL ABUSE(nothing explicitly written but aluded to) + patriarchy/men being predatory/traditionalist households + mentions of cheating + alcoholism + disordered eating/self-harm(cuticle picking) + thoughts of murder + mommy issues/daddy issues + parental grief + homophobia + more patriarchy but with dykes + unhealthy relationships with sex(coping) + brief mention of masturbation + sexual tension + making out + fondling + slapping + DUBCON + just matching freaks to avoid trauma], miscommunication, just 2 socially inept crash outs lol  A/N: hellloo lol. fixed plot bc im venting… s been a very rough few months. i was convinced i lost my very acute skill so uhhh consider this a test. uhh what else… idk when i’ll be back bc im now a piano player #NEWFOUNDESCAPISM LOL.  suggestion: this technically could b read alone but if u care ab context read this first. then this. that is all LOL byeee :p hi taggies we back: @dyk3ang3l @acidblum @mellifluousgirll @elliesatchel @callmewhenyoukan @natgf123 @elliesstella @spaceforescape @floridaopal @lonelyfooryouonly @ellies-converse @amiorca @darkerstarsstuff

fuck the bitch that made this game.  dont buy his shit.

aid links from my inbox: one, two, three, four

What to do, what to do… 

Ellie is a wreck. An agitated, craving, mess. 

What to do… Love your wife, fuck the daylights out of your wife, kill your wife before she kills you… What to do… 

It can’t be that hard to hide a body. Is it still murder if it’s self-defense? Ellie’s sure the next bath you run for her will either be filled with bleach or result in her being forced underwater until she’s lifeless. There are lots of people willing to get their hands dirty for her if that’s the case. Not a trace of you or her would be left and she’d finally be able to escape with only the clothes on her back. The weightlessness in her pockets wouldn’t move her in any way. Nothing compares to freedom. What a suffocating life she lives. 

The guest room mattress becomes less and less plush every time she lays in it. The sheets are itchier and cold and she’s stuck pondering with each swirl of the ceiling fan, wet hair wrapped in a bath towel; restless, fidgety, and honey-like ache in the pit of her stomach, mind warped with lecherous thoughts of her wife that she despises but not as much, her supposed life partner and fuck, how did you two get here…

Stuck with a tension so thick it permeates your home; if you’d even call it that. You’re both successfully trapped between your own walls; Elegant windows take the place of rusted, metal bars that confine you from the life you both dreamed of before all this; one soft and doting and colorful, one where your light isn’t dulled. 

Why does she feel so guilty, suddenly? You’re not lovers, and neither in love, so why does her chest ache with every glance she steals when you’re unassuming? The pain that’s always etched on your face, and if not, in your eyes — fills her with regret. She would abandon you for days — weeks at a time, not at all concerned about what you might be experiencing to rid herself of shame. And to think that you were merely a younger version of your mother; villainous and cruel and greedy when… when you’ve barely spoken. She finds herself, unfortunately, reminiscing on how bushy-tailed you were after marriage. So eager to please and prick her mind and annoyingly mechanical. You cooked at the same time everyday. Cleaned, did both your laundry, sunbathed, swam in your pool. She hated how rehearsed your lifestyle was; it reminds her of the worst parts of her childhood. When her mother was alive. So, Ellie chose to step out on you the second you took her last name; ravaged other women, released her anger and desires on strangers when she should’ve had you beneath, above, on your knees for her. Where has that craving to harm you gone? For months, she’s ached for your suffering to mirror hers, but now… What’s happening to her? What’s happened to you? 

Ellie believes you’ve lost it, and somehow she’s found herself chasing that unforeseen part of you; unfiltered and angry and wild. This manufactured doll your mother molded you into is shattering at the core and Ellie craves to see more of you. Guilty. As hurt as you were, that night was the most alive she’s seen you be. You shouted and cried and tore at the seams, desperate for someone to hear you, and Ellie did. Loud and clear. She saw you for what you are. Mangled from the inside out, entirely hopeless. Just like she is. An unspeakable link that binds the two of you.

Soul ties. 

She shook and pleaded for you to enter the bathroom and see her battered against the shower wall with a hand between her legs and your name dripping from her lips, but the knob never twisted. Her orgasms were unsatisfactory, and she accepted with irritation that it was because you weren’t there. She ignored the throbbing between her legs and vacated the bathroom. Ellie, with legs that trembled, found you wrapped in satin and snoring. They sounded like whistles. 

She stood for a while, just watching you twitch and wiggle in your rest, eyes glazing to the space beside you that could easily fit another body. The sheets are already warm from where you lay. The two of you have never slept in the same room, let alone bed. 

Her feet carried her out. Silently left the room with an unfamiliar ache in her chest. 

Her mind made an enemy out of you because that’s what you are. When she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, you appeared and destroyed everything in her path. Left her world in ruins. Disrupted her pattern. You’re an enemy and deserve to hurt. 

Aren’t you? Don’t you? 

Everything is unclear. Ellie hasn’t been this conflicted since she was 15. She wishes she could sleep forever so she wouldn’t be forced to think. 

If she had any sense left, she would paint her agony away. In the past, her mind would shut down with every splash of color on a canvas to compensate for the darkness that conjured in her mind. She refrains from that now, though. She’s horny; scared she’ll start imagining what your pussy looks like and sketch it all over the bedroom walls. That’d be too much; a boundary that will remain untouched.

But her brain knows she’s not a good person; she can’t help but imagine how gorgeous your pussy is because you are and she’s known that since the beginning, the second she saw you drenched in white. Drenched in sorrow. 

She clutches your wedding band in her palm. 

What to do… what to do… 

Birds are artists. 

They never fail to sing every morning; sonnets aimed to awaken life as sun rays spill from behind mountains. You've always appreciated their tunes whenever you were pulled from a hollow rest, no longer surrounded by darkness. 

Maybe it was the routine your mother set for you from young. You were 9 when she first coddled your drowsiness as she shook you awake at five in the morning; the early bird catches the worm, a saying you naively assumed as preparation for the day, for your homeschooling. An energy booster, possibly. Motivation. Something to get you through. 

How stupid could a child be? 

You were 12 when your cycle started. You were 12 when you realized that your mother never envisioned actual birds and worms like you had. Your mother has games she plays and she cheats. She’s had you on a leash for the past decade; the scars around your neck are forever a reminder of the hell you’ve endured under her hand. It took no effort on her part to be uncaring of your suffering, and somehow that aches more than anything else. 

Even more than the existence of him. A demon walking.

Animals aren’t like your family. Birds aren’t. The minute specks of sunlight begin, their job starts, and they complete it happily without compensation or praise or the slightest acknowledgment. Everyone wakes, and they fly to anywhere to wake the next. 

But wealth is dirty. Wealth makes people dirty. They swindler and lie and experience life with a vacancy that’ll never be filled with anything but greed. Your mother trained you for years to accept whatever was given as long as you were taken care of. Play your part, she’d say. It took you years to learn her strategy — and unlearn yourself — but you’re here. Married. Successful by association. Rich. Unhappy. Unloved. 

Birds guided you. They never shy from their duty, and you hadn’t either… 

But you’re human. You crack and cry and scream and you hate. You despise so strongly that you lash out and everything in your path becomes victimized. Sometimes it gets to a point where you crave blood. You want to drown in it, drink it until you’re sick. Your soul is dead. Everyones’ should die with yours. 

You don’t know who should go first. Your mother, your stepfather, or your wife. 

You want to swallow Ellie whole—

“Good morning.” 

You’ve never seen Ellie not dolled up. She clearly just awakened with her wrinkled MILFS ONLY shirt and sporadic hair. Timidity doesn’t suit Ellie. You're so used to seeing her exasperated. Her weary eyes don’t meet yours. You should tell her your plans to adopt a hummingbird. Or maybe you shouldn’t. She might laugh at you.

“Hello.” 

“… Hi.” She seems like she wants to say something. You sip your coffee. 

“My dad called.” 

You hum around the rim of your mug. “Woke you up?” 

She merely shrugs. “I uh… did anyone tell you about tomorrow?” 

“Of course not.” 

You don’t expect Ellie to flinch at your tone. You weren’t that sharp, were you?

You might’ve been because she slows her speech. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “Dad’s hosting a dinner. Corporate bullshit but we have to go.” 

“Why.” 

She squints at you. “Why what.” 

“Why do we have to go.” Your mug lands on the table harder than expected. 

“To make mommy and daddy look good.” She sneers while approaching her seat, “Did you forget?” 

“I just thought they wouldn’t want two dykes contaminating their spaces anymore.” 

Ellie snorts. “They don’t. Companies do. Gets their cocks hard. Two gay daughters, how progressive!” She mocks and plops on the chair directly across from you, wiping at her eyes. Your throat dries when you notice her wedding band. She hardly ever wears it. You don’t know where you left yours. Since when does she care to wear it? “They’ll do anything they can to get on their good side. They’re… merging organizations or whatever the fuck he said.” 

She swallows. Shrugs uncaringly, “We going?” Her eyes watch your hands squeeze your mug. 

“Are we.” 

She regards your cup with caution. Does she think you’ll throw it? The thought nearly makes you laugh. 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Okay.” 

Your wife finally looks up and stands, nose upturned, “Okay? That’s all you got?” 

“Yes. Okay.” You sip silently. Your foot taps on hardwood. 

“Excited to see your family? You like ‘em now?” 

Excited is laughable. 

“No, I don’t.” 

The sudden calamity from your wife confuses you. She tugs at the strands that flop on her head in agitation. They look soft as they bounce with her pacing. You’ll never feel them. Or you might later. Who knows with her. Who knows with you. 

Ellie’s still talking. Her arms flail like she’s annoyed by you. You’re not sure why. You’re following. You’re allowing her to guide. To control. That’s the entire point of this. That’s why you’re going to dinner with her. She told you to go and that’s it. 

Play your part play your part play yo—

You don’t remember much of anything; the past, the present, but you recall what Ellie sounds like when she’s angry, whether it’s at you, her father, the woman her father is fucking or married to or whatever. If you’d listen, you’ll discover what ticked her off, but your ears ring too loud. Much louder than her screaming. 

You sip your coffee silently. Ellie leaves you at the dining table with a slam of a door. 

You think it’s the first floor’s guest room. 

The sun sets. Ellie can’t remember the last time she’s been home this long. 

She hates the weekends. The gallery is never open and she can’t drown herself in deals. She hates being home when you are. Why the fuck are you always here? You don’t have friends, a job, a life outside of this goddamn house? There’s a sinking in her stomach at the thought of your isolation, but she ignores it. Tries to ignore it.

… Can’t really ignore it. How pestering. You’re a pest. 

She knows nothing about you, only bits of your past expressed through photographs at your mother’s or outbursts in your bedroom. Your stepfather is fucking creepy and your mother’s glare is killer, but that’s about it. Still, she doesn’t think she can hate your parents more than you. 

You’re so fucking weird. Just like them. Unforgiving and unchaste one day then apathetic the next. How the fuck can one communicate with a person like that? 

That feeling in her chest again. Sharp and annoying. Try try try, it says. Begs from her. 

Try and do what? Do fucking what—

It took Ellie 3 seconds to unlock the guest room door and fly down the stairs when a crash rings from the first floor. Glass clatters and you sound in pain and oh fuck did someone break in

There’s red all over the kitchen floor but it’s not blood it’s red wine. Red wine red wine it’s not blood— 

You’re on the kitchen floor surrounded by green shards and dressed so pretty. Hair coiled and free and your face is done up and you’re wearing flowers. There’s flowers all over and your skin shines and why do you have heels on like a play doll?

Ellie palms at the scattered racing of her heart. Everything’s fine, her brain blares, She tripped, that’s it. Clears her throat. Rustles her hair to appear normal. 

She’s not dead. 

“… You good?” 

An unsteady hand rises to throw her a thumbs up. Your body wobbles when you attempt to stand. Ellie ushers to the counter to slide on her slippers, tells you to stop when your palm nearly plants on a shard. 

“Move back before you hurt yourself.” Ellie takes a quick lap around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. Finds you just as quickly so you don’t accidentally slice an artery. 

Your lashes flutter and her heart follows suit, taking in the mess. “I think I fucked up.” You croak.

Hearing you curse is always odd. She huffs, “It’s fine. Can you stand?” 

Your head shakes and your bottom lip juts. “My… my shoes…”

You slowly plop onto your bottom and rest your back against the dishwasher. You struggle to grip your buckles to pull and slide the strap and Ellie remembers why she hates heels. She sweeps the glass away from you and realizes she should’ve mopped first because the bristles are soaked and streaking the clean parts of the crystal porcelain. When was the last time she cleaned? The maids always do. Sometimes you help. 

You look stunned when Ellie moves to squat in front of you. Jumps back when she adjusts your ankle. 

Her palms hang in surrender, “I’m gonna help you. Relax. Do your knees hurt?” 

You landed right on them. They should. You don’t disarm, eyes guarded and body locked tight, but you shrug. It’s good enough for Ellie. 

She unravels the buckles around both your ankles and tosses them next to you and you just watch. Ellie’s glances are quick and flitting, but she follows the traces of her hands; the sharp inhales whenever her fingers brush against the skin of your leg. You’re not as close as you were last night but she can smell you. Her chest is throbbing. You look like you’re about to cry but you’re drunk. It’s meaningless. Drunk people cry. 

Try try try try 

“Can you stand now?” She croaks. 

It takes a second for you to register her inquiry, but you shrug, and she sighs. When Ellie stands, both her hands extend out to you, but you don’t accept them; She gets jittery under your scrutinizing gaze after nearly a minute passes. Her throat dries and her face burns when you brush her hands away; standing on your own is an unstable journey, but you do, back against the counter to stabilize yourself. You look ill. Your brain must be jumbled. 

“Can you get upstairs on your own?” 

“You talk a fucking lot. Shut up.”  

The corner of Ellie’s mouth rises, but she says nothing. Gives you space to move. 

You take one step, then two more, then your eyes shut and your throat jumps. Uh oh.

“Oh shit, come—“

Ellie guides you to the garbage can near the front of the counter, away from the glass, and you dry heave. Liquid splatters inside the can and Ellie hates this so fucking much. The sounds are enough to make her own stomach lurch. It’s been a while since she’s been around someone this drunk. 

But she holds your waist so you don’t faceplant into your own vomit. 

“Get it out,” She hums with a grimace, “You’re fine.” An I gotcha almost rolls off her tongue but she catches it. She glides a comforting hand over your curved spine because you’re drunk and you won’t remember such gestures in the morning. She prefers it that way. 

You’re not gagging anymore so Ellie removes herself from you. Until she hears a whimper. And a sob so quiet she assumes you’re trying to mask it. Drunk people cry; she’s seen it countless times. Why does that seering feeling spark in her chest for what felt like the billionth time today? Fucking try, for fucks sake! 

“Let’s… let’s get you—“

“I wish I was dead.” 

Your prayer is hollow. Not even sad despite your tears. So, so empty. Ellie’s seen this before, experienced that nothingness countless times, but despite it all, she never learned how to console. Hell, she barely knows how to self-soothe without falling victim to her dark temptations. Even her paint brushes can’t eliminate the constant ache she feels. She just watches the tremble of your shoulders from behind. 

“I really don’t wanna go tomorrow.” You whisper. 

Ellie sighs. There’s no other choice. You know the stakes; follow your families’ commands or lose everything at the drop of a hat. They’ll leave you both on the streets to rot with no remorse if they please, replace the two of you with two normal children. Het children that won’t deviate. You’re both on thin ice as it is. Mainly because of Ellie. She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble.

“I…” 

I’ll be with you the entire time. I don’t like being around those cunts either. 

“It’ll go by quickly.” She settles. 

“I hate when p-people look at me.” 

“Me too.” 

“I wish my family loved me.” 

Ellie’s softer now. Only slightly. 

“Yeah…” 

A tug in her ribcage. Try. Please, try. 

“Me too.” 

The pounding beneath your skull wakes you quicker than the birds. You shove your face in the pillow you rest on. 

The devil tells you to check the time so you do. The bedside clock says noon, meaning a new day, meaning it’s Saturday meaning you’ll die. Maybe not physically but mentally. You’re so drained and you’ve barely opened your eyes; the idea of leaving bed alone is enough to exhaust you. Your wrists and legs ache like fucking hell on top of that. 

You make fists with both hands. Repeatedly clench and unclench. The weight is different on your wedding finger. Heavier. You haven’t seen your ring since yesterday… or a few days ago — you’re not really sure. You must’ve found it in your drunken stupor. Just when you hoped to never see it again. 

The universe will always remind you who you are. 

If you stand you’ll vomit but your phone is ringing from the drawer you stuck it in weeks ago. How is it not dead? You know your mom’s calling. You hate that she is… 

The ringing stops and you thank the heavens. 

You curse them when it starts up again. 

The drawer slides open with reluctance. The ringing sounds 20 times louder. You retrieve your device blindly and your throat snaps shut when you speak. 

“You rang.” 

“Did your… partner tell you about tonight.” 

Hard and distant. That’s how she speaks to you. Your heart cracks. 

Your mom already knows Ellie did. She loves to bother you with nonsense. You don’t think she’s ever called Ellie your wife. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re attending.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that all.” 

“Your gown was delivered here. Come by well before 8 to get ready.” 

And she hangs up. Just like that. Always. She’s never told you to have a nice day, or to rest well, or that she loves you, at the minimum. And if she had, you don’t remember any of it. There’s a lot you force yourself to forget. 

The selfish part of you disregards the burning of your eyes to stare at your phone — low battery and… no messages. No texts, no phone calls from anyone except your mother, no likes on Instagram because your mom scared you into not making one when you were a teenager. No one cares about you. People care about your wife, though. Maybe because she’s talented; she’s certainly not nice. 

Your darkest memories are always the most prominent. 

Your phone drops to the floor and you don’t reach for it. You just pray to sleep again. 

Tonight will be interesting. 

The ride to your mother’s is silent. 

At least she chauffeured the two of you. Ellie can be scary when she drives. You’ve never been in a car with her, but she did ram into a lamppost on the sidewalk a few nights after your wedding. 

Your wife is already dressed despite the party being hours away. She sits right next to you in all black; in a trenchie and turtleneck and slacks and loafers with fur and gold jewelry. When she descended the staircase, you gawked when she wasn’t looking. So simple, but she had your heart fluttering when she’d asked, ready? You’re still in your sleep shorts, teeth unbrushed and starving. When was the last time you ate? 

What an embarrassment — you’re an embarrassment, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. If only newly wed you could see herself now. 

You swallow a lump when you feel eyes on the side of your face, but yours remain glued out the window. The closer you get to your mom’s, the faster your mind starts to shut down. Everything passes you by in a blur. 

By the time the gates with your father’s initials come into view, your thoughts go silent, only filled with the calming images of nature and the song of birds. Your only escapism. 

The only way you’ll make it out of here in one piece. 

Ellie! Darling! We’ve missed you! Give us a smile! 

Ellie! Ellie, look this way! 

Ellie, where’s your wife? 

She wishes she knew. You’d barely made it into your mother’s home before getting swept down the hall by 4 other people who poked at your appearance. Ellie didn’t even get to give your mom the passive, spine-chilling hi, mom like old times before another SUV came to whisk her away from that hell hole. Her dad always knows somehow. 

She hates being at your mom’s; it’s stifling and quiet and the aura is dark. Like mother, like house or whatever the fuck. 

She scowls when the bombarding questions redirect to you. Some concerning, some sarcastic, some raunchy — those get under her skin in particular — and she can’t stop fiddling with her ring. Her chest tugs tugs tugs. 

Trouble in paradise? 

You were caught leaving the bar with another woman on your arm a few weeks ago! How’d your wife react to that? 

She doesn’t know. She’s never home to see you break. 

Guilt ate at her when the door of your mother’s mansion shut behind her, but she disregards it now. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to their guised jabs; You get enough of that from everyone in your life. She hopes you’ll go through the back entrance when you arrive. 

When will you get here? 

Ellie’s never made an event appearance without you. You’d pose and fidget and display awkward affection so that they’d buy your love a little bit, then enter the gathering as two separate hearts, riddled and torn, never to cross paths until the bustle is over and it’s time to go home. 

Finally, security moves and barricades her until she gets past the 20 foot gate and treads the steps. The flashing cameras are still blinding from behind. 

The tended garden is the first thing she notices. Wide and green. The daisy and rose bushes are no longer tangled with weeds and surrounded by dead grass and gnats. How could Joelene not see that and be vengeful? Ellie and her dad may not be close anymore, but she knows him; maybe even more than he knows himself. He still misses her mom after everything, and chooses to express it through her favorite hiding spot. Keeps the flowers that bloom and trims the ones that don’t so she lives through them. Ellie hardly remembers a time when her mother wasn’t covered in dirty overalls and sunburnt. 

She manages to hold it together when the large double doors open. The violins suddenly sound like nails on wood. 

Voices fade into nothing. People are outside your car. Light hurts so terribly. 

One second you’re here, the next you’re not. Your mom and her husband sit across with twined arms and the lace from your dress is itchy and you wanna disappear. When you blink, you’re gone. You only exist on this plain if your eyes are open. 

Something hard and leather brushes against your ankle, scratches against your stockings, slow and snake-like. You know what it is, who it is, and you freeze, eyes locked onto your mother. No matter your hopelessness, there’s still a young girl in you that wishes your mother would defend, act on anger, be disgusted at minimum. At least when his crimes are done in secret you can’t blame her for not knowing. 

But you’re here and she’s here and he’s here. A shared secret between the three of you. 

His shoe doesn’t halt on your leg. Your mother never looks at you. 

Birds and songs and sonnets. You’re a bird and you can fly against the strongest winds. Music is your guide and you follow the clouds. 

Your fingers twist together in your lap and the black interior of the car glows red. If only… he’s not the only one with sick intentions. If only. 

You’re flying you’re flying you can fly and there’s someone who’ll love you gently. They’re out there somewhere and you’ll find them and they’ll find you like every trial was worth it. 

Patience. That’s all you need. Just be patient. 

The rest of the car ride is unbeknownst to you. Next thing you know, your door is being opened and two men await your entry at the glass door. 

Champagne is good. Tequila is better. The two mixed is hell. 

Ellie’s throat burns and her mind swirls but she plays it off well enough. Mingles with pensive, old bastards while their daughters’ gawk at her with bright-eyed curiosity and you haven’t arrived yet. 

She lost her dad somewhere in the night. He greeted her briefly upon her arrival, pointed out the important men of the night, called your mother a selfish bitch, then walked off with his mistress by his side. Ellie’s eyes keep meeting the back door from the living room. 

Where are you? 

“Ellie!”

She downs the rest of her chute and guards her agitation with a grin. Shakes the hand of… 

What the fuck was this dude’s name? 

“It’s an honor! Your art is incredible! I’ve truly—“

—Fucking Ronald? Reginald? … Ronald might be it—

“—Your father, ya know, he’s an interesting man, incredibly smart! I’ve never—“

Her dad gave her a run-down of the … merging or whatever the fuck but what the fuck did he say and holy shit, is she sweating? The man’s handshake threw her off, frankly; almost snapped her wrist in two. Fucking old piece of shit. More business jargon that she pretends to understand and care so much about because it’s a show after all. All cheers and stiff laughter. 

“And your wife! By God, what a looker!”

Her jaw clenches. Where are you where are you where are you

“What we’d give, I mean, c’mon!” Men that pass laugh with him and it’s taking everything in Ellie not to smash this glass over his head. One quick swing and it’s over. For him and her. How promising.

“Where is she anyway? You two didn’t come together?” 

“She um, she’s with her parents right now. They’ll be here.” She jerks her chin toward the entrance. 

“How lucky are you. Treat her like the star she is!” It looks like the shithead’s leaving, but not before taunting, “Holler when she arrives, will ya?” 

And just like that, he leaves Ellie to simmer. Three deep breaths. A man in a suit and tray filled with champagne waltzes passed her and she snags two glasses. Downs the first in one thick swallow before another clinks with hers. 

Why does everyone keep fucking with her? 

“Cheers.” 

Ellie doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She scoffs. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” 

Jolene stands next to her, shoulders slouched and dress glowing under the chandelier. She arches a dark brow, “Who wouldn’t? Men are the most entertaining when they’re on ego trips.” 

“Same goes for my dad?” She snips, and Jolene shocks her with a smile. 

“Meh.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“I just told you—“

“No, where are you here.” Ellie gestures between them, “Why’re you talking to me right now?” 

Jolene downs her drink and shrugs, “My attempts at bonding. On a scale of 1 to 10, how shit were they?” 

“900. Leave me the fuck alone.” Before Ellie can run, a hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“I know—“ The woman rushes, “I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not—“

Ellie almost corrects her out of pettiness; They don’t have a relationship, period. There’s no best or worst. But her sudden desperation halts her. 

“—the enemy. There’s not a lot for us in these spaces. I just wanted to try and establish something. Anything. Between us. It can be so lonely without a real support system.”

Ellie hates the direction her heart turns her mind. Suddenly you’re there and you’re crying and clawing at your chest and Ellie just watches like she did that night. So powerless. So empty. 

But Jolene isn’t you. She chooses to be selfish. Yours comes from self preservation and nothing else. 

Ellie snatches her hand back and throws her the deadliest stare. “You don’t know shit about being lonely. You’re the one who gave up everything you had to fuck my dad when my mom wasn’t looking. How much did you care about her loneliness then? Hm?” 

The timing was perfect, really. 15 year old Ellie watched her parents get into one of their most abhorrent arguments; her dad leaves first, then her mom, then only one of them returns, and it was not her mother. Imagine her shock when a news reporter confirmed that her mother’s body had been thrown in a garbage bag and left in a dumpster to rot. It only took two weeks to mourn before he was marrying another woman. 

Nobody cared that her mother had been shot or stabbed or gutted. She was just a woman married to a successor who raised a deviant child. 

Ellie forces herself to not point fingers, though. Anyone could’ve killed her, she always reminds herself; to keep her from going fucking crazy. But timing… 

How telling is time. 

Jolene’s eyes widen and her grip weakens. Ellie takes that as an escape before she has a breakdown in front of the caviar platter. 

She barely takes a step before she collides with a body. 

Funny. 

She bumped right into a star that shines a royal blue. The woman of the hour, for sure. In her mind, at least.

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“You’re fine. All me.” Ellie says lowly as she takes you in, and you do the same to her. Shy, but yearnful glances. Glossed lips tightly sealed and brows tense. Your dress shimmers and holds you snug and she feels guilty for staring at your curvature. She’s suddenly hyper aware of the vultures that disguise themselves as men and she has an instinct to hide you. And your ring is on. The thumping in her chest picks up. Only slightly. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Jolene says shakily from beside Ellie and she almost loses it before a grating voice interrupts. 

“You, as well. And your husband is…?” 

Your mother. And her lap dog wagging his tail beside her. What a bitch. Both of them. 

Your stepdad says something and you inhale sharply and no one notices but Ellie. She studies you carefully. You look like a frightened cat with a frilled tail as he speaks. Claws out, not because you’re ferocious, but so, so scared. She glances at your stepdad; greasy smile while he ogles at Jolene; what a nasty son of a bitch. 

Ellie whispers to you, “Is everything o—“

“Joel! Man of the hour! How are—“

“Where’s the bathroom again?” You whisper back. 

Ellie takes your hand in hers and flees while the family’s distracted, leading you down a hallway that’s way too long with lights too bright. 

She gestures towards the door. “It’s… This is it. One of ‘em at least.” 

“… Thank—“

“What’s the matt—“ 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Did that piece of shit say something to you?” Ellie glances to make sure no listeners are hiding in the shadows. 

The widest smile grows on your face as you laugh, hearty and loud with your head thrown back. Ellie stares in confusion. 

“Oh, Ellie! You’re so silly,” She jumps when your hands hold her cheeks. You’re fucking freezing and they tremble. Your eyes are a dark void. 

You lean in closer, lips right against her mouth and they part slightly on instinct. She’s concerned and should ask more questions, but your skin is so soft. Are you gonna kiss her, she wonders? You haven’t kissed since your wedding; your breath hits her mouth and her tongue swipes her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she aches to touch you—

“Save a seat for me, love? Please?” 

It happens so fast; the frost of you is gone and the bathroom door slams shut while an elderly woman fondly whispers, “young love,” as she walks by. Ellie only nods with a rigid curl of her lips, throat cinched too tightly to swallow. 

You puzzle her. She’s tempted to wait for you, to ensure you make it back safely without bombardment, but then 

“Ellie! Why didn’t you call me! Your wife made it safely, I see!” 

A hand claps on her shoulder while men laugh from the side, boisterous and predatory and so wide their fangs show. Ellie’s sick and a war rages within her. 

“Your father sent me to find you! It’s time to eat!” 

She sends them a weak smile. She rushes away from the door and they follow close behind. 

Anything to lure them away from you. 

Attendees have dwindled, only Ellie and her family and you and yours and some CEOs that are really getting on her fucking nerves. But you’ve eaten, thank God. She can breathe a little. 

Only a bit, though. You’re putting on a fucking show and it’s scaring her; Even her dad seems impressed. Charmed by you. Clinking glasses and telling jokes and smiling. Did your mom hold you at gunpoint before you got here? How much did you drink? Not much from what she’s seen. 

That one fucker from earlier — Raymon or Robert or whatever the fuck — keeps leaning over the table whenever you do. Peeping at your chest, probably. She wishes these steak knives were sharper. 

“So! Our young couple,” says Old Bitch with a Combover and wiggly brows, “When are we getting those heirs?” 

You cough uncomfortably and Ellie squirms in her seat. Your mother scoffs, “Two women can’t have children—“

Said Old Bitch shrugs, “Well, not biologically—“

“My point exactl—“

Ellie’s father cuts in with a tense grin, “When they get to that point, we’ll discuss their options. There’s… many nowadays, evidently.” 

Neither you or Ellie interrupt, but she notices you’ve moved closer to her. Inched your seat a bit. You squeeze your hands so hard in your lap she’s scared they’ll shatter where they lay. You’re not smiling anymore. 

Her dad and your mom are subtle with their blows at one another; snarky with brutal stares, unremarkable to strangers, but you and Ellie know. When dinner ends, you’ll both be caught in their crossfire. 

“There’s no shame in me wanting my grandchildren to be by blood. I shouldn’t have to go shopping for an heir.” Your mother hisses. 

“Sh—“ Joel huffs with disgust, “Shopping for an heir? That’s what you think adoption entails?” 

“Does it not?” Your mother’s tone rises. 

Reggie, Rory, or Russell interjects with a dismissive wave, “C’mon, you too! No need to argue. I’m sure girls like them will be fine with obtaining children! It might be more… complicated, I will say!” 

“May I be excused?” You croak, and Ellie straightens. 

“Why? So you can wallow about dying childless?” 

The table silences. No laughter, no wittiness. Completely still. That wasn’t from your mother. Ellie doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard your stepdad speak so clearly. Her blood thrashes beneath her skin so harshly that her tongue unties. There’s a darkness in her that whispers, “grab that steak knife”. Brutalize him. Just for a second. Do it for you. 

Do it for her. 

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits. 

Your neck almost cracks with the speed you turn to her, eyes wide as the moon. Her father condemns, “Watch your mouth, Ellie.” 

“Or what, you old fuck?” 

Her heart rattles noisily in her chest; her hands shake where they rest on her lap, her cells trembling with the instinct to harm. The gaze of her father is distant and filled with inadequacy for his only line. Nothing unbeknownst to her, but there's a flash of something so deep, so forbidden for them, but she sees it every time they hold contact. Beneath all the loathing and lesions left to drain, there’s longing. An inkling of gratitude that she knows he’ll suppress until he’s buried underground. He’ll never look the same to her, and she imagines the same for him. Too many bridges burned. 

“How’d I do?” Ellie rasps to him, “Hm? The night went how you hoped?” 

Look at what you’ve done, she hopes her eyes say. Tears welt against her will. When was the last time she cried in front of him? She hadn’t even given him that honor at her mother’s funeral years ago. 

Ellie’s stiff stature nearly cracks at the light brush atop her knee. A wind catches in her throat when a pinky turns into three fingers, then five, then a palm that squeezes comfortingly, desperately. Maybe partly to keep her glued to this chair. She gulps the dryness down and a flame lights in the pit of her stomach. 

Her glance to you is brief, barely out of the corner of her eye, but you’re watching her. Intensely, and it scorches her cheeks, all the way down to her neck. Scared cat. Scared cat. Shrilled and cold and frightened to hell and she despises it. 

What changed? She’ll always wonder. That look hardly shook her a week ago and now it makes her teeth ache. 

Suddenly, it’s too warm here. 

“Get up,” Ellie rushes you. Grabs your arm and yanks you from your seat, “Not dealing with this fuckin’ bullshit tonight. We’re leaving.” 

There’s suddenly shouting from all directions of the dinner table with each step Ellie takes for you, but you never drop her hand. She clenches it tighter when you finally reach the back door. 

The door slams shut on the wreckage behind you. 

Consider plan MERGE a bust. 

Ellie’s a thief. You think. Maybe. 

Is it stealing if the car belongs to a family member? Where she snagged the keys from? You don’t remember. One second you’re at dinner, then watching the city pass you by the next. It’s silent in here. 

“Stop.” 

You slam back into your body. Still in the car. You wish you were asleep. 

“Huh?” 

Her eyes watch the road, but a hand rests on both of yours to pry them apart. 

“Stop. I hate that sound.” 

“… Wha—“

“You’re gonna rip your skin off if you don’t stop.” 

… Oh. Yeah. Bloody cuticles. It was all accidental, you swear. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes shut briefly and she sighs, sounding so worn. Exhaustion is her white flag. “Just stop.” 

“Alright.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s quiet again. The red from the stop light reflects in the car and you’re instantly reminded of your stepfather. 

“Ellie.” 

“Hm.” 

“We should get a bird.” 

“… And do what with it.” 

You shrug, “Pet it. Feed it, too.” Sing with it, you wanted to add. Ellie would’ve probably laughed at you. 

She snickers dryly, “That’s usually what you do with a pet.” 

“I never had one.” 

The light turns green and the car revs. Your wife hums, “I had a fish once or twice.” 

“Lucky.” 

A small — very, very minuscule grin quirks Ellie’s lips and your heart hollers. For joy? In warning? 

“Not really. They kept dying so I gave up.” She snickers to herself, and you can’t help but stare. She starts talking then. Eyes gone, tension gone. She’s suddenly relaxed. 

“My mom… she, uh… loved water. Was always in it or… watching it on TV or something. She always bought fish from fucking… PetCo—“

“PetCo?” You laugh, then Ellie does. 

“Right? She’d take me and be like, “get one”. And I went home with a new fish every time.” 

“I thought you only went once or twice?” 

“… Times 100,” She giggles, “My mom lived there. She would always talk to the cats through the glass.” 

You don’t hesitate, “I wanna go.” 

“To PetCo?” 

“Yeah.” Why not? 

Everything is almost over. So, why not? 

“… K.” 

“So we’ll go?” 

“Mhm.” 

And the conversation ends. The car is silent. Suddenly tense again when you ask, 

“Do you think we’re cut off?” 

Ellie’s jaw clenches and the car is suddenly tense. Back to square one. “Possibly. Tonight was a shit show. It went by fast, at least.” 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m…”

Alone. You’re fucking alone and know nothing about life outside of what was built around you. Without it, you’ll spiral and fail and face a dreadful reality. No more rose colored glasses even if they’re browned and wilted as is. You’ll be eaten alive by the creatures in the night without a protective border. 

But the curse will end. You won’t inherit or be forced to lie or play a game that ends in fire. Decades of legacy down the drain just like that, and by your own hand. It fascinates you, that power. A force you’ve been withheld from. 

“I don’t know.”

“Still thinking about divorce?” A void in Ellie’s tone. 

“I don’t know.” 

“They’ll never allow it, you know that, right?” 

“What if I just leave?” 

“And do what?” Her voice raises. 

“Who knows. Who cares.” 

“Please,” Ellie exasperates, “Your mom will get fucking SWAT to bring you back.” 

“What good will a corpse do for her?” 

You’ll be dead but you’ll have a bird. A colorful one. That’ll be your legacy. That’s all you need, really. Ellie doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. 

More buildings flash by and suddenly you’re home. Parked in the garage with Ellie beside you, gazing off into opaque walls. You wonder what she’s thinking. If she sees everything in black and white like you do. Maybe she’s the opposite, vision bright and full of suppressed color. She is a painter after all. 

“What’re your plans?” Ellie suddenly whispers. 

“For?” 

“Life. The future. Anything,” She pries and digs for something, “There has to be something that interests you! That gets you excited! There’s so much shit to do.” 

You shrug. Not much. Not anything. 

“I used to be excited for my wedding,” You mumble, “Like… as a kid. White dress and flowers and everyone’s just excited to be there. For love, and whatever, you know? That’s how it was in movies, at least.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s off your chest. The unhealthy romanticization of the happiest day of your life ended up being just another day to honor the greed of your families. Everyone was so lifeless when they watched you and Ellie kiss. It hadn’t even lasted 3 seconds before she shoved the band on your finger with teary cheeks. Such beautiful scenery was wasted on misery. 

You look over and Ellie’s eyes are roaring, palms squeezing together in her lap while her wedding ring twists around her finger. You watch it cycle. 

“Now I…” You chuckle sadly, “I just want a bird, to be honest.” 

With your heels and purse in hand, the car door opens and you exit, forcing yourself not to peek through the windshield at Ellie again. 

The second floor, your bedroom, your bathroom, are all quiet. Did Ellie not follow you inside? For a while, you envision what it would be like if you weren’t married. If you weren’t born as you, would your world be this still? 

It haunts you in the shower. Wolffish eyes and dry hands grasping at your shoulders and waist but everything’s quiet. 

You wash your face, brush your teeth, wrap your hair alone. You wonder if anyone is actually in the house. Was Ellie a figment of your imagination? Is this one of the nights that proves she doesn’t exist and that your brain is your greatest enemy? You shove your face into the mattress before your thoughts venture. Silence rocks you to sleep, but not forgetting the taunting desire to know 

Is death this quiet? 

Your mom’s calling. 

Vibrations rattle in your bedside dresser. The sun isn’t up yet. The birds are still resting. She never calls this early… or late. Something bad must’ve happened. It takes 17 seconds for your drawer to stop shaking before it starts again. 

You can’t move to answer, though. Your body isn’t yours at the moment. Your soul will reclaim its shell soon enough. Or maybe it won’t. 

Your drawer shakes shakes shakes. Your heartbeat eventually matches the pace of its vibrations. You think it’s been 20 minutes. Maybe longer. When will the birds wake? 

Finally, the calls stop. Your eyes shut again. Instantly taken by darkness. 

You never wear normal clothes. 

Ellie’s only ever seen you in thousand dollar dresses and high heel shoes that scrape your achilles and cloth that squeezes you so tight she thinks she might explode by just looking at you. No matter how fucking good you look in them. 

So what the fuck is that? Moreso, why does she like it so much? Her cheeks are on fucking fire and her heart is trying to flee its enclosing. 

You have a t-shirt on. A simple, non-Gucci white tee that says LAS VEGAS and black shorts and a scarf on your head and socks with squirrels on them. Is this the fucking matrix? 

You never wake up this late, either. It’s 20 till 10. 

“Did my mom call you at all?” 

No… no she didn’t… Why can’t Ellie speak? She’s sitting there gaping like a fish and taking guilty glances at your nipples through your shirt. She shakes her head. You nod yours. 

“I uh…” She mumbles with a cotton mouth when you step into the kitchen, “I made coffee.” 

“I smelled it.” You serve yourself at the counter. 2 Splenda packs, no cream.

“Did your mom call you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“I didn’t answer.” 

… Interesting. Odd. Her calls are never missed by you. 

“I hope it’s something bad.” 

Ellie swallows her sip thickly. “… Damn. Why?” 

“She deserves it.” You say calmly while stirring. “He does, too.” 

“Your dad?” 

“My stepfather,” You hiss and slam your mug on the table. Ellie flinches, “Yes.” 

Her palms raise in surrender, “Sorry.” 

“Where do you go at night?” The chair across from her scrapes on hardwood when you sit. 

Nowhere, recently. Ellie shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, “Anywhere. Wherever I want.” 

“Take me next time.” 

She pauses her sip to ogle. “Hm?” 

“Take me. I wanna see what’s fun for you.” 

Ellie huffs a shocked laugh, “No, you don’t.” 

You squint, “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m asking to see.” 

“It’s not your scene, dude, trust m—“

She jolts where she sits when a hand — your hand, soft and agile and cold, slams down on the table, rattling both your mugs and the vase that holds dead flowers, nearly shattering the glass with an accusatory finger. 

“You dunno know shit about me! I’m fucking going whether you like it or not! Whether she likes it or not, and if I have to do it myself, I fucking will, you fucking psychotic fucking bitch!” 

You rise and stomp to where she sits with a pounding heart and a lecherous swirl in her gut. You look about ready to slice her open with a blunt butter knife. 

“You treat me like fucking trash just like everyone else,” You whisper venomously, and Ellie shakes, “The least you could do is listen for once. Scared to take me to the place you cheat on me at? Don’t want me to see it? That’d be too real, huh?” 

Ellie exhales a shaky breath of your name, but your nails, cut and manicured to perfection, sink into her cheeks so tightly that she winces and blushes and her tummy twists with heat. You don’t flinch when her fingers delicately entangle around your wrist; doesn’t want you to think she’s holding you there even though she is. 

“You’re gonna show me a good time tonight. If it’s as fun as you say, that shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Her eyes must read yes, yes, it’s not a problem; Your grin is wild like a hyena; pretty lips swelled around pretty teeth and you always smell good. Caramelized sugar and nectar.  

“Who knows,” You purr and Ellie feels goosebumps forming, “Maybe I can meet one of your little friends.” 

She chokes around a gasp before her lips curl into a conniving grin, cheeks plush around your fingers, “Aren’t you a little hussy.” 

“Fuck you.” You shove her so hard her back collides with the seat but her eyes glow pink. She watches you leave the kitchen and stomp up the steps with a burning chest until a door slams from upstairs. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, wracked and desperate. 

-

-

-

Ellie will never admit — or maybe she will, but she purposefully uses your shared bathroom to catch glimpses at you. She always expects to find you out cold and wrapped in warm blankets, chest fluttering with each twitch of your socked feet that peek from below the blankets. 

What she doesn’t expect to see, though, is your phone shattered to pieces and left to drown in the clogged sink. Right next to a weighted rubber mallet; Where’d you find that? All your pent up emotions were taken out on your device… and the counter, apparently. The marble is chipped. 

She can only laugh in astonishment. Amazement. Fear when she realizes… 

Your mom.

Did you ever answer the phone?

Another day you’ve slept away. Either you were dreaming or someone was holding you suffocatingly tight; you enjoyed it, strangely. The sun is completely gone and there’s rustling and music echoing from the bathroom. Ellie’s in there. 

All the blood rushes to your head with how quickly you sit up, but your feet carry you past your closets until the light from the room sizzles your vision. 

Your wife stands by the mirror, drying her hair with a towel with a cigarette between her fingers. The guitar synths coming from her phone are grinding in your ears. 

Is she really keeping her promise? 

Did she promise to take you? You don’t remember. 

“Hi.” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and your spine twitches. You say nothing, so she chuffs with a teasing lift of her lips, “Chickenin’ out?”

“No.” 

“K.” 

“What do I wear?” 

She shrugs, “Whatever you want to.” She speaks around smoke and her timbre’s dry. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“Whatever I want to.” 

She must sense your skepticism because she’s suddenly reassuring, voice crackly, “You’re not under any expectations tonight. You wanted me to show you what I do for fun, and I’m gonna. You just have to do your part and enjoy it.” 

Your nails dig into your thighs while you watch her. She has her ring on and her body wash coats the room in cinnamon. With a pounding heart, your hands slowly drag up your sides, fingers dragging at the hem of your shirt. She’s not looking. 

Enjoy it…

“Did you eat today?” 

“No.” 

She gives you a look. Stern. What is she mad about? Your tummy flutters, “There’s leftovers downstairs, you can have ‘em,” She shakes her wet hair and puts on her glasses, checks her watch, checks her phone, hits her cigarette. “We’re kinda behind so you should get read—“

Enjoy it. 

Her eyes meet where your shirt drops to the floor, breasts on display while your hands inch up your legs to drag your shorts down, all while you watch her. And she watches you. It’s overwhelming, your wife as an audience while you undress. But she told you to enjoy it. Enjoy the night. Enjoy the stares. Enjoy the attention. Enjoy her, for once. It all seeps into your pores. You step out of your bottoms and peel your socks off. 

Ellie drinks you in slowly. Says nothing. Simply takes her time memorizing every line, curve, dip, scar of you. You like how ravenous she looks. The sin in her pupils only darkens when your thumbs hook in your underwear to shed them. They dangle from your index finger when you walk; You smile when her throat jumps. 

She watches your filled hand travel to her pant pocket to shove the flimsy cloth in. The muscles in her back twitch when your finger traces her spine. Ellie’s pretty, littered in cute, red and brown spots. 

“I’m gonna shower.” Your lips brush her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her arms. Her eyes flutter in a pleasant blink, nodding in understanding. 

Your wife takes her lighter and reignites your favorite candle while your water warms. How sweet of her to set the mood for you. 

Ellie finishes her cigarette while you lather, watching her through the fogged glass of the shower walls, massaging soapy hands into your breasts and your legs and everywhere. She lights another at some point, bent over the counter while she smokes, ogling you through the mirror shamelessly. You smile when it settles in your chest.

You’re gonna fuck your wife tonight. 

What a fucking oddball you are. It’s cute. A little sexy, too. Only a little, she swears. 

… Fuck. 

She waits for you on the bed, dressed and jewelried, fiddling with her watch out of nerves because what the fuck are you playing at? Whiplash; that’s what she’s had all fucking day because of you. She works in the morning, for fucks sake. 

Still…

Does she deserve this sudden… What the fuck even is this? Certainly not affection; you nearly strangled her at the dining table. Attention, possibly? Seduction? She’s wired to hell, she wants you so bad. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She could act on her attraction, sure. She’s positive you’d allow her to take whatever she wanted because that’s what you’re trained to do; to satisfy your partner — husband, she imagines your mother grating — in any way he desires. But Ellie’s not a man, and she doesn’t want that. She needs you to love it, to crave it as much as she does. To take from her like she dreams of taking from you. Ellie needs you to batter her, and if you’d like, she’ll do the same to you. 

If only you’d give her something tangible. Teasing isn’t enough. She’s desperate to get a grasp on your headspace; she wishes she could prick and prod at your brain for a second. What an experience that would be. 

You enter the bedroom like a ghost; hair still wet and coily, dressed in all black like she is, only decorated with gloss and earrings. No heels either. Just very shimmery looking flip-flops. Ellie bites down a smile. 

“Where are we going?” 

She shrugs at your inquiry, “Somewhere really, really loud.” 

“Will people find us?” Paps, you mean. Ellie denies. 

“Not where I’m taking you.” 

“Must be secretive.” 

She tuts, “Not… well, maybe. It’s fun though. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Okay.” 

Ellie stands with her wallet and keys and kiddingly offers you an arm to hold onto. “M’lady.”

But you don’t accept it; back turned, halfway out of the room towards the stairs.

Pleasant. She doesn’t mean to smile. 

She makes sure to grab the to-go box from earlier before locking the front door behind her. 

It is very loud here. And hot. And raunchy. 

… You like that. Your mom would have a heart attack if she were to ever walk in here. 

The trip to this whatever, wherever place was pretty far. You counted every second of the nearly hour ride, mainly because Ellie’s jittery knee made you nervous. It’s smaller than you assumed, but not quaint. Not at all. There's a ruckus from the entrance to the back exit, people your age and older, screaming and shouting words that you don’t know while people pound on drums and shred on guitar. They sweat through their clothes while their makeup streaks down their faces as they make love to microphone stands. 

… Better than tea time, you suppose. How exhilarating. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.

Not much can be said between you and Ellie. You can’t hear over the bass and rumbles from the floor but she holds your hand and small purse. Guides you to a small section in the back with a bar. She hands the tender her card and… that’s it. Four clear, questionably large shots are poured and slid to her like nothing. You want all of them. 

Ellie seems so at home as she guides you, already a burning shot down, into the crowd. You’re shoved instantly by party goers, but she catches you, holds you strongly. You look at her, puzzled with shock, but she uncaringly lifts her shoulders, downs a shot, and starts thrashing. 

Your jaw slacks and lights beam and flicker at a rapid pace but you’re smiling. Your wife meshes with the scene so nicely. You wanna be like that. So you follow. You drink and jump and flail and scream your head off. 

You and your wife are synched for once. Terrible dancers. No rhythm whatsoever. Who cares who cares who cares.

You wish your mom was here to see you like this. You hope your mom’s dead so she never has to see you like this. A thought so dark shouldn’t bring you this much joy. You laugh and holler at the imagery. Blood all over the marble. Blood all over the doors of your childhood home. Blood blood blood everywhere because they deserve it. Look at what they’ve done to you. Sick evil people.

You wanna kill your stepfather. This music makes you wanna kill your stepfather. It’s gorey in itself, almost. Abborherent verbiage. You think Ellie wants to kill your stepfather, too. You should ask her later. Maybe when you're both sober. Maybe you should make your mom watch you skin him alive. Him dying would damage her more than you ever could. 

When your eyes open, Ellie’s gawking at you, seemingly surprised. Impressed? She holds your cheeks to get your attention, gesturing, asking if you want another drink. You nod and shout in her face and she laughs. Ellie holds you by the waist and guides you to the bar. The bartender must like Ellie. You leave with a full bottle this time. 

You and Ellie pass it between yourselves, the night becoming more and more broken. Touchy. Feely. Ellie rubs all over you while you pour liquor into her mouth. A bit dribbles down the sides but she doesn’t care. You don’t either. So you lick the drops from her neck like a cat with milk. Ellie stops and you stop and everything stops. It’s just the two of you, suddenly; all other patrons evaporate to nothingness. Her eyes are blown and heavy as she searches your face, and they halt their wandering at your lips. She’s thinking about it; You want her to see how bad you crave it. Even if it’s just for a second. She smiles, pleased. You shudder. 

But she doesn’t do it. She spins you so your back is against her chest, lips at your neck while she pushes her hips into your ass. She’s messy, drenching your already sweaty neck in spit. Her nails dig into the fabric of your dress, guiding your hips, swaying you on her. You follow. You follow so blindly because you like her hands on you a little too much. You drink and drink and drink. Everything feels light. Good. 

You think Ellie’s speaking to you. Or singing words in your ear. Or maybe she isn't speaking at all. You’re not sure, but your face is burning hot. She tongues at your ear and you make a noise that you can’t hear but hope she can. You need this. 

Her hands are suddenly slow where they crawl up your sides until they rest on your breasts. Your empty hand lands on one of hers to squeeze so that she can squeeze you. You feel her smiling on your skin when your jaw slacks. 

Your head turns to chase her mouth, but she does you one better. Whisks you once more so your chests smash together. She snatches the bottle from your hand, takes one last swig before passing it to eager, drunk hands that wave from behind. You gasp when her thumb catches your bottom lip, pulls it down to get your mouth open enough for her to dribble liquor into. You moan loud enough for Ellie to hear over those booming drums, swallowing down everything she gives, nails sank into her waist while her hips push into yours. When you swallow the last drops, she kisses you. Messy and hot, tongue and teeth; it gets your heart singing. Her pink muscle swirls inside of your mouth and your arms wrap around her neck, yanking her into you so no space is left. Her hands are everywhere; tangled in your hair, grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs. Everywhere everywhere everywhere like she can’t get enough of you. You’re overwhelmed and high out of your mind but you follow her guide. Anywhere she wants you, you are. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as she is. After everything she’s done, you should hate her. You think you do. You hate her for leaving you. You hate her for embarrassing you. Abandonment. Her only gift to you. Maybe that’s why you kiss her with such conviction. 

Her touch is passionate; strong but not forceful. She breathes you in like a rarity, something she treasures, all while she licks and tugs at you like a slut. There’s a pulse deep within you when her lips enclose around your tongue to suck it. Your thighs squeeze and she grins madly, giving you one last innocent peck before she grabs your hand to spin you. You laugh and twirl with her. 

You understand why people fall in love so fast. You hate that you’re one of them. 

Or are you simply as delusional as they come? 

You’re even more enthralling when free of restraint. 

Ellie’s drunk and sweaty and exhausted but she uses every last bit of strength to stare at you. She sits at the bar as the crowd dwindles, artist after artist, established or aspiring, all go on to perform, and you haven’t taken a break once. You simply twirl and spin and mouth incorrect lyrics with the widest smile on your face, all while Ellie brings you her drinks to finish. 

You’ve been here for hours it seems, but Ellie can’t drive. But the night is young. You certainly don’t look ready to go home. 

What more can she show you?

“Thank you all for comin’ out! Tonight was a dream—“

You’re a dream, Her chest screams. You you you you fuck—

You clap like the happiest seal on the planet before spinning around to face Ellie. It happens in flashes: you come closer and closer until you’re in front of her, warm hands on her cheeks, ears tingling when you whisper, 

“I didn’t get to meet your sluts.” 

You sound upset about it. Ellie stumbles about how they didn’t come, how they’re not here. How she doesn’t wanna see them right now and she means it all, but you don’t believe her, and her chest hurts. Guilty guilty guilty. 

“Get up.” You step away and Ellie pains to pull you back, savor the night a second longer. But she signs the receipt before following you towards the exit. The cold air feels so good. She needs water now. 

She gives you a little yank when you start wandering the opposing direction, “Come… come here. This way.” 

You grin and slur, “Where to?” 

Ellie’s brows wiggle playfully, “Gas station. You hungry?”

“…Yes.”

Ellie extends her hand for you to hold, and surprisingly, you accept. Her heart jolts to life. 

The walk is quiet. Your eyes are glued to the sky, wide and innocent; the large moon entrances you, surrounded by glittery stars. You both wobble down the sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into pedestrians and other drunkards. She thought the rowdiness of nightlife would frighten you, but you seem drawn to the chaos.  

Soon enough, you’re both surrounded by aisles filled with chips and sodas and a fuck ton of candy. Ellie cringes at the fond stares she gives you holding 4 packs of watermelon sour patches. You’re cute as hell right now. Have you never been to a convenience store? What the fuck. 

“El! El, what the fuck! Where ya been!” 

Her sluggish brain is trying — really trying to figure out who the hell just left the staff room and is walking towards the two of you. It’s someone that knows her name or whatever shortened version they’ve created and the closer this person gets the more you shield yourself behind her fuck fuck fuck

Arms latch around her neck in a strong hug. Muscular, nice voice, smells like cherries. 

Abigail Anderson. Shoulda known. Great. 

“Jesus fuck, you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet! We fucking missed you! We haven’t seen you in…” 

When Abby pulls back, her eyes immediately find you. Ellie steals a glance; eyes wide, soft with curiosity. They darken slightly when they lock onto Abby’s shoulders, all the way down to her arms and Ellie… why the fuck does that annoy her? 

“Who’s that,” Abby whispers suggestively and Ellie sighs. Scratches at her eye in irritation. 

“I’m her wife.” You say causally, and it shocks both of them. Abby moreso. Did Ellie never tell her? She’s sure she did. Everyone knows she’s married… right?

“Wh— wife?” Her eyes shift onto Ellie, “Bitch, you got married? What the fuc— when—“

“3 months ago.” You answer.

“Fucking — holy shit. Congrats? Uhh… sorry! Nice to meet you! You’re gorgeous, by the way,” She stutters to shake your hand, but you accept it, “I’m Abby!” 

“Hi.” You smile in delight and your shoulders relax. Abby smiles just as gently and Ellie thinks it’s time to go because you’re both getting on her nerves. 

“Alright, well, we're gonna pay, so… yeah. I’ll text you tomorrow or something. We’re tired.” 

“Mhmm,” Abby hums cockily, eyes glued to the mess Ellie made of your neck, “Looks like y’all had a great time.” 

“We did,” She confirms with pointed eyes, “See ya.” 

“Byeee.” Abby sing-songs with a chuckle before Ellie leads you towards the service counter to dump your snacks. Ellie gives the cashier a familiar nod. 

“Is she who you fuck?” 

Ellie chokes on her water and the cashier gawks at you from behind their reading glasses. You couldn’t have been any fucking louder in that moment, what the fuck.

“What—“

“Do you fuck Abby? I hope not in that bathroom,” You clumsily point to the gender neutral sign near the entrance. “I heard they’re filthy—“

Ellie whispers even though there’s no point, “Dude, are you fucking crazy—“

“… It's just a question—“

“Have a nice night.” 

The cashier rigidly hands Ellie her a stuffed baggie and receipt. She snatches them before snatching you to leave. She drops your hand the second briskness surrounds you, “The fuck was that about?” Her chips are calling her. She needs a stress reliever. 

“What—“

She squeezes the bag and the pop rings like a gunshot, “Why the fuck are you asking if I fucked Abby? What the fuck—“

“She’s hot and you kinda are… to a certain degree, I guess. I just assumed.” 

Ellie’s appalled, but doesn’t have the energy to look offended. “Stop assuming, it’s… that’s fucking weird—“

You simply shove tiny watermelon slices in your mouth and steal her water to chug it. She watches you impatiently before you hand the crumpled, half-empty plastic back to her. She downs the rest and discards it some-fucking-where. 

Her thoughts are clouded. Did she fuck Abby? Are you forreal—

“I don’t care, you know.”

“About what?” 

You shrug, “If you fuck her.” 

“Please be quiet.”

“Okay.” 

You both do for a while, dead grass and Dorritos crunching around you. 

Until Ellie speaks again. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Mhm.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nmhm.” 

Wide awake, actually. The world passes you by with each step the two of you take, swirling with bright lights and laughter. You follow Ellie closely, handfuls of candy shoved in your mouth while she munches on her chips. You never had those orange triangles before. Neither of you are in a rush to make it back to the car. Can Ellie drive in this state?

“Do you, uh, like places like that? Concerts?” 

“Yes.” You break out in a grin. 

“What else do you like?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t… experienced much.” You shrug, accidentally brushing against your wife’s shoulder. Electricity sparks near the end of your spine where a steadying hand rests. “Your friend… does she go with you? To concerts?” 

“Who?”

“Aaabby.” You tease, mocking the blonde girl from earlier, and Ellie’s expressions flattens. She's unsure why. 

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Her chip bag is suddenly very interesting. “Sometimes. I met her at one a few years back after a showcase I hosted.” 

“I like her.” She’s nice and smells nicer. You regret not shaking her seemingly strong hand a few seconds longer. Strong all over, actually. 

“… Uh huh.” 

Your brow arches at that, “Does that bother you?” 

“Why the fuck would it bother me? You can like whoever.”  

“Exactly how you like whoever, huh?” You sneer lazily, and Ellie goes stoic. And just like that, the conversation dies once more. You’re glad for it; selfishly, you’d rather refrain from telling your wife about how attractive you found her friend. She’s left you guessing under too many circumstances. Consider this a sliver of revenge. 

You both make it back to the parking lot in silence, minus Ellie’s agitated crunching. You lean against the passenger door while you watch her dig around for the keys. 

“Where to?” 

“It's almost 4 in the morning.” She hisses. 

“So?” You came home later than that for weeks. You wanna say it. You should say it. Grind your thumb deeper into that open wound, but you save it. Another day, maybe. Maybe not. 

“So we’re going home. I’m tired.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“Okay? Whatever, I’ll drop you off somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t leave your poor, defenseless wife unattended, would you?” You whisper slowly, and Ellie tenses when you plant a soft hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge you, just stares through the window behind you. You scoff and drop it by your side. Cross your arms stubbornly. 

“You’re mad because I like Abby.”

“There’s nothing for you to like! You just met her.” Her voice raises, and annoyance flares in you. 

“Exactly! I just met her, and I like her! The fuck did you think I was gonna do? Flash her right in front of the gummy worms?” 

“I don’t know! Fucking maybe!”

“So you can fuck other people but I can’t?” 

Ellie’s very close to you suddenly. Your heart jumps, “Oh, now you wanna fuck Abby? She’s the first person you’ve interacted with besides me since we got fucking married!” 

“SO?” You holler. 

“SO YOU’RE NOT FUCKING MY FRIEND! ARE YOU INSANE!” Speckles of spit land on your face and it sizzles into your pores. You might be. You fucking are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Ellie’s forcing herself into your space, so why do you fight? Why are you hungry? 

Your palms crash into her chest and she nearly loses her balance, “I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU! WE’LL FINALLY BE EVEN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” 

“Yeah? Think Imma fucking whore?” Her grin is sinister, and excitement coils in your belly. Gets your fingers twitching from how hard they’re clenched. 

“Maybe I do.” Vehemence scathed your tongue. 

“You know what I think?” 

“I don’t care—“

“I think you do.” She mumbles against your cheek, “I think you’re jealous.” 

You still. Ellie’s eyes pierce through yours, burning and hot, nostrils flared: she looks like she could snap you in half. Your spine tingles with delirium. 

“You’re mad because I get to be. I can exist and fuck and party and come and go as I please and you hate it. You wish you could do what I do.” She stares like you killed her mother yourself. Strangled her with your bare hands. “I don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. You want that so bad it makes you sick.” 

“So why stay?” 

It shocks her. You don’t waver; passive as usual. 

“You’re free and can do whatever you want, right? Why are you here? Go and be that. Be whoever you wanna be because you can.”

Everything will be over soon. Might as well. Ellie simply glares through you. 

Curiosity is your worst enemy. Might as well ask. 

“Why’d you defend me at dinner?” 

What does she know what does she know what does she know what

She rubs her eyes stubbornly, “Oh my fucking god, who gives a fuck!” 

“Me! I give a fuck! Why’d you do it! Why! You’ve never done it before!” 

She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows

“BECAUSE FUCK HIM! FUCK EVERYBODY THAT DID THIS TO US! FUCK YOU, TOO!” 

You might cry, you might not. You’re unsure of everything and you’re angry and hurting. Ellie’s a reflection of you, and vise-versa. You hate her hate her hate her. 

Hatred. It might be the reason why kissing her feels so good. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Ellie shouldn’t have you trapped between her and her car, grinding so harshly into you that your spine bends. You shouldn’t tug at her hair to expose her neck to lick and suck and bite her neck red while she curses in your ear. 

This is the distraction you’ve been desperately searching for. To think you’d find it in your wife after all this time. 

“I’d be a whore for you,” She shamelessly seers against your throat, hands wandering to unbutton her own pants, “You know that, right?” 

… That’s cute. Makes you blush. 

“Yeah?” Her laugh is thick like syrup, “Gets you hot? Knowing how easily I’d give it up for you?” 

That sideways grin makes you tick. Your hand closes tight around her throat and she nearly bloodies her bottom lip with her fangs. Your wife looks pathetic; thumbs hooked into her pants, so ready to drop them for you in the middle of the parking lot. People are wandering about; she’s willing to fuck in front of them? 

How pretty would she look trying to be quiet for you? Nervous eyes searching for privacy, praying no one walks by and sees her on the edge with your hand down her underwear. Hopefully no one recognizes her, pulls out their phone, records the two of you. Blasts you both on social media while Ellie moans in your mouth. What would people think? Your families? How ashamed would they be? Their two girls making a mess of themselves in public. 

The thought makes you smile. Scares you. Makes you choke her harder. Her pained whine vibrates in your palm. 

“Get the fuck in the car.” 

The windows fog with the heat of your bodies; her body trapped beneath yours in the back seat that’s roomier than you anticipated. She rolls your hips on top of her, desperate and eager to rip your fucking clothes off and feel you for real. Your dress rests around your hips, your panties on display and she wishes she could see them. She only has her hands for reference, tracing over each thin seam littered with lace and patterns she tries to memorize. Your tongue belongs in her mouth. You feel so fucking good; you’re not close enough. She needs you closer. 

Her mouth chases yours when you finally separate, only connected by a thin string of saliva, but a stern hand collides with her chest to keep her flat. Her hands tickle your waist. Rests your dress even higher until she can see your belly button. 

“Wanna know a secret?” You whisper down at her, and she smirks. 

“I know you’re a virgin, baby.” She whispers giddily, and your teeth grit. A flame coils in your chest. You ignore her.

“You could’ve had me after our wedding, you know? With my face buried in the pillows and my ass in your face. I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted that night.” 

Your sudden vulgarity stuns her silent. Your wife looks like she’s imagining it; lip bruised from both your and her teeth, mind racing with filth of you in every position she can think of. She wouldn’t have been able to separate from you if that was the case. It’s one of the reasons she kept her distance; those pretty brown eyes rolled back would’ve put her underground. She’d never tell you that. 

“But no,” You say like it aches, “You wanted to go and bend over all those girls that follow you around like fucking dogs. You wanted a bitch, not a wife. Right or wrong?” 

She can barely breathe and your hand pressing on her chest isn’t helping; reduces her to sharp gasps that make her lightheaded. The more ragged they become, the harder you press. Your brow arches when she innocently bares her teeth. 

Her palms squeeze at your ass, “I thought about you the entire time—“

Your hand cracks and her head flies to the side. Right on her left cheek is the already reddening imprint of your hand. The crackles in your palm are numbed by the alcohol and your core burns at the shock on her face. She gawks off to the side, that meddling smile dropped completely, chest ragged with her breaths. 

“Ellie, put your hands down.” You spit, and they drop from you completely, palms flat on the seat beneath her. 

“You had every chance to do right by me and you wasted every single one.” You sound like you’re about to cry; Ellie’s too scared to look at you. Not the good scared that she’s felt around you this entire time, but a hollow scared. The one that freezes you. Her fight or flight is triggered. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” You whisper against her burning face before you kiss it gently. A pained groan escapes her, and you laugh. Loud, in her face. Even louder when she tries to grind her hips up into you. 

“Take us home, wife.” 

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk. 

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone. 

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation. 

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins. 

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look. 

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him. 

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words. 

And he was right. 

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off. 

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now. 

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat. 

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch. 

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed. 

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned. 

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face. 

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry. 

“Come on.” 

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth. 

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom. 

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space. 

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler. 

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep. 

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life. 

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around. 

He was making breakfast. 

“Hey.” 

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other. 

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something. 

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened. 

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door. 

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why. 

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out. 

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you. 

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did. 

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him. 

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places. 

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning. 

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you. 

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged. 

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head. 

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.” 

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again. 

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you. 

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back. 

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom. 

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do. 

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone. 

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question. 

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone. 

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn. 

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.” 

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road. 

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing. 

However, that caused one problem. 

Tyler. 

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body. 

Filling out his jeans in all the right places. 

With a crisp white t-shirt. 

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head. 

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler. 

 “Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure. 

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into. 

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you. 

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you. 

“How’d you mean?” You asked. 

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back. 

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth. 

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other. 

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did. 

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips. 

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor. 

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand. 

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both. 

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would. 

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push. 

But you wanted him to. 

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck. 

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall. 

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment. 

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it. 

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end. 

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment. 

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground. 

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell. 

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too. 

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you. 

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded. 

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing. 

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch. 

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people. 

You and Tyler. 

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together. 

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders. 

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band. 

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor. 

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop. 

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more. 

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand. 

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you. 

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him. 

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

first day jitters | like mother, like daughter mini series

summary: rascal starts her first day at big school and there's some apprehensive big feelings about the day.

like mother, like daughter masterlist

“Alright, yer’ got yer’ new backpack and yer’ shiny new shoes,” Katie was doing the quick checklist to make sure that you were ready and she hadn’t forgotten anything important while you slowly attempted to eat your breakfast cereal, “Okay rascal, I think yer’ ready for yer’ first day!”

Today’s the first day that you’re starting big school. You should be excited about it but instead there’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, like when you had the chicken-pox before. 

You don’t know what to expect.

Continuing to sit at the table, a pout on your face with your cereal still untouched, you’re very adamant about your own feelings right now, “I don’t want to go.”

Katie turned to glance in your direction as she checked over the lunchbox she had packed for you, “What was that, rascal?”

“I don’t want to go to big school today, Mammy,” You repeated, a little louder and clearer that definitely got Katie’s attention, “I want to stay home instead.”

“Yer’ don’t want to go?” Katie’s smile quickly turned into a concerned frown, “But yer’ were so excited the other day, kiddo. Yer’ going to have a whole bunch of fun and make a lot of new friends!”

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to go anymore,” You declared, shaking your head promptly as you crossed your arms against your chest, “Stay here, stay with you!”

“Rascal, yer’ can’t stay with me. I have to go to work, remember? I have to go and train for the game,” Katie explained delicately as she moved to crouch down in front of you, “Will yer’ tell Mammy why yer’ don’t really want to go to school?” She asked in a gentle tone of voice.

“I’m scared, Mammy,” You admitted as your bottom lip wobbled in fear about the day ahead and the apprehensive feeling you had.

“I know yer’ scared, but yer’ going to make loads of friends and have lots of fun!” Katie insisted still in that attentive yet gentle tone of voice.

 “What if the other kids’ don’t like me, or… or what if my teacher turns out to be a meanie?” You worried about the things that could happen and it made you feel even more uneasy than before.

Katie furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “Hey, yer’ listen to me, okay? Yer’ listening to Mammy, yeah?” She paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I promise yer’ that nobody will ever pick on yer’ at all, alright?”

“They won’t?” Your little voice doesn’t sound that convinced.

“Course not!” Katie insisted louder while still shaking her head, “Yer’ my daughter and us McCabes? We stick up for ourselves!”

You beamed a wide smile, “I just like you, Mammy!”

“Exactly, and yer’ know that means yer’ a tough little cookie just like me! So yer’ don’t need to worry about being picked on,” Katie squeezed your knee gently.

“What about my teacher?” You had a puzzled expression on your face, weary about your new teacher, although you have previously met her.

“Yer’ don’t need to worry about her either, we’ve already been and met her before remember?” Katie reminded you about the time when you went to visit your big school with Katie and Ruesha to meet your new teacher, “And yer’ liked her didn’t yer’?”

You thought about it for a brief second before you nodded, “She’s nice.”

“See? Yer’ going to be absolutely fine, Rascal. I promise!” Katie reassured you with a kind smile, “Now, do you think yer’ can eat yer’ breakfast now? We’re gonna have to go soon, and it’ll be better if yer’ tummy’s full, won't it?” She joked, prodding at your stomach lightly.

Standing outside of the tall gates was daunting to you, but being here with Katie and Ruesha, who made sure she was available for the day and met you at school gates, made things seem that little bit better.

“Alright, this is it, rascal,” Katie was the first one to speak up as the three of you stood in the playground, surrounded by other parents and kids, who were feeling the same way that you did, “Yer’ ready to go in there and learn?”

“It’s a big school,” You murmured nervously.

Katie hummed in agreement as she looked at the school in front of her, “It is a big school, isn’t it?” she chuckled, wrapping a free arm around your shoulder.

“Too big, it looks scary!” You mumbled, inching closer to the brunette to try and hide behind her leg.

“I know it looks scary, kid, but look there’s a cool playground,” Ruesha crouched down to your own level, “Doesn’t that look fun? You’re going to have the best day, today. Right, Katie?” She checked with her ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, yeah. Yer’ Mamas’ right there, rascal,” Katie nodded in agreement with her ex, “You’re going to have a lot of fun doin’ all that fingerpainting and reading and well the extra stuff– You’re not going to miss either of us.” She reassured you, trying to be as honest as possible.

You continued to shake your head in determination that you didn’t want to go in, “I don’t wanna go in.”

“Rascal, we talked about this though, didn’t we? Yer’ gotta go in there, kid,” Katie explained carefully, reminding you of what the pair of you talked about earlier on, “I promise yer’ going to have so much fun, kid.”

“Please, Mammy. I don’t wanna– I wanna come with you. I don’t wanna go in there!” You plead, attempting to cling onto her trouser leg and look up at her with wide eyes, “I don’t wanna go in!” You repeated, scared.

“Yer’ have to go in,” Katie continued to try and coax you closer towards the doors to go inside.

“No, I don’t want to,” You mumbled, shaking your head, determined you weren’t going in as you looked towards Ruesha, “Mama, I… I don’t want to go in. Please don’t make me go in!”

Ruesha exhaled a sigh and scratched the back of her head, “Well, eh, that’s okay. How about we could try again tomorrow?” She suggested.

“No Rue, she has to start school today,” Katie gave Ruesha a firm look before peering back down to look at you, “I know you're scared, rascal, but there’s lots of other kids’ here that feel the same way that you do, remember?” she reminded you.

“I know, Mammy,” You mumbled, prising your small hands around Katie and clinging onto her still, “I don’t wanna go in though!” You declared.

Katie exhaled a sigh but knew she needed to stand firm on her decision, “I know you don’t want to, but remember what we talked about during breakfast, don’t yer’?”

“I’m a McCabe, and McCabes’ stick up for themselves!” You insisted, puffing out your chest promptly although you're still very hesitant to want to go into the school building right at this very moment.

“Atta’ girl,” Katie chuckled while she ruffled your hair, “Yer’ gonna be fine, rascal.”

Now it was Ruesha’s turn to look unimpressed at Katie,  “Don’t tell me you’ve been telling our daughter to go around fitting with her fists.”

“Well, no not exactly…” Katie mumbled, scratching the back of her head awkwardly, “I just said if she needed to stick up for herself then she can.” She added.

“Unbelievable,” Ruesha scoffed and shook her head before she looked down at you, “Don’t listen to your Mammy, you don’t hurt people at all. Violence is not the answer.”

“But Mama, Mammy always says it is,” You tell her innocently with wide eyes fluttering between Katie and Ruesha, “Right, Mammy?”

“Eh, well, sometimes, you see Rascal…” Katie began to speak as lucky for her, your new teacher appeared to greet the three of you.

“Well hello there!” A warm voice called out, breaking the little standoff between you and the two of them, she had a kind smile on her face as she walked over to the three of you, “Are you ready to come and join us?” She asked in a kind tone of voice.

You didn’t bother to speak as you continued to look between Katie and Ruesha in apprehension.

“Yer’ gonna go in, rascal?” Katie nudged you slightly forward with a soft and reassuring smile on her face.

“I don’t wanna go in, Mammy,” You murmured your response, shaking your little head in disagreement.

“Come on kid,” Ruesha tried her luck to coax you towards the doors, “I know you’re going to have so much fun. I bet when we pick you up later, you’re gonna have had so much fun that you’re not gonna want to leave, eh?” She wondered.

You pouted in disagreement, firm in your choice that you definitely didn’t want to go in, “No, I stay with you both instead!”

“Yer’ can’t do that though Rascal,” Katie frowned, deep in regret that she was making you go into school after all, but this is something that you had to do now.

Your new teacher knelt down to be on the same level as you and was giving you a soft smile, “I know that starting a new school can be a bit scary sometimes, can’t it?” She questioned as you nodded in agreement, “We have some really fun activities waiting for you inside, would you like to come and see what we have?” She suggested.

That started to pique your interest about what there might be, “What activities?” You wondered, curiously.

“Well we have a little bit of everything set up. We have a section for painting,” Your teacher told you, still in that kind tone of voice, “Do you like painting?” She asked.

“I do,” You replied in agreement, nodding your little head in a fast motion as you slowly released your hands from around Katie’s legs.

“You do?” Your teacher fauxed a gasp, “Well then, would you like to come and see what we have set up? Maybe you can paint a picture for your Mammy and Mama, hm?”

“Yeah!” You agreed enthusiastically, liking the sound of that after all, “But I’ll have to make 2  pictures though. My Mammy and Mama don’t live together anymore.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem too much,” Your teacher said, nodding along with your short ramble, “Well how about we say goodbye to your Mammy and Mama, and we head inside to take a look?” She asked.

“O… Okay then,” You agreed, you’re still a bit hesitant to go in but the idea of painting a picture does sound like a lot of fun at least, “Do I get to find my own peg as well?”

“Ah yes you do, I’m glad you remembered that,” Your teacher responded with her usual pepiness in her tone of voice.

You smile a little brighter as you turn to look at Katie and Ruesha, “It’s okay, I will be brave now,” You paused for a minute, “I’m gonna have fun. Bye, Mammy. Bye, Mama!” You waved, exchanging a small hug with both of them.

Katie was the first to bend down and wrapped her arms around your small frame, “Bye Rascal, have fun at school, and don’t miss me too much okay? I love yer’,” She said, feeling the tears  well up in her own eyes at the reality of you going to big school now.

“Come here you little monster,” Ruesha joked, coaxing you into her embrace, “Have fun, okay? But not too much fun. I wanna pick you up and hear about all the great things you’ve done today.” She said, feeling herself get emotional as well as she squeezed you gently in her arms.

“Mama, you’re squeezing too tight,” You struggled to wriggle free from her as you giggled, “I’ll be okay, I’m brave. Love you both!” You said, giving them another wave with a newfound determination to conquer big school.

“Bye rascal,” Katie murmured, standing up straight as she waves while watching you walk through the doors of the school, “She’s growing up so fast.” She mumbled aloud.

“Yep, it doesn’t seem like five minutes ago since she was born,” Ruesha said in response, standing up and wiping a few tears from her eyes, “Where’d the time go?”

Katie took no shame in wiping a few stray ones from her eyes and nodded, “It went quick,” She replied as she shook her head, “Er, right, well… She finishes school around 3. Do yer’ want to pick her up, or should I come and pick her up?” She wondered.

“How about we do it together?” Ruesha questioned, making Katie blink in disbelief, “Surely we can get along for one day for the sake of our kid, right?” She asked.

“Well, er, yeah I guess so,” Katie shrugged her shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets, “Alright then… I’ll see yer’ back here.” With that, she gave Ruesha a nod, her voice a little softer than usual, before making the quick escape back to her car.

Only after she closed the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath and allowed the tears that she’d finally held back to finally fall.

It was a bittersweet mix of pride and heartache - watching you, her little rascal, take this big step into the world.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[razorblade180]

Long Distance

Weiss:*reading*

Bzzz! Bzzz!

Weiss:*presses speaker* This is Weiss Schnee.

Winter:Weiss, I apologize for bothering you while you’re on leave, but there’s a situation that can’t-

AAAAARRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Weiss:Was that…a Leviathan?

Winter:Yes. It’s 55 miles due east of Argus. We’re on site but could use more power. If it gets closer-

Weiss:Evacuating procedures start. I really don’t feel like moving all that much.

Winter:You’re only three months pregnant.

Weiss:With twins. Let’s not forget that part. I feel bloated as hell. How many airships and do you have any heavy hitters there.

Penny:Saluuutations!!! Four airships in total!

Nora:Hiiii Weiss! Hope you’re putting your feet up!

Winter:That answer your question?

Weiss:*closes book* Nora, Penny, let’s play catch.

Penny and Nora:Ready anytime!

The tired young lady walks over to the fire escape and takes the stairs up to apartment complex roof.

Weiss:You said East?

Winter:Yep.

Penny:There’s a five mile head wind!

Weiss:Thank you!

She summons an Arma Gigas and lets it grow to its full size. One hand summons its mighty blade while Weiss creates a second blade made of ice for it to use. The grand beast began to spin slowly, its speed ramping up with each full cycle thanks to the weight of the blades. It wasn’t long before it actually chucked the blade in the right hand like a frisbee, then let the left blade fly out of its hand.

Weiss:Coming at ya!

xxxxxx

Leviathan:AAAAARRRGGHH!

Nora:Hold on a sec!

Winter:Stop acting like it understands you.

Nora:It knows it’s doing a lot.

Penny:*flying* Incoming gifts!

She points at two shimmering blades soaring higher than the airships at intimidating speed.

Nora:Uhh Winter?

Winter:I got it. Just jump.

Nora leaps out the ship into Penny’s arms and gets tossed sky high. Penny maxes out her thrusts to intercept the ice blade at the perfect time to grab the hilt; while Nora is added by Winter with the help of a giant gravity glyph that not only slows the speed of the sword enough for her catch without flying off, but also remain in the sky at the perfect angle.

With both girls above on each side of the beast, they launch themselves down diagonally. Nora swings downward from the left of the neck near the gills while Penny swings skyward, causing the Leviathan to lose its mind, literally. The head came clean off. Winter caught Nora and brought her back as the girls dropped the giant blades.

Weiss:Everything good? I…have two more of those in me.

Winter:On behalf of Argus, Atlas, and Mantle, we thank you for your services.

Weiss:Write it on a check and send it to my landlord.

Winter:Done.

Nora and Penny:Byyyye Weiss! Take care! Love you!

Weiss:Love you too! Don’t work too hard!

She hangs up with a satisfied sigh, her summon fading away as she makes it back inside. Weiss returns to her book just in time for Jaune to walk through the door.

Jaune:Hello, my Snow Angel. How has your day been?

Weiss:Jaune, I fear I might be really amazing. Dare I say, awesome?

Jaune:I definitely would. *kisses forehead*

Weiss:*smiles* Hopefully our kids think so.

[humanitys-strongest-brat]

Kintsugi - ch.4

Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader

CW: themes of injury, depression, and hopelessness. 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: You all know the drill, thank you @tobbi-loves-levi for going over this chapter with me and helping me make it everything I wanted 💗

previous / masterlist / dividers

An inviting herbal scent fills the air in Levi’s office, complemented nicely with a warm room temperature. While outside it’s quite hot around this time of June, the center is pretty consistently freezing; especially the ice rink. The printer whirls behind Levi’s office chair while he leans back with his arms stretched out to catch the papers as they slide out. He gathers them together, tapping them once on the desk before flipping open your file and placing them at the back. The start of your fifth week means you’re more than halfway through your estimated treatment plan with Levi. 

Levi spins the folder around so it’s facing you and scoots his chair in to lean over it, using his pen to point out specific milestones you have reached. “I think we should change our Wednesdays to off ice days for the remainder of our sessions.” He mentions as he flips through the pages. “Keep Mondays and Fridays as our rink days. Sound alright?” You nod in agreement, following Levi's pen as he goes through a loose schedule of goals he wants to reach over the next couple of weeks. 

“Sign here, then we can head down.” He double taps the signature line. “Oh, and you might want to think about reaching out to Tarasov again if you’re serious about getting involved once skating season begins.” 

You hadn’t considered how fast the time has gone by. Skating season starts in July and your sessions with Levi are on route to wrap up in just a few weeks. You should be happy, everything you worked for is starting to pay off and soon enough you’ll be working on getting back into competitions. Bit by bit all of your goals are being met, so why does your heart ache for more time? 

“You coming, or did you want to spend today’s session staring at my desk?” Levi asks. You’re not sure how long you went without responding to him. 

Your mind is elsewhere for the beginning of today’s session while you did your warm up basics, up until you had no choice but to put all of your mental energy into your target goal for today. Levi has you do Waltz jumps until you could do them with your eyes closed. By the time you move onto spins for the rest of your time, you think if you had to do another waltz you’d pull the hair out of your head. That’s the thing about Levi, he understands when something’s too much to handle but once he’s sure you can do it he’s not so easy on you. Funnily enough it’s one of your favorite things about him, and one of the leading reasons you can say you're making progress. He won't let you give up. 

***

On Wednesday you show up early again to watch Levi skate. Even though you know you won't be on the ice today, it’s still nice to be around it. Your fear of being turned away fades when he sees you standing at the boards and continues on with his routine anyways. Erwin shows up shortly after you and stands to your left. You can't help but be curious about him. He and Levi seem close, in fact you’ve never really seen Levi talk to anyone casually outside of erwin. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to start talking, neither of you taking your eyes off Levi. You learn that Erwin is a personal trainer based in the basketball wing of Sina, though he takes clients of any sport. He met Levi seven years ago when he first started working here because surprisingly enough, he’s a huge fan of ice sports. Soon you come to find that Erwin and Levi are a lot closer than you originally assumed. They even hangout outside of work too, though as Erwin put it, “it took some convincing.” With how reluctant Levi is to open up, you believe that. 

Levi finishes off with three consecutive jumps before gliding off towards the rink’s exit to get out of his skates.

“He adds one member to the audience and suddenly pulls out the big moves. Show off.” Erwin huffs out a laugh and thanks you for the pleasant conversation before turning and heading off.

Off-ice starts off as it usually would, stretches, ankle exercises, balance board, and spinners. Somewhere down the line you and Levi were practicing throws again. You don't know how it happened but you don’t care. It’s productive because it still helps you build back the skill of landing on your ankle and get used to the feeling of air time again. You slowly work on adding more rotations before landing and eventually Levi feels more comfortable throwing you higher. 

You dont think you’ll ever get tired of the feeling of Levi’s hands on you. It feels safe, he makes you feel light. No matter what, you're confident Levi would never put you at risk for another injury. There's no wiggle room in competitive figure skating. Everything has its order, but it doesn't feel that way with him. In a way you almost feel like he sets you free from that mindset. Even if it’s only for a small chunk of time each session. The following week, it’s now just an unspoken part of your routine.

***

You quickly learn that time is not a generous thing, the whole next week of sessions goes by much faster than you expected. You blame this on the fact that the more you worked with Levi the better you were getting. Once you started to get a handle on skating again after so much time off the ice it started to become more fun rather than something you needed to do to heal.

Every day that week, you showed up to watch Levi skate before your sessions. When you weren’t completely mesmerized by him, you took the opportunity to watch his form in real time rather than how he would present it to you during therapy. You think that helped you get things down as quickly as you are. 

This week marks the beginning of your last two weeks with Levi, and it’s all that you think about. That’s only six more sessions, two of which aren’t even on the ice. It’s not that you didn't think you were ready, no, you know you are. Levi has talked enough sense into you the last couple weeks to have you sure of that, paired with your progress he showed you in your file. It’s clear that you are recovering and building your skill back to how it was before your accident. It was scary to think about doing this without Levi, you still haven’t taken his advice on reaching out to your old coach. The second you do that it will just feel that much more real. You know how irresponsible it is to put off too, which only made it worse. 

Monday you show up to watch Levi skate as usual, quickly noticing that Erwin isn’t here. When he sees you he skates over to the board to greet you, which he usually doesn’t do. When he meets you at the boards he’s quiet for a moment, you can’t quite read the subtle expression on his face. 

“Do you want to come out here with me?” He asks, his question throwing you off a little.

“What, like early?” You ask. 

“No,” he pauses, brows furrowed lightly. Is he nervous? “To skate.” 

“You want me to skate with you?” 

“That’s what I said. Hurry up before I change my mind.” He says, pushing off the boards and skating off. That’s all you needed to hear. You pick up your bag and rush over to the bench to put your skates on, triple checking the laces before going out onto the ice with him. 

Levi meets up with you in the middle of the rink where you stand. “What should I do?” you ask, feeling lost without your usual directions. 

“Whatever you want.” Levi says “Don’t you ever skate for fun?”

You think about it, and you can honestly say that you don't. You haven’t since your accident and even before you can’t think of the last time you went ice skating for anything other than to maintain or improve your skill. “No.” You shake your head lightly. 

“Ah,” Levi hums “explains why you’re so damn hard on yourself. You know you should kind of enjoy this right?” His words sink deep, he’s right. You watch him as he zips off, all you can think to do is bits of your program from Nationals. You take out more of the extreme moves knowing Levi wouldn’t want you doing anything you haven’t worked much on during your sessions together. 

It’s slow, it’s choppy, but you landed everything you attempted. You stayed balanced on your ankle every time you tried, but it’s so hard to be reminded that it’s not the same. Thoughts creep in swiftly. How could you ever compete again? Especially when even after all the improvement you couldn’t even stitch together a smooth program. 

“It’s almost like you don’t need me anymore.” Levi comments as he meets back up with you. You wouldn’t say it outloud to him, but it only made you feel worse. It seems like Levi knows you more than you give him credit for. He doesn’t expand on that thought, but instead he asks if you want to try one with him. 

You agree, it would make it fun just like the throws you practice. Levi gives you a sequence that’s easy to follow and of course only includes two of the simpler jumps the two of you have worked on together as of recently. Essentially this is a pairs program, which is entirely new to you. 

Levi counts the two of you down to start off together, pushing off in sync you go through the motions with him. He starts off with his hand hovering over your lower back behind you, making sure you stay in line with him. Only when he’s sure you can stay in your path does he pull his hand back, allowing the two of you to go off into your first harmonized spin and jump combo.

After going through the routine two more times it’s almost flawless, even you could tell. You lean over with your hands on your knees “Do you want to try that throw?” You asked through labored breaths, though you were half joking. Levi won’t even entertain it. 

“Absolutely not. You need a break anyways.” You catch your breath by the boards with Levi standing across from you, seemingly unphased by the repeated routine the two of you just did. 

“Have you ever had Erwin come out here with you?” 

“Tried. He says he doesn’t want to become one of my clients.” 

You laugh before taking a drink from your water bottle and setting it back down on the ledge. You find yourself thinking over your routine with Levi again, and his words from earlier. You should be having fun skating and it was clear Levi did so you wonder.

“Do you ever miss competing?” You ask him, nervous that he may not appreciate the question.

“Every day.” His answer was not hesitant this time.

“You should get back into it.” You say softly.

“I can’t.” He replies and you can see by the look on his face it’s hard for him to talk about this. He’s being short, but not unwilling. 

“Are you kidding? Levi, you’re incredible out there.” Your expression softens as you try to be hopeful, maybe he just needs to hear it from someone. 

“That’s not my life anymore.” Out of all the weeks you’ve known him, you’ve never heard him sound so sad. Levi anxiously pulls at the hem of his sleeve before pulling it up and checking his watch “It’s time to start our session.” 

You ease off it, watching as he moves to skate towards the center of the rink. For the first time you don’t look forward to your session, the more you complete the more it dawns on you; your time with Levi is almost up.

That’s when it hits you

An idea.

***

Nervous is an understatement. Honestly, you felt like you were driving yourself crazy. When you came up with this idea, you thought it through a million times. It’s the scariest thing because if it doesn’t work out you’re screwed. You couldn’t keep it to yourself, you needed advice, and who better to ask than your best friend. 

Mikasa shows up around seven, prepared for your agreed upon sleepover plans made on Monday night with a set of comfy clothes and carry out from your favorite restaurant for dinner. When she let you know Friday night works for her you were thankful the weeks were going by so fast. You let her in and head straight to the couch, where you enjoy the meal while you start the first episode of a new series. 

“Well,” Mikasa hums when the two of you mutually decide to take a break from the show. “you’ve been awfully quiet about how it’s going in therapy.” 

You smile over at her, turning your body to face her. “Honestly? It was tough at first, I’m not going to lie. It’s a lot better now.” 

“So Levi didn’t scare you off then?” She jokes. “He won’t tell me anything, says you’re a client like any other so,” she trails off. 

“The opposite actually. He's,” You pause for a moment, breaking your eye contact with Mikasa. “He’s amazing. There’s no way I could have made any of the progress I have without him.” You tell her everything. Your progress in physical therapy, the clever ways Levi challenged your anxiety, even the throws and skating together before your sessions; another thing that became an unspoken addition to your routines with Levi. 

“He even opened up a little bit here and there about some of the things he struggled with after his injury.” You mention, and Mikasa’s eyes shoot open. Genuine shock taking over her expression. 

“Really?” She breathes.

“Just a little.” You say, shrugging. “I don’t know much, just that it seemed hard. I can’t even imagine.” 

Mikasa takes a minute to think about how to respond. “We didn’t see him for over a year. He skipped birthdays, holidays. His mom was sick over it for so long.” Mikasa gets quiet again. “He wasn’t the same for a long time, to this day he won’t speak about it.” It was difficult to hear, but made you wonder why Levi was so different around you. Why would he be more willing to answer your questions over his own family? You were scared more than ever now to bring up the idea you’ve been holding in the whole night.

“It sounds like he really likes you.” Mikasa says. “Seems like he found a friend in you.” It sounds silly, even coming from Mikasa. At the end of the day you aren’t oblivious to the fact that you’re a client of Levi’s, not a friend. As much as you wanted to push back you had more pressing matters on your mind. 

“Can I ask you something?” You brace yourself for the words that are about to come out of your mouth. 

“Sure,” Mikasa says softly.

“It might sound crazy,” You begin nervously. “I was thinking about asking him to be my coach after therapy is finished. It’s a shot in the dark, but I know I can do it with him.” You can’t help but feel like along with advice, you’re also asking for her blessing.

“I think that’s a great idea.” A warm smile spreads across Mikasa’s face, her eyes lighting up.

***

A long sigh escaped your lips as you plop down on the bench, your whole body surging with ache. Levi had chosen the last week of sessions to work on the more advanced jumps and spins. It was more so to make sure he could send you off to your coach confident that you knew what you were doing, and that you would be able to build your skill back up while training for competitions. 

Levi approaches you after he takes his own skates off, bumping your skate with his shoe to get your attention “What’s going on with you.” His tone laced with concern. 

“Huh?” You pick your head up, your confusion painted clearly across your face. 

“Something’s on your mind. This isn’t the week to lose focus.” He says plainly. 

You shake your head, turning your gaze back down and directing your attention back on getting your skates off so there was no chance for him to read your facial expression. Proving him right. “Everything’s fine Levi,” You try to assure him. The truth is, you were trying to wait until the last day to ask him. That way if it went badly you’d never have to face him again. Part of you didn’t even know why you were so worried about it. You set your skate on your lap, dragging a cloth across the blade to dry it before putting it away.

“The past four sessions you’ve been somewhere else. Today you barely even spoke.” His words cut through your chest, you forget how observant he is sometimes. “This is the most important part, I can’t release you unprepared.” 

“I didn’t fall once today.” You point out, in fact your session today felt a lot like your regular training. Just practicing to maintain. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Levi says. “Don’t tell me you’re second guessing about getting back into competitive skating.” 

You zip your bag up after dropping your other skate inside, whipping your attention back up at Levi. “No! Of course not.” You assure. Just looking at him hurts a little, you start to doubt your plan. It would uplift his whole career to take you under his wing, it almost felt selfish. You should be able to do this with Tarasov. Hell, she got you to Worlds the first time. You know reaching out to her this late would earn you being scolded for waiting until the last second. 

Levi’s knit eyebrows relax and he drops his shoulders, visibly relieved. He stands there for a moment before letting out a sigh and giving up. “Fine, come back on Wednesday more sharp.” He turns around and heads off towards the door, picking up his own skate bag as he walks past it. Panic rises to the surface, you wish you could yell out to him, tell him you don’t want to have to do this with anyone other than him. In an instant you decide that you can do just that. You stand up and grab your bag, haphazardly stuffing your feet into your shoes before taking off after him. Your bag swishes behind you every time your shoes hit the ground 

“Levi!” You don’t mean to shout so close behind him. He flinches when you grab his shoulder to stop him, causing him to turn and face you. “I lied, sorry.” you start. 

“Alright. So what is it?” Levi says, one eyebrow raised as he tenses up slightly under your light grasp. 

“Hear me out, okay?” You bite your lip, waiting for his confirmation and continuing when he tilts his head slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot- the whole week actually. I think I’ve made so much progress with you, and I know this is our last week,” You aren’t holding back, and no matter how much your body screams to do so you don’t look away from him. “And I don’t need an answer right away, it’s sort of a big deal so-“ 

“Spit it out.” He cuts you off, his puzzled look now replaced with one of nervousness, eyes wide as he looks directly into your eyes. 

“Levi, please will you be my coach?” You say it, finally able to catch your breath from the combination of sprinting after Levi and rambling with no breaths in between. “Like my real coach, after we finish therapy.” 

Levi stares at you, his jaw slack. He almost looked.. appalled? You wish you knew exactly what’s going through his mind. 

“I know it’s a huge request, like I said. Think about it.” You try. “I think we could take gold, really-“ 

“No.” Levi turns his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Like he is physically unable to look at you. Time stands still, this is by far the worst case scenario that you feared. 

“Wait..” You say in a hushed tone. 

“The answer’s no.” He confirms, lips parted slightly like he wants to say more but nothing comes out. He takes a step back. “Just..I’ll see you Wednesday.” With that he turns completely and walks out, leaving you behind.

Taglist: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @humanitys-strongest-bamf @hideandgopeep 

@thechaoticarchivist @sixpennydame @saccharine-nectarine @martins-rx 

@levisbrat25 

[silverynight]

Addiction

One thing he didn't know about Fushiguro was that despite his cold demeanor, the boy was actually very physically affectionate. Right now they're sitting on Yuuji's bed and Fushiguro has his arms around the pink haired boy's waist. Yuuji can feel the other's cheek on his shoulder, but it doesn't bother him at all.

Although Yuuji hasn't seen him do that with anyone else, but it's not like he's with him all the time.

"Are you still with me?" Yuuji asks after a couple of seconds of complete silence; he doesn't mind it, but right now they're supposed to be studying for their finals.

"I'm not asleep if that's what you're asking," Fushiguro grumbles back, nuzzling against Yuuji's shoulder.

"So if you're trapped in a place that doesn't let you get out, that makes you walk the same hallway over and over... how do you break that type of curse?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, he doesn't like to make calculations; most of the time he punches his way out of any situation.

Finals are the worst. Can't they just send them to different missions instead of making them use their brains to solve something that isn't actually happening to them?

"You're pouting, Itadori," Fushiguro tries to look serious, but Yuuji notices the amusement in his eyes when he turns his head around. "Too difficult for you?"

"Shut up, Fushiguro!" Yuuji chuckles, trying to push his friend away. However, the dark haired boy just growls and tightens his grip on Yuuji's waist. "Come on, solve it!"

Before he can do that though, Kugisaki rushes into the room like it's her own. She rolls her eyes as soon as she notices their sitting positions on the bed.

"You should knock before you walk into a room, you know?" Yuuji scolds her, although it's mostly to bother her because he actually doesn't mind.

"Tch! It's not like I walked in on you two having sex or anything, calm down!" Kugisaki says, making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Why would we be having sex?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, as Fushiguro chokes next to him. He hasn't moved from his side though, not even after Kugisaki arrived.

"It doesn't matter because you two are going to go shopping with me!"

Fushiguro growls, but Yuuji perks up immediately because he's tired of studying; he needs a break.

Yes, they end up carrying most of Kugisaki's stuff, but Yuuji doesn't mind at all. However, Fushiguro keeps one of his hands free the whole time so he can grab Yuuji's waist.

He does that a lot lately. But it's fine, Yuuji doesn't mind and it seems to help him in social situations; Fushiguro doesn't like to be around people at all, it doesn't matter if they're complete strangers and they're not talking to him.

He hates crowded places.

"Hey, stay here with these while I take Itadori to the next store. I want his opinion on a dress I saw the other day."

Fushiguro doesn't seem to like the idea to be out there on his own, but he eventually nods a lets go of Yuuji.

"Jeez, it's like he's glued to you today," Kugisaki rolls her eyes after walking into the store with Yuuji. "I knew he had it bad, but this is a little bit too much."

Yuuji is not exactly sure what she's talking about, but he supposes it's about their friend.

"He's a little bit clingy now, but maybe it's because during our last mission the three of us almost died..."

"And he's afraid of losing you," Kugisaki cuts him off, surprising him.

"It's not just me–"

"It looks like he's addicted to you now," she says, looking around the store until she finds the light yellow dress with flowers; it's very cute.

"He's not!" Yuuji chuckles, having a hard time imagining Fushiguro getting addicted to something.

"I'm serious... He's in love with you, but in a weird way."

"What do you mean weird way?"

"A boy doesn't look at another boy like Fushiguro looks at you; it's like he is ready to marry you or something..."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about! We're just friends!"

"Sure, Itadori."

***

When they walk out, there's a girl with Fushiguro, curling up her own hair with her finger and smiling at him.

"Poor thing," Kugisaki snorts. "Thinking she has a chance. Although I must admit she's brave and very persistent because Fushiguro looks like he wants nothing more than for her to disappear."

Yuuji agrees that he looks certainly uncomfortable, although maybe it's just because the girl is not his type.

He considers for a moment making the same joke they did when Gojo was around, but he reminds himself that it seemed to make Fushiguro even more uncomfortable and embarrassed that time.

"Perhaps we should let him handle–"

"Fushiguro!" Kugisaki ignores the pink haired boy completely and waves her hand to catch his attention.

The other girl narrows her eyes, but Fushiguro looks absolutely relieved.

"I didn't know you had a girl–"

She shuts up as soon as Fushiguro walks towards Yuuji and wraps his arms around him, before burying his face in the curve of his neck; it makes Yuuji giggle.

"Uhh, hi, I'm Itadori..." it's too late; the girl is gone.

"You should buy a t-shirt that says 'no, thank you, I'm gay' and save the girls the trouble." Kugisaki chuckles.

"Are you gay, Fushiguro? I didn't know! Good for you, man!"

His friend has to move a few steps away from him in order to properly glare at him. Yuuji doesn't quite get it.

"You're an idiot, Itadori," he grumbles, cheeks turning slightly pink before he pulls a very confused Yuuji into his arms again.

The physical affection increases a lot after that.

It doesn't matter where they are, Fushiguro always manages to wrap himself around Yuuji. When the pink haired boy is watching a movie, lying on the couch, after a couple of minutes Fushiguro walks into the room and lies on top of him; he doesn't even bother to ask for permission.

Which is more than okay with Yuuji, they're friends after all, it doesn't matter what Kugisaki says.

However, even he finds it a little bit weird when Fushiguro starts holding his hand and intertwining their fingers together whenever they go out.

People start looking at them in a funny way, like that girl who was trying to flirt with Fushiguro before she found out he was gay.

When Fushiguro starts taking him to different places without Kugisaki and she outright tells Yuuji they're basically dating, he decides to finally ask him about it.

"Fushiguro," Yuuji mumbles, looking at their hands, feeling the warmth coming from his friend's skin and realizing that the waitress is treating them like a couple. "Are we dating?"

Choking on his coffee, Fushiguro stares at Yuuji before turning his head away and releasing Yuuji's hand. His cheeks have turned slightly pink.

"I'm sorry."

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but he realizes that he doesn't mind going on dates with Fushiguro, actually he's had so much fun and he finds him attractive.

"When you were planning to tell me?"

"I wanted to properly ask you out, but then the shopping center happened and you were so surprised after finding out I was gay I thought you were going to turn me down and I panicked. So I thought that maybe I could take you on a couple of dates and if you didn't like it you'd tell me to stop or to fuck off eventually."

Yuuji can't help but feeling charmed at Fushiguro's shy confession, he leans over the table and cradles his face.

"We can keep dating, but try to tell me what you want next time, okay?"

Fushiguro nods immediately, looking like he can't quite believe what's happening.

"You were sure I was going to turn you down or why are you–"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I thought you were straight."

"Oh," Yuuji moves back into his seat, but Fushiguro walks around the table to sit right next to him. "Well, I thought that too, but the truth is that I like you."

"Works for me." Fushiguro's voice sounds different this time. It almost like he's desperate, it makes Yuuji chuckle because he knows his friend is just being dramatic.

Right?

"Itadori, can I kiss you when we go back to our dorms?"

"Uhh, sure," Yuuji looks around and notices there are a lot of people in the cafeteria so it's probably a good idea to wait.

They still have lunch, but Fushiguro looks particularly impatient that day. It never occurs to Yuuji that it could be due to the promised kiss until they're back in jujutsu high and Fushiguro basically shoves him into his room and closes the door quickly.

"Hey, why are you–" lips crash into Yuuji's before he can even finish the sentence. A gentle hand cups the back of his head and pulls him closer.

Fushiguro kisses like he's starving and although the kiss is good it's a little bit overwhelming for Yuuji at first. When he feels a tongue sliding inside his mouth, he pushes his friend away gently.

"Calm down," he chuckles when Fushiguro chases his lips anyway. "I'm not going anywhere."

With his face completely red, Fushiguro nods before pulling Yuuji into a tight embrace and burying his face in the curve of his neck.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, just try to be gentle."

This time is Fushiguro the one who cradles his face and for the first time Yuuji looks into his blue eyes enough to notice the want and the need behind them; it sends a shiver through his spine but in a good way.

Sure, the kiss starts gentle and since Yuuji is prepared this time he kisses back and surrenders into it.

However, it quickly escalates to something more desperate and heated; Yuuji moans at some point and Fushiguro hums in approval before pushing him towards the bed.

"Wait. Slow. I want to go slow." He says, breathing heavily and blushing when he realizes Fushiguro eyes are a lot darker now.

"Okay."

They sit on the bed, cuddling and watching a couple of videos. It helps Yuuji's heart to calm down a bit.

"There's something you need to know about me, Itadori," Fushiguro says after a while.

"Yeah?"

"I'm very possessive." Fushiguro whispers, before pressing a soft kiss against his neck.

It's not his words, but the way he says them what makes Yuuji think that he might not survive this relationship. And yet, his heart is very happy at the moment.

***

Patreon

[letthewordsoverflow]

So I saw Anora two days ago and can't get this epilogue out of my head so just imagine this, directly following the end of the movie....

So Igor holds Anora in the car until she stops crying

then finally she gets up and then gets out of the car with a flippant joke about him zipping his dick back in "pervert"

then she takes a few steps back towards the house and then turns back and goes "well? Are you coming?"

So he goes from scrambling to zip up his pants to scrambling out of the car and following her inside

and then they go into the living room and her sister is there w her boyfriend sitting on the couch and shes just like "hey there's some lasagna in the kitchen"

so he follows anora into the kitchen (he'd follow her anywhere) and they get lasagna and they go to join her sister and her bf in the living room to watch the movie and they're cuddled on one side of the 3 seater and anora sits against the other arms so there's space in between but it'd be tight so he sits in the arm chair next to the couch

and they eat their food and are watching and he's super aware of her but definitely NOT looking at her (okay but only from the corner of his eye and she DEFINITELY cannot tell)

at some point she lets out a frustrated sigh and stands up and comes to sit in his lap and cuddles into him

eventually she falls asleep there, with her head curled under his chin, and she stays like that for a long time

he considers asking her sister for a throw blanket but then they get up and go into one of the two bedrooms down the hall

He waits a while longer, just holding her. Shes safe. And she's in his arms.

If you had asked him what he expected from being 30 three days ago, it definitely would not be this. But this, this is so much better.

He stands up and takes her to her room and sets her down in her bed and he moves her hair out of her face and just gazes at her for a second

He moves to leave but she groggily reaches out her arm and says "stay"

so he kicks off his shoes, climbs into bed, and just holds her while they sleep.

and she actually sleeps through the night instead of getting up to work (at some point he woke up to piss and he gently pushed her to ask and she was not pleased about the disruption because she "needs some fuckin rest after the last 48hours")

they wake up the next day at like noon (early for her, late for him)

So they wake up and just look at each other for a moment and then he asks "may I kiss you?" And she says "but I have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she says "you have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she nods, not breaking eye contact but clearly a little bashful at the vulnerability

and theyre kissing and then they're making out and at some point he pulls away and moves to just hold her and shes like "do you...not want to?"

And he goes "I want to, we just don't have to. I'm happy like this." and he cuddles her closer

and she smiles to herself and hides he face into his chest for a moment

but then she moves to straddle him and goes "what if I want to?" And he goes "whatever you want" in the tone that says 'you can have whatever you want and we never have to do anything you don't want' and seeing the sentiment echoed in his eyes has her kissing him with all she's worth (which a lot in his estimation)

and then theyre getting all hot and heavy and she takes off his shirt and moves to take off his pants

when she realizes he's still wearing his jeans so of course she gives him shit for that (but he wasn't going to climb into her bed in his underwear without her go ahead so he just takes her teasing)

and they laugh together as they keep making out and shedding clothes and then she moves to touch him (like she did in the car, but this time it was about him)

He stops her and he asks if he can do something

and she says sure

so he flips them so she's on her back (she knew he was strong, he threw her around a whole bunch not two days ago, but it was different to have him move her like that....it did it for her honestly)

he moves to go eat her out and she starts to stammer that he doesn't need to do that and he says "what if I want to"

like she said before

and then he goes at it for a nice long time

And he makes her cum

like HARD

and so shes like "I finished," meaning to say 'okay cool now im taken care of so over to fucking so you can get off' (that's just how sex works, right) and hes like "who said i am?"

And then keeps at it, making her orgasm a few more times before he even lets her touch his dick

(she can't even recall the last time a guy she was with got her off)

so she's like on cloud nine when she's finally like "stop stop"

he pulls back IMMEDIATELY and asks if she's okay and if he did something wrong

she says no, she's just over sensitive and then next time she cums she would really like if he was inside her

so then he smiles and moves up her body, kissing her along the way, to get into position

and he kisses her (she loves the taste of herself on him) and then asks if she has a condom

she says she does "but....also....we don't need to use one of you don't want to"

hes very confused

so she gets nervous and starts to ramble about how she always ALWAYS uses protection w clients and she gets tested all the time and knows shes clean (to which he says "me too") and she has an iud but its also totally cool if he wants one because she has been w a lot of partners (bc she assumes he doesn't bc of a judgement for her profession)

meanwhile hes just confused bc it didnt even ocurr to him she may want that

so he asks what she wants and she says no condom (which is kinda the biggest display of trust and intimacy she has bc she is METICULOUS about protection) (even w Ivan who, she was seeing exclusively for what is a long time in her book, she always made him use a condom)

so then they have sex

and he hits a smooth slow wave of a rhythm that really works for her

and he uses one hand to support himself over her and his other to rub her clit

and he just keeps looking at her

and the eye contact and the intimacy are too much and she cums

She cums a lot

and only then does he finally start to lose his rhythm until he's moaning into her neck as he cums

And then he rolls off her and she must be the sappiest bitch in Brooklyn because she misses having him inside her

And then he is just lying next to her breathing heavily for a moment before he quickly gets up and puts on his pants and walks out

and she feels like she must have whiplash bc they were just so intimate (more intimate than she's been with a guy in.... god she doesn't want to think of how long it's been like this)

and he's just gone

like every other guy

maybe this was all just a good fuck to him

Maybe he saw the opportunity to fuck the sex worker, knew it'd be a good time, and now he was done

she's working herself up, even though a whispering voice in the back of her mind kept saying he couldn't have gone far without shoes....or a shirt....or his phone and car keya....

by the time he comes back and shes convinced herself that he was using her and she shouldn't have let him in or trusted him or slept in his arms all night

So she starts to yell at him, which she certainly has a talent for

At first he's confused but he slowly approaches her and sits on the edge of the bed

and he looks down at his hand and then at her, asking for permission

and only then she realizes he came back with a glass of water and a warm damp towel - to clean her up, she realizes as he gently and methodically starts to clean her thighs

she sips at the cool water he handed her as she watches him slowly tend to her

then he sets the towel and glass down (after taking a sip himself... somehow his swallow was a turn on? What is happening to her?)

and he takes is jeans back off and climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers up over them and pulls her to his chest until they both fall back to asleep.

Later he drives her to work at the strip club, kisses her goodbye, and says he'll pick her up later.

As he watches her walk into HQ he can't help but think how much his grandmother is going to love her.

[palenutbasement]

(all scenes are depicted as platonic)

So every Inktober I try to do something more challenging, and this year I thought I would make a short comic/fanfic. I think I got the idea for this one a year ago but I was already wrapped up with another Inktober. Eventually I solidified the idea by making my own prompt list some time ago.

This comic is split into three parts with 10 days focusing on each of them, 30 in total, everything is compiled here. I wanted to post them after October in case I wanted to change anything.

This first part takes place in the summit.

The comic is basically all improvised, that means no planning for the composition, plot, or sketching any drawings. The most planning I did was write a few scripts ahead of time within the month to save me some time but most of them would be changed last minute anyways.

As for the plot, I won't go too deep into it because I don't want to talk too much, so you'll just find commentary on the making of the comic and stuff.

This first part is a little gimmick-y compared to the next two, with new elements appearing almost every day. It’s because I relied a lot on the prompts (dog, milk, etc.) to keep things happening, eventually I move further away from them.

What is surprising to me is how much the art changes as the days go by especially within the span of one month. I did refine a few things to keep it more consistent but this is nearly indistinguishable from the original drawings.

I should also mention that my favourite aspect of this project was adding references to the game and subtle details (if you can find it all, awesome!!) This may have been done quickly but I like to have those things and put at least a bit of effort into the dialogue.

Part 2

Eventually I figured that drawing the same setting for 30 days straight would drive me insane, hence why this comic is split like it is. I’m glad I did because it makes the story a little more interesting, seeing the characters have different attitudes in different places and whatnot.

This one takes place in the cave directly after pt 1. Admittedly I do better drawing outdoor settings, it's what I'm used to, but the cave wasn't so bad to figure out.

I remember these two days I was streaming drawing the comic to my friends, so I kinda zoned out while we were talking lol

One of the prompts was about napping, so I made Dwarf sleep. I believe I was tired that day too and it was therapeutic to draw and include that. Also they look cute, I think.

18 & 19 have some of my favourite drawings in the comic. The campfire lighting is what we'd get if I had a bit more energy each day, and I like the perspective in the first panel of 19.

I find this last section interesting, because of all the 30 days, it’s the only one in Dwarf’s POV. I felt like it was fitting to do something like that at the time.

Part 3

Since we were approaching Halloween, I wanted to have a special part for it. It’s related to the other two parts but it takes place some time after. I’m really sorry it’s out of season, if it were up to me I would have had this post out earlier (thank my midterms for the delay)

Out of all the other parts this one is my favourite. Maybe because it’s more recent I’m inclined to think that way but it has some of my fave moments that I've written here.

Other than that I don't have much commentary for this part. More thoughts at the end!

I was caught up everyday atp, but I didn’t have much spare time to prepare for the ending (I wrote it the morning of that day). I think this is a decent conclusion though.

I intend on coming back to this story, maybe next year to make a continuation but we'll see what happens. There are definitely things that I want to come back to someday.

Thank you for making it this far btw. It's been an eventful month for me beyond this (Untitled) comic, but there wasn't a single aspect of this that I didn't enjoy doing. It's a silly project and I care about it.

Also, I'm not going to neglect the 31st of October! That day will get an illustration, where I will pick my favourite panel and redraw it. I want to take my time with this one so it's not out yet, but hopefully I can finish by Christmas.

[candycandy00]

Teaser for Once Upon a Time - Choso x Reader (as Rapunzel):

Just a little teaser for the first chapter! I expect to have the full chapter up in a few days!

**********

You bend down to pick some of the herbs you just found, carefully placing them in your basket. These will be perfect for several different medicines you make for the other villagers. You can’t believe what a treasure trove you’ve found. How have you never seen this place before?

The basket is feeling heavy on your arm by the time you finish, but you’re so happy with what you’ve gathered that you don’t mind the extra weight. You pick one last handful and turn to head back through the woods and to the village.

That’s when you see him. A pale man dressed in black, dark hair pulled into strange ponytails on each side of his head. He’s standing directly in your path.

“Why are you in my garden?” he asks. His tone is curious, not accusatory.

You freeze in place. This is a garden? And it belongs to him? You dip your head in a slight bow. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize this was your garden. I picked a lot of your herbs,” you say, holding out your basket. “Would you like to keep them?”

He stares into your basket, then at your face. “What do you want herbs for?”

“I make medicines,” you tell him. “Tonics, ointments, all sorts of things.”

He’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Could you make some for me?”

“Of course,” you say, happy that he’s apparently going to let your accidental theft slide. “What kinds do you need?”

“Something for scrapes and cuts. I have three little brothers and they’re always getting hurt while playing in the woods.”

You smile. “Alright. I’ll make some and bring them back to you, as a thank you for the herbs.” You glance around the forest. “Where is your house?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, as if reluctant to reveal where he lives. You’re just about to offer to meet him here in a few days when he turns and begins walking through the woods. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

You tag along behind him, waiting for a house to come into view. You really didn’t know anyone lived out here. But instead of a house, he leads you to a clearing with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it.

“You live here?” you ask, using your hand to block the sun as you squint upwards, trying to see how high it goes.

It’s made of stone, gray in color except for a deep red door and matching red shudders all the way up at the top. A window? But why so high? The grass around the tower is thick and unkempt, wild rose bushes climbing the sides, going at least thirty feet up. Red and white roses are blooming beautifully, making the tower look like something from a dream.

When you step closer, you notice there are black roses blooming here and there. What an unusual color!

The man opens the red door, made of heavy wood, and motions for you to come inside.

You follow in behind him, finding a living area with chairs, a fireplace, a rug, and a desk. Off to the side is a cozy little kitchen with a stove and a small table with four chairs crowded around it.

“Do you live here by yourself?” you ask, looking around.

He looks at you with a slightly confused expression. “No, I have three little brothers, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, I forgot.”

But the tower doesn’t look like three kids live in it. Things are too neat and orderly, and there’s only one place setting on the table. Maybe they’re just very well behaved.

He notices you glancing around and says, “They’re out gathering wood for the fire right now. They’ll be home soon.”

You nod, then look straight up. “What’s up there?”

He follows your line of sight, tilting his head up. “A couple of bedrooms shared between us,” he answers. “This used to be a watch tower during the war. My brothers and I found it abandoned a few years ago and moved in.”

“That was fortunate,” you say. “I bet they love playing in this tower.”

He smiles, the expression lighting up the room. He has a really nice smile. “Yes, they love it here.”

You smile back, then start toward the door. “I’ll make some medicines for you and come back in three days. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

As you step outside, you turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves back, and you leave. Walking back through the woods, you half expect to run into his little brothers, laughing and playing. But you never see another soul until you reach the village.

[breakfastatmiles]

Your art is wonderful!!!

A constant inspiration to my own creativity and art work. Could you explain some of your art style to me? I’m interested in looking at a bunch of different ones to try and finally find one for me.

Goodnight!!🌙

Thank you so much! That means the world to me! I’d be happy to share some of my process with you 😄

Keep in mind I’m completely self-taught, so this is just the process of how I make my drawings and not any sort of professional advice 😅 apologies for the long post ahead 😪

Starting with the basics, my biggest influences are Jin Kim and Ami Thompson. Both are amazing character designers and I really admire their stylization and expressions. Whenever I feel stuck on something, I always go back to their drawings for inspiration.

I typically start in Procreate with a canvas size of 3300px x 4200px or 11” x 14” with a DPI of 300.

I put my reference in the corner of the canvas (in this case it’s a screenshot from the movie She’s the Man) and I start my rough sketch (emphasis on rough). Sketching is probably the longest part in my drawing process because I’m focusing on expression, composition, proportions, etc. This usually has about two to three passes before I move on.

Then I lower the opacity of the sketch and clean it up with some lineart on a new layer. Lineart doesn’t play a huge part in my style, but I still like to play around with line weight. Since I knew this was going to be a fully rendered piece, I didn’t spend much time on lines that I knew were going to be removed later in the process.

Underneath all of that, I use the skin tone and color the base of the character. I make sure that I color ever so slightly past the lineart, for reasons that will be important later. This part can be tedious, especially because I use a textured brush, so there are a lot of gaps that I fill in later.

Then using new layers with clipping masks, I start the flat colors. Nothing too crazy here.

I’ve made color palettes for characters and backgrounds that I typically draw, so this way it speeds up the process and maintains style consistency. If I need a color that I don’t normally use, I’ll just play around with the colors until I find something that fits well with everything else.

Next, on a multiply layer, I add some basic shading (with the skin tone color) and blush (with an orange-pink color). I also move onto the background. Some are more complex than others. If I’m going for a more cinematic look, I’ll fill the background in with some basic shapes and blur it slightly. Thankfully the background was pretty simple in this reference.

I start checking proportions now that everything has basic colors. Then I duplicate my lineart layer and change it to a pinkish-red and put it on multiply mode and turn down the opacity. This is why the base color layer needs to line up with the lineart, otherwise there’d just be gaps underneath. Instead of erasing my black lineart layer, I put a mask on it and just keep the eyes and eyebrows.

Then I start working on the shading and hair, which is an entire process in itself. Maybe I’ll make a tutorial on that one day 😅

I also use some vivid light and soft light layers and put in some subtle colors for extra pizzazz.



Then I add a hard light layer to the eyes for that glossy look and on a normal layer add some white details just to make some things pop more (like the nose, lips, eyes, sometimes hair, etc.)

I did make an eye tutorial a while back, but my process is still the same!

Lastly, I spend a lot of time playing with different blending modes (multiply, add, soft light, vivid light layers) and really focus on the lighting. I used to focus on adding a lot more details and make the coloring more realistic, but I found that the more simplistic coloring was easier for me to do and fit my style better. Sometimes I still tend to go too far with the details and realize that it looks better when I tone it down a bit.

That’s pretty much it! Let me know if you have any questions! Hope this helps. Have fun making art!

[t1oui]

i will never get tired of toxic bartylus that leads to jegulus & rosekiller (but reg and barty are still best friends ofc).

like -

bartylus who get together because barty is head-over-heels in love with regulus and regulus is bored and wants a boyfriend. it's nobody's fault it goes sideways, really - they just don't feel the same way about each other. barty wants to be with regulus and regulus has other stuff to do. they fight, they kiss, it doesn't make things better but they pretend it does. all their friends are worried. they ignore it.

finally, regulus breaks up with barty. he knows how bad it's gotten, sees the concern on pandora and dorcas's faces every time they're together, knows barty will never break it off himself. barty doesn't come out of his bed for three days, but reg knows it's for the best.

they're fourteen then.

when regulus is fifteen, he starts dating james potter. everyone sees the hurt on barty's face at first. regulus tries his best to ignore it. they don't talk for a few months after james and reg's first date.

and regulus? he's happy, of course, but he keeps expecting it to get worse. to start hurting. after he and james have their first fight he avoids james like the plague because he's too scared of what happens after - the pain, the silence, the growing hatred. he thinks he's right when james corners him, visibly angry. thinks of all the things he can yell back to defend himself, thinks of all the insults he can use to cut deep. but then james says he was worried, says he wants to talk, and regulus is surprised. he and barty rarely talked.

eventually, he stops expecting it to get worse or to start hurting. he doesn't know why it was so bad with barty, but he knows now that james is it for him. he and barty are talking again.

when regulus and barty are seventeen, james and pandora and evan are already graduated, and it's just them and dorcas. barty does a lot of thinking that year.

seeing regulus and james has made him, too, wonder what went wrong with him and regulus. it must be his fault, barty thinks, if regulus can go and move on with someone else.

at the end of the year, james picks regulus up at platform 9 3/4. evan picks up barty. barty thinks he knows, all of the sudden, what he needs to do if he wants to be happy.

their first kiss is in july. evan intertwines their fingers and presses their foreheads together when it's over. barty made the right choice.

he wonders, for a little while, if it will begin to hurt, if he's repeated the mistake of falling in love with someone who doesn't feel the same way. but evan seeks barty out just as often as he seeks out evan, and he smells like flowers and tastes like the meadow they first kissed in. he leans on barty and pulls him close and whispers snarky comments in his ear, and barty knows there's no one else for him.

regulus and barty are best friends again. they're both happy. love doesn't hurt anymore.

[eand47]

Chapter III | Don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid (more to be add)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of weed, explicit language, sexual content, MINORS INTERACT ON YOUR OWN RISK (16+)

Word Count: 12,9K

<- previous chapter

NOTE: This chapter contains a lot of dialogues. More characters are being properly introduced. I don’t want to rush things between Reader and Ace as obviously by now it is a slow-burn story, but from this chapter on you will have more and more interaction between them. I still don’t want to let you entirely into Ace’s mind, as with time all of the things he does and says will have more logic as of why, I just hope that you will be patient enough until then. I’m sure a lot of you might have expected a smut for this chapter, but you will be disappointed, as we are far away from one at least for now xD. Please feel free to leave comments about how you feel about the story and the characters relationship. Also if you enjoy the way I write always feel free to request an image, one-shot or a headcanon and if I have the time I would love to write it <3 I really hope you enjoy the chapter ^^

“You were right about the picture for the exercise.” Usopp exclaimed when we were leaving class.

“I guess it is the same every year.” We were going to grab a lunch, as our lunchbreak started.

“Are we going back after?” he asked me. It was only him and I here from our assign group, everyone else was sick or not at university today, even Nami.

“Yes, I was going to ask you the same.” I thought for a second if we should go back or call the rest of the day off. We were not having any class with a teacher after, but we were supposed to start writing the story for the exercise today. “Let’s stay and do the story, as we can’t know who is coming tomorrow, and I don’t want to waste time, as we should be done with it by Friday morning.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” He agreed with me, opening the door to the cafeteria and letting me go first. “But what if they don’t like what we come up with?”

“Then they should have been here.” I snorted out. We grabbed some food and sat down in one of the corner tables. Usopp yawned, he locked so tired today.

“All good with you? You look so tired.” I asked him concerned. “Please, don’t get sick and leave me here alone.” I whined and he chuckled at my reaction.

“No, I’m not getting sick. Don’t worry.” He reassured me. “I just had so many things to do over the weekend and didn’t have much time to spend with Kaya, so I tried to make it up to her last night, and I’ve slept for like three-four hours.” He explained, running a hand over his face, trying not to fall asleep.

“Oh, you were making it up to her.” I tease him, wiggling my eyebrows playfully.

“Shut up.” He shushed me, throwing a napkin towards me as I was messing with him.

“What were you busy with this weekend?” I took a bite of my food, curios at what he had done over the weekend that took so much of his time and energy.

“First, I had to go back to my hometown. My mom needed help with moving and selling some old furniture, we had around the house.” He took a bite of his own food. “Then when I came back Luffy’s brothers called me and wanted my help for a song they are releasing at the end of this week.” A little smile twitched on my lips as he mentioned the guys, Ace’s face appearing on my mind. “But something happened with the program we were using for the final touches, so long story short, it took my whole day to restore the files. Ah, anyway how about you?” He brushed it off, not really in the mood to talk about it.

“Nothing interesting. I barely left my place; I was watching movies and napping.” I shrugged. My weekend was quite boring this passed week. Especially the day after I worked at the bar. Shanks made me stay extra time to help around cleaning. Speaking of Shanks, his words about Ace haven’t left my mind, neither did Ace. I caught myself thinking about him from time to time and the little interaction we had.

“Oh, I’m so jealous.” Usopp whined, interrupted my thoughts. He slouched his body on the table, crying for sleep.

“Come one let’s get you some coffee from somewhere.” I cooed, patting his head, making him get up from the chair.

“I’m telling you I almost fall asleep during class.” He stretched his body, trying to wake it up.

We took our stuffs and went to grab some coffee, from the near by cafe. Waiting on the queue to get coffee, we were discussing our project.

“Think about it – a tour in a medieval museum.” Usopp suggested, but I was still not convinced enough.

“I don’t know, I think quite lot of people have already thought of this.”

The weather was quite chilly today. I couldn’t stop shivering, but Usopp didn’t seem affected by it as he was wearing just a green hoodie.

“Yes, but we don’t need the most original idea.” He was right about this. We needed something simple as we were not sure if everyone from our group would be here for the rest of the week.

“How about a man who has nightmares of being tortured in his dreams, and he is calm at first, only to realise that this is actually real this time.” I suggested, as I was sure no one would think of it.

“Good idea, but...” Usopp paused looking at me. “Mine is better.” We said together, laughing at our inside joke. “Let’s get the coffee, and we will decide when we go back. You want one as well? He asked me as it was his turn to order. I needed something warm to drink, so I accepted his offer. He bought me one and I thanked him. As we were walking to one of the sound rooms in school, we saw a big poster hanged on one of the walls.

“Look, they are having a Halloween party this week in here.” I excitedly turned to look at Usopp. “I have lost track of time so bad I have forgotten that Halloween is this week. We should go!”

“Oh God, I forgot to tell you.” Usopp slapped his forehead. “Luffy told me to invite you to the party his brothers are throwing for Halloween. So, we are going to that one and you are coming with us!” He pointed his finger at me, letting me know that he would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

“But I have met them only once, Usopp. I will feel awkward just standing there not knowing anyone, at least here I know people.” I looked at the Halloween poster again. Here I have classmates that I know, even thought they were not as close to me as Nami and Usopp, it still will be less uncomfortable and awkward to be around them.

“What do you mean, you don’t know anyone there?” Usopp grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “You know me, Nami and the rest of the group now. Luffy told me to invite you himself. On top of it you know his brothers and the rest of the band.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we started to walk down the corridor. “Come on, Kaya is also going to be there. You will be surrounded by people who you know.” We entered the sound studio, leaving our bags on the side and taking seat on the chairs. “Come on (Y/N), that party will be ten times better than the one here.” He nagged me.

“Look I will think about it, okay? But no promises.” I tried to negotiate with him.

“Nah, I’m not taking a ‘no’ for an answer.” He wasn’t planning on giving up. “I’m letting Nami know, I’m too soft.” He pulled out his phone and started to text Nami.

“No, Usopp stop!” I grabbed the phone from his hands. “I will think about it – I promise.” I put his phone on the desk. “I will see, I might don’t go to neither of the parties, as I totally forgot that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have any costume.”

“Nah, that’s it I’m letting Nami know.” He grabbed his phone from the desk again and I just gave up arguing about it. “Done – I sent her a message.” Putting his phone away, he looked at me seriously. “You gonna see, you will have a lot of fun, I promise you.” He winked. “Now back to work.” He clapped his hands, and I rolled my eyes at him.

Halloween is my favourite day of the year – of course I want to dress up and go to party somewhere. Especially the one I got invited to just now. Even without nagging me, I knew that Usopp was right. The problem wasn’t the party, it was the fact that Ace would be there. I wanted to meet him again, but I was also nervous. We have barely spoken, but there was something luring me towards him – something that I couldn’t put my fingers on what it was. It was more than the way he looks that was for sure. I really wanted to get the chance of knowing him. He might turn out like the other guys I have met before – a pretty face and nothing more, but I can’t know until we get to know each other. Just thinking about him made me both excited and nervous.

“Earth to (Y/N).” Usopp waved his hand in my face, bringing me back to reality. “You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I took out my laptop so we can start writing the script. “So, we are going with my idea, right?” I glanced at Usopp.

“Mine is better but, sure.”

*******

I opened the fridge and sighed deeply, seeing that I have nothing left in it. I hesitated for a second if I should order or go to the store. I needed to buy food anyway, so I grabbed my headphones, my keys and left.

The store was ten minutes walk away from my apartment. I was taking my time wandering through the aisles, it’s not like I had anything to do at home. Passing by the cereals I saw a familiar face. I wasn’t sure if I should go and greet him or not, as we have only met once, but he saw me anyway.

“(Y/N)” Luffy greeted me with a smile, taking his headphones off and I did the same.

“Hey Luffy, nice to see you again.” I smiled at him.

“Yeah, nice to see you as well. How are you?” He asked me.

“I’m good, a little tired from uni, but good.” I chuckled. “How about you?”

“Same.” He shrugged. “Going over to my brother Ace to play some games but stop to buy some snacks.” My body got goosebumps when he mentioned his brother’s name. I looked at the basket in his hands and it was overfloating with snacks.

“Damn, that’s a lot of snacks, are you throwing a party?” I joked.

“Nah, just us two but we eat for like ten people.” We both laughed at his joke. I took a better look at Luffy and noticed how much he and Ace look alike.

“Well, he better lives close by, so you don’t need to carry all of this.” I casually said, but I was curious if by any chance we might end up being neighbours.

“Oh, I wish Ace lived this close by but no, I will have to catch the metro to get to his place.”

“What are you doing in this part of town then?” I asked.

“I live here, my place is exactly next to the supermarket.”  

“Nice, we are almost neighbours.” I exclaimed.

“Cool.” Luffy smiled. “By the way, did Usopp told you about the party this Friday?” He got excited mentioning the party.

“Yeah, he did today, but I’m not sure if I will come.” I awkwardly smiled at him.

“What? Why? No!” He was not happy with my answer. “What do you mean, you are not sure if you should come? You are coming! You, see? Easy, peasy.” He bumped his fist on my shoulder, a grin spread across his face.

“As I said to Usopp – I will think about it.” I mocked his gestured.

“Ouch, you are strong.” Luffy massaged his shoulder, pretending to be hurt. “But come on, there isn’t much to think of it, plus if you really don’t like it, you can leave any time you want.” This was the second time we meet, but talking with him felt so natural – his friendly and carefree persona could make everyone feel safe and relaxed around him.

“We will see, Luffy.” He rolled his eyes at my response with a smile. “Well, I’m not gonna bother you any longer, as you have to go to your brother.”

“You are not bothering me at all, but yes I have to get going, as he has been waiting for me for at least two hours know.” He said it so casually like it was something that happens frequently. “But before you go, give me your Insta or something, we are practically neighbours, so we can go on a walk or hang out around someday.” He handed me his phone to put my Instagram on it.

“Of course, we should definitely do this.” I quickly typed my Instagram and followed myself. “Here you go.” I handed the phone back to him.

“Nice, see you around then.” He smiled at me one more time before he went away. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to accept his request and followed him back.

********

The doorbell rang like crazy; someone was playing with the bell on purpose to annoy Ace. Ace paused the game he was playing and got up to open the front door of his flat.

“Luffy.”  He yelled at his brother, pulling him inside as he locked Luffy’s head between his arm and body and started to ruffle his hair. No matter how old Luffy gets in Ace’s eyes he will always remains his little brother, for whom he has unconditional love.

“Uh Ace, stop that.” Luffy tried to escape his brother’s death grip, only to drop the bags he was caring on the ground. “Stop it, I’m not a kid anymore.” He protested, poking on his brother’s side making him release his grip.

“Yes, you are.” Ace bumped Luffy’s shoulder laughing at his reaction. Ace picked up the bags, from the floor to leave them on the kitchen counter. “What took you so long again?” He shouted from the kitchen, while Luffy was taking his shoes off.

“Nothing.” Luffy went straight to the living room, sitting on the sofa and grabbing one of the controllers. “I went to buy snacks and then I saw (Y/N), and we chitchat for a bit.”

“(Y/N)? Shanks’ niece?” Ace sat next to him, grabbing his own controller. Luffy nodded in response. “You know her?” His curiosity piqued. Until that night he didn’t even know that Shanks has a niece. Ace glanced at his brother who had his eyes focused entirely on the new game they started.

“Nah, I met her last Friday, when you were playing.” Luffy casually answered.

“Did you know that Shanks has a niece?” Ace asked; knowing that his brother won’t get suspicious at all at such question.

“Yeah, I was aware of that, but I had never met her before. She is also Nami and Usopp’s classma- YES!” Luffy yelled as he won the round. “She is cute, tho.” This caught Ace by surprise.

“Oh, is she?” His whole attention now on his brother. “Having a crush, hu?” The tone in his voice slightly changed. Luffy glanced at Ace for a second, shaking his head.

“Hell, no! Not like that cute” He exclaimed loudly. “I’m not crossing that line, there.” He shook his head in fear. “I don’t know which would be scarier – Nami killing me for hitting on her friend or Shanks breaking my neck if it even crosses my mind.” Ace just snorted at his brother’s reaction; even thought he remembered the way Shanks eyes warned him in the club when he interrupted their conversation. Not like it was going to stop him, but he did get the warning.

“I invited her to the Halloween party, by the way.” Luffy added, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Is she coming?” Ace attention taken away from the game when Luffy blurted that you were invited.

“She said that she is not sure, yet. But knowing Nami she won’t have much of a choice and she will come.” Luffy chuckled, thinking of Nami and how insistent she could be if she wants too. Ace smiled to himself. “What you smilin’ at?” Luffy interrupted his thoughts.

“At the fact that I’m beating your ass in this game.” Ace quickly lied; his attention directed fully on the screen now.

“Beating my ass? You haven’t won a single round since I came here.” He bumped Ace’s shoulder.

“No, I just let you win.” Ace laughed.

********

I got home and prepared myself a quick meal. I sat down to eat while scrolling on my phone. I saw that Luffy has posted a story and clicked on it – a picture of a TV screen with a game on it with a caption ‘Beat his ass’ and under it he had mentioned Ace’s profile. I paused the story for a second, before clicking on the mentioned button. Ace’s profile was public, and I stalked him for a little bit. He didn’t have much posted – four main posts and some highlights. He didn’t really had pictures of himself alone. His main posts were two pictures with him and his brothers, one from some music festival he had been too, and the fourth one was a picture of their EP album’s cover. His highlights were mostly of the band making music. The profile picture he had was nice – a black and white photo with his right-side profile, a hat was hanging on the back of his bare shoulders revealing his messy black hair and the red beams neckless around his neck. He was handsome to look at. A little blush appeared on my cheeks as I started to think about him again. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I saw Nami’s name on the screen and I swiped to answer her.

“Hell-“

“Give me one good enough reason of why you don’t want to come to the party.” She wasted no time getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, (Y/N) hello to you as well, how are you doing?” I mocked her.

“Come on, you know why I’m calling.” She shushed me. “Please, come to the party it will be fun, I promise” At this point I started to get a deja-vu. She was the third person today who told me the exact same thing.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“So do I, we can go tomorrow after classes to search for something, we can even match.” She excitedly said.

“I don’t know Nami...why don’t you ask Vivi? You can match with her instead.”

“If I wanted to match with Vivi, I was going to speak with her now – not with you.” Nami responded to me sarcastically, and I could tell she probably rolled her eyes.

“Can’t I have some time to think about it fir-?”

“No!” She cut me off fast. “Because we don’t have much time to come up with the costumes.”

“We have like four days until Friday.” I groaned. This was starting to get annoying.

“Three.” She corrected me. “On top of it we have to think what we should match as and al-“

“Fine, fine – you know what fine.” I interrupted her. “I’m coming just so I don’t have to have this conversation again.” I sighed defeatedly. I removed the phone from my ear as Nami loudly squealed.

“I knew that you would say ‘yes’.” She mocked me, knowing that I got pissed at her.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

“Think of ideas for matching costumes so tomorrow after class we can go shopping.” She told me before ending the conversation.

I sighed looking back at my phone screen, still on Ace’s Instagram profile. A tingling feeling boiled up inside of me, knowing that we will probably see each other at the party. I left my plate in the sink and went to lay in bed. ‘Maybe going to the party will be fun after all.’ I thought to myself, a little smile on my face. My phone rang one more time, my dad’s picture popping up on the screen requesting to facetime me.

“How is my little girl doing?” His cheerful, loud as aways, voice filled up the room.

“Dad why is your hair blue again; I thought you outgrew your Emo period?” I mocked him. He got into colouring his hair a few years ago, and sometimes the colours were outrageous.

“To represent my sadness and sorrow, as my precious daughter haven’t called her dad for almost two weeks now.” He faked a cry. I playfully rolled my eyes at his little act.

“I’m sorry, I was just busy.” I did feel bad that I haven’t called him in such a long time. “How are you? I saw on your profile that you have sold out all the shows till the rest of the year.” A big grin on his face appeared as I mentioned this.

“Yes, can you believe it? Your old man is a star.” He raised his chin acting like a royalty.

“My old man is a diva, not a star.” I joked with him. “I’m proud of you dad, there is no better comedian than you.” I told him, as both my eyes and tone were filled up with love.

“Oh, baby girl – my biggest achievement is being your dad.” I could see his eyes tearing a little bit. I have always known that it was not easy at all for him to raised me alone, but I will forever be grateful for it. “Enough for me, now tell me; how is school going, any guy catching your eye?” He teased me.

“No, school is great, and no guy has caught my eye.” I lied, but the small smile and blush on my cheeks gave me away.

“Lier, lier, pants on fire.” He called out my little lie. “There is someone. Is it just a crush or something serious?” He wiggled his eyebrows to which I giggled.

“It’s nothing dad.” I tried to brush it off, as my face was burning hot.

“If it’s nothing then why blushing like that?” He mocked me. “Tell Buggy – who got his little girl heart swept away?”

“It’s really nothing, just some guy I met only once and we talked for like ten minutes at best, so it’s nothing.” It was nothing actually, Ace and I have barely spoken, I was just attracted to his charm, that is all – I thought to myself.

“Is he from your class?” Dad curiously asked me.

“No, he is not. But it turned out that he is a friend of my friends.”

“So, what now? Are you in a contact with him?” Growing up I didn’t have many friends, as I was quite a shy kid, but my dad was always there – till this day he was my best friend and I’ve always known that my secrets were safe with him. Talking about boys with him was nothing new, but still, this was the first time that I really felt awkward about it.

“No, but there is this party on Friday that he and his brothers are throwing, and I got invited.” I got flushed again.

“Did he invite you? Are you going?” He started to throw question after a question at me.

“No, his brother who is Nami and Usopp’s best friend told them to invite me, and they were not taking a ‘no’ for an answer, so – yes, I’m going.”

“Is he going to be there?” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing me.

“I hope so, yes.” I muttered.

“How did you meet?”

“The first time we met was at this coffee shop that I’ve told you about. I forgot my charger and saw that he had the same laptop as mine and I went to ask him if I can borrow it. Then he came and sat down with me, and we spoke for a little bit and then – omg dad you won’t believe it, he immediately got my ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ reference.” I excitedly said my eyes filled with sparkles, my dad smiling at my reaction. “And then the same night I was working at Shanks’ bar, and he was performing there, as he has his own band and they are so good by the way, and he is such a good singer, and yeah we met again, and we started to chitchat, but Shanks came and destroy everything as always.” I didn’t realise that I was blabbing. “So yeah, it’s nothing as I said.” I brushed it off.

“Baby girl.” He chuckled. “It is not nothing. You obviously have a crush on the guy.”

“No, dad I don’t. How could I? We have barely talked; he is just good looking and I’m bad at reading guys, you know this.” I shook my head, disagreeing with what he was saying.

“We are all attracted by looks first.” He scolded me. “But sometimes we don’t need much to like someone, especially with the enthusiasm you were telling me your little story it does sounds and looks like you have a crush on the guy – so go get him!” He encouraged me.

“Dad, you know as a father, you should be grumpy and unencouraging when your daughter has a crush not the opposite.” I chuckled.

“Ahaa you see you do have a crush on the guy.” He mocked me. “And when have I been like the other dads?” He asked me seriously. “Plus, I want to see you happy, baby girl.” His voice filled with love. “And also, when you were little, you promised me no boyfriends until you were sixteen, you are five years behind schedule – as much as I’m glad about this I think it’s time for you to experience love.” Even thought he was joking; I felt the hint of honestly behind his words.

“I’m doing pretty good on my own. I don’t need a boyfriend.” I pause for a second. “Plus, he is surrounded by girls, I told you he is the vocalist in their band, so I’m just you know...” I shrugged. “One of the many.” This was something I was trying to ignore thinking about. I was not blind or stupid – I saw how many girls went and hit on him and his bandmates after the show.

“Every man who chose another girl over you, my precious girl, will be the biggest fool the world will ever know.” He has always found ways to melt my heart.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too darling. Take care of yourself. Next time we speak you better have some update on your crush.” He pointed his finger at the camera.

“Yeah, sure dad. Bye.” I waved at him and ended the conversation.

I looked at the time and it was already 10:47PM, so I decided to get ready to sleep. I brushed my teeth and put some oversized t-shirt on and got into bed. Today was a very tiring day.

*******

The next day only – Nami, Usopp and I showed up from our group in university.

“Well, at least is the three of us.” I said as we were looking for the equipment we were going to use for the project.

“True, we don’t need anyone else.” Usopp agreed with me picking up a few microphones that we were going to need to record the sounds.

“Please repeat – so we are going to record some sounds from outside, and then the rest of the sounds that we will need, we record in the sound room?” Nami asked again, as she was still confused of what our plan exactly was.

“Exactly.” Usopp and I responded at the same time.

“Okay, do we have everything?” She asked as we looked around to see if we were missing something.

“No, I think we are good to go.” I replied taking one last look around the equipment room before we left.

We went to the park that was close by our university. Walking around, looking for an aera where there weren’t a lot of people around, took us some time. After thirty minutes we finally found a place.

“Okay so...” I clapped my hands getting their attention as they were carefully putting the equipment on the ground. “I will do the sound recording, one of you will need to do the sounds we need for it and the other just can just chill.” I quickly explained.

“I can do the sounds. Nami can rest.” Usopp said.

“Perfect. Help me just connect the mic to the boom pole.” I asked Nami for her help. We quickly fix the microphone and connected it to the audio recorder. “Say something.” I put the headphones on and started to adjust the sound and the frequencies. Nami started to talk to the microphone until I was satisfied with it.

“Okay, nice we are ready to start. Usopp please stand where the big pile of leaves is.” Usopp nodded at me and went to stand where I told him to. I went and crouched a little next to him. “I want you to start stepping heavy on the leaves first.” I instructed him. “Nami, do you want to call the slates?” I asked her with a smile, knowing how much she loves to do this.

“Of course I want.” She came closer to us and crouched to the microphone. “Quiet on set please! Sound?”

“Rolling.” I said.

“Scene one, take one – Action!” Nami said and Usopp started to step on the leaves as I’ve told him to. It took us an hour to record everything we needed. From the of sound the leaves to the sound of some birds flying by.

“That was fast.” Nami exclaimed.

“Of course, with a professional actor like me you didn’t even need more than two takes.” Usopp patted himself on the shoulders, for the job he had done. We laughed at him and his cockiness.

“Before we go let’s record one take of you screaming here, as in the sound room it will be way too clean.” I stopped them from putting the equipment back. “I just want to have a record from here, just in case.” They both agreed with me.  

I held the microphone up close to Usopp face ready to record. He was about to scream but Nami stopped us.

“Wait, I want to take video of this, I have a feeling I will regret it if I don’t.” She pulled her phone up and gave us the thumbs up to start recording. I nodded to Usopp to scream whenever he felt ready. I jumped out of surprise of how loud Usopp screamed and dropped for a second the boom pole, hitting him on the nose with the microphone, before I was able to catch it. I removed the headphones from my head as my ears hurt from the volume of the scream. Nami couldn’t stop laughing hysterically.

“Usopp, are you okay?” I placed my hand on hid shoulder as he was holding his nose.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay, what happened?” He looked at me confused.

“The headphones were on a full volume, and I didn’t realise it, and then you screamed so loud, I got startled, and the volume hurt my ears.” I explained. “I’m so, so sorry.” I apologised, feeling so bad that he was got hurt.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” He patted me on the shoulder reassuring me that everything was okay.

“Guys, guys.” Nami shouted running toward us. “Please, look at the video.” She couldn’t stop laughing. We looked at her phone and she pressed play. The video was hilarious – from the moment I almost dropped the microphone and my reaction, to the moment where it hit Usopp and he grabbed his nose. Even if we were planning to stage it wouldn’t have turned out this good and all three of us burst out laughing.

“This is hilarious.” Usopp fell to the ground holding his stomach unable to stop laughing.

“I’m posting this, I’m sorry guys but this has to be posted.” Nami opened her Instagram and posted the video on her story tagging Usopp and me. After we calmed down a little, we tried once again to record the scream, but this time without any headphones. We officially wrapped and went back to university.

******

“And it’s a wrap!” Nami announced once we were done recording in the sound room.

“I can’t believe we manage to do it in one day.” I was amazed by how fast we were moving on the project so far. “If we manage to edit it tomorrow, we will be free on Thursday, and just need to come on Friday morning for evaluations.”

“And then we go to party.” Usopp started to dance on his chair. “I can’t wait, you will never guess what Kaya and I are going to be dressed as.” He smirked at Nami and me.

“Like what? Super Mario and Princess Peach?” Nami raised her eyebrow.

“No, you wanna guess (Y/N)?” He spined on chair facing me.

“I-I don’t know. Barbie and Ken?” He shook his head ‘no’ at my guess. “Then?”

“Metro Boomin and Future.” He threw some gang signs at us, while Nami and I looked at each and burst out laughing.

“What? Why? How?” I was speechless. “How did you even come up with this?” I needed to know what born this idea in their minds.  

“Was it your idea Usopp? Oh, poor Kaya.” Nami huffed.

“Um, ladies – to your surprise it was not an idea that my mind came up with it, it was Kaya’s.” He raised his hands in the air like someone was pointing a gun toward him.

“I’m repeating (Y/N)’s question – how?” Nami asked him, we were both still in shock.

“She saw something in TikTok, some girl dressed as Future, and she sent it to me and said that she wants to be him for this Halloween, so I was okay I will be Metro then.” Nami and I looked at each other still a little confused then back at Usopp. “Why are you looking at me like this? At least our idea is original – who many other couples you know that will go as them?” He mocked us.

“Well, here you have a point.” I agreed with him. “You will definitely win most original couple costume of the night.” I mocked him.

“What are you two going to be? Do you plan to match?” He asked us.

“Well, we haven’t decided, yet.” I said.

“Something sexy for sure.” Nami winked, a smug smirk growing on her face. I looked at her knowing that she has had already something in mind.

“Oh no. You’ve already come up with something.” I was scared to ask what it was, as I had this feeling that I won’t like it.

“How about a dark and a light angle?” She suggested, looking at me expecting my reaction.

“Yeah...but no.” I shook my head not being very found of the idea.

“Why not?” She was surprised by my answer.

“It’s too basic, there will be at least four other girls dress the exact same way.” Last thing I wanted for Halloween was to wear a boring costume.

“Do you have anything better than that then?” I could see that she agreed with me on this.

“Actually, yeah. But I’m not sure if you gonna be down for it.” I smirked knowing that my idea was way better than hers. I took a dramatic pause before I tell her. “Donkey and Puss from Shrek, bam.”

“That is actually a super cool idea.” Usopp nodded at me, clearing liking my idea.

“As long as you are Donkey.” Nami pointed her finger at me, I laughed knowing that if she agreed I would have to be Donkey.

“Sure, I will be Donkey.”

“A sexy Donkey.” She winked at me, and I rolled my eyes at her.

We sat for a little bit more and chitchat while waiting for the recordings to save on my hard drive. Nami was on her phone and suddenly she burst out laughing. Usopp and I turned our heads towards her wondering what caused her outburst.

“Luffy just replied to my story.” She continued to laugh, holding her stomach. “He-he said ‘Usopp did a nice catch with the nose, Ace and I can’t stop laughing.” Usopp and I started to laugh, until Nami mentioned Ace’s name. I cringed thinking about him seeing my face and rection. The computer made a sound that the files were transferred so I fixed that while Nami and Usopp were texting Luffy.

“Okay, guys it’s all done now. We can go.” I told them, as I started to put my stuffs in my bag. “What time should we come tomorrow?”

“I say around 10AM.” Usopp suggested, and I nodded. They grabbed their bags, and we left.

*******

The rest of the days went by fast. Wednesday before I met with Nami and Usopp I stopped by my favourite coffee shop, part of me was expecting to see Ace there, but I didn’t. Today I gave it another try but it was the same as on Wednesday.

After we finished with our evaluations for the project, a few classmates asked me if I was coming to the Halloween party tonight, but I told them that for now I was not sure if I will be able to make it. They told me to come, as it would be fun, but I couldn’t make any promises.

“Why don’t we go for a little bit to the party they are throwing here in uni?” I suggested to Nami, as we were going to her place to get ready for tonight.

“Because we are going to a better one.” She scoffed.

“Come on, let’s go for just one drink and then we go straight to Luffy’s, please.” I nagged her, as I really wanted to go and hang up with our classmates for a bit.

“Okay, but only one drink.” She muttered. I squeaked happily and hugged her.

******

“Damn, we look good.” Nami exclaimed as we were checking ourselves in the mirror in her bedroom.

I was wearing a grey mini skirt with a silver corset on top, which Nami tighten a little bit too much, with a pair of black boots. I let my hair down as I was wearing a donkey ears on top of my head. Nami was dressed in light brown mini skirt with an orange corset on top and brown boots. On top of her long ginger hair, that was falling freely on her back, she had put cat ears. We took some pictures before heading to the party at university first. A lot of our classmates were already there when we arrived. I started to chitchat with some of them, as Nami went to get us something to drink. She came back giving me a can of beer.

“Sadly, beer is all I could find. We were supposed to bring our own booze.” She huffed, I could see that she was already eager to leave.

“Come on, at least fake it for me that you enjoy it.” I nagged her. She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Who gave you this by the way?” I took a sip of the beer.

“Some guy from year two.”

“Didn’t you take for yourself?” I was surprised, usually she never turns down things given to her for free.

“Nah, you know I’m not a fan of beer. But I will look around and see if someone has something stronger.” She patted me on the shoulder and left.

I continued to speak and laughed with some of the people from our class. We took some pictures and started to play some card game that took me some time to understand. I was having a lot of fun at the party here. Soon I finished my drink, and someone offered me another one, but I kindly denied their offer. I excused myself and went to look for Nami. She was sitting on one of the couches in school, talking with some girls from the second year; I got close to them and interrupted their conversation.

“Sorry for interrupting girls.” I apologised to them. “Nami, you want to go or stay a little longer?”

“Are you kidding me – let’s go.” She quickly got up and waved goodbye to the girls.

As we were walking to the metro station, I realised I have no idea where we were going.

“By the way I forgot to ask you, who’s house are we going to?” I was shaking a little bit because of the cold weather. I took a very tin jacket with me which wasn’t keeping me warm at all, on top of it my legs were bare.

“Deuce’s place. They usually throw parties at his house, as he is the only one who owns one.” She explained, and then looked at me. “Are you cold? You are shivering like crazy.” Her eyes were filled with concern.

“Yea, I’m freezing. I should have taken a long coat like you.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivers running all over my body.

“Oh, come here.” She pulled me to the side of her body wrapping me in her arms trying to warm me up a little. “You are going to get warm once we get to the party.” She winked at me.

******

We finally reached the metro station and caught the metro. Twenty minutes later we were in front of Deuce’s house. The music coming from it could be heard from miles away. Getting closer I noticed that there were quite lot of people. Some of them greeted Nami as we were walking toward the entrance. Once we stepped inside everything looked crazy. Whoever took care of the decoration did a very good job. The place was a two-storey house. The hallway was leading to a very spacious living room on the left side, and the kitchen was right at the end of it. On the right side of the entrance was the staircase to the second floor. We looked around until we could find someone familiar.

“I will check the kitchen; you check the living room.” Nami yelled in my ear as the music was way too loud. I was going to protest and tell her to not leave me alone, but she quickly disappeared. ‘Great’ I thought to myself. I took my jacket off and hung it by the door, where it was already formed a big pile of jackets. I took a deep breath and started to walk towards the living room. Looking around searching for someone familiar, I was also carefully checking if anyone by any chance might be Ace. I felt like a lost deer in the middle of the living room. Someone bumped into me and didn’t even apologise.

“Ass.” I called out after him, but he didn’t pay me any attention.

I looked around once more until my eyes landed on the couch. There were two guys sitting on it dressed the same – black pants, tight black shirts defining their muscular bodies with Ghostface masks on. On both of their sided were sitting two girls. The one on the right side had his arm wrapped around the girl who was sitting with her legs on his lap, his other hand on the couch. While the guy siting on the left side had a guitar on his lab and the girl sitting next to him leaned on his shoulders. The two girls were dressed as a dark and a light angle, and I made a mental note to myself tell Nami – ‘I told you’. I was about to turn around when the guy holding the guitar caught my attention. It wasn’t him but the tattoos on his arms that did it, they looked oddly familiar. Then it hit me –  I recognised the tattoos, this must be Law, the guy from Ace’s band. I took look at the guy next to him dressed exact same, wondering who it might be. The girl sitting on his lap turned her head towards my direction and so did the guy. I quickly looked away realising that I was staring at them. I tried to make my way around until I saw a familiar green buzz cut.

“Zoro.” I yelled trying to catch his attention. Surprisingly, he heard me and turn around.

“Yo, wat’s up?” He greeted me, as he pulled me for a hug with his left arm. “Are you a donkey?” He eyed my costume.

“Yeah, Donkey from Shrek.” I grabbed my ears and moved them playfully. “Do you like it?” I spined around so he could take a better look.

“Ye, sure. You look nice for a donkey.” He nodded at me, his tone cool and unbothered as always.

“What are you dressed as?” I ran my eyes on his costume.

“Guess.” He challenged me.

“Hmm...” I took a better look at his costume until I noticed the symbol on his yukata. “No way, you are dressed as a samurai from old Wano.” He chuckled at me and nodded. His costume was amazing. “How did you come up with it?”

“You know, I’m into marshal arts, and I have some roots from Wano. So... yea, I decided to pay a little tribute to my roots this year.” He was quick and short with his explanations.

“Where are the re-“ I didn’t finish my question as I heard someone behind me.

“There you are.” Usopp shouted, pulling me for a hug.

“Metro, make it boom.” I shouted at Usopp checking him out. “Damn, Usopp you look good tonight, I think you should dress like this more often.” He was dressed exactly like Metro Boomin from his lates album cover – black suit and white shirt, the white bandana wrapped around his forehead, his hair braided and as a last touch he even wore the exact same sunglasses as him. “Where is Future?” I joked, looking around for Kaya.

“Future is in the kitchen doing shots with Nami and sent me to get you there.” He nodded at us to follow him. Before we leave the living room, I took a glance towards the couch. It was only Law sitting on it with the girl from earlier. His mask was lifted now, and I could easily see his face. He and the girl were too busy making out with each other. Part of me was wondering if the other guy might be Ace. But then this unpleasant feeling bubbled inside of me when I remembered the girl sitting on his lap and the way his arm was wrapped around her. I tried to shake the feeling away and focus on my friends instead. After all it might not be him.

As we entered the kitchen, I quickly spotted Nami and Kaya. Kaya looked at us and waved her hand. She pulled me in a tight hug once we were next to them.

“(Y/N), I’m so happy to see you.” By the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was already tipsy. Her usual shy persona was long gone.

“Me too, Future. Nice drip.” I complimented her, as her look like Future turned out pretty good. She was wearing this long thick faux fur coat, her eyes hidden behind round sunglasses, and her neck was covered in so many silver and sparkling chains – she did an amazing job recreating his look as well.

“Wake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water.” She started to rap his verse from Low Life and we all started to laughed as she started to throw gangster signs at Usopp and screaming in his face ‘If she catch me cheating, I won't ever tell her, "sorry"’. Usopp was looking at her in disbelief as we couldn’t contain our laughter. If someone told me earlier today that I would witness drunk Kaya rapping at her boyfriend how she would cheat on him while throwing gangster signs I would have never believe it.

“This is what I get for being a good boyfriend.” He grabbed her face and shushed her with a kiss. In her drunken state she wasted no time to deepening their kiss.

“Get a room, you two.” Someone cheerfully yelled at them, we all turned our heads to see Luffy’s big grin as he joined our circle. He was dressed as Spiderman. His skinny but muscular body was fitting the costume very good, he could play a real life Spirdeman man if he wanted to. The only missing part of his costume was the mask.  

“What took you so long guys?” He asked Nami and me, as he pulled us for a hug. “You two look great by the way.” He complimented us. “What are you a donkey and what? A cat demon from hell?” He poked Nami on the sides messing with her.

“Luffy.” Nami whined. “I’m Puss from Shrek, and (Y/N) is the Donkey.” She explained to him.

“Wow, nice. I like this.” He gave us the thumbs up. “(Y/N), you look too sober, let’s get you drunk. Nami you too.” He poured up three glasses with rum and coke, then before he handed them to us, he filled all the way up six shot glasses with vodka. “Everyone, grab a shot of vodka.” He shouted, as he raised one of the shot glasses in the air. “Let’s make this night memorable.” We all cheered and took the shots in one sip. The strong taste of the vodka was burning my insides as my whole body twitched from the feeling of it. Luffy handed Nami and me, the drinks he made for us and himself.

“Yo, Luffy we should roll one, now that everyone is here.” Zoro turned to Luffy.

“Hell yeah.” He shouted, agreeing with Zoro. “No wait, we are not all here. Where is Sanji? I swear I saw him.”

“Do we really need him?” Zoro snorted.

“He is upstairs.” Usopp said pointing at the ceiling.

“What is he doing upstairs? Someone goes get him.” Luffy said not getting the hint.

“He is banging some chick Luffy.” Nami clarified for him. Luffy’s eyes widen, and he grinned.

“Well, good for him. Get it Sanji” Luffy chuckled, and we all laughed. “Okay, Zoro come with me to find Sabo as I think he has some of the good one tonight.”

Nami made us four more shots, but Usopp told her to not give Kaya more, and that she needed some cold air, so they went outside for a bit.

“This is for us two then.” She handed me two shot glasses. “One after the other.” She warned me. I followed her orders without protesting and we quickly took the shots. We grabbed the rum and cola that Luffy made us and started to look around at the party. Some people were playing some card game, and we decided to join. They quickly explained the rules, which were simple, and we started to play with them. Nami rolled the dice first and it landed on blue, she took a blue card of the pile and read it out loud.

“Give this card to the person with the least bodies.” She looked around not knowing the people we were playing with. “Okay who here is virgin?” She asked and everyone laughed. “As I expected, okay who here has slept with more than one person.” They all laughed again as she was saying the funniest jokes on Earth. “Then, darling, this card belongs to you.” She handed me the card and I rolled my eyes at her. It was my turn now. I rolled the dice, and it landed on pink. It was dare.

“Take off your shirt or drink three shots.” I shook my head. “I’m taking the shots.” Some of the guys booed me, but I ignored them. Someone brought me three shot glasses full of some pink liquor. “It’s watermelon sour shot, they are harmless don’t worry.” The girl who handed me the shots reassured me. I thanked her and drank the shots. She was right they were rather sweet than bitter. We continue to play a few more rounds with them until Nami nodded me to move somewhere else. I could feel that I was getting tipsy. I got a hold of her hand and stopped her for a second.

“Nami, do you know where the toilet is, I really need to pee.” I asked her as I was holding it for a quite some time now.

“Yea, it’s upstairs. But please, hold it for a second so we can drink two more shots.” She dragged me with her to some table full of shots. She handed me two again.

“What is it in it?” I asked as I had no idea what I was holding. Nami lift it to her nose and smelled it.

“Oh, it’s Jägermeister – now chuck.” She already drank hers before I even lifted mine. I scrunched my nose at the smell of it – not being a fan of Jägermeister, but still drank it. I saw her pulling her phone texting someone. “Okay, everyone is at the backyard ready to smoke, let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me after her.

“No, Nami, wait.” I stopped her. “I need to go pee; you go outside I will find you.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you?”

“No, just go. I will be fine.” I waved at her making my way upstairs. As I was going up the stairs, I could feel that those two last shots were bad idea. I got to the second floor and there I was met with four doors, and I didn’t know which one was the toilet. I opened the first one on the right and it was just a small storage room. I tried with the second door on the right and when I opened it, I froze on the spot. The room was dark, but because of the open door some light got in and there was one of the guys with the Ghostface mask with one of the girls. One of his hands was wrapped around her throat choking her, while the other was pulling her hair. He was so focused on fucking her from behind that he didn’t realise what was going on until she screamed. The guy looked up and stopped immediately. I realised what just happened and quickly closed the door. I tried opening the first door on the left and finally it was the toilet. My heart was going to explode in my chest. Because of the dim light I couldn’t see who it was. ‘Did I just walk on Law having sex? Or it was the other masked dude?’ I thought to myself. I looked at myself it the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged at this point and my hair was messy, I sighed at the look of myself. I quickly peed and washed my hands. I was a little scared to go out of the bathroom, what if the guy got mad and he was looking to kill me know?

“I watch too many movies” I murmured to myself. I opened the door and there was no one. I quickly ran down the stairs which wasn’t a good idea as I almost tripped and fell but I got a hold of myself on the railing. I hit my knee in it and I hissed from the pain, hoping no one saw that. I stopped in the middle of the hallway as everything was spinning around me, the alcohol finally kicking in. It felt like there are more and more people in the house since we came, as if it was possible. I didn’t know which way the backyard was, and I felt a little lost. As I was looking around trying to focus my sight, I felt someone gently putting their hands on my shoulders.

“Are you lost, doll?” Someone whispered in my ear. Shivers ran down my spine. I turned around quickly to face the person behind me. It was the Ghostface masked guy. I stepped back, as I wasn’t sure if he was the one I caught upstairs just a few minutes ago. What if he got mad at me? He was quite taller than me, I was faced with him muscular chest. The tight shirt on him defining every inch of muscles he had on his body. I looked at his hands searching for tattoos but there were none, so it wasn’t Law, but why would Law call me doll in a first place? His arms were toned and veined and there was something on his left biceps. My eyes run up his left arm. On top of his left bicep was a tattoo, all I could of see was a crossed out ‘S’ and ‘E’. The guy was just looking at me with the mask on, without saying anything, like we were in one of the scenes in the movie ‘Scream’. I held my breath for a second, feeling intimidated but weirdly attracted by him. The alcohol gave me a big push of confidence, and I spoke first.

“You want to play a psycho killer?” I asked him the exact same thing the actress in the movie did, and he nodded just like the killer in the movie.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I tease him the same way the actress did, and he nodded again.

“No please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel” I flutter my eyelashes at him. He came a step closer to me, and just ran his finger across my neck, as he was slitting it. The feeling of his fingers felt like they left a path of fire on it. My breath got caught in my lungs and electricity ran all over my body. The guy took off his mask, and I was met with Ace’s messy hair and charming smile.

“Hey there, beautiful.” His were eyes half lidded, but there was something in the way he was looking at me. “Are you lost? I can always help to guide you.” His voice was smooth and raspy at the same time.

“Ace.” My eyes widen at the sight of him. My confidence left me, when he was standing so close to me. “I-I no, no, I’m not lost, but I’m looking for the backyard.” I cleared my throat trying to compose myself.

“Relax, you will be on the sequel.” He joked with me. “Come they are looking for you.” He nodded me to go with him, as he put his hand on my waist guiding me. This simple gestured caused my cheeks to become flaming hot. We made our way to the backyard, and everyone were there, even Sanji and Ace’s other brother – Sabo with his girlfriend.

“Did you fall in the toilet?” Nami asked me sarcastically.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” I responded to her.

“Sorry (Y/N), we smoked the joints before you come.” Luffy awkwardly scratched his neck. “Next round I’m rolling you one for yourself only.” He giggled and I could tell that he was quite high at this point.

“It’s okay, I’m way too tipsy anyway.” I waved him off with a smile. Everyone started to chitchat something among themselves. Zoro and Sanji were arguing about something while Luffy couldn’t stop laughing at them. Usopp was making sure that Kaya was on her feet, as she had drunk too much alcohol, and now on top of it she was high. Nami was speaking something with Koala, who was leaning on her boyfriend Sabo. My body shiver slightly as the night was getting colder, and the alcohol wasn’t helping, as I stared to feel more tired than in the mood for a party.

“Are you having fun?” Ace came closer to me.

“Uh, yea... just l-little tired that is all.” I awkwardly chuckled, shivers ran down my spine feeling him so close.

“Looks like you are freezing. Do you want to go inside?” His tone was gentle.

“No, I need some air. Plus, inside is way too loud.” I brushed off his offer. “I will be fine, don’t worry.” A slightly blushed bloomed on my cheeks. I looked away trying to hide it. Alcohol usually gives people confidence, not the opposite, but tonight it wasn’t helping me at all.

“But you are freezing, doll.” He remarked, looking at my shivering body. “Let’s go somewhere where you can have both some cold air and be warm at the same time.” He whispered in my ear.

“Where?” I slightly tilted my head looking him in the eyes as he had bend over a little to meet my gaze.

“Come.” He just nodded at me to follow him, and I did. I turned around to look at the rest of the group but only Sabo was looking at us with a smirk. I lowered my gaze to the ground, as the blushed deepened on my cheeks.

******

Going back inside the house Ace got stopped a few times by some people greeting him. Some of them were girls, and the looks they sent my way weren’t very friendly. As we were going up the stairs Ace stopped and looked over his shoulder at me and asked if I want something to drink. I told him that a glass of water would be perfect, as I was feeling super thirsty. He nodded at me and told me to wait for him in the hallway upstairs. It didn’t take him long to come back. He handed me the glass of water and I thanked him. Ace started to walk to the second door on the right and as he was grabbing the doorknob to opened it, I stopped him.

“No, no, no. Do not open this door.” I still remember the scene from earlier when I caught the masked guy with the girl. Then it hit me like a truck – as I knew now that it was Ace and Law dressed the same, was it possible that I caught Ace there earlier. I looked at him a little suspicious as I let go of his hand. He raised his eyebrow at me, confused about what was going on.

“Why not?” He let go of the doorknob, turning all his attention to me.

“Well, y-you know w-why.” I avoided looking at him.

“No, doll I don’t.” He grabbed my chin with two of his fingers and making me look at him.

“I-I walked o-on someone... not l-long ago... h-having... y-you k-know...” His fingers were still holding my chin, but I avoided his gaze. He laughed at me for a second.

“Ah, don’t worry doll, if there is someone inside right now, they won’t be the first I’ve ever walked on.” Ace let go off my chin and opened the door. “Well, we are lucky there is no one in, come.” He got inside and waited for me to follow him. I hesitated for a moment but decided to trust him. The room was dark, but Ace quickly made his way to one of the corners and turned on the tall floor lamp positioned there. It was a bedroom. The walls were coloured in a cream beige nuance, some simple art paintings were hanged on them. The bed in the middle of the room was quite big, the sheets were wrinkled but still it wasn’t messy. The wall next to the bed had a big window door that were leading to a balcony. Ace closed the door behind me.

“You can sit or lay on the bed, and I will open the balcony doors.” He pushed the curtains and opened one of the doors. I sat on the side of the bed next to the opened door, and Ace sat next to me. I took a few sips of my water, my mouth dry and my mind was still quite foggy because of the alcohol. My heart was beating fast, as I realised that I was alone with Ace in the room. I saw him looking at me, and now on this dimed light I could take a better look at him. His cheeks were a little flushed, probably because of the alcohol, and his were eyes half lidded, but I couldn’t tell if he was high or not. His hair was messy because of the mask, at least I hoped it was because of it.

“Where is your company?” The question slipped out before I could even stop myself.

“What company?” He raised his eyebrow at my question.

“Y-you know that g-g-girl from earlier. D-did I w-walked o-n y-you?” I muttered, my eyes not moving from the water glass. “I-I mean, t-the g-guy w-was also wearing t-the s-same mask a-as y-you a-an...” Ace’s tongue-clucking interrupted me, and I locked at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he was shaking his head.

“Ouch, doll.” He tilted his head at me, a little smirk playing on his face. “I know we don’t really know each other, but don’t you think this would be kinda a big dick move? Like come on, fucking one girl and what, fifteen minutes later going to another one?” He snorted. I could feel that he was a little offended in the way his voice changed.

“Oh my God, no, no Ace I-I didn’t mean it like this, I-I’m extremely sorry.” I put the glass on top of the bedside table. “I-I swear I didn’t mean that, I-I thought i-if it w-was you, a-at least I can apologise for walking on y-you t-that’s all.” I babbled and didn’t realise that I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm by the shoulder.

“It’s okay, no offence was taken.” He brushed it off, his tone was cool. Being this close to him I noticed that he has freckles covering his face, especially his cheeks, which was adding a bit of cuteness to his otherwise very handsome face. I shivered again as the wind from outside filled up the room with cold air. I wrapped my arms around myself again.

“Let me close the door.” I wanted to protest, as the balcony door being open was giving me a sense of escape. It was making the atmosphere around us less intimidate.

“So, long time no see.” Ace sat back on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “You didn’t go for coffee this week?” He teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“I did actually, you just missed me.” A little smile forming on my lips.

“I will be a fool to missed you, doll.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes at his lame comment.

“So what? You were looking for me or something?” My confidence was coming slowly back, and he just laughed at me. He eyed me from head to toe.

“I’m surprised you didn’t dress as a fox.” He reached with his left arm and wiggled my donkey ears.

“I’ve already been a fox for Halloween, I don’t like repeating my costumes.” I felt myself relax and I laid my body on the bed. “At least my costume is not a lazy one.” I mocked him.

“Hey, what do you mean?” He turned his body on the side facing me, leaning his head on his left hand.

“You know.” I shrugged. “Ghostface mask? Really?” I couldn’t contain my giggle, as I continued to mock him. Ace rolled his eyes at me playfully.

“Shut up. I’m not into dressing up anyway, so I didn’t even care.”

“Boring.” I murmured, glancing at him playfully as well.

“Damn, doll you switch fast – just a seconds ago you were all shy on me, and now you are bulling me, tc-tc.” He licked his lips, looking at me amazed.

“I’m not bulling you; I’m criticizing you.” I corrected him, and we both burst out laughing.

“So, now that it’s just us two, let’s finished the conversation we were having last Friday before your uncle interrupted us.” Ace said. “Tell me – what are you into the most?” I thought for a second back to our conversation a week ago before I answered his question.

“Directing for sure. I love filming, but it’s different when you are the director.” I explained.

“What got you into film making?” He moved a little closer to me, but I didn’t mind it, as I started to feel calmer around him.

“Well, I can say I was a little influenced by my dad. Growing up, going with him to different studios and theatres, got me into loving the idea of creating something with a camera.” I smiled to myself, remembering the days when I was little, and dad would bring me to every movie or show he was recording, even if kids weren’t allowed, he never followed the rules. “I took a gap year before I decided what I want to do for sure, and then I found the program here and yes... this is how I end up studying filmmaking.” I moved my gaze to Ace, he was looking at me with a smile on his face, listening careful to what I was saying.

“Is your dad also a filmmaker?” He asked.

“Ha-ha, no, no.” I shook my head. “He likes to be in front of the camera unlike me and he is a comedian.”

“For real? Is he famous or something?” Ace raised his eyebrow curiously.

“Mhm...” I bit my lip, nodding my head. “Have you head of Buggy the Clown?”

“No way.” Ace’s eyes widen in surplice. “Your dad is Buggy the Clown?” I nodded a big grin spread across my face, being proud of Buggy being my father. “My brothers and I love him; your dad is amazing. Damn, so you are the daughter he tells all these crazy stories about.” He chuckled at me in disbelief.

“Yea, I’m the infamous daughter.” I giggled at his comment, my cheeks blushing a little.

“Damn... I feel starstruck now, can I have your autograph or something?” Ace teased me.

“Of course, you can where you want me to sign.” I teased him back, winking at him.

“Don’t tease me like that, doll.” He chuckled a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What about you? What got you into music?” My cheeks got flaming hot again and I quickly changed the subject, but also, I was really interested to hear his story behind how we discovered his talent.

“Let’s say I was a quite troubled kid, and as a punishment my aunt made me attend the school choir.” His face frowning a bit from embarrassment remembering the days back in the choir. “I hated it, you have no idea how much I hated attending it.” I let out a giggle at his expression. “Anyway, the teacher saw potential in me and spoke with my aunt to sign me for private lessons. She couldn’t afford that as she had to take care of Sabo and Luffy as well, but my teacher took me under her wing and, yeah..” He awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, that teacher wasn’t wrong.” I said, our gazes locking. Ace snorted at my comment, but he didn’t say anything.

“And how about the guitar? Did you take lessons, or you are self-taught?” I asked him, my voice came out almost as a whisper. Our gazes met and I couldn’t move mine from his dark brown eyes. I made a mental note to myself that I haven’t paid attention till now what a deep shade of brown they were, everyone could get lost in his beautiful eyes. His thin but as dark as his hair eyebrows were adding to his bold but handsome face.

“Law taught me when we became friends.” He spoke in a low tone as he moved a little strand of hair from my face. His fingers were surprisingly soft, even thought they were barely glazing the skin of my face. His touched felt like fire. My breath got caught in my lungs, as suddenly the room became so hot. Ace moved even closer to me, his fingers now playing with the strand of my hair. “Do you know that you have beautiful eyes, doll.” The way he said it as a statement and not a question made my heart skipped a beat. I just shocked my head, unable to say or do anything, as my body froze, but my eyes never left his. He licked his lips, eyes moving to my lips. I slightly opened my mouth, my hands gripping on the sheets under me, heart beating faster. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm myself down, and when I opened them, Ace cursed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He shook his head and sat up straight in the bed, looking at the ground. I followed him, looking at him confused.

“Ace?” My voice soft, coming out as a whisper. “A-are you okay? D-did I do something?” The energy in the room changed quickly. If a few seconds ago everything felt hot, like it was caught on fire, now it was the opposite, I could feel the cold wind from outside again.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He slightly tilted his head to look at me again. “Please, forgive me and forget about what happened just now.” His voice remained low.

“Nothing really happened.” I tried to reassure him with a smile. I reached with my hand to touch his shoulder, but he grabbed my hand midair and looked at me seriously.

“I mean it, doll. Forget about what just happened.” His tone was stern.

“Ace, I’m really confused right now, and it’s not because of the alcohol.” I was so confused, what gotten into him out of nowhere. “Nothing happened we are just a little drunk that is all.” I chuckled trying to lighten up the mood.  

“Doll, you don’t get it.” He shook his head again, looking away.

“Then explain.” I snapped at him; even thought I didn’t mean to. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out so har-“

“I’m not the guy that sticks around, (Y/N).” Ace interrupted me. “So, let’s not cross any lines, nothing more than a friendship, okay?” He snapped back at me. I lower my gaze to the ground and nodded. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Believe me, doll... I’m making you a favour.” He got up from the bed and he left the room.

*******

I sat by myself for quite some time not being able to explain to myself what just happened between Ace and me. Did he just reject me? Did I do something to make him react that way? I wanted to go and find him and ask what was all that, but my self dignity didn’t let me. Why flirt with me and then reject me like this? My mind was running with questions. And what was it with all this “I’m doing you a favour.”? All I wanted at this point was to go home. I stand up from the bed and went downstairs, looking for my jacket. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so I cursed under my breath and left the place. I was partly hurt by his behaviour and also little offended. My phone had only five precent battery left, and the metro was closed so I had to walk all the way to my place. Just before my battery died, I texted Nami, a quick message that I left as I didn’t feel good. I was passing by some club when someone called after me.

“Hey, brat.” The voice sounded familiar, so I turned around and saw Kid. He came to me and gave me a look. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“None of your business Kid.” I cut him off, continuing my way, as at this point, I couldn’t feel my body as I was freezing to death.

“I can drive you home.” He said after me. I stopped and turned back to him.

“I don’t need your help.” I snapped at him.

“Sure, if you say so. Now come, stop being a brat.” He nodded me to follow him. His car was parked close by, so we didn’t walk long. The drive to my place was quiet.

“Kid, can I ask you something?” I broke the silence. He just looked at me waiting for my question. “As an asshole yourself.” I started not sure how to ask the question. “How can I tell if one is into me? Like... help me understand this.” I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace and what happened. Kid side-eyed me and sighed.

“If he is into you...” He glanced at me before continuing. “He will keep telling himself that he is doing you a favour by staying away from you but... he won’t be able to.” He parked in front of my place, his gazing not leaving the road in front of him. We stayed silenced for a minute, and I noticed that Kid was lost in his own thoughts.

“Thank you, Kid. You know when you want you – you can actually be very nice to hang around.” I told him before getting out of his car. “Thanks for the ride.” I said closing the door.

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Great War (Babe Part 2) (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! At the risk of forgetting to post part two, I'm doing it now! Like I mentioned in the first post, it's only a part two if you want it to be--you can just have read Babe and leave it at that, but this is just more idea to go with it that I couldn't stop my brain from working on. Enjoy! :)

Summary: It's been almost a month since you left Matt. Everything hurts, and you're doing what you can to get through. Foggy calls, and it turns out Matt's not doing much better. For the first time, you have no idea what your future with Matt Murdock looks like.

Listening rec: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Warnings: ANGST, Matt and reader are separated (Matt cheated), they’re both heartbroken at the situation, swearing, fighting/shouting/anger, throwing, Matt grabs reader (NO VIOLENCE, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen pokes out), depression (mention of the word "borderline suicidal" in reference to season three Matt), Matt being reckless, lots of crying, drinking

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,820

Before you can even say a feeble hello, Foggy is already speaking. “Matt’s devastated,” he breathes. 

You’re hurt. Offended, even. You left because of what he did in California, and he has the audacity to feel sorry for himself? “And I’m not?” you say, probably with more venom than appropriate. “Goodbye, Foggy.”

“Wait, hold on!” You don’t know why you don’t hang up, but you stay on the line. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right way to start this. How have you been?”

“I’m awful, Foggy. My marriage is done, my heart hurts, I’ve lost the man I love . . . I’ve never been worse.”

“(Y/N) . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Fog. All this is between me and Matt. It’s why you called, I’m guessing? Get all the answers for what exactly happened between us?”

“That’s between you guys. It’s none of my business or anyone’s. I’ve already ripped Matt a new one for doing what he did, and so did Karen and Frank, but he’s . . .” He stops and lets out a sigh. “Do you remember hearing from Maggie what Matt was like after Midland Circle? Despondent, depressed, borderline suicidal?”

Of course you remember, how could you ever forget? You’ve never seen him like that in your life. But the term “borderline suicidal” makes a pit grow in your stomach as you straighten up.

“He hasn’t tried to—?” you start to ask. 

“No, no, that was shitty wording on my part. But Matt’s not himself. It’s like watching a hollow corpse with a temper move about. He either doesn’t care at all, or a little thing will set him off. He’s being reckless on patrol, he’s drinking more than he usually does. I’ve been covering for him at the office, but . . . You need to talk to him.”

You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheek. “I can’t, Foggy.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“He broke my heart, and I broke his in return. I stomped on it. I love him and I hurt him. If I talked to him . . . That’s salt on the wound for both of us.” More tears stream down your face as you think about it. “We both vowed not to hurt one another. H-He hurt me, but he wanted to fix it. I hurt him and don’t have that same courage to try.”

“Try now,” Foggy pleads. “Try now, help one another. Even if it’s for the last time.”

“O-Okay,” you say before you can realize it.

Foggy breathes a sign of relief. “Come to the loft.”

The loft. The scene of the crime.

You breathe a quiet confirmation before you hang up, taking time to mentally prepare yourself before you grab your purse and leave your sister’s place to talk Matt off whatever ledge he’s currently perched on. 

It’s a short trip, and Foggy meets you in the lobby of Matt’s building. He pulls you in for a long hug, and you actively tell yourself not to cry. 

“He’s that bad, huh?” you sniffle.

“Yeah,” Foggy sighs. “I’ve never been for him like this before. It’s like he’s not the same person.”

“I know what you mean,” you say quietly. “I haven’t felt like myself since that day.”

Foggy looks at you with a crestfallen expression, and you give him one more hug before you make your way up to the loft. 

Your key still works—you’re afraid if you knock, he won’t let you in. Hell, he probably heard you turn the block on your way here and wouldn’t answer out of anger or annoyance. Your stomach churns when you see Matt sitting in the chair. He’s in sweats, his posture is curved, his hair is disheveled, and he’s growing a thick beard. Beer bottles are on the table in front of him mixed with trash.

“Matt?” you breathe, but he remains unmoved. As you move closer toward him, he sits there like a statue, not caring to look your way. “Matt, it’s me.” Still, he doesn’t gaze your way. 

Putting your purse in its usual spot, you make your way over to him in the chair, gently cupping his face in your hands to tilt him up toward you. You suck in a small breath when you see the bruises and cuts on his cheeks, nose, and chin. If this is what his face looks like, you can only imagine the other injuries that his clothes are hiding.

“Matt,” you breathe. “What happened?”

He just closes his eyes in shame, starting to turn. You don’t let him, though, bringing his face back to center.

“Matty,” you plea. “Matt, talk to me, sweetheart.”

“You’re not my sweetheart anymore,” he finally says, and it burns like acid. You deserve it—you gave it just as good to him when he came back from California. “And I’m not yours.”

“We didn’t sign any papers yet,” you breathe, trying to lighten the mood as you hold back your own tears. “So, legally, I am.”

Matt peels back from my touch like he’s getting out of an itchy sweater. Okay, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.

“Matt—.”

“You left,” he spits. “You left just like everyone else, even when you swore you wouldn’t.”

You sit back on your heels. It hurts, but it’s the truth. “I did.” He turns back toward you like he’s shocked you actually admitted it. “I didn’t try to hear you out, and I’m sorry. I should’ve. It was . . .”

He turns toward you, ice in his blind gaze. You’ve never seen Matt like, this, and as he starts to slowly rise from his chair, it’s the first time you can say that you’ve ever been afraid of him. 

You spring to your feet as well, trying to at least keep things on the same level posture wise. 

“Now you’re trying to make things better?” he growls low. “You’re the one that tore it up in front of us. I wanted to stop the breakage, but you readied the wrecking ball. This shit is your mess. It’s like this because of you.”

Now you start to get mad. “Oh, just me? Any breakage that was the breakage that you started. Those images and videos were circulating for two whole days before you came home. I didn’t hear a single word from you—a ‘good morning’ or ‘I’m boarding my plane’ or otherwise. You just showed up here expecting it to all be fine—.”

“You don’t get to assume in this,” he grits, the space between you dangerously nonexistent as one of his hands tightly grab on to your wrist.

“Yes, I can. There’s two people in this mess. I’m saying what it seemed like on my end,” you say, your heart thundering in your chest. Matt wouldn’t hurt you—he’d never do that. But with how his hand is on your arm and the mood he seems to have been in since you left, you’re not entirely confident in that statement anymore.

“You never really knew a damn thing about me, did you?” he frowns. “You just kept a version of Matt Murdock in your head and lived with it this entire time, huh?”

“Maybe I did. Because this isn’t the Matt Murdock I came over to talk to. This is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. So, if you’re gonna let the Devil out, let him out on me, Murdock. Do your worst.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he threatens, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth. 

“No. I came here to talk, and that’s what we’re gonna—.”

Before you know it, his hand is off your wrist, wrapping around the neck of a beer bottle before he whizzes it past your head like a threat. You flinch, moving to cover your head before the bottle leaves his hand, and you remain curled as the glass hits something behind you, knocking it over as they both crash to the ground. You slowly turn to see what was caught in the crosshairs—the beer bottle had hit a picture frame, knocking it down off the side table and breaking it. You can tell by the shifts in his body language he immediately regrets it, his shoulders slumping as tears start to sting your eyes. You notice he starts to take a step toward you out of the corner of your eye, but you’re on the move toward the broken picture frame. One of the pictures from our wedding.

Huh, you think. How fitting. 

You lower yourself to your knees, carefully picking it up and looking at how your faces were beaming with nothing but joy, how you held onto one another with love . . . and now how it’s the opposite. How you’re broken. You wouldn’t look at him the day you left, and he won’t look at you know. You curl over the photo, freely weeping on the pile of glass. You just want it things to go back to normal.

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting as if he wants to put a hand on your back to soothe you, but he backs away to let you cry. Tears pour out of you like a geyser, a constant flow down your cheeks as you sit alone in the living room. Maybe it was an accident that he hit the picture, but his senses are so sharp . . . maybe he did want to hit it. Maybe he was trying to prove a point. Maybe he wanted to show you that by you leaving, you were the one who put the final nail in the coffin of your marriage.

Maybe he really doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he stopped wanting you before he went to Los Angeles. Maybe he stopped wanting you a long time ago.

You’re still crying when you hear Matt come back over toward you. Through your limited vision, you watch him clean up the broken glass from the bottle and the frame. It takes him a few trips, but it’s eventually all cleaned up. He leaves again before walking back toward you, holding out a box of tissues. With a shaking hand, you grab one and wipe at your nose, desperately trying to calm yourself. 

“This is my favorite picture of us from our wedding,” you sniffle. “This is what I would grab if I could only take one thing from the loft in an emergency. This would be it. And now . . .”

You can’t finish your sentence, just weeping uncontrollably in your little ball on the floor over your two deepest treasures—this photo and your marriage. Shattered. 

“Angel . . .” Matt says so softly, so tenderly, you almost forget that your life has essentially imploded.

“This is all my fault,” you cry, spiraling, trying to trace it all back to you, your actions. The big explosive things all seem to have their root in something you can place back to yourself. Matt slept with someone else, but it goes back to something you did— you had a short attention span and a bit of a short fuse before he left because a bunch of shit at work that kept piling up, and you knew he was frustrated . . . how much he hates planes. You egged him on. You did nothing to help, and when he left to go to California, he found someone who understood him in a way you couldn’t. You need an answer for this, and that seems to be it.

“This is my favorite picture of us, and it’s all my fault,” you sniffle, repeating what you said earlier, your chest burning from the tears and hyperventilation. 

“It’s just a picture—,” he starts to say softly.

“It’s not just a picture,” you weep. “This, us, it’s all my fault. We’re broken because of me. This is all my fault.”

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting down and taking the picture from your hands, putting it on the arm of a nearby chair before pulling you in for a hug. All you can do is sob against his shoulder as he holds onto you. 

“This isn’t because of you,” he tries to soothe, sounding like he’s about to cry as well. “It . . . It was my poor judgement, it was my shortcomings that did this. You’re in the flaming wreckage, and it’s not fair.”

“I just want things how they were,” you sniffle. “I want to come home. I want us to be okay.”

Matt’s silence is terrifying. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt rage like that. Darkness like that,” he says softly. You feel a tear fall from his cheek to the top of you head. “Shit, I grabbed you . . . Fuck, I’m so sorry. I-I would never—(Y/N), please—.”

“I . . . I,” you start. He’d never hurt you. For all his anger, for all his strength, Matt would never hurt you. But when you’re facing off with the man that patrols the streets? The man that brought down Wilson Fisk not once, but twice? You just didn't know. 

“I scared you.” Tears are flowing down his cheek. “I could hear your heart race . . . I knew you were scared and for a moment, and I didn’t care. It’s like I wanted you to be scared, and I liked it. I was glad you were scared of me.” He sounds disgusted with himself. “You really thought I was going to hit you.”

“I did. For a moment,” you admit. It catches in your throat, but there’s no use in lying if you’re trying to fix this. 

Is that what you came over to do? To fix this? 

He lets out a long breath, slumping to the floor. “What happened to us?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” you say. And it’s the truth. You don’t really know how you got to this point. Yes, you know why you walked out, but it’s like there were the small hairline fractures in glass—so fine that you couldn’t see them—and then a hammer came down on it and a million little pieces was left in its wake. But how he sounds . . . you know that tone. When it’s been a rough night on patrol, it coats his words like sap—he’s going into a dark headspace, and when he gets too far in, it’s hard to get him out, and you need to get him out. You move around to carefully sit next to Matt, putting a hand on his forearm. You can feel a thick bandage on his arm before you can process that he winces, so you move to slide your hand in his. 

“I know you’d never hurt me,” you breathe. “I know you’d never lay a hand on me like that.”

“But I did, though. If I added more pressure, I could’ve snapped your worst. It would have been easy for me to do.” You see him swallow the lump forming in his throat, his own self-hatred inflating at a dangerous rate. “I was full of rage. You were scared of me.”

“I’m scared of all of this,” you admit, your voice small. “What’s happening to us. How it’s effecting you and me. We’re . . . We’re not ourselves. I-I don’t recognize either of us. I don’t like it. I want things back how they were.”

“But they can’t go back.” He sounds broken, hollow—just how you feel. 

“Are . . . Are we too far gone?” you ask just above a whisper, terrified of the answer. 

“I don’t want us to be.”

You hang your head. “I haven’t been sleeping,” you admit. “It doesn’t feel right without you, your arms around me.”

He places a gently hand on your chin, lifting your face up and wiping tears off of your cheeks before pulling you in for a hug. It feels like warmth. Like love. “I can’t sleep in the bed. It smells like you, and with you gone . . . I just patrol all night.”

It’s like when you think your heart can’t break any more, it does. “I still feel so upset, but, I feel hollow more than anything. Like part of me is missing.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I-I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of your head. “I should’ve listened, I shouldn’t have left like that, but I was just so upset. I couldn’t be around you without feeling like screaming or crying or both.”

“We . . . We can get through this. Can’t we?”

You think about it. Is this something you can do? You’ve been through worse— you’ve seen him near death more times than you would like, you’ve seen how the toll of Daredevil and the stress of being an attorney wear him down. Even the debate on how we should bring up our children should you choose to have them strained you both. But your happiness, your life together, it’s bigger than your low points. It has to be.

It has to be. 

Right?

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters  @loves0phelia

[imsodishy]

Take a Step That is New

another episode of Four's Company (a series on ao3)

this episode filmed in front of a live studio audience

May 1987 

The cheery chimes above the door at Dot's Dinner ting-a-ling as Steve walks in and he almost throws his stupid briefcase at it. He settles at the last minute for telling it to, “Shut the hell up,” and heads for the counter. 

“Whoa, buddy, rough day?” Robin's already saddled up on a stool, Billy’s just serving up her burger and onion rings. 

The boxy fan they’ve set up on the counter does nothing to dispel the muggy heat that’s settled over the city, just moves the humid air around. It also does nothing to improve Steve’s mood, sweltering in his stupid suit, he yanks at his tie until he can breathe again. 

Steve claims the stool next to Robin, peels off his stuffy jacket and slams it down on the teal formica counter top with zero thought for whatever grease or condiments it might find there, then he plonks his head down next to it without acknowledging Robin, and groans like a dying seal, “I hate my fucking life.” 

It’s not true, Steve likes his life. Mostly. 

What he fucking hates is his job. Which makes up… some way too big percentage of his life; 9 to 5, Monday to Friday is a big chunk of the week. The heat doesn’t help. 

Robin pat-pats his shoulder consolingly. He hears Billy huff at his dramatics before walking away from the sad spectacle of Steve’s life. Off in the corner Seymour, a grumpy old regular who basically lives at his booth, frowns. He’s always frowning at something though. Mostly at Steve, though not exclusively. Eddie earns his fair share of stink-eye. 

Robin's hand is still on Steve’s shoulder when he can sense her lean in closer and– “Don't fucking sniff me, dude!” He snaps upright, leaning as far away from her as he can without toppling off the stool. “It's so weird.” 

“Sorry! Sorry,” she says, “You seem stressed is all, and I was just checking you didn’t go crawling back to sweet lady nicotine's disgusting embrace.” 

Robin’s been rabid lately on her bid to get all three of them to quit smoking. It started with a not in the house rule, and has quickly progressed to all out war on the cancer sticks. Steve's the only one who's buckled so far. He's on an almost two month streak right now, and she's been playing hard defense to keep him on it. He draws the line at the sniffing though. That is simply unacceptable. 

Steve rolls his eyes, and grumbles, “I didn’t smoke,” God, he could really go for one right now though, “If I bring a lighter to work I’ll end up burning the building down.”  

A strawberry milkshake clonks down on the counter in front of him as Billy basically drops it like a bomb, “Oh my God. Quit! Just quit your stupid fucking job that you hate!” he explodes, “I cannot listen to your sad-sack, bitch-baby, whining about it anymore.“ 

Steve pulls his milkshake in close just in case Billy tries to confiscate it for bitch-baby behavior. “I can’t just quit,” he whines. 

Billy just rolls his eyes and doesn’t try to take Steve’s one joy away from him. “Why? Because your Dad got it for you?” 

And like, yeah, but Billy doesn’t have to be such a dickhead about it. 

Billy landed his job at Dot’s Diner like some kind of magic. Seriously, their first day in New York, they hadn’t even unpacked any of the boxes they'd schlepped into the house when Billy dusted off his hands and said, “I'm gonna get the lay of the land,” and walked out the front door. 

He came back six hours later with a job and a peanut butter milkshake. It took him a month after that to tell them where he worked, and he tells them frequently that he's regretted it everyday since he caved. They do spend a lot of time there bothering him, despite the fact he refuses to give them freebies. His boss, Sal (who reminds Steve a lot of Benny from the diner back home, if he had about two dozen extra tattoos, like they both rolled off a big, gruff, diner proprietor assembly line somewhere), is actually way more likely to sling them a free coke or some fries once in a while. 

“We could find you another job,” Robin says, as she’s been saying for months, “One that makes you at least sixty percent less arson-y, guaranteed!” 

Robin got her job at the campus bookstore through student services, (obviously not an option for Steve), although, with the first year under her belt, she's talking about looking elsewhere for employment, since the school pays them peanuts anyway, and she thinks she'll be able to balance her schedule better now on her own. 

The door chimes jangle crazily as Eddie bursts into the diner, “Outstanding news chums!” he booms, ignoring Seymour scowling in his direction. 

“Easy on the door, Munson,” Billy warns. 

Eddie shuts the door with exaggerated care, before he hustles over to the counter and hops up on the stool on Robins other side. He gives himself a drumroll, rattling all the flatware on the counter. Old Seymour’s glare intensifies. 

“I have news,” he repeats, flipping his cup right-side-up for Billy to fill with coffee he doesn’t need, upcoming nightshift at the bar or no. 

Robin takes a guess, “You talked to you boss about getting the time off for the Hawkins trip?” she doesn’t sound that hopeful. 

And for good reason. “What? No,” Eddie dismisses her with a flapping hand, “I have an audition with a band!” 

“Gasp,” Robin says flatly. The only news Eddie gets this excited about is when he's auditioning, or sitting in, or has a lead on some new band seeking a guitarist. 

Eddie, by his own account, got his so-called day job (it’s nights, bar-backing) by just hanging around the bar/music venue he frequents all the time, bothering the bartenders (and selling them weed) until one of them slapped a rag in his hand and told him to make himself useful. Which suits him just fine to fill time while he chases his music dream. 

“Look, I'm going to Hawkins either way,” Eddie tells her with a carefree shrug, “If Rosco won't give me the time off I'll just quit and get a new job when we get back.” 

“See!” Billy says, slamming the coffee pot back into it's cradle, “You see how easy that is, Harrington? You lose a job, then you get another one. C'est la fucking vie.” 

Eddie leans around Robin to look at Steve, “Oh-ho. Did the little Lord Harrington finally break free from the yuppie rat race?”  

“No,” Steve says, and slurps a big sip of his milkshake. 

Steve didn’t get his own job at all, obviously. It was already lined up for him before they even rented the moving truck. It came pre-approved for him courtesy of his father and his father’s business connections. Steve's been working there for almost a year now, but he's still not entirely clear what they do. 

It's real-estate... kind of? The company buys properties, but they do it by selling shares in the properties to other companies, then they use that money to pay construction companies to tear down those properties and build new ones on the land. Those construction companies use that money to buy steel and other building shit from Steve’s dad’s plants back in Indiana (and Michigan). Then Steve's bosses sell the whole shebang for several butt-loads of money for them and their investors to start the game all over again. 

Steve’s job largely seems to involve standing around, insuring their side of the boardroom has the most men in suits at all times, and occasionally kissing investor ass. He’s a Junior Account Associate somehow. 

It’s soul crushing. 

“Aw, cheer up, Stevie,” Eddie says, slapping him on the back, “Look on the bright side, at least you can always keep our beer fridge stocked with that fat paycheck of yours.” 

Robin does Steve the favor of smacking Eddie upside the head. 

Steve decides to change the subject, “What’s the band called, Ed?” he asks, because that’s always good for a laugh at least. 

Eddie holds his hands in front of his face like he's framing a marquee, “ God of Gore ,” he announces in a theatrical growl. 

Steve snorts to himself. Yeah, that’s good shit. 

“And,” he goes on, voice rising in pitch as he gets more hyped up, “Get this, their last guitarist up and moved to Indiana! How's that for kismet? It's fate, I tells ya!” 

“Who would willingly move to Indiana,” Billy wonders, “The whole state's a toilet.” 

Not at all bothered by the shit talking of their home state, Eddie hops down of his stool and announces, “Speaking of which, gotta drain the snake.” 

While Robin is busy grimacing at that, Eddie wiggles incredibly unsubtle eyebrows at Billy. He gets a, much more subtle, jerk of the chin back, so Eddie slips right past the bathrooms and into the kitchen, and doubtless out the back door to smoke in peace, away from Robin’s judgmental gaze. He’s made vague, placating noises at her about cutting back, but he’s just been sneaking around behind her back, with Billy as an accomplice. 

Billy might be smoking more out of spite. 

Eddie's whirlwind act really made Steve feel like the sad-sack Billy accused him of being, and he’s sick of that feeling, gets more than enough of it everyday at work.  

All the silverware rattles as he slams a decisive hand down on the counter, much to Seymour’s ire. “You know what I think would make me feel better?” Steve asks loudly and rhetorically. 

He shoves away from the counter and heads straight for the jukebox. 

“No!” Billy booms, pointing at Steve like he’s a cat on the counter. 

Steve backs slowly down the aisle, facing Billy the whole way with big, guileless eyes. “What's that?” 

“You’re still banned for Bryan Adams crimes.” Honestly, Steve’s probably got a couple bans stacked at the moment. Billy doles them out liberally.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hargrove,” Steve bumps into the jukebox because he still won’t turn away from Billy’s impotent glare. It's great, his ears are going red.  

“I call the shots here,” he tries, fruitlessly. 

“No you don‘t, Sal does,” Steve snorts, “And, anyway, I am a private citizen, this is a free country! My dime is as good as anybody’s!” He's been spending too much time with Eddie. 

Billy throws a spoon at him. 

Steve cackles as he plugs the jukebox. There’s a couple beats of bassy synthesizer. 

Billy tells him, “You’re a monster,” with feeling.  

Then— “ Watching every motion in my foolish lover’s game.”  

Steve slow dances back towards the counter, swaying to the dreamy beat of the bum-bum-bum-bubums, high on the joy of being deeply annoying. He slides back onto his stool just in time to dramatically sing along to, “ Take my breath awaaaaay,” right in Billy’s face. It's gone all red now, like the cherry on Steve's shake, which he happily pops between his grinning teeth. 

“It’s not my fault Sal won’t put Mötley Crüe in there,” Steve says, munching happily on his cherry. 

Billy storms off into the kitchen. 

“Someday,” Robin muses through he mouthful of fried onions, “he’s going to feed you a floor burger, and I’m not going to stop him. This song is sincerely awful.” 

“I like it,” Steve declares. 

“Of course you do.” Robin pats his hand condescendingly. 

She swivels on her stool to face him, a concerned little furrow in her brow, and ketchup on her cheek. “Seriously though, Steve, we could find you a different job. No problem. You got the job at Family Video, and Scoops before that.” Robin got him the job at Family Video, and he only got the job at Scoops because the first guy they hired showed up to the training stoned, but it’s nice of her to say. “You don’t need to stick it out because of your dad, you don’t need his help. It’s not your only option or whatever bullshit you’re worried about. You can get a different job. And, okay, no it wouldn’t pay as much, but you'd get by.” 

Robin wasn’t Steve’s first real friend or anything like that, he wouldn’t even say she’s his first good friend . But she’s definitely his best friend. Steve lays a hand over her slightly greasy one on the counter, and furrows his brow right back at her, “But then, Robin, who would keep the beer fridge stocked?” 

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her burger, “So we'd have to bid goodbye to Daddy Beer-bucks, we'd survive.” 

They would. Robin, Billy, and Eddie are resourceful, and smart, and self-sufficient, they’d figure out a way get by, even with Steve hanging like an anchor around their necks. But Steve hates the idea of dragging them down. Actually can’t stand it. He literally gets a stomach ache if he thinks too hard about it. When he can hear future Robin, somewhere down the line, when she’s sick of his shit, saying You can’t expect us to handle every little issue for you, dingus, in his head, except sometimes the ‘dingus’ morphs into ‘darling’ and imaginary-Robin sounds disturbingly like his mother (which doesn’t help the stomach ache problem at all). So he needs to keep bringing in enough money to pay his way. 

Steve just smiles at her. 

Billy reemerges from the kitchen to make a round of his tables, giving Steve the evil eye as he goes, before settling behind the counter to concentrate on glaring at Steve despite the fact that the song is long over by now, Eddie Money is playing now. Steve raises his eyebrows at his glare, “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of dimes.” 

Robin, perhaps prompted by Mr. Money asks, “Where'd Eddie go? He’s taking forever in there.” 

Billy silently points over her shoulder to where they can clearly see Eddie’s hunched form cowering miserably under the diner's awning from the unpleasantly warm rain that’s finally broken after threatening all day. He’s sucking down smoke like his life depends on it. Must not have been enough shelter in the alley when the rain started. 

“No!” Robin shouts, much like Billy had shouted at Steve earlier, and dashes out the door, bells cheerfully chiming her exit. Eddie takes a couple more panicked puffs before Robin gets to him and he has to start playing keep away with the butt. 

Steve watches them through the window for a couple seconds like a real life version of those weird old puppet shows, “What are those puppets that–“ 

“Punch and Judy,” Billy answers the unfinished question. 

He flicks a dime that bounces off Steve's forehead and drops to the counter with a ring-a-ting-ting. “Go put on some Springsteen, Bambi,” he says, smiling at him like he’s still a sad-sack, sure, but at least he’s one Billy’s kinda fond of, then he goes to top off Seymour’s coffee down at the far end of the other end of the diner. 

For Billy alone, Seymour’s got a great big smile.

Steve has stapled his tie to his desk. Which seems like the kind of thing most people would only do by accident. Not Steve, though. No, he simply got so bored that when the thought, I wonder if I could staple my tie to this desk right now, breezed through his head he went ahead and did it. 

Turns out he could, so he added a couple more staples for no better reason than the first one. 

Steve feels like his brain is melting out his ears which is maybe half boredom, half the heat. The AC has been in and out all week, something about the grid according to maintenance. Turns out a cracked window and a fan isn’t any more effective on the 10th floor of a Manhattan office building than it is in a ground level diner in the Bronx. 

“Harrington.” All the staples explode off his tie, flying all over his little hot-box of an office, when he jerks upright as Connor Michaels walks in to his office. The guy definitely notices the staples too, judging by the shitty little smirk on his face. 

The thing about all of Steve’s coworkers is that they hate him, because he’s clearly just a doofus nepotism hire who has no business working here. They all hide it behind a veneer of polite condescension while trying to use him as a connection since his last name is Harrington, though. It’s all so pathetically exactly like high school Steve can hardly stand it. 

Connor chuckles, “Tgif, am I right? Listen, I asked Laura to pull the permits for the Hell’s Kitchen property for me, but she’s on the rag or something and flipped out at me.” 

The other thing about Steve’s coworkers is that they’re all douchebags. 

“Okay,” Steve says to avoid stapling his smug face. 

“I know she does shit like that for you all the time, so think you could work your magic?” Connor wiggles his fingers vaguely that reminds Steve of how his mom would talk about his sport’s things any time it came up. 

Laura is the only exception to the douchebag rule. She’s smart, and competent, and the only woman at Steve’s level of management. She also hates Steve, but she doesn't try to hide it. She’s got integrity about it. The only reason she helps Steve with things like permits and filings is that she knows she’s the one who will have to clean up the mess if he royally screws it. She reminds him a lot of Robin in the early days of working at Scoops, just completely unimpressed by and uninterested in his King Steve bullshit. 

Steve does frequently throw himself on her mercy, she’s the only reason he hasn’t caused any serious problems so far. Which is maybe the other reason she keeps helping him, because he unreservedly admits that it’s a joke that they’re on the same level professionally. And not a funny one. 

Steve starts sweeping the staples that landed on his desk and not the floor into a pile, “Sure,” he says to Connor, hoping that’ll get him to leave. 

No luck. Instead he tucks his hand in his pockets and settles into a slouches against Steve’s wall, “How do you manage that anyway?” he asks lightly, “You tapping that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “No.” 

Connor hums, “Yeah, not surprising. I bet she’s a dyke.” 

And maybe, on a different day, when Steve wasn’t already at his boiling point both figuratively and literally, he would have responded more... diplomatically.

“I quit my job,” Steve announces as he walks through the front door of his house.  

All three of his roommates turn to gape at him from the living room. 

They were all lounging around in the bare minimum of clothes required for the living room with two opposing fans pointed at them in an attempt at a cross breeze when Steve arrived home with his briefcase in a cardboard box with shockingly little else in the way of personal effects in it. He really hadn’t built up much of a presence at the office over the nearly a year he worked there. 

“What?” Robin exclaims, as she mutes the TV, “What happened?” 

“I threw a stapler at a guy’s head.” Steve answers. 

“A stapler?” Billy asks, baffled, “Why?” 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I also said a lot of shit, but the stapler was probably the button on it.” Steve drops his things, steps out of his wingtips, and starts tugging at his tie as he makes his way across the room, “It wasn’t even- Like, I mean, it was business as usual, really. It wasn’t anything new, and I just... lost it.” He’s down to his undershirt and boxershorts by the time he collapses between Robin and Billy on the couch with a massive sigh like a slowly deflating raft. 

“Right on man,” Eddie says from his spot on the armchair, leaning over to slap Steve’s knee, “I bet that guy had a stapler to the face coming.” 

He really did, Steve must concede. 

“Shit, I can’t believe I quit.” 

Robin makes a questioning noise, “Did you actually quit, or did they fire you? For the stapler thing?” 

“Who gives shit,” Billy says before Steve can tell them he’s not actually sure technically, “It’s done and dusted either way. Which calls for a celebration!” 

Billy bounces up off the couch and goes to the kitchen to collect a round of beers for everyone, he’s the only one who’s foregone a shirt so far, which is unsurprising. He pops the caps of with his ring before doling out the bottles. 

 “To casting off the corporate shackles!” Eddie toasts, Billy and Robin here-hereing it. 

Steve takes a big gulp of his beer. “What the hell am I gonna do?” he wonders aloud. 

“Celebrate!” Robin says, she’s also in a t-shirt and boxershorts, which she stole from Steve a while back for loungewear, “Like the man said.” 

Steve huffs, “I meant like, longer term. The rent and stuff.” 

“Don't worry, Stevie my boy,” Eddie says, clapping him on the back, “Once we find you a real person job you'll do just fine. After all, the rest of us plebs cover our fair shares with our piddly little paychecks, right?” 

Steve, caught out, hesitates a beat too long (long enough for Billy's bullshit radar to ping), before saying, “Right. Sure. Yeah,” in a way that clearly doesn’t cover for him. 

Billy squints at him, “We have all been covering our fair share of the rent, right, Harrington?” 

Steve nods but he can’t maintain eye contact when he answers, “Right. Fair shares.” 

Robin, catching on immediately, groans, “Oh god, Steve, tell me you haven’t been doing something outstandingly stupid, like paying half the rent, this whole freaking time.” When Steve doesn’t answer right away she screeches, “Steven!” 

“Not half! I haven’t, okay?” he rushes to explain, “Just, like,” he holds up his fingers pinched so close together, “A little more, than you guys.” 

“How much more,” Billy demands through clenched teeth. 

“Well,” Steve tries to think of how best to phrase it, “Imagine we had a fifth roommate, who's rent I have also been paying.” 

“So, double,” Billy’s basically growling now, “You've been paying double what the rest of us have. This whole goddamn time!” Steve hadn’t thought of it that way, but the math does check out. He thinks. 

“And... also the utilities,” he admits reluctantly. 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie says, shaking his head sadly. 

“Fuck!” Billy shouts and storms off, stomping his way upstairs without anyone trying to stop him. When Billy removes himself from a situation, it’s best to let him. 

“I can probably still get the job back,” Steve offers, even though the thought makes him nauseous. He’ll eat shit if he needs to, “If I tell them I was on coke or something they might actually respect me more.” 

Eddie’s still shaking his head, but more decisively, “No way, man. We’re not letting you go crawling back to those corporate shitbags now, not a chance in hell.” 

“No other job I can get for myself is going to pay a quarter as well, though.” 

Robin backs Eddie up though, “You were miserable, Steve. None of us wants you to be miserable like that, not for any amount of money.” 

Steve still can’t just let it go, though, “But without that money- 

“There’s no need to panic, all we need is a plan. You’ve got savings, yeah? That’ll give us a cushion until you get a new job- we need to do a comprehensive household budget,” Robin says, like she’s already running numbers in her head, “We’ve been way too loosey-goosey about it, anyway.” Because they’ve been relying on Steve to smooth over any gaps. Not that they necessarily knew that. They’d just hit him up for beer and pizza sometimes and called it a Shill tax. 

“I don’t know how to do a budget,” Steve admits with an apologetic grimace. 

Eddie slings an arm over his shoulders and tries to pull him into some kind of wonky headlock while Steve resists him easily, “Don’t you fret, for you are a very lucky boy, with three wonderful roommates, whose collars are all extremely blue. We’ll show you the ropes.” 

“You know what the easiest expense to cut is?” Robin says brightly, “Cigarettes.” 

“You know what!” Eddie wheels on her, suddenly apparently at his limit on the whole smoking thing. 

Steve watches them bicker back and forth for a couple minutes. Even though it’s clear that this has been building for a while, and of course the inescapable heat doesn’t help, Steve can’t help but feel like it’s his fault for dropping a stress bomb on their heads. Or at least it feels very reminiscent of watching his parents fight about the wallpaper when what they really want to fight about is their miserable marriage. What’s the word for that? Displacement? 

Eventually he slips out, leaving Robin and Eddie to their squabbles he can’t really contribute to one way or the other and heads upstairs.

Billy's not in his room, but Steve didn’t really expect him to be. 

Halfway up the flight of stairs from the second floor to the third there's a window, and outside the window is a strip of roof, about five feet wide by ten feet long, and gently sloped, covering their porch below. Billy likes to sulk out there, especially since the weather turned, though not quite so much since it turned mean.  

Sure enough, the window is ajar and Steve can smell smoke. 

He sticks his hands out the window, palms out, he comes in peace, “I’m coming out,” he says, “Please don’t hurl me off the roof.” 

Billy doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t bite Steve’s head off either, which from him is basically an engraved invitation. 

Steve hauls himself up onto the little stretch of roof, crab walking over ‘til he can plant his butt next to Billy. Even though the sun is sinking fast the heat hasn’t broken at all. 

He snags the cigarette right out of Billy’s mouth as he settles next to him and takes a long, indulgent drag. He only grimaces a little at the taste, Billy and his fucking Marlboros. 

“Ooooh,” Billy deigns to speak to him, snatching his smoke back, “Robin's gonna be mad at you,”  

“More or less mad than when I tell her I'm not going to Hawkins this summer?” 

Billy's hand freezes with the cigarette just about back to his mouth. His lips, already parted to accept it, now just hanging slack pointlessly. “Seriously?” 

Steve shrugs, shooting for nonchalance, missing by a mile probably. “Figure I can do without getting the full rundown on what an embarrassing disappointment I am in person. I’m sure I’ll get the CliffsNotes from our answering machine anyway. Those were always more my speed.” 

He figures they'll share a laugh at that, but when he looks over Billy's not laughing. In fact, he's not even smiling, he just takes a rough drag off the cigarette and then hands it back to Steve without prompting. “If your dad leaves any blowhard message on our machine, I’m deleting them.” 

Steve’s not sure what to say to that so for a while they just pass the butt back and forth in silence until he screws up his courage to ask, "What about you? You mad at me?” with a wince, “About the rent thing.” 

“Well I’m not fucking thrilled about it, Harrington.” 

Yeah, that was obvious. 

Billy runs an agitated hand through his hair leaving his curls, already frizzy from the humidity, even more messed up. “Thought- it felt like we were making it. Doing it for real, you know? Standing on my own two feet like a man,” he scoffs to himself, “ Stupid.” 

Billy’s got a very specific tone he does when he’s quoting his dad, and Steve fucking hates it. 

“You are,” Steve insists. Billy quirks an eyebrow at him, and Steve scrambles to clarify, “Making it. Not stupid. You’re making it.” 

“Not without a heaping helping of charity apparently. I can’t-” 

“It wasn’t charity, dickhead!” Billy’s mouth snaps shut, and thank god for that, because Steve has no more interest in hearing what Neil Hargrove would have to say about his son than Billy does in suffering through phone messages from Richard Harrington. “It just made sense. I took that stupid job from my dad, and the paycheck was the only good goddamn thing about it. And you guys have all this other stuff going on. You and Robin have school, and Eddie’s trying to do his whole music thing. I mean, what the hell else was I supposed to do with all that stupidly easy money I was barely really earning? Other than use it to buy you guys food, and beer, and, yeah, pay the fucking rent!” He’s worked up a good head of steam, but he deflates immediately in the wake of his outburst, “I mean, what the hell else am I bringing to the table here?” 

Suddenly self-conscious in the silence that follows, and way too aware that he’s breathing a little heavy, Steve snatches the cigarette from Billy’s hand. Takes a huffy little puff, like someone who doesn’t know how to inhale, then takes a slower, more measured one. 

“You sell yourself short, you know,” Billy says, uncharacteristically quiet. Steve looks over at him, but Billy's not looking back, he's gazing out across their neighborhood instead. 

“Look,” he goes on, slow and awkward, “I don’t exactly know where I'd be right now, if not for you. But, I know I wouldn’t be here .” He throws his arms out wide to encompass all of New York City, and their whole life here. 

It's not like they have a spectacular view or anything, they're not up remotely high enough for that. Their sagging little strip of roof, on their rundown building, isn’t even facing the glittering Manhattan skyline. Down below them a taxi driver is shouting at a truck that’s blocking a cross street. The humidity is oppressive and the heat makes the streets stink like garbage, and it’s not like it’s any cooler in the house. 

Their whole life here? It doesn’t actually look like very much from the outside. 

Steve gets it though. 

He jostles their shoulders together, “You would have gotten out. You would have made it anyway.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Billy plucks the cigarette out of Steve’s grasp, kills the last of it and pitches the butt to the street below. Steve watches the glowing trail of the cherry as it falls. 

“You know,” Billy says after a long stretch of mostly comfortable silence, “If you don’t go to Hawkins, you’re gonna have to let Eddie drive the beemer.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He waves off the thought, “Can’t be helped. I need to start the job search anyway.” 

Steve thinks about that process for all of thirty seconds before he groans, “Man, my resume is gonna be so fucking weird.” Steve lists his employment record out on his fingers, “Scoops Ahoy, burned down. Family Video... I don’t think I gave notice at Family Video, I think I just left and didn’t come back. Kensington Group Limited, assaulted a co-worker with stationary.” 

“Well, if all else fails, you know Eddie would love to fake some references for you,” Billy says, “Bet he’ll do voices and everything.” 

“Just what I need. A reference from Gondelf.” 

Billy snorts a laughs, “It’s Gandalf, you know it’s Gandalf.” He’s right, Steve knows that, because Eddie never shuts up about that book. 

“Mmm, pretty sure it’s Gondelf. I mean, he’s an elf, right?” Billy just rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, and listing a little towards Steve. 

“Billy,” Steve speaks softly, earnestly. Billy hums back a question, “Would you... get me a job at the diner?” 

Billy explodes with laughter, “Fuck no!” 

“C’mon,” he wheedles, through his own laughter, “We can commute together! Sal loves you. Be a pal, put in a good word for me!” 

Billy punches him in the shoulder, “Sure, I’ll tell him you’re a chronic masturbator and that I’ve never seen you wash your hands.” 

“Thanks, buddy. I really appreciate that.” 

Billy grabs the shoulder of Steve’s shirt and rattles him around a bit like a dog with a squeaky toy, “I’m going to shove you off this roof,” he threatens through laughter. 

They lapse into giggly silence and then just silent silence. Billy keeps his grip on Steve’s shirt like he’s worried he might actually go toppling over the edge after all if Billy doesn’t keep a tight hold. 

Or maybe he’s just forgotten that his hand is there. 

“Hey,” Steve says after a while, just to get Billy to look him in the eye, “We’re gonna be fine,” he reassures him once he has. 

Billy’s undivided attention is always intense, eyes like blue lasers locked on to a target. It used to freak Steve out in high school, but he’s gotten used to it. It’s just how Billy is. Sharp like that. 

Sharp enough that he reads Steve like a goddamn book and knows that as much as Steve really was trying to reassure him, he was also, maybe just a bit, fishing for reassurance too. 

“We’re gonna be fine,” Billy parrots. 

They stare at each other, probably for too long, sitting in a little loop of comforting and being comforted. And Steve, he believes it. They’re gonna be fine. 

They have each other.

[bluestjayy]

Life update:

I didn't make my deadline.

After approximately 200 applications, only 6 (first stage) interviews, 3 (second stage interviews), and more rejections than I could cope with some days, I unfortunately haven't been able to find a job since being laid off in September. This means I can no longer stay in my apartment. Which. Sucks.

I'm lucky enough to have my parents to fall back on, so I'll be moving back to their bungalow until I can find something to support me and save up enough money to come back to the city, so that's something. But it's also not going to be great for me while I'm there.

My hometown is an incredibly small mining town in the rural north-east, it's ridiculously close minded and conservative. I'm not out to any of my family for this reason, so I am for sure signing up for a minimum of a year being misgendered and stomaching casual bigotry from everyone I'm surrounded by.

And I love my parents, but our relationship isn't the best. They have a lot of really unhealthy, toxic, and occasionally abusive behaviours, and the way they treat each other and me is really... well it's not always good. Which is part of the reason I not only moved out but to a city that's 3 hours away in the first place. Their home is not intended for anyone but the two of them, it is incredibly small, and I will be living in a second room that only fits a camp bed and a small desk with very little privacy as this room is also where some of the utilities are. It's something, and I am so lucky to have this option at all vs complete homelessness. But I also know the toll this is all going to take on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I have already had to start looking at my current possessions, over 4 years of the life I built here, and decide which parts I get to keep and which I now have to leave behind.

Being back there is going to be... I don't know. I get into dark places whenever I go home for the holidays for a few days so living there again... I really don't know.

I guess the only thing keeping me going is the idea I will be able to come back to the city I'm in right now, the one I call home, eventually. It's just going to take some time.

And I have a plan, I am already job hunting for remote roles I can do back there, I'm open to taking on two or three if necessary, and I've started working on opening an Etsy store for some of my crafting creations that may also help me fundraise the money to leave a lot faster. Perhaps I'll even consider commissions again.

But it's definitely going to be a long long year getting myself back on my feet again.

One of the only upsides currently is how much time I have to be working on fic and art (whenever the muse allows me!) so that's something I guess haha.

Anyway, thoughts and love and support and virtual hugs go a long way for me rn, and if you're so inclined (absolutely 100% not necessary but every little helps) here is the link to my tip-jar:

Ko-Fi

Even just giving this post a share would really help me right now. Those who know me know I find it really difficult to ask for help even when I'm in desperate need of it but I think, after six weeks of this reality slowly creeping up on me, I have reached a point where I am ready to say I really need it.

The fandom communities I have found myself in the last year have been an absolute rock for me. And I am so glad I get to be a part of them with you all.

In the end, it will be okay. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Positively rebellious and rebelliously positive.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you all so much 💛