#i fought tooth and fucking nail to get to this point but got told i cant get what i want. what would make me happy

[teslacarbombz]

i wanna feel it (being fucking happy for once in my goddamn pathetic excuse for a life)

[sorikufeels]

https://www.tumblr.com/pondrea/748403783611105280/dont-you-recognise-me

amazing art by pondrea (link above!!!) got me feeling things (the art is so good op!!!!!! 💚) and now i need to yap about this scene lol it’s of the moment zexion disguised himself as sora to riku in com.

(i hope it’s ok to post the link here! let me know if not!)

i’m CONVINCED what zexion said to riku as sora this still haunts riku to this day. it wasn’t even sora who said all that, but i’m sure the fear of how it played out in com actually playing out with the real sora scared riku to death. the fear of this happening led to him walking away from sora first, not even giving him the chance just in case there was a repeat scenario. sure, there was a lot of self hatred and feeling like he didn’t deserve to see sora as well, but the look on riku’s face tells you that this scarred him. this was his biggest fear. he rather fade to darkness than go through this again and isn’t even willing to risk that it could go another way.

anyway, this is just context for what i actually want to talk about lmao

so this is probably one of worst moments for riku right? utterly rejected by his best friend and now that friend was willing to kill him for who he is now. and it wasn’t even real.

but you know who that was real for? sora. in hollow bastion. utterly rejected by riku. his only means of defense taken, basically left to die. and then riku fought him tooth and nail until he lost and sora let him run away.

you know who got closure for their version of this scene? riku. he got it when sora fell to the ground on his knees in the world that never was, when he said he looked everywhere for him and told him he was still riku no matter what. sora told him exactly what he needed to hear to reassure him that sora didn’t think any of things riku feared he did. sora telling him specifically that he was still riku no matter what showed riku that sora stills wants him around. even if he looks like their enemy and even if he did some real awful things, he’s still riku and that’s enough. riku as he is is enough for sora. always has been.

you know who never got anything like that? sora. in fact, the conclusion that sora found to get him through is that he’s not enough. his friends are his power. alone, he has no strength. he only made it through by relying on a complete stranger he managed to befriend. if beast wasn’t there or if he refused to go with sora, would he have survived? he had magic but that would run out eventually. would he have even made it to the room he fights riku in?

i don’t think he thinks he would’ve. in kh3, he says alone, he’s worthless. he’s held that sentiment this entire time. no one told him otherwise. (until riku’s sacrifice but it’s murky about whether sora even remembers that at this point. but even if he does, it wasn’t like the scene in the world that never was. sora was able to dictate exactly what riku needed to hear with no imminent threat and riku was not emotionally compromised like sora was in the keyblade graveyard. riku was able to process everything sora said. that is a far cry to sora screaming in agony over all his friends dying, sora believing wholeheartedly that he's nothing without them, and riku just saying he believes in him. sure, thats what sora needed in that moment to save everyone, but it's not a response to his fears and insecurities established in kh1 like how what sora says to riku is a response to his fears and insecurities established in com.)

at this point, i think it’s obvious that sora knows riku’s changed from kh1 and that he doesn’t believe the same things. sora knows he cares based on his actions and how he saved him too and we know as an audience how dedicated he is to him. but it fucks me up to think that riku got that verbal closure while sora never did. that riku got to start healing from that awful moment but sora really never did.

just,,,, please please please please let them talk about what happened in kh1 i am on my knees begging

extra thoughts: didn’t think of this at first so sorry it’s a little disconnected, but maybe the reason riku is so horrified in that moment in com is because he realizes this is what he put sora through. maybe he made this connection himself and feeling what it was like to be on the other side of it, on sora’s side, horrified him. what’s worse, in riku’s mind, is that riku deserves to be in this position and deserves to be rejected due to his past actions. but sora never deserved it. maybe that contributed to why the self loathing spiral got worse after com.

[itspdameronthings]

Benny the Rookie Pt.1

Summary: At long last! Finally finished it! Tale of Benny as a rookie cop. Story follows him visiting his young wife. Sweet moments followed by some smut. no minors!

Benny’s point of view:

Hard to believe that I'm a cop. Okay, I just graduated last month. Rookie? Haven't been one since I was a teen. Training wasn't that bad. Runnin and shit piece of cake! Shootin no problem. Codes? That was a bit of a problem. I got it down when I remembered how I used to study in the Army. Another plus? Get to see my wife.When I go to the hospital after dropping off a punk to be checked out. Hard to believe that Gracie Garcia is my wife. Took Pope a long time to accept us as a couple. Oh how he fought tooth and nail to keep us apart. Want to protect his baby sister. Have been in love with her since.. She was 18 yrs old. I was .. cough cough 24 at that time. Age is a fucking number. Now.. she is an ER nurse who gets to see her from time to time. Oh I love to see her in action. Love it even more when she patches me up. So gentle with me until…. She finds out how I got hurt. 

Grace’s Point of view: 

Slow night in the trenches. Boring! Nothing to do but to do is either do chart review, practice on stitches. Until I hear a family voice. Oh that sexy, southern drawl . Exting exam room 1 see my poor Benny! Arm bleeding! Rushed over,” Oh Benny! What happened? “ Look into my brown eyes. Taking a deep breath,” You are gonna kill me.”  Oh I hate when he says that! Seems like every fucking time those words comes out of his mouth. Means two things. One he might need stitches,or two have to admit him. Hope option two doesn't come into play. His partner helps me to exam room 1. Moved my mess on the exam table. Meaning my laptop,and charts. Benny sits on the table trying to act like he is so mighty. Looked at his partner,” I know you don't know me very well. Gonna cut to the chase. If there is any lying

  on how this injury happened? I'll make sure you get the most ruthless doctor to tend to you. Got it?” His partner nods,” understood. See we were chasing a suspect down an alley. Benny here climbs a wired fence. As he comes down. He scratched his arm. Now.. if you excuse me. Have a call to make.” Closed the door so no passerby can see what I'm doing. Stood between his legs while pulling down his shirt so I can see the injury. Not a bad scratch. Sadly he needs a tetanus shot. Oh how he hates them. Looking into his beautiful blue eyes as our foreheads touch,” Glad you are okay baby. Hate to see another gunshot wound on your perfect body. Since you are my last patient for the evening. We can get out of here. Go home so I can properly clean your boo boo.” Benny is lost in his own little world when he holds me close to him. Breathing in my special scent of lavender and gardenia body spray I have on. Kisses the tip of my nose,” Love that idea sweetheart. Glad we have the same day off. Have plans for us. Can't tell ya . Would be a surprise.” Love to know the plan is,but he forgot about the get together at Santi’s . Kiss his lips as I leave to get his shot,” Forgot about one thing. Dinner at..” Benny moans as he lays down,” Ya, forgot. Hope he behaves himself. “  Return moments later with the shot. Told him to sit up ,and wiggle his as I administered the shot. Placed a bandaid on the site,” All better handsome. Now.. if you excuse me. Need to change. Meet ya outside so I can give ya ride to the station to change.” 

Both of us arrive home. Got take out. Too worn out to cook. Rather be in bed with my husband than cook.bodies hurt to no end. After a nice shower. Both of us got ready for bed. Wore one of his worn out tees. With a nice surprise underneath. Moments later after turning the light off from our master bath. Moonlight shines on his necklace. Dangles as he looks down at me. Love how his blue eyes sparkle with so much love. Nose touched. He leans forward,” Love you so much, rose blossom. Only person who can keep me from goin down the deep end. So beautiful. Need to kiss ya now.” That's what he did. Kiss nice and slow savoring each kiss like it was our last. Till sitting up long enough to remove his tee. Laying down again,” Make love to me Benny.  Nice and slow.” Benny leans forward to kiss me again. Tongues danced followed by him holding my hands above my head. Mouth on my neck.Working his way south. Stops for a moment to shimmy off his boxers. Oh love his perfect body. So eagar for his long cock inside my body. Wait till I'm begging for it. Want it now! Continues on using his mouth to work on making me squirm. Lowers his hands as he pulls me up to his chest. He wants my legs around him while grinding our bodies together. Feels like I'm in heaven! Till I feel my back touching the softness of our sheets. Legs spreading apart till I feel what I'm in need for. Long , thick cock inside my body. Arched my back to enjoy the nervana of being taken care of. Slowly his body moves while kissing me. Want to take care of him like he is doing to me. Upon saying that. Tell me he is taking care of me. Continue this dance till feeling cum dripping down my legs. Benny collapsed on top of me. Rubbing his sweaty body. We remain like that till we fall asleep.

Benny’s Point of view: 

I'm at peace. On cloud nine. Soft hands touchin my back. Slow circles she is drawin. So lucky to marry my angel. Dreading the dinner at Pope’s not ready for anymore of his shit! Thank goodness for his mama being there. Need to straighten the shithead out.

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

spinning q!quackity around in my head. like a leaf in the wind

As a person who loves descents into the underworld and journeys through character's psyches, this current series of q!Quackity's Tormentous Nightmare streams are my kryptonite. So, here's one pattern I've noticed about them:

In the first episode, qQ was confronted by a vision of Tilín about how he failed him. This isn't how Tilín really acts- during the dia de los muertos event, she forgave her actual killer. She would never tell her dad that he didn't deserve heaven, but that's what qQ's dream of his kid said to him.

In the second episode, qQ was confronted by a vision of Richarlyson. His adoptive son that he fought tooth and nail to get even a percentage of custody of, the kid that held onto his love for him through custody arguments and evil clones and stolen memories. qQuackity always cared about Richarlyson, but he was never able to be there for him like his other dads (mostly due to circumstances out of his control, like getting fucking kidnapped). During the episode, he fails to pay attention to his son, and destroys a statue of him. This damns him further.

And in tonight's episode, qQ saw a vision of Tallulah. More specifically, he saw a full illusion of a world where he was Tallulah's dad. Oscurucho told him to destroy that illusion in order to leave Hell. He couldn't do it.

Some people have taken this as a sign of his goodness- he wouldn't hurt Tallulah. He couldn't do it. Which is a fair way to think about it. But I kind of see it differently?

qQuackity has always had this deal where he idealizes things that never were, and tears himself apart over the things that really happened. See: the way he imagines his actual parenting of Tilín and Richarlyson in the worst light, but he places Wilbur Soot (a guy he's had a few mostly positive interactions with) at the top of his list of important people and pictures himself being a perfect father to Tallulah. So, on the one hand, his refusal to destroy the mimicry of his could-have-been daughter shows a level of care for her. On the other hand, it's also another failure- If he got rid of the imaginary Tallulah who was his daughter, let that false future go, he'd (allegedly) get to return to earth and see the real Tallulah. But he couldn't go through with that. He just pleaded with Oscurucho, let me be happy.

In every single episode so far, qQuackity has been set up to lose. He follows Oscurucho's instructions and breaks the Richarlyson statue? Hell awaits. He rebels against Oscurucho's instructions and refuses to destroy illusionary Tallulah? Hell awaits. At every turn, his failures are thrown in his face. Proving that he couldn't be a good father. Proving he has to stay in Hell longer.

and if we take this as an Oscurucho-influenced coma dream.

The core thesis of this man's nightmares are that he deserves damnation.

What the fuck?? What the fuck? Who the fuck hurt you, qQuackity?? Besides the federation and your evil clone and that one time you were shot point blank with a gun and

[betterthan777]

=> Beginning of The End [Pt.2]

>[Pt.1]

Dirk is gracious enough to let you sit across the room, at the vanity instead of on the bed with twisted sheets and discarded clothing. He’s even gracious enough to get you a bottle of water from your mini-fridge, something he has no trouble finding despite its location beneath a desk that was currently covered with various draped shirts and jackets. He’d been in your room before, at some point.

Or, and this was the worse option, he’d been looking over your memory archives.

The cold water feels like heaven down your throat and you hold it on your tongue while you wait for him to speak.

You recognized the attire. It’s the same suit that the upper echelon of Skaianet wore, especially when they were deciding on important or pertinent matters that required Admin permissions. Was Dirk an Admin of Skaianet? It’d hardly surprise you if he were. The only thing that really bothers you about Dirk is the fact that you’ve been so alone since you got here, and here he was– living it up on the Skaianet compound, dressed sharply and existing in the lap of luxury while you fought tooth and nail to drag Las Vegas from the brink of extinction.

You try not to get retroactively angry at the injustice of it all while you sip your water and wait for Dirk to start talking. He takes his sweet time, examining your various collectables as he lopes around the room before coming to a stop at the display case with your final remaining Flourite Octet. He moves his free hand without hesitation to unlock and open the display case. You instinctively flinch and half-raise to your feet before the coldness of his snap-headed glare seats you right back down.

It feels like every part of you is raw and being ground with salt as he opens the case, retrieves the octet, and begins to turn it about while examining it. 

“Didn’t you have more of these?”

“Yes.” 

“What happened to them?”

You shrug. He doesn’t like that answer and he continues to stare at you until you cede a longer one. 

“Some bitch stole them, I detonated them. I didn’t want them getting sold or traded around. My guards eventually found her, stumped and screaming, and brought her to my office so I could personally watch her bleed out on my carpet."

You pause, stomach twisting at your own actions. Have you really gotten so comfortable as to forget your ruthlessness? You roll the memory around on your tongue before adding in a final-

"For taking things from me.”

Dirk just gives a single upward nod, continuing to hold the octet by its two ends and twist it around like he was puzzling out its secrets. There’s a very deep and intense want to sacrifice the last thing you had of your previous life, to detonate the final octet and watch as Dirk’s flesh peels back and his bones shatter. He was touching your shit. The older versions of yourself would have done it already.

The current version of yourself is too afraid to.

“...seriously, why the FUCK are you here?” You snap.

He doesn’t like that. His hand closes around the octet and he turns to face you, his movements stiff and robotic and undeniably pissed off. He takes several steps to narrow the space between the two of you before he comes to a stop roughly four or five feet ahead of you. He was tall, well over 6-ft. You wonder if he’s always been so tall or if Skaianet had augmented him. You don’t have time to chase that rabbit before he starts speaking again.

“We have a mission for you.”

‘We’ being who? You don’t ask, you just nod.

“We’ve located another entity using your memory and genetic signature with origins in this Universe. She is armed and dangerous. We need her eradicated.”

That was… a lot of information in so few words. You sit there, stunned, blinking, trying to understand the implications of this. You’d been told that there were universal sanity checks, that only one person per memory signature could have consciousness at a time. It made sense to you before, the rules of The Game were so convoluted and crazy that you hadn’t for a second considered the fact that Skaianet was making something arbitrary up. Of fucking course there could be multiple versions of you roaming around. You briefly wonder how many Dirks there are before his voice interrupts your thoughts and you jolt back to your body.

“If you refuse, we will terminate your archive.”

You palpably feel your heart skip a beat.

“...meaning….?”

Dirk closes the space between the both of you faster than your eyes can register, flash stepping in and gripping the arms of your chair with such intensity that you hear the laminated wood creak under his fingers. His face is so close to yours that you feel the heat of your own breath swirling back at you in the final exhale before you hold it. He doesn’t scare you. Death doesn’t scare you. Still, your body reacts, and still, you hold your breath.

Despite his words, the following delivery of them is cold and calm to the point of discomfort.

“If you don’t destroy her, you’re done. We won’t revive you. Every fragment of what makes you you will be deleted, shredded, and purged from Skaianet’s systems. It’ll be like you never made it out of the game. We will fucking erase you, do you understand?” 

He sounds more like he’s explaining to a child why they’re in time-out than threatening to kill you. 

You swallow against the fake, pungent taste of grating minty toothpaste clinging to the back of your tongue before your face splits in a smile and you can’t help but laugh. Dirk doesn’t like that. He doesn’t do anything about it, though, he stays right where he was to keep you pinned in the chair. You fold your legs, intentionally brushing your shin against the inside of his knee in a flirtatious gesture you’re both intimately aware of being a farce. 

“Fuck, really? Haven’t I done enough for Skaianet already? I mean, who keeps the supply of guns and materials coming your way?” You grin, sharp-toothed. You can see yourself in the reflection of Dirk’s shades. You have an extremely punchable face and it fills you with a sense of pride, especially given the circumstances.

There’s another long pause. You feel your voice itching at the back of your throat, feel the muscles in your grin spasm slightly as you think too much about how to hold it in place. Dirk just looms, silently, so close you can’t breathe and bears his weight down on the arms of the chair you were now glued into. You know he wants you to speak first, to walk back what you said, and you silently refuse.

After what feels like minutes, he finally speaks.

“We’re aware of your loyalty to us.”

It’s said flatly, without much intonation in any direction. What the fuck did that mean? So he has been looking through your memory archives. He knew, then, that you were amassing your own army. That you were withholding strategic resources from Skaianet not just to bolster L8dy’s Country, like you were allowed to be doing, but to work on conjuring a brutal force strong enough to keep Skaianet away. Getting together soldiers to prep for a war you weren’t even sure you wanted to start.

“...then why are you doing this to me?” You ask in a feign of innocence that feels far more convincing to you than it does to Dirk.

He stands, tugs his suit jacket back into place by its lapels, and takes a half-step backwards. 

“We will be sending you the multiversal coordinates of her exact location. You will set out immediately upon receiving said information, or we will launch an orbital strike on Lady’s Country and glass it along with everyone inside, including you. Do you understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The grin doesn’t falter but you feel the cold chill of his words fill you like ice water, brackish as it crashes up against your bones and shrivels your organs. You dying was something you’d always kind of assumed was going to happen, hell you were sort of counting on it. Either Skaianet was going to dump you and leave you for dead or you were going to get killed by one of the many, various deities lurking about the multiverse. 

Skaianet wasn’t just threatening you, though.

There were almost a million people living in L8dy’s Country per your last census, families and children being some of the newest additions. You’d spent the past few years fixing the infrastructure, you’d brought back the hydro and electric grids, you’d started up water purification plants. You’d made L8dy’s Country an oasis, and while the Casino and the Blackmarket were the heart and spine of the entire operation, L8dy’s Country was doing something that Skaianet hadn’t been able to without you– it was giving people hope. 

How long have they been capable of orbital strikes? How long had they been waiting to drop this line of intimidation, to force your hand and get you to ask how high when they told you to jump? How fucking long had they known about your plans for L8dy’s Country, and was this always their goal? To let you build it up, let you grow, let you come to care about the people living there before they threatened to kill everyone? It was dirty. It was underhanded.

It was brilliant.

You’d willfully created your own weakness and served it to them on a silver platter.

The corners of your grin twitch and strain as you fight the well of tears rising in your eyes. The facade was falling, you were unable to hold the mask and Dirk’s attack had landed exactly where he’d wanted it to. He moves away from you, dress shoes that have probably only been worn on this singular occasion letting out crisp clacks as the hard soles move off of your area rugs and onto the marble floor.

“We expect total compliance by the time we send our correspondence. If we do not detect you leaving this Universe within 24 hours of receiving our orders, we will issue the kill command. Choose your next actions carefully, Vriska. Lady’s Country depends on it.”

----

>[Pt. 3]

[parakaryote]

(vent, COVID)

I’ve been too nervous to talk about my personal life, but the date is only getting closer so might as well.

In late April, my father told me he’d bought me a ticket for a summer trip to Europe. It’s going to happen next month.

I don’t want this. I don’t want to associate with my family in general for many reasons. For years, I’ve desperately wanted to cut them off and live on my own. But they’re in charge of my financial stuff, and I haven’t been able to get a job because of fucking COVID, so.

And my mother wants me to go, too. And there’s no reason I can give for not wanting to go that she’ll accept.

I don’t know how this is going to work. As I talked about in the post I linked, I’ve fought tooth and nail to try keeping myself and others safe, to the point of messing with my education and basically sabotaging my work opportunities (which came back to bite me worse, lmao). My parents don’t believe in masking, and there’s no way my father won’t try taking me to restaurants and stuff. He’ll also definitely try to use the hot weather as an argument as to why I shouldn’t wear a mask.

Also: I definitely got COVID in May 2021, and have lasting side effects due to it. My sense of smell was awfully fucked up for about a year and is still weakened. My parents do not take this seriously at all. They legitimately do not understand why I wouldn’t want to go through that again.

This sucks.

[ceruleanwhore]

I got rammed by a dump truck recently, so I want to talk about insurance since it’s all new to me and my company told me jack fucking shit.

First off, the second they tell you your vehicle is totaled, return the plates to the RMV. You can do this online and don’t actually have to go fuck around at the RMV but what that does is make it so your car is officially gone so you can cr cell your policy and not be out here making insurance payments on a car that doesn’t exist. No one told me this, so I actually made a payment after my car was totaled and now I’m waiting on a refund.

Second thing is that, if you take time off from work to heal, you can put in to get your lost wages, but it takes fucking forever. My biggest problem with the aftermath of the accident was being broke and then (still) not having lost wages and, when I returned to work, not making money fast enough to stop being broke. If I had the money from that insurance payment or my lost wages, it would be different, but this shit takes forever.

Third is that they will tell you fucking nothing. You’ll make a million calls with a million questions and the super simple ones will be answered while anything they don’t like will get you bounced around between departments until you give up. That’s the other thing is you’re just supposed to magically know what to ask and which department to ask it of, or else you get fucked over. You’ll probably have one person who’s just there for your medical billing and then another person who’s assigned to your case, but pay attention to names on the stuff they send in the mail.

There are some things you can answer for yourself without calling your company, like if you live in a no-fault state or not. My dad found a helpful list of car insurance faq’s for my state and I’m sure they’re out there for the other 49 too. This actually is how we learned about canceling the plates.

The fourth thing is that, if your car is totaled, they’ll send an adjuster out to the tow yard it’s being kept in and then they’ll give you whatever they determine its value to be. For myself, I got a COVID car that was fucking $20k for a fucking three year old Corolla, but they valued it at $17k so now I still have to pay the remaining $2,000 (I’ve already paid off so the loan’s down to $19,000, not 20.) This is super fun because I don’t have a fucking car so I’m staying with my grandma and she’s driving me to and from work and now I have to pay off this $2,000 before I can even think about getting another vehicle.

That being said, apparently your insurance has ways of providing things like rental cars, which is my fifth point. Given that I haven’t actually procured this mythical thing and no one would ever rent to me without insurance providing this, I’m not 100% sure how this works. However, even in a no-fault state like mine, they can look at the situation and see that an old couple ran a stop sign and hit me with a fucking dump truck and now I can’t go anywhere and then get me some transportation.

The last thing I’ll say is to expect any and all phone calls to be intensely frustrating, confusing, and unhelpful. I was hardly able to do fucking anything on my own even though I fought tooth and nail but when my mom started making calls for me, stuff finally started moving. However, my mom literally built a file for me and took so much time out of her work days for this shit that she also wants to put in for lost wages because that’s how long you have to spend on the fucking phone. Oh and they’ll only be open 8-4:30 so good luck navigating around any work or school schedule at all to do that. They’ll also do fun things like wait a whole week to return a call or call your mom’s phone instead of yours for a callback, even though she said 3 times in the voicemail to call your number.

Now, if you’re neurodivergent, you’re kinda just screwed. I’m autistic and this whole thing makes me want to vomit and then stab like five people including myself. It’s deeply, deeply, painfully uncomfortable for anyone, but especially anyone who isn’t neurotypical.

[divinelysewn]

i still often think about how badly your mom despised me. i couldn’t ever tell if your dad liked me. he would thank me for being a good friend and person in your life, someone to keep you on track and care for you, and then often i’d feel like he didn’t really care for me. maybe it’s because he shows it differently, maybe it’s because i just couldn’t read him. i guess at this point maybe it’s the autism. i felt pathetic trying to seek your family’s approval. i think a part of me thought if i couldn’t get it from mine, i’d try elsewhere. your dad was always so supportive of you, i think i really just wanted that too. the many criticisms from my father left me wanting a figure who seemed at least interested in my life. your mom was another story, i never really knew why she didn’t like me… and at the end, when it definitely hurt in the moment, that was when she hugged me and let me cry to her. when i felt like i was a part of your family. it’s crazy, because i fought tooth and nail for my dad to understand, to accept you. i stood up for you constantly, defended your identity and what i thought of you. i never told my family about any of the times that you broke my heart. it hurt so fucking bad that you could never defend me back— that it seemed you never wanted to. i loved your family— your brother and aunt, especially. when your brother and his girlfriend at the time unfollowed me on all of my socials, i was confused as to what it meant (silly thing now, but the sentiment was still there). i was hurt and i asked you to maybe try to figure out why. i never found out why. i still don’t even know if he liked me. i still care about them immensely. i have a stack of postcards from my travels for your aunt that i just haven’t sent because it’s obviously too late. i hate that i never got to say goodbye to her but that’s just how the bridge falls.

i hate everything you did to me. i lost all capacity for empathy towards you when i took off the fucking rose colored glasses that were somehow superglued to my stupid face. i drove so fast that night. i cannot believe i wasn’t pulled over. i could have fucking died. and you never deserved as much as i gave you. my heart, my soul, my time, my energy. you ripped me apart and pulled me so thin that i reacted. and you hated the reaction. i did too. but you cannot poke a caged animal over and over and expect it to never fight back. i was so broken from you. you still victimize yourself, im sure, as if me closing off my affections and setting emotional boundaries because you used me as a fucking plaything was to hurt you. you mistreated me until i believed i deserved it. you hurt me and cried when i was upset. when i deserved to cry. when i deserved to be held and loved and cared for. you didn’t respect me. you only respected what i could do for you, what i could give you.

i lost so much weight because of you. i lost 15 pounds in two fucking weeks, which i thought was impossible, but when you take into consideration i could hold nothing down and didn’t even drink enough water to pee, it somehow isn’t shocking. i had a headache for two weeks due to the tears. i slept in my cold childhood room, i begged for my daddy when i came home that night, sobbing and shaking. i relapsed worse than i ever had. my dad slept on the floor in my room that night. i was so empty and broken and my stomach hurt so bad because something told me to leave you after you kissed your ex a week after you asked me to be yours. i never did. and all of a sudden we were in a similar situation again. i saw time and time again how little i meant to you, and somehow i kept trying. oh how pathetic i was, how embarrassing and disgusting of you.

i hope you think of me forever. i hope i’m in every girl you ever kiss and hold. i hope you think of me when you see the stars and tarot cards, against the cold winter nights and the frogs that croak near your house. i hope i’m in each breath of weed, the tattoos on your arms. i’ll be in ariana grande and mac miller, in coldplay and pierce the veil. i hope your memories of me never fade until i have found peace for the horrors you caused me. i can’t love the way i used to, i can’t trust the way i used to— because of you. you called me crazy for reacting to your betrayal. i hope you fucking choke. every action you’ve ever taken put you in this position. you made your fucking bed. lay in it.

[goddesstrolls]

Adjire stepped into Adderhead, and walked right up to Missah at the bar.

“The back door is jammed. Go figure out–”

A glass smashed into Adjire’s back from behind, and he whirled around. He scanned the bar, packed with lowbloods and trolls adorned in various bright colors- But didn’t see any obvious perpetrator.

“Who threw that?” He snarled.

Silence. Every gaze was on him, full of vitriol.

“I said, who the fuck threw that?!” His voice raised to a roar, and still no one replied. He whirled around to look at Missah, who shrugged.

“Heard you ran Wolf out,” a snide voice called from somewhere in the bar. Adjire whirled around again, but couldn’t pinpoint the sneer. 

“Wolf was deadweight! He didn’t do shit!” Snarled Adjire.

“Did helluva lot more than you do!” One of the trolls at the back of a packed table crowed. “Tatted us up and bled for us in the ring! Didn’t stick his ‘lil fingers in our pockets neither!”

Several trolls snickered in response. Adjire, red in the face, pointed a ringed finger at the jeering troll. “You. Get out of my bar.”

“Ooh, you gonna run me out too? You gonna run out everyone here?”

“I pay you fucks!” Spat Adjire, trembling with rage. “You bet, you win, and I pay you!”

“Dogbite’s got a higher payout, I heard. They don’t skim so much of it,” another troll spoke up, gaze on Adjire. “Ole’ Runner don’t walk around wearin’ gold and jewels neither. Real good guy, him.”

Panic showed through Adjire’s anger. He pointed at the first troll who had jeered at him again. “I told you to get the fuck out of my bar!”

He whirled around, searching; “WHISTLER! Where the hell are you?!”

“Right here, boss.” A tall, thin bronzeblood spoke up from his spot leaning on the back wall, having slipped in sometime during the taunting.

“Kick him out already!” Snarled Adjire. Whistler took one look at the trolls at the table between him and the jeering troll, and then shrugged.

“No can do. You don’t pay me enough to get jumped by the entire bar.”

“None of these fucks are gonna lift a finger. Take out the trash already.” Adjire growled, and then turned around to address the bar. 

“This is my bar!” He slammed a palm to his chest as he roared. “And not a single one of you pieces of trash are going to shit-talk me in it! I own you! WHISTLER!” He whirled around to look at Whistler again, who hadn’t moved. “I TOLD YOU TO THROW THIS PIECE OF SHIT OUT!”

At the same time, several trolls behind him stood. Pulling weapons out of their pockets, from under their tables.

Missah took her shotgun out from under the bar and began to load it, which caught Adjire’s attention.

“Nobody likes a tick, Jir.” Missah pointed the shotgun at Adjire’s face. “And I see one that’s gotten real fat on our blood.”

Whistler began to whistle a low tune.

Adjire stared at her for several terrified moments, before turning and trying to flee.

The other trolls in the bar didn’t let him get to the entrance.

Adjire fought back tooth and nail, but tooth and nail wasn’t much against spiked bats and knives.

The bar’s residents pulled off his valuables, exclaiming at the sheer amount of wealth Adjire had carried on him- And began passing everything around, handing off his rings and hundred-caegar pieces. 

Whistler stepped in to make sure everyone got their fair share, and while he did, Harkes sidled up to the bar. Missah poured herself and him two glasses of whiskey on the rocks.

“Ooh, is this the good stuff?” Harkes remarked after taking a sip.

“What I took from Jir’s stash, yeah.” Missah said. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem.” Harkes winked, exaggerating the gesture to make sure it got through his sunglasses, and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with a smirk.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Stranger Things Have Happened (Stranger things Hendersonxreader! HC's)

Description: Y/N Henderson is loved by all and feared by few, here are a bunch of head cannons between you and the characters of stranger things season four.

Character(s): eleven, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, will, max, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, Robin, Erica, Eddie, Billie (wdym he's dead??)

Warning(s): spoilers?? (Not really, this is pretty freeform), The byers and El are still in Hawkins, Gay, cursing, smutty?, Fluffy, drugs, alcohol, death, and that should b it (read at ur own risk)

A/n: I'm back! I haven't posted an x reader or hc since 2020 ! Those were strictly also for AOT (but if you're like me and a fan of both please feel free to check out my other works) I love stranger things and if u look at my old master list you'd see that I had originally planned to write for that series as well. If u guys like this let me know, if u guys wanna see more aot let me know, or literally anything else- lmk

Word Count: 3K

Song: running up that hill - Kate bush

*all gifs used are not mine and full credit goes to the owner :)

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For most of your life, until the summer before your junior year, you had been considered pretty much an outcast. Weekends and free time was spent with you playing dnd and practically constructing campaigns for your brother and his friends by yourself. By the time you were fifteen you were a level 10 dm.

While this was fucking sick for you and your brothers friends- the rest of Hawkins didn't agree. Not only that, but you had your younger brothers signature curly short hair, and black, thick, wide lense glasses and large metal trapping around your teeth (braces).

For many years, your only friends were the friends your brother had. Which didn't score you any points amongst your peers. However, when shit hit the fan in Hawkins you fought like a total badass, and became friends with some of the older Hawkins kids who went to your school. (Nancy, Johnathan, and Steve.)

When Max and her brother Billy arrived, you were just a sophomore. When you, Steve, Max, Lucas, and Dustin all got stuck in a bus you and Steve had to fight tooth and nail to get those kids to safety, Billy Hargrove repaid you by almost hitting your bike (with you on it) with his car.

Then, when you went to summer camp- and your younger brother Dustin went to his own, you returned looking like you belonged on some sort of calendar. Robin and Steve couldn't look you in the eye. Robin, you became fast friends with, she shared your love of making Steve's life miserable. You worked with Billy as a lifeguard, and he followed you around like a puppy. Which, considering how you feel about Billy could be regarded as a win or a loss.

Now, here you are. A senior in high school, and a cheerleader. (Nancy told you to try out after noticing how flexible you were when the two of you were fighting alongside one another at the mall). You know everyone and everyone knows you- so, let's get these head cannons started shall we?

A very drunk and a very high y/n

You weren't BIG on partying. You would've much rather been home, dancing around your room, hair brush in hand, singing some Madonna song- but here you are, after a big win for hawkins basketball team, in a very crowded and loud living room party.

You're wearing the cutest mini skirt and the cutest top, both outlining your delicious curves. Your hair is teezed to the nines into a semi-space bun. (Your love for Star Wars endures). However, your makeup is slightly smeered, and your eyes are glassy.

You've had about four red solo cups too many, and you've been spoon fed a blunt. It's a wonder you can walk. You giggle as you shuffle through the crowd of teenagers. "Y/n? Y/n Henderson?"

You paused, turning around to see Billy Hargrove give you a once over. If your face wasn't already warm with the alcohol, you would've blushed. "Billy!" You teetered over, and he helped you keep balance.

"having a good time?" He laughed, but gently moved a stray hair from your face. You leaned into his touch. Usually, you would've threatened him or tried to hit him, but at the moment you were choosing to live, laugh, love instead pain, war, and homicide.

"yesss." You drew. Billy smiled. "Where's Chrissy? She didn't leave you like this, did she?" You frowned. You couldn't really remember, actually. "I don't know, I think she went to the bathroom." You were yelling now, over the pulsing music. He nodded. "Lets get you some water."

He went to move, but you pulled him towards you instead, and suddenly you were meer inches away. Billy bit his bottom lip. "Stay." He shook his head. "I'll be right back." He let go, and moved to the kitchen. However when he did, the song changed. "I love kate bush." You smiled, and began to sway your hips, moving backwards from where you stood.

Then, suddenly you're plowed into from behind. Luckily for you, it's Eddie Munson.

Eddie had referred to you as his dream girl, because, you definitely were. Not only were you hot but you were also a god at dnd. Best of both worlds. He had gone to this party as a main distributor of goods, and hadn't expected you to be there. So when he bumped into you, and immediately caught you before you hit the ground, he was FLOURED.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and touched his nose to yours. "Hey motley Crue, what's the damage?" Your voice was lower, and velvety in Eddie's ears. "I'm-I was-I am- I, uh, Just dropping off some..." He frowned at your dazed expression. Then he smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. "Are you drunk, Henderson?"

You laughed. "Maybe I am Eddison. What are you going to do about it?" You booped his nose. Eddie shook his head. "Yeah, alright." He immediately walked (closer to carry) you out, through the crowd and to his car. He drove you home, expecting only your little brother to be there.

Little did he know...

"Is that your sister, Dustin?" Erica stood at the window looking out the front yard, and Dustin frowned. "My sister is at a sleepover right now-" "Nope, that is definitely y/n." Max grimaced, standing next to Erica at the window.

Dustin frowned and came around to where they stood, Steve following pursuit. When they arrived to stand behind Max and Erica, Dustin smacked his forehead. Eddie Munson was carrying you through their front yard, and you weren't making it easy, flopping around the poor guy like he was a pole and you a stripper.

Eleven, Mike, Lucas, will, Nancy, Johnathan, and Robin all now stood at the window, watching Eddie all but drag you to the front door. "Oh shit." Dustin sighed. Steve rushed out the door, helping Eddie by taking your feet as Eddie took your shoulders.

"what happened?" Johnathan was worried, with all the weird shit happening recently he feared that maybe this wasn't innocent. His mind went to the upside down, to some terrible new creature that they would have to deal with, or MAYBE- Nancy reassured him. "Looks like one of the basketball parties." Eddie looked up at the brunette. "How'd you know?"

She winced slightly. "Personal experience." Eddie and Steve put you on the couch. "I'll get some water." Dustin pointed her to where the cups could be found. "I heard it was supposed to be pretty big." Lucas said, standing next to Max.

Nancy acted as a mother to you, bringing you water, and directing them to place you on your side. Jonathan mostly just tried to make sure you hadn't been taken over by some dnd villain and when he was sure you were just wasted- he let Nancy do her thing.

Eleven was worried that you were about to die, so she immediately grabbed your hand for reassurance. (Whether that was for you or her, idk). Eleven hadn't really seen anyone wasted before, let alone you, her idol. "What if she has alcohol poisoning!" You giggled. "El, your hands are so small!" Eleven frowned. Were her hands small?

Mike snorted and El shot him a glare. Mike nodded and gave you two some more space.

Dustin was pacing, ranting, and absolutely pissed. "Of all the times, y/n seriously!", "What if mom finds out?", "Jesus Christ y/n." And finally "she's okay, right?" El's comment on alcohol poisoning seemed to cool him for the moment.

Lucas kind of wished he was like you right now, drink and high off your balls...but he also realized that this was really, really embarrassing.

Will was worried about you, but he didn't really want to get involved, considering he had no clue what do when someone got alcohol poisoning.

Steve was fussing over you, like BIG time. "Y/n, seriously?" You kept trying to touch his hair. Finally he gave in, but only when you promised to lay on your side and drink some water. "Drink this." He practically poured the water down your throat. "Thanks, Daddy." you said after swallowing, causing Steve to turn bright red. He coughed, and Eddie gave him a look.

Robin was trying to get you to talk as much as possible. This was funny. You were such a cute drunk, too! "Y/n, how do you feel about the humpty dump?"

Eddie and Steve kept arguing about how best to take care of you, to which you interjected, "Don't worry boys, there's enough holes for-" "Y/N! Jesus Christ!" Dustin was slamming his head into the wall.

Y/n saves them

You worked with Billy as a lifeguard at the city pool. You were closing with him, and had made it to your bike when you realized you left your house keys in your locker. So, you begrudgingly went back into the pool. You heard screaming, and at first you thought, funny haha, but then...you rushed in, to see Billy being literally fucking attacked by some venom looking shit. You grabbed the half naked boy and chucked your bag at the creature, giving both of you enough time to escape. The two of you were literally hooked onto each other, and you didn't realize just how close the two of you were clutching each other until he was pushing you into his truck and getting the hell out of there.

Eddie had just witnessed Chrissy's brain explode in her fucking skull. In his trailer. On the roof. Your home phone rang and you had begrudgingly answered, worried that it would disturb your mom. "Hello?" A shaky voice on the other end preened at the sound of your own. "Y/n? Y/n oh thank God. You would not believe what just fucking happened I was here and Chrissy was here and then all of a sudden the lights and her eyes and then bones started cracking and oh my god-" You blinked, trying to rapidly comprehend what was happening over the line. Eddie had never sounded like this. He didn't even sound like Eddie. He sounded like some kid who lost their parent at a grocery store. "Eddie, slow down, what are you-" A sharp intake of breath- "Chrissy's dead, y/n." You paused. Chrissy had been a friend of yours, someone you actually really liked (one of the few people on your squad.). Like the others? You wondered, biting your lip. "I'm on my way."

"Russians? Dustin have you lost your goddamned mind?" You stared at your younger brother and his new found little friend (who was also Luca's little sister,) Erica. "Y/n I know it sounds crazy, but I promise you, Robin and Steve were taken by-" You raised a hand and cut him off. Turning to Erica, you raised a brow. "They did sound Russian." You sighed. "So there's just a bunch of Russians conducting secret experiments in secret elevator shafts at Starcourt Mall?" Dustin nodded. "Yes." You nodded. "And these Russians have kidnapped Robin and Steve?" Erica nodded. "Yeah." You nodded again. "This is like the tenth time I saved Steve's ass." You let out a huff. "let me get my bat."

"Robin? Can you hear me?" Robin gave you a big doe-eyed look, smiling slowly. "So fucking pretty." She mumbled, looking up at you from where you had her on the floor, trying desperately to get her to wake up or move or something. The guards couldn't be distracted forever. You flushed, but forrowed your brows, trying to (unsuccessfully) ignore that. "Robin can you stand?" She touched your face, gently grazing your cheek with her hand. You swallowed. "Is that a yes or...?" "Y/n?!" Your brother yelled from behind you, causing you to Jump. "Jesus! What?" He crept closer to you. "They've been drugged." You rolled your eyes. "really? You think." Robin giggled. "Funny and beautiful." Dustin gave her a confused look. "Is she talking about me?" Oh jeez.

As you said before, you had saved Steve at least ten times before. The two of you had known each other since that time at the Byers, when you were with Nancy and Jonathan and the lights kept flickering and a fucking demon from the pits of Hell came up from no where. Steve had decided to crash the party, which would pay off in the end, but not until you ended up almost getting your windpipe crushed into bits.

Both you and Jonathan held bats in your hands- although you had to admit that Jonathan's was much cooler (barbed spikes wrapped around it's too) and Nancy in between the two of you, with a loaded gun cocked in her hands. She kind of scared you, but also like "girlboss". Steve walked behind you, much to your dismay. The dude was definitely going to get you all killed because he kept freaking out.

Jonathan led the way into his living room, your heart beating in your ears. "Nice place." You swallowed. Then Steve started to lose it. Again. "This is crazy! This is crazy!" You gripped your bat. "I'm gonna hit him." Nancy gave you a look.

He grabbed the phone from their wall and began dialing, Nancy grabbing it from his hand and flinging it. You peered around the room, the feeling of unease you had only growing. They argued as you swept your surroundings, you vaguely hearing Nancy tell Steve that he had to leave. Then he was gone. Then the lights began to flicker.

The three of you stayed in the middle of the room. "Where is it?" Nancy whipped around and Jonathan raised his bat. "Come on you son of a bitch." You swallowed. "I don't think we should taunt it." Then the lights turned off, and it tackled Jonathan to the floor. As Nancy shot at it, you slammed your bat into it's flower like face.

That only pissed it off. It went after Nancy, who quickly shot at it until no bullets were left. Then as got close, you went at it from behind, hitting it over and over again. It's attention turned to you, before Steve jumped into the mix, grabbing Jonathan's forgotten bat and hitting it from it's other side.

The Demogorgon grabbed you by your throat, hoisting you up. Steve hit it at a particular angle, and it dropped you. You pulled the trap around it's ankle, and grabbed Steve as you choked. The four of you now stood at the end of the room, Nancy telling Jonathan to essentially light that mother fucker up like a fucking Roman candle on the fourth of July. Or something like that.

From that point on you and Steve were kind of like a package deal. One saving the other and so forth. Of course this was also the first time you fought or helped save Nancy and Jonathan (not like it'll be the last). "I'm, y/n by the way." You stretched out a sweaty palm. Steve, the king, took it in his. "Steve."

You, yourself had never really helped save Will or Mike. BUT you had helped them to escape, and to destroy your towns brand new and very shiny mall. Which as much as you wished you could say was an accomplishment because you helped destroy a bad guy- it made you sad. You actually liked that mall.

When you, Dustin, Steve, Lucas, and Max all got stuck in a junk yard surrounded by demodogs, it was literally up to you and Steve to get those kids out of there. They surrounded you two, Lucas doing his best to inform you both of their next moves. Once again, you and Steve would work side by side. "There's too many of them!" You called, after getting in a few good hits of some demodog. "We got to get these kids out of here!" Steve only yelled back.

By the end, when the five of you reached safety, Dustin jokingly asked if he should start calling the two of you mom and dad. "Please, god help us all if the hair ball over here decides he wants children." Steve glared at you. "Hey! I'll have you know that I'll be doing the hair industry a favor if and when I decide to have children."

You didn't think that you did much to help El. Like, the kid didn't need help, much less saving, from you especially. You were just a dnd player with a bat and sarcasm. But to El, you were a life saver. Not in the ways were you saved her from a mind flayer or Vecna. But in the ways that you took her hand and soothed her, braided her hair, painted her nails. If it weren't for you she would've been stuck around a bunch of smelly boys who were a lil too obsessed with dnd (you were just a lil better off). Can you imagine?

Y/n gives some relationship advice

(Steve, Billy, Eddie, and Robin did not receive any relationship advice because, as you would often so kindly point out to them, they are single.)

Dustin hasn't originally came to you for advice about Max, but you were there when he asked Steve. You were shocked, because what the fuck did Steve know about women? "Wait why are you asking him? What does he know about women?" Steve gave you a look. "I know plenty about women." You rolled your eyes. "aren't you single?" Dustin interjected. "Y/n, no offense but you've never dated anyone before. Also your my sister and I'd rather eat my foot off then talk to you about what women like so." You gasped. "I'm waiting to get into a relationship until I have my braces off, thank you very much! Also even if I've never had a boyfriend I still know what I'd want." Steve snorted. You gave him a sharp look. "Shut it, hair gel. Dustin, women like it when men are upfront and honest and confident and-" "blah, blah, blah. He's what you want to do." Steve cut you off. You shoved him, and he grabbed you, the two of you falling to the ground. When you landed, the two of you were meer inches from one another's face. Steve's breath quickened slightly and he gave you a soft look. You shoved him back down before hoping up. You wrapped an arm around Dustin. "Just be yourself. Who doesn't love Dustin Henderson?"

"Mike, Mike, Mike." You tutted, watching as El and Max walked away, having just seen the girl break up him. He rolled his eyes. "Not right now, Y/n can't you see I just got-" "your ass dumped?" You lifted a brow. Mike looked like he was about to cry, so you rolled your eyes and patted his back. "You may have brought this on yourself, but I think I know how you can fix this." Mike looked up at you hopefully. "Really?" You nodded. "it's called communication. Talk to her. It does wonders." Mike slumped and you patted his back, smiling at Lucas and Will as you left. Then you paused. "Wait, where's Dustin?"

Lucas was having Max problems. So, he went to the only person who knew who could help. "Lucas? What's up? Dnd isn't for another-" Dustin check his watch "22 hours?" Lucas nodded. He stood outside your house, and Dustin stood at the front door, standing between him and a happy relationship. "I know, Dustin. I'm here to see y/n." Dustin snorted. "Y/n? She'll be at dnd too?" Lucas rolled his eyes. "No, it's not about dnd, Dustin." Dustin frowned. "Is it about English? I can help you better than she can, shes terrible at writing essays." Lucas shook his head. "No, Dustin, I need-" You arrived behind your brother. "Hey Sinclair. Nice do." He took a breath of relief. "thanks. Can I talk to you." You shared a look with Dustin, before shaking your head. Dustin only rolled his eyes. Lucas found himself in your kitchen, allowing you to grab him a glass of water. "What can I help you with, ole buddy ole pal?" Lucas swallowed. "It's max. I think she's mad at me for joining the team." You frowned. "You think?" He sighed. "Okay, I know. She thinks that I'm going to ditch everyone but I only did it to-" he stopped. Lucas couldn't bring himself to admit it. You sat the glass of water down in front of him. Your shook your head knowingly. "The same thing happened to me. Not with Dustin, really, but...I understand. The best thing you can do, is to let Max know that you're still Lucas. You've told her why your playing, right?" Lucas shrugged. "Well, start there. It's best to be honest. You're a good boyfriend, and I know you love her. Everything will be okay, I promise." You smiled at him, and Lucas returned it. "Will you talk to her? She listens to you." You sighed. "I'll think about it." Lucas made a move to beg. "Fine! Fine, I'll talk to her but no promises." Lucas fist bumped the air. "Alright! Thanks y/n!" You rolled your eyes. "only 17 and yet I feel like I have six kids."

"Will, is everything okay?" Will jumped, before your voice fully registered in his head. "Oh, yeah, I was just..." He was alone, sitting outside your porch. It was a dnd night, so his appearance wasn't odd, but what was odd was the fact that he was outside when the party was inside. "Are you sure?" Will shrugged. You sat down beside him. "You know, being different shouldn't make you feel like you should exclude yourself. Everyone is different. There's nothing wrong with that." Will was silent. You nodded. "You, know, I'm different too." He slowly looked up. "yeah, me, y/n Henderson. And I'm okay with it. You should be too." Will meet your gaze. "do you think other people will-" you snorted. "I don't care about other people. Neither should you. The only person who matters to you, is you." He nodded. "You make it sound easy."

"But why does he lie?" El tucked her hands behind her legs. She sat on your bed watching as you made her a friendship bracelet. "He's scared. People lie when they're scared." El watched you work. "What is he scared of?" You added a green bead to the bracelet. "the truth. If he hasn't talked to you straightout, then there's something he doesn't want you to know." El was silent for a moment. "What do I do?" You paused. "well, if you've tried to talk to him about it and that didn't work, then if I were you, I'd probably..." Breaking up with Mike seemed rather harsh. But it would probably be the most effective. "Break up." El was silent again. "Here you go!" You took the now finished bracelet and slipped it on her wrist, smiling. "What do you think?" El, for the first time in a bit smiled a big tooth grin. "I love it!"

"let me ask you this, maximus, are you happy?" You took a drink of your milkshake. Max copied you, then nodded. "yeah. Until he does something stupid." You laughed. "okay, well, I think that the best thing for you to do, is just wait and see." You folded your hands underneath your chin. "wait and see?" Max have you an incredulous look. "Yes. I mean life is about the unknown and how you respond to the unknown. So just hang in there. If it doesn't work out and he changes or you change then-" you waved your hands. "You've seen. that's all you can do." Max nodded. "Well, well, if it isn't my sis and my y/n." Billy came waltzing up to your table. You rolled your eyes. "Don't you have a bed of a middle aged woman calling you somewhere?" You glared at your work partner, who's smile only seemed to grow from your comment. "No, I figure I could make time for a teenaged woman's bed for tonight." Max's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ew."

Nancy was teasing your hair, getting you all dolled up for winter formal. She was humming, and you were smiling because that girl had hands like a god. "This looks so good!" She smiled, "thank you." You clapped your hands. "So is Jonathan picking you up?" Nancy nodded. "How's that going?" She shrugged. Your smile faultered. "Oh no " she waved you off. "no, no, it's nothing like that it's just. You know. Hard. Sometimes." You cocked your head. Nancy sighed. "Sometimes it just feels like he doesn't listen." You nodded. "youve tried talking to him about this?" She rolled her eyes. "It's kind of heard when he doesn't listen." That was fair. "maybe you should force him to. Make him jealous or something." Nancy paused. "what do you mean?" You smiled, "well..."

Jonathan was watching bitterly from the sidelines as Nancy was dancing with some underclassmen. He shook his head. The nerve of these kids. He and Nancy were literally matching, how could they not tell that the two of them were an item? "Jonathan, what are you doing just standing over here in a corner?" He turned to see you. "hey, y/n." He looked down. "Shouldn't you be over there with. Nancy?" He only shrugged. "She's looks like she's having a good time." You tutted. "I don't see that, I don't see that at all. She looks like she wants to die." Jonathan looked up at Nancy. "I think you should go over there, and get that dude away from her. I mean she is your girl. I can't believe you haven't done it already." He frowned. "But she said yes when he asked her to dance?" You rolled her eyes. "You weren't listening, Jonathan. Nancy's nice so of course she said yes. That was your que to interject. 'no, she was actually going to dance with me.'" he looked at you. "you mean?" You nodded. "Go get your girl you big dork."

Y/n accidentally gives them a free show (they see her naked)

(the kids + Jonathan are excluded for obvious reasons)

Nancy saw you naked once and that one time being the time you were so drunk you couldn't stand. She helped you out of your clothes, and into pajamas. "Thanks Nan." You mumbled, however not letting her get anything done. She grunted as she tried to put pants on your cement like body. "no." One leg. "Problem." The other. Nancy fell into the bed, already exhausted.

Billy and you had worked together for a bit at the pool and in that time, he could never really tell how you felt about him. His charm hadn't really worked on you- he blamed Harrington for that though. He thought the two of you had a little thing going, but after bringing it up to his little goblin- I mean, his little sister, Max, he found that that was simply not true. There was no way you couldn't find him attractive though, so Billy was just plain befuddled. He whistled to himself, checking to make sure that all the showers were empty and ready to be cleaned. The pool had been closed for exactly an hour now, giving the good people at the city pool plenty of time to get there shit gone. It was his job to check everything out and then report back to you, so that you could begin the cleaning processes. The dude showers were empty, along with the lockers. So he began to head up front, when he heard your voice call from the women's showers. "BILLY! BILLY!" this was pre-demodog/spider/mind flayer, so Billy's first thought was that perhaps a man had gotten into the women's showers, so immediately he ran in there, no thoughts just charge. He ran right into you, wrapped up in a towel. This unfortunately caused your towel to drop, and Billy to get a mouth, I mean, eye full. He gasped. "Y/n, if you wanted-" you punched his shoulder, working to get your towel back on. "Billy what the fuck are you doing?" He smiled. "I heard you calling. Sounded like an alarm. I thought something was wrong." Billy gave you a sly look. You put your hands on your hips. "I was trying to tell you that the Shower in stall 2 is clogged. If there was an intruder I would've said, 'intruder!'." He smiled at you. "Next time we should probably coordinate our warning yells." You sighed. The two of you stood there for a while, your cheeks reds and Billy's body hot. Finally, you shoved him. "Shouldn't you be doing something. Get out of here so I can change." Billy gave you one more once over. "Yes ma'am." He turned, and you took a breath, trying to get some self control back. Who runs into the girls bathroom?

It was still warm from the summer, and you sat in Eddie's van, tracing one of his tattoos. "You know, I kind of want one." He raised a brow and smirked, his eyes teasing. "Little miss cheer captain wants a tattoo? Isn't that like sacrilege for you guys or something?" You shrugged. "Not if I get it where they can't see it." Eddie stopped smiling, red dusting his cheeks. "Like uh, your thigh or something?" You stopped and stared at him. "yeah because they totally can't see my thighs in a cheer uniform." You rolled your eyes and stood, Eddie quickly following pursuit. "I think I wanna get something like a D20 surrounded by flames. Or maybe a dice with the number 12 on it, because that's the level I'm on right now. What do you think?" Eddie handed you a joint, allowing you to bring it to your lips. He lit for you, catching your gaze. You took a drag, and blew, hitting him in the face. He smiled. "Hot." You nodded, handing him the joint. "Come with me?" Eddie doesn't think before he responds. He takes you to the place he got his, watching (with permission) as they give you the coolest d12 tattoo ever- right in between your boobs.

You giggled, dragging Robin past the gates of Hawkins city pool. It was 10pm, and you two were most certainly not supposed to be here. However what was the harm in a little late night fun? "Y/n, we're going to get in trouble." Robin said, although her smile made the serverity of her words diminish. "Not if we don't get caught." You laughed, tugging her along. When you made it to the water, you stripped off your shirt, shorts, socks, and shoes. "Come on, come on." You ushered Robin to hurry, only receiving a groan in response. Robin mimicked your actions, and within minutes the two of you were in the pool. "Oh my God, let me show you my dive!" You climbed out, fast walking (don't run) to the diving board. When you got in position you turned to where Robin was, watching you expectantly. "I learned this bad boy in Summer camp." You did your dive and it was fucking awesome. Robin clapped for you, but when you returned to the surface a clothing piece of your had gone missing. Robins face was bright red, and she hurried to grab it for you. You laughed good naturedly. "I know I'd get all tens of judges saw this." Robin shushed you, working like a lightning bolt to put your bra back on. "y/n, I love you, but please never do that in public." You bit your tongue. "Why? Are you the jealous type?"

Steve was actually looking for Dustin. He'd never been in the Henderson household before- at least not upstairs anyway, so him accidentally opening your door to your room instead of your brothers was purely an accident! Okay, so maybe he knew it was your room. He just wanted to see what y/n Henderson was really like. Steve had no clue that you'd be home (considering the fact that Dustin told him you weren't- because he didn't want Steve to try and hangout with you instead.) One second he's opening your door the next he's getting the full view of your curves and the way your silhouette has a halo of light that just glows around each edge of your body. He can't even try to cover up the fact that he's checking you out. Because Steve Harrington is literally getting dry mouth from the way your freshly washed hair sticks to your shoulders. Then, time speeds up because you turn, and when you do, he doesn't turn away fast enough. "Jesus, sorry!" your eyes widened in shock as Steve slams your door shut. "Sorry! I-" you slam it open, now wrapped up in a towel, eyes narrowed and furious. "Steven Harrington what the fuck is your-" You take in his form. A slow smile spreads to your lips.

Y/n in trouble!

You've been targeted by Vecna, and the group are all scared shitless, because if anything happens to you-

Eleven will literally die for you. You've done so much for her, you've protected her, you've stood up for her, and you were literally the first female influence she ever had in her life. When she found out that something had happened to you, and that Vecna was now after you- El lost her shit. Immediately she went to the group- she had been the first to find out.

Not only was she having to deal with shitty bullies and the reoccurring trauma of the number brigade, but now one of the most important people in her life may be killed. She's ready for fight tooth and nail for you.

Mike is worried. You're like a second sister to him, and even though you kind of terrify him- it terrifies him even more that something bad could happen to you. He was also worried because of the way the room completely changed. Everyone just stared at El as if she herself transformed into a Demogorgon.

Dustin hasn't felt fear like this before. Usually, it's always been you saving him, not the other way around. You have a plan for everything. Your his big sis, his best friend, and his partner in crime. The coldness that comes with your absence is being stabbed in the gut. "What do you mean...are you..." that was all the poor kid could get out. No plan, no words, no nothing. He was frozen.

When Lucas started playing basketball for Hawkins you were probably his only supporter. You rallied for him, and he realized that you had probably had a similar thing happen to you, when you became a cheerleader. So, you being in trouble made him mad, pissed actually. "Guys?" He cut through the silence. "We need to get help."

Will liked you a lot. You had been his friend for almost as long as Dustin had, and when Mike ditched dnd, no matter what you were doing you had always made time. While, you weren't Mike, your kindness still made him happy. Not to mention, you were the only person who told him happy birthday. You didn't deserve this. So, he nodded emphatically with Lucas. Then the room turned upside down (no pun intended), and everyone started losing their shit.

El was crying and fighting with Mike, who was so stressed he was turning mean, Dustin was yelling, Lucas was trying to get them to listen, and Will could only stand there, "um..guys..."

Max was ready to kick some ass. She adored you. Especially with how patient you were, how kick ass you were. She had told Lucas more times than she could count that she wanted to be just like you. Probably without all the Cheerleader stuff, though. "Guys, we have to save her!" Max had urged the group, who was practically splittering with your disappearance. They all paused, looking at Max as if they'd just now realized she was there. "Lucas is right, we need help. Come on."

Nancy wasn't sure she heard Dustin right. You? Y/n Henderson? In trouble? Taken by Vecna? She grit her teeth. "How?" The kids in front of her just gave a her a look, fear, sadness, despairation. That's when Nancy knew. She took a deep breath. "Let's get her back."

Jonathan grabbed his car, he and the boys stockpiling flashlights, ropes, music tapes, and all of the essentials. "Don't worry. We're going to get her back."

Steve practically crashed into the Wheeler house. "Where is she?" He was losing his mind. He loved- I mean, he cared about you a lot. "What happened?" He was pacing, hands on his head. "Steve." Nancy, tried to get his attention. "Steve " he kept pacing and mumbling incoherently, so Nancy grabbed him. "Steve!" He paused and she glanced at the kids, watching him. He understood then, nodding. "Alright, alright. Let's do this."

Robin kept wiping away stray tears when she was sure no one was looking. "Alright, so what's the plan?" Robin would be lying if she didn't have a thing for you- it seemed like everyone had a thing for you- but beyond that, you were like a best friend. She had been worried something like this would happen, the feeling of not being able to escape, of being trapped- maybe it had been right. They were never going to be free. "This place is going to Hell."

Erica was just there to mainly keep everyone in line. Of course, your disappearance was scary, but Erica was Erica, and if these bitches wanted to help you, then they would have to bitch up.

Dustin was the one who told Eddie. They needed his skill- a dnd master to help find another dnd master. Eddie at first thought that Dustin was fucking with him. "Yeah, alright sure Henderson-" Steve cut in. "He's not fucking around, Munson. We need your help." Eddie was INTO you, and the idea of some evil fallen wizard now having control of you, caused him to dig his rings into his skin. He remembered when he gave you one, and how surprised he was when your wore it to a game with your cheer outfit on. He swallowed.

Billy had accidentally found out about your disappearance. He had really tried to let go of what happened in the summer previous, but nope. Fucking Hawkins. "Where are you all out to in such a fucking hurry?" He snickered. Steve moved to get into his face, but Max caught him off. She new that Billy had a crush on you. "Y/n's gone."

Billy stopped. "what do you mean, y/n's gone?"

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A/n: hello again, I know this was probably confusing and probably rushed, but I had the idea and had to get it out of my head. Comments and criticism are welcomed! Remember requests are also opened! Happy reading!

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[brabe]

it’s time to love

are you normal or did you get chocked up and almost started crying while cooking dinner, listening to 'find a way' by safetysuit and thinking about hangman and rooster finally finding their way back to each other after the mission, tentatively, tenderly, maybe stumbling a little but with unwavering belief

thinking about jake letting all the posturing, all the pride, all the walls and all the barriers crumbling down and presenting his beating heart to bradley with open palms, not scared of the consequences anymore, not after bearing the soul-crushing knowledge of what a world without bradley bradshaw in it feels like

so yeah, maybe they should have talked about it before falling into bed again after everything, but they were alive, holy fuck they were both alive, and every ticking second spent not touching seemed ludicrous and downright unfathomable and them coming together felt as unstoppable and inevitable as gravity

and yeah, now, after, after, it's when it usually went to shit, when rooster's inner narrative took the pilot seat again from his heart and body and told him that it was time to hightail it, and hangman would valiantly try to keep up his shattering defenses, would desperately try to patch up all the cracks forming relentlessly in his heart and would watch him go, silently

but not now, not anymore. now jake does speak up

hold on, what's the rush, what's the rush we're not done, are we

cause i don't need to change this atmosphere we've made if

you can stay one more hour, can you stay one more hour

coming down from the pleasure-high, now that things start to feel real, i don't need to fake it and hide from it all anymore. stay. take a deep breath and hold my hand and just stay, simple as that. i know you feel it too, let's embrace it, we have all the time in world

you know i'm gonna find a way to let you have your way with me

you know i'm gonna find a time to catch you and make you stay

for all the clashing and poking and prodding and giving back as good as he got, jake ‘hangman’ seresin has always known from the moment he met bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw that he was going to let him have his way with him in the end. he may have fought tooth and nail against it, and he may not have been fully ready to surrender just yet, but deep down he's always known: it was always gonna be no one else but him. he's ready now and god help him if he's not going to do everything in his power to get it in that thick head of his that

hold on, i'll be here when it's all done, you know

jake knows now, he does. yes, he did get his heart broken in a way he used to hope happened only once in a lifetime, and he did spend years thinking that it was all a lie, that it meant nothing, that he meant nothing to rooster. but now he knows that breaking jake's heart shattered bradley's in just as many pieces. in a self-fulfilling prophecy bradley's blinding terror of letting anyone into his heart ever again and then losing them again was what made him lose jake in the first place. but jake does know now, and he's going to spend every day for as long as bradley will have him—for the rest of his life—showing him that he's going to be the one that stays, the one that will never leave him

cause what's the point in chasing if i can't enjoy your face

it's been like this since the beginning. all the clashing and poking and prodding and giving back as good as they got was always only meant to bring them right here. as the blood-rushing dogfight comes to a close, now they can let go of the breath they didn't know they were holding and look into the never-ending horizon together, wing by wing, because

it’s time to love

and if i was running, you'd be the one who i would be running to

and if i was crying, you would be lining the cloud that would pull me through

and if i was scared, then i would be glad to tell you and walk away

but i am not lying, i am just trying to find my way in to you

(and isn't that a miracle in its own right)

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—��� You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. ��I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

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[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Mickey’s Hands

Mickey’s Hands

Mickey never really liked his hands.

As a child, his dad would berate, “They’re too soft, like a girl’s, like a faggot’s! I’m not raising a faggot!”

He started to keep them dirty, purposefully ignoring his mother when she would tell him to wash up for dinner. Letting his father see his dirty hands, see that they weren’t soft. That he wasn’t soft.

His hands were always decorated with scrapes and bandages, jagged nails from biting them, little tuffs of skin puckering at his nail beds, splinters and splices from different activities from the neighborhood. Bruises from getting into fights.

His mother would frown at them, but he could see that his father’s were content, content in the knowledge that his son wasn’t soft, wasn’t a faggot.

Different scars decorated them as he got older, broken glass, someone’s tooth, a cigarette being put out, even faint claw marks from a kitten he befriended in the alley behind the Kash and Grab.

When he was thirteen his dad took him to a friend’s house, “time to get the tattoos, then no one will think you’re a faggot, they’ll know you’re a Milkovich.” His hand had been on Mickey’s neck, rough, calloused, dirty, making Mickey squirm against the contact.

His dad had shoved him down in a rickety kitchen chair while his friend etched the jagged dark words along his knuckles FUCK U-UP, along each finger, like his dad’s knuckle tattoos, like his brothers. They hadn’t warned him about the pain, he had whimpered at one point, and his dad had leaned into him, making the tattoo gun against his skin sink deeper than it had been before.

“Only faggots cry.” Terry had snapped.

Mickey made sure to blink back his tears and bite his lower lip until he tasted blood, keeping the whimpers he wanted to cry out inside, the tears locked away.

Until he was home, his mother had seen his hands and once Terry had left for the night she came to Mickey’s room with ice wrapped in a towel, and a green square tin with a balm in it that she gently soothed into her youngest son’s skin.

“You can cry Mikhailo, he isn’t here, and I love you.” She murmured as he winced at her touch along the new marks.

He let himself relax and tears slipped down his cheeks. As she rubbed the balm onto his hands, she told him how much she loved him, how special he was, and how he will always be loved by her no matter what.

A new scar appeared when she left them, he had been sitting in the abandoned building he used as an escape and cried. He punched a brick wall when he couldn’t find her anywhere, punched it again and again until he finally felt the pain of bone breaking.

Ian had asked him why he had a cast around one hand, and two fingers in splints on the other when he saw him next. He caught the redhead curiously looking at his hands when he came to work.

Mickey had ignored him and flicked through the magazine that he had been looking at on the counter.

Pale freckled hands reached out and gingerly touched his fractured ones, a hot searing went through Mickey, but it didn’t hurt.

“I’m sorry about whatever happened. If you need anything, I don’t mind being your hands for you.” 

“They’re just hands man.” Mickey muttered, feeling a blush along the back of his neck.

“But they’re your hands, and I like your hands.” Ian murmured softly.

Mickey looked up surprised, expecting Ian to have a goofy look on his face like he usually did, but the look there was tender and longing.

Mickey had taken in a shaky breath and nodded. Ian giving him a small smile before grabbing an anti inflammatory medication and pouring out the amount of pills that would help Mickey’s pain.

Mickey saw freckled fingers entwined with his as he and Ian grew, as they loved, as they fought, every time he could they were holding hands. He tried to memorize the patterns on Ian’s, and Ian would try to memorize the scars on Mickey’s. He liked nights like that.

The cool silver band over his finger feeling strange and unnerving, but exhilarating at the same time as he and Ian clutched their hands together, raising them over their heads walking down the aisle.

Husbands, they were husbands.

Mickey ran his thumb along a callous that was permanently on his hand. 

One that wasn’t from labor.

A mark that wasn’t from pain.

It was small, barely noticeable.

Just under the ring finger of his left hand.

Where his wedding ring rested.

His husband had the same small callous on his hand.

Mickey never used to like his hands.

But now, they showed the world that he was forever loved, in love, and in a state of happiness that he had never known.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (4)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(people seem to like this for now but remember, no reblogs/comments then i’m gonna assume people lost interest. so show u enjoy this please!! <3 also someone drew fanart of Reader, check it out at the bottom! :3c)

-------------

“Come ON Wilbur! Come with me to check out the huge village I found the other week!” shouted Tommy while making sure to get in his older brother’s way as much as possible. He figured if Wilbur was focused on him and not whatever ‘super important’ shit he was busy with then he’d join him.

Wilbur meanwhile was doing everything he could to sidestep and ignore said younger brother. Now usually he’d humor the much younger boy but Wilbur was sorta busy at the moment. There’s been murmurs of unrest within the L’manburg territory lately since new faces have joined their country. 

Apparently they weren’t happy about the fact that Wilbur was a self appointed president, and likened him to a dictator because of it since no one got a say in his leadership role. Which Wilbur thought was highly unfair. He’d fought tooth and nail for his country, so they could have and enjoy all the freedoms to do as they pleased without Dream and his cronies breathing down their necks.

Everything he did he did for his country. But he didn’t want them to see him as some unsympathetic tyrant who didn’t listen to his people. He’s not Dream, he actually listens when they speak, even when they say they don’t like his self appointed role as president. So yes, Wilbur was sort of busy with more important things than goofing off and finding some random village. But instead of snapping he just sighed and said,

“Tommy, I’m working. We’re supposed to be running a country, remember?”

The aforementioned boy let out an aggravated sigh, he knows they have a duty to L’Manburg, he’s not stupid! But he also knows they need to be allowed to have some fun now and again too! Or they’ll go crazy! And Tommy was sure Wilbur would go mad if he stayed cooped up inside all the time working! So this was his way of dragging his brother out for his own good.

But Wilbur was being especially stubborn (wonder where Tommy got it…) and was refusing to budge. 

“I don’t have time right now Tommy! Ask Tubbo or Fundy to tag along. I’m sure they’d love to go vandalize a village with you,” Wilbur distractedly said as he wrote down some notes in one of his books. 

Tommy was tired of fighting Wilbur on this and decided to hell with it, he’d just take the L this time. So he scoffed and said “Whatever” in the most pissed off teen voice he could physically summon and turned away from Wilbur and stormed out of the brunet president’s house, making sure to slam the wooden door as hard as he could on his way out. 

It seemed like all Wilbur did was mope around and WORK since they’d won independence from the Dream SMP. What the hell was the point of even FIGHTING for said freedom if Wilbur wasn’t even going to enjoy it?? 

Tommy pushed those thoughts away and went to search out Tubbo, he could always count on his best friend to follow him into some mischief! Unlike SOME people. And thankfully it didn’t take the rambunctious blond long to find his friend, and with a grin he ran and jumped on the shorter boy, making him yelp in shock and nearly fall. But then Tubbo saw who it was and started laughing and shoving the taller boy away half heartedly. But after goofing around a bit Tommy remembers why he’d searched out Tubbo in the first place.

“Oi Tubbo, come with me to this weird village I found the other week. I was gonna explore it when I found it but Wilbur said there was an emergency and I had to leave before I could,” he said as they both walked along the main path.

“Yeah sure, but why was it ‘weird’? Was it one of those ones that’s built somewhere stupid like half on a cliff?” Tubbo asked with a laugh. 

The two laughed and Tommy explained that the village just looked different? Like there was no cobble! Which was ridiculous because in his opinion that was the best part of villages was all the cobble buildings. Not that he was biased or anything like an American. 

But Tubbo just laughed and said sure, they could go check it out. He didn’t have anything else important to do today anyways. Tommy gave a triumphant ‘yeah!!’ because at least he got ONE of his friends to not be a total loser and go out to have some good old fashioned fun with him. 

Tubbo told him to lead the way so they were off.

-0-

Many blocks away in your village you were getting out of your ‘shower’, which was really just a waterfall hidden by thick trees and hanging vines behind your temple home. But it was the best shower you’d ever used thanks to how the water fell over you in huge sheets. You’d honestly stay in it for hours if you didn’t hate being bored just standing there. But you did get bored, so you got out and began drying off.

Once you were dry you started getting dressed in your usual outfit, then once done you paused before reaching down to grab the newest item of your outfit..

Your mask.

...

After your… horn discovery the week before you’d just laid in bed all day for a couple days. Not leaving your temple for any reason, not even to shower or eat. You’d have been feeling worse if you’d actually needed food but thankfully you didn’t, so when you finally got your ass in gear and got up to bathe you only felt marginally like shit. At least you had until you went to go bathe…...

But on that first day up you’d just stared at yourself in the reflection of the water and sighed. You didn’t have the urge to cry anymore, so that was a good thing. But you also weren’t a fan of the new horns or glowing eyes you’d had since ending up here. You weren’t even sure what KIND of horns these were?? And… call you crazy but you SWEAR they were bigger than they were before your stint laying in bed..

They’d only been little nubs before, not even as big as your thumb! But now they were at least five inches long and sort of splitting at the tips? It looked weird and honestly felt even weirder what with that velvety texture covering them. You made the foolish mistake of grumbling to yourself, 

“Things couldn’t get weirder, right?”

And as if the universe heard you… you discovered a new ‘appendage’ on your body while you started to wash your body off. You’d been lost in thought, just scrubbing yourself with a soapy washcloth when you’d started reaching around to wash your back, your washcloth brushed against something protruding from the base of your spine, right above your ass. This time you didn’t start panicking, you think you were still worn out from the days previous, so instead of freaking out you just slowly craned your neck around to see if you could glimpse the...thing.

A tail. 

You blinked, shocked but also.. confused? What in the absolute fuck? Why? When?? This time there was no sobbing or breakdown, you were honestly just puzzled. Are you ever going to STOP growing animal traits or what? Under any other circumstances you might even call the tail cute. It was small, probably just smaller than your hand and about the same shape too. And the majority of the top of it was the same color as your hair, but the sides (and underside after you got curious enough to look under it) were a soft white. With how you were in water the tail looked rather unimpressive and you couldn’t identify what kind of tail it was, but if it was at all connected to the horns then maybe deer? Or caribou? Reindeer? The last two seemed more likely since those animals’ females actually grew antlers you think. 

Having to adjust to all this new shit practically every other day was giving you a headache. With a tired sigh you rubbed the area around the base of your antlers, soothed slightly by how the action dulled your headache. But you couldn’t ignore the issue at hand, so you swallowed down your unease and instead just decided since you couldn’t control these… unnatural features then.. well, you’d just cover them up or since that wasn’t possible for the horns now you’d just disguise them?

You’d been stumped for a while on how to even DO that but eventually you’d gone down to the village to feed the animals and you’d watched the armorer leave his house to get started working for the day. And you’d noticed the mask he wore pushed up on his forehead. That’s when the idea for a mask hit you. But you didn’t know how to make or even craft a mask, so you’d gone to the armorer and asked him about it. It was hard to grasp what he was saying clearly but after the months living with the villagers you’d picked up some stuff and could understand them some.

So you let him show you how to make a standard iron mask like his, though the first one he’d made hadn’t fit you in the end so he’d made a second after tweaking the size a bit so it’d fit your face right, since your face shapes weren’t the same. But you were thankful and said so after you put it on. Though the eye holes still revealed your eyes, which you didn’t like. You asked how hard it would be to put reflective lenses in them to prevent your eyes from being seen.

That question turned into the armorer calling over the cartographer, the stonemason, and the shepherd oddly enough to help him out. They were murmuring and crowding around the armorer’s workstation while you watched from the edge of the porch where you sat idly. You didn’t want to hover over them like some busybody, so you sat patiently to see what they came up with together. 

And after a while your patience was rewarded when they came over to show you the fruit of their collaboration. And it surprised you how gorgeous it was, which wasn’t fair since you had 4 skill masters working on it together for you.

The mask was actually very beautiful. 

It was a white half mask that only covered your eyes, forehead, and upper nose/cheeks but left the lower half of your face bare. And you think it was simply painted white because it felt about as heavy as iron, but the part that amazed you was how it almost looked Venetian in design. On the forehead of the mask was a golden sun, and golden floral swirls came from the corners of the mask and curled near the cheeks and sides of the sun on the forehead, making the mask look elegant and almost vintage.

But the best parts in your opinion were the glass lenses in the eye holes. They were reflective and the same colors as your banner! You don’t know how the villagers did it but the edges of the lens were a goldish orange and the color faded into a violet in the center. You worried you wouldn’t be able to see through them but when you put the mask on you realized the lens only gave things a VERY slight blue/grey tint. So slight in fact that you could fully ignore it if you wanted. 

And the second best part was some of the floral swirls actually swirled UP past the top edge of the mask and rested against your horns, giving the illusion that they were somehow part of the mask. Actually with the mask on you could almost trick yourself into thinking you were just wearing a cool looking Mardi Gras mask! 

You clapped your hands in glee and couldn’t help the excited sound you let out as you gushed and told them it was perfect! They all let out bashful happy murmurs and generally looked shyly pleased with your praise. You tried to give them each some emeralds but they refused to take them, grunting and shaking their heads each time you attempted to push the gems towards them. Eventually you gave up and resigned to accepting the mask as a gift, but you’d definitely do something nice for them later, to make up for their hard work.

…

You’d taken to wearing the mask at all times when not in the privacy of your temple. Which wasn’t very hard to get accustomed to. The mask was lightweight and the lenses honestly helped shield your eyes from the glare of the sun so win/win. And it also made your horns, in your opinion at least, less in your face. Which was good because they were definitely still growing. You could tell. And the split in the tip was now more pronounced, making you wonder if they were like… reindeer antlers? It would fit with the tail currently growing out the base of your spine, said tail that now looked REALLY like a fluffy little deer tail since the hair/fur on it had dried. 

One good thing was that your tail wasn’t long or huge and could actually be hidden relatively easily under a shawl you tied around your waist. So that was one less thing to worry about. Though your life would infinitely be easier if you didn’t have to deal with all this inhuman bullshit. But you supposed life wasn’t fair and expecting it to be was foolish. 

“At least I’m not part some weird animal like an aardvark or something…” you mumble to yourself, trying to view this whole thing in a ‘glass half full’ sort of way. 

You’d decided to relax and unwind from your recent discovery by just taking things easy for a while. First day since you got the mask and such you just chilled and started a small farm for yourself. You didn’t need the food but the process of building the farm and toiling the earth and then sowing the seeds was actually pretty therapeutic. The repetition of it all was pretty calming. Just you, your gardening tools, and the earth beneath your feet.

The days following were pretty much the same. You’d tend your garden first thing in the morning after your shower, then you’d go off to find something else easy to fill your time. You took up feeding the animals, making flower boxes and planters around the town to make it more colorful, potion brewing, and even fishing. Which was what you were doing right now actually.

You were sitting on the edge of the pond next to your temple, bare legs in the cool water and your back resting against the side of another grass block, an enchanted fishing rod you’d traded the town fisherman for sitting stuck in the ground next to you while you relaxed. The day was actually quite beautiful and nice. Sun streamed down over you from between the bamboo behind you, fluffy fat bees buzzed overhead as they hunted lazily for pollen, and you were close to dozing off.

“Hnn! Hnn! Hnnn!!”

At least you would have dozed off if you hadn’t heard one of the villagers sorta freaking out. You looked up and saw one of the farmers panickedly shuffling about at the top of the small hill to your left. You wondered if zombies got into the village again? But no it was sunny out, they’d be burning if they did. Illagers maybe? But how would they have gotten around the bamboo and prickly berry bushes?? Well there wasn’t anything else for you to do than do see what was wrong.

You put away your fishing rod, got up and dusted yourself off before hurrying up the hill after the villager. You trailed after them down the lantern lit path but so far didn’t see anything, but you perked up when you heard telltale sounds of one of the iron golems fighting something and taking damage. That put some urgency in your gait and soon you were running to see what was going on. You rush past the fletcher’s home and then the cartographer’s right after but nothing. Then you finally round the corner where the market is set up and see at the very end of the path next to the cleric’s church is the altercation. 

You sprint down the path, yelling for the villager’s to stay inside until you ring the town bell as you run past them. You hear the doors slam closed behind you and you manage to get to the problem right as your iron golem gives one last cry before getting poofed. You gasp sadly and then glare when you hear cheering. A blond boy that was shorter than you hopped down from a dirt block tower and scooped up the fallen iron ingots the poor iron golem dropped upon its death.

You were so pissed that you ignored the nagging feeling in the back of your focus that said this kid looked familiar. It wasn’t until he finally turned to look at you that it hit you. Holy shit this kid looked… and sounded.. like that minecraft youtuber, TommyInnit.. Like eerily so. You’re glad you’re wearing your mask so he can’t see the deer in headlights (*ba-dun-ts*) look on your face at the sight of him. And your shock didn’t fade with him speaking. If anything it reinforced the idea that this kid was weirdly reminiscent of that youtuber. 

“Holy fuck! You are a MASSIVE woman. Wait, who the fuck are you?!” he said in a loud tone of voice as he looked up at you. It made your eyebrows furrow. You were NOT that big! He was just short! You even crossed your arms and told him so, which earned a snicker from the little brown haired boy in dark green overalls next to him. The blond boy scoffed, looked fully offended, snarked back that you were about the same height as a ‘bloody fuckin’ iron golem!’ so yes you were huge.

You glared at the little TommyInnit look alike and instead of arguing about your height you started scolding both boys, which they hadn’t really.. expected? At least from the surprised looks on their faces (which still had the roundness that came from baby fat). The brunet rubbed his elbow and sort of toed the dirt under his feet while the blond crossed his arms and almost looked to be pouting from the scolding.

“My height isn’t the issue here! The issue is you two barging into my village, killing one of my iron golems, stealing the loot from it, and scaring my poor villagers!! What in the hell were you two thinking?” 

The blond tried to cut in, to defend himself but he barely got out the first syllable before you held up your hand to signal for him to silence himself as you snapped,

“I do NOT wanna hear it! You treat others this way?? Like they’re nothing, like their possessions and peace of mind don’t mean a damn thing?! Shame on you both!!” 

By the end the two boys looked properly scolded. The brunet wondered if THIS is what it felt like to get scolded by one’s mother, and if it was then he’d like to avoid it for the remainder of his life. And the blond meanwhile actually didn’t have anything to say, or more accurately he didn’t know what to say to not feel like he was in massive trouble.

You meanwhile were just annoyed at this point, so you held you hand out (causing both boys to give you wondering looks) before you demanded the iron ingots that the blond stole from your slain iron golem. He got all in a huff, saying he earned them and they were just ingots- but you slapped that train of thought down with an angry,

“EARNED?? More like STOLE! After you killed my iron golem! Now give them back! I have to use them to make a new golem to protect this village.”

The blond sputtered, face blooming red at being blatantly called out on his theft, before muttering in embarrassment and pulling the ingots out and practically tossing them at you. You caught them and returned them to your inventory before shaking your head at the two and saying they should leave if their only goal in your village was to kill and destroy property. The small brunet quickly spoke up and said,

“No wait, we didn’t come just to mess stuff up! We came cuz Tommy said he found this place last week and it wasn’t the usual village so we wanted to explore it.”

Your stomach churned at the name.. Tommy. This was getting weird again. Way too fucking weird. But you resisted clenching your teeth anxiously like you wanted, instead you raised an eyebrow they couldn’t see and shot back,

“Oh yeah? And how did that escalate into killing my iron golem?”

This time it was ‘Tommy’ who cut in and said it had been an accident! They’d apparently been looking around when Tubbo (you felt queasy now after hearing that name too…) started fighting a spider and Tommy came over to help him, but in the process he accidentally hit the iron golem, who got pissed and smacked him.

“I ran from the thing and towered up three blocks! I knew it wouldn’t let up so I had to kill it! S’not my fault the bastard was holding a grudge!!” Tommy said heatedly, arms still crossed defiantly.

You wanted to rub your temples in exasperation but couldn’t without removing your mask. And like hell you were showing these kids your weirdo inhuman eyes. Though… if they really were the characters from.. the videos you got hooked on? Honestly this whole thing was 10 times weirder than the stupid glowy eyes or even the horns or tail.. Like this has to be proof you’re really dreaming or in a coma or something. What other logical explanation could there BE? These kids aren’t real. Nothing here is. It CAN’T be. The real people behind these… minecraft characters? They’re not here. In this place.

Before you could do a kickflip off the edge of your sanity into a full on mental breakdown you took in a calming breath and pushed those thoughts away until you were alone to give it the proper attention. And maybe so you could have your panic attack in peace and quiet. But right now you had two kids causing ruckus in your village. So you just said,

“Yeah alright, fine. I’ll forgive you both THIS TIME. But don’t make a habit of causing trouble in my village. And you can look around and explore, just don’t steal anything or hurt any of my villagers or animals. Got it?”

The two boys nodded, happy to not have you giving them that Angry Adult Tone anymore. So you turned and started walking back to the middle of the village, calling for them to come on. You had to ring the village center bell to tell everyone everything was okay.

Both boys shared a glance before Tubbo smiled and started jogging after you, Tommy right behind him, both curious about you and your village.

------------

(a/n: YOOO SOMEONE DREW READER FANART AND IT’S FUCKING BOMB DUDES CHECK IT OUT!!  (Reader looking heavenly~) uwu)

@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ ​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles​ @nikkineeky​ @artsimatsu​​

[machinegunbun]

Pls pls pls do more of Dirty Little Secret🥺 It was so good I want more

Dirty Laundry +

Tw: WHOLE LOTTA ANGST BABEY Word count?: 1.9k

--

The room was silent.

You couldn’t even describe the air as full of tension, it felt more like all the air in the room had been sucked out entirely. Pete just stared at you, his expression like he had a sour taste in his mouth. The thought of you with his best friend, something you so clearly knew you should tell him, being kept as a secret. There was no way it was anything but intentional, and he had to wonder if Colson and you had planned to never tell him.

You felt like you were being interrogated, not sure where to start, the all too bright lights in contrast to the dark room, all eyes on you, the man in front of you just waiting for you to slip up and confess the murder. He knew.

It didn’t entirely matter that you didn’t know what to say, because Pete didn’t know what to ask. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

It would’ve been different if you had told him before you got together, but now all he could think about was how Colson had seen every part of you before him. His best friend had seen you in the same way he had and still had the guts to look him in the eye and say how happy he was that you two had finally gotten together.

Pete knew you had slept with men before him, obviously, but this felt different. There was a pang of hurt in his chest as he wondered if it was misogynistic of him to care. It was before you had begun dating, he reasoned, it was your body, but it still felt wrong. He hoped he wasn’t wrong for feeling that, never quite confident in his own emotions.

Questions floated around in his head until he finally decided to grab one out of the air.

“You fucked him.” It was more of a statement.

“Yes.” You admit, your voice low and full of guilt

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes. I told him I felt guilty and I wanted you to know and he told me not to. He said it would only make things worse if I did, that it would ruin our relationship and his. I tried to convince him the whole time he was here, but he convinced me not to.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Pete questioned, his words hitting you right in your stomach.

“It’s the truth.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you didn’t convince him not to tell me?”

“Wait, why do you believe him? I get it, I didn’t tell you and I should’ve, I own that, but that’s not fair. He lied too, why is he innocent in this all of the sudden?” You ask, Colson was the one who initiated the sex in the first place. Pete should’ve known you would’ve never been brave enough to start something like that, especially with a guy like Colson. You weren’t a victim, but you refused to be portrayed as the villain.

“I don’t know. I just- I don’t know anymore.” Pete shrugged, standing up and walking to the kitchen. You hesitated, but followed after him.

“I get it, okay. It’s awkward and you aren’t sure how to feel-”

“Don’t tell me what I feel.” Pete snapped

“I’m not, I’m sorry, I’m not. I’m just trying to let you know that it’s okay if you’re mad at me or hurt. I want to let you know I love you and I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.”

“But you didn’t. Colson did. Over the phone. The only reason I even found out is because I called him because you were crying about how you weren’t good enough for me.” He paused to hastily pour himself a drink “and then you begged me not to call him. You knew what he would say, didn’t you?” 

“No, I-” 

“The fact that both of you hung out with me multiple times, listened to me as I talked about the other- I told him I wanted to marry you the other day. He didn’t even mention it. Do you know how much that sucks?” Pete rants, cutting you off once more.

“You wanted to marry me?” You whisper. He went silent at the confession, the pain and confusion evident in his eyes.

“Listen, like he said, the second I realized there was something between us we stopped. I genuinely thought we would only ever be friends.”

“Maybe we should have.”

“You don’t mean that.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself. “I don’t love him, okay? I love you. I never loved him, it was just sex and with you it was never just sex. It was never just kissing. It was never just laughing together. Everything means more to me when it’s with you and I really hope we can get through this.” You plead, only realizing Pete had gone silent when you stopped talking.

Pete reached onto the counter to grab a blunt from the ashtray, taking a long hit from it and letting the smoke pour from his lungs, his eyes going dead as he stared at the wall.

“And I know it’s weird,” You continued, it being evident that Pete didn’t have much to say, your only path being to plead your case or otherwise be convicted “but the point of relationships are to work together through your problems. We’ve both obviously moved on, not that there was anything to move on from, just that-”

“What are you building up to?” He asks impatiently.

“I’m just trying to explain myself.”

“Explain what? You fucked my best friend and never planned on telling me. What if I had fucked (Y/B/F)? It would be completely different right now.”

“Okay, I get that the tensions are high right now but I need you to drop the attitude. I did plan on telling you, your ‘best friend’ told me not to. Why do you keep forgetting that he did this too?”

“He’s not here, this isn’t about him right now it’s about me and you. It’ll be about me and him later. I’m not going to talk about everything he did wrong to you.”

“Oh, really? ‘Cause this just feels like an excuse to slut shame me. What? It’s not a problem with Colson ‘cause he's a guy?”

“I never even fucking said that, you just don’t want to take responsibility.”

“I already fucking did take responsibility, jackass! Maybe I wouldn’t have slept with him if you had the balls to tell me you liked me sooner.” You yell, throwing your arms into the air. 

“Oh, are you sure? Are you sure you wouldn’t just blame your commitment issues so you could keep sleeping with him?”

“Stop blaming your fucking insecurities on me! I was trying to have a simple conversation with you about this and you’re acting like a fucking child!”

“Well I’m sorry if you hurt me and don’t want to see that. I’m fucking sorry if the fact that your actions having consequences hurts your feelings. I’m sorry that the excuse of ‘well, he told me not to.’ isn’t fucking good enough for me. This wasn’t about him, it’s about you. You didn’t fucking tell me. You didn’t respect me. You actively tried to stop me from finding out. I don’t care what he did.” He yells, putting on a high pitched voice to imitate you.

“Why the fuck not?! This is exactly what I mean, you keep acting like he’s innocent!” You shout back.

“I don’t expect Colson to tell me the truth, I’m not fucking in love with him!” Pete yelled, the room went silent for a moment before he continued, calmer this time “I expect this shit from everyone, okay? I watched my back with everyone, and I fought tooth and nail to earn your trust because I know you have trust issues, I know that’s why it took so long for us to get together,” He took in a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. “You’re just the only person I trusted not to hurt me.”

“Well that’s a really unrealistic pedestal to put me on, so.” You say, your own voice lowering.

Amy walked down the stairs, wrapping her robe around herself in an attempt to keep the warmth in. You hadn’t even realized how late it was, or how loud the two of you had been yelling at each other.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on down here?” She asks, her new york accent evident. Pete licked his lips, staring at you. You could see right past the anger in his eyes, all the way to the hurt.

“He keeps blaming everything on me.” You half yell

“Huh? Blaming what?” She asked, her voice low and full of sleep. It was clear you had woken her up.

“She slept with Colson.” Pete’s voice broke as he said it, jaw clenched. You knew his tongue was between his teeth and he was biting down on it to hold back tears, not wanting to give you the satisfaction. Amy’s eyes softened as she heard this, turning to look at you.

“Get out.” She said softly, but still making it clear there was no room for argument.

“What?” You asked, your heart crumbling.

“Get out of my house.” She added, her voice more stern this time. She pointed angrily at the door, and as you walked out you caught a glimpse of her pulling Pete into her arms.  The height difference was awkward, he had to lean down to bury his face in her shoulder and yet it seemed so natural. You knew there were tears in his eyes as he accepted the loving embrace of his mother, his heart shattered once again.

The door shut behind you like so many times before, but this time felt different. Like it was the last. You wished you had known when you were crying in his arms that it would be the last time you’d ever be in his arms at all. You wished a lot of things, but it was late and the sky was pitch black, leaving the stars to wish on few.

The ferry from staten island wouldn’t leave til morning, so there was no making it back to your apartment. You had no choice but to stay at a hotel. You cursed when you realized you had left your phone in the house, nothing on you but the clothes on your back, the cold night air nipping at your cheeks. 

You began walking, hoping to find a place to stay sooner than later. Pete had a few friends that lived nearby, but the option was dropped as quickly as it was picked up. You didn’t think they’d be much for helping you if they heard what happened.

A gag came up your throat as your foot landed in something cold and squishy, you looked down, lifting your foot to look at the bottom of it. It was hard to make out in the dark of night, but you didn’t need to, you knew what it was. You had just stepped in dog shit while barefoot, and you could only wipe your foot on the grass, destined to spend the night on a park bench.

And throughout all of this, you couldn’t help but feel that you deserved it.

[imagineabrighterworld]

A/N: I fought tooth and nail for this prompt so I hope you like it anon 👀

—

Dabi had left the Nightscape for several reasons.

For better scenery, for less screaming, for.. for a third reason, and to escape his crazy as fuck ex girlfriend who never seemed to get the point that they were done. She was a phase, she wasn’t the endgame.

Did she get that as he tossed her ass out of his apartment? No, she just came back with a lighter to set his home ablaze. But the woman didn't realize he controlled flames as easily as he did breathing.

So he left. He packed a few things, clothes and whatever currency the humans were using nowadays and went up to the world beyond. His father was one of the lords of the Nightscape, but he didn't need to worry about slipping past him, Dabi was thought to be dead for ages.

More like “Touya” had been dead for ages, but that was a clusterfuck of different issues he didn't care to unfold.

Living above ground had added perks beyond escaping a crazy ex and not being surrounded by shades and wraiths on the daily. He could take on the form of a true human, not the horned and fanged form he usually wore. His tail was gone, and his scars and staples were replaced with tattoos and piercings, but he grew used to his new form very quickly.

In the human world, humans had long since developed quirks, so his flames were not an oddity. He was thankful for them when he was questioned about how he got his scars, scars that would occasionally show through his glamour. It was an easy answer, his body couldn't handle his “quirk”. People gave him sad eyes and let him go.

Easy.

What he did struggle with was the occasional demon hunter nearly tracking him down, but he always managed to turn their eye the other way. Was it testing the line choosing to live so close to a school that trained demon hunters? Yes, but he was always good at magic, a simple glamour always did the trick.

When he scored a job at a coffee shop, he was pleased to see it was a simple transaction kind of job. No one would be able to ask him why his eyes were constantly rivaling the blue of his flames or why a phantom tail would lash out and occasionally spill the row of cups behind him.

He pegged it as a ghost haunting the shop, and so it became a little inside joke within the workers ranks and some of the shop's patrons.

Opening on a rainy Wednesday, he looks around the room before lighting the candles at the tables with a flame on his pinkie finger. Setting up the tables and scooting in the chairs, he walks back to the counter and sets up the machines when the door rings, signalling someone had entered.

“Welcome.” He rolls out in a soft purr, a habit from years of toying with his playthings as an incubus. Eventually he would get rid of the habit. “What can I get for you today?” He turns around.

You were soaking wet with a satchel above your head, you were shivering and looking at the coffee machines as if they were god sent.

You looked adorable.

He leans on the counter with a growing smile. “Wet out there isn't it?”

Your gaze snaps to him. Your eyes were a soft mahogany color, reminding him of a tree. It wasn't the most romantic thing he could come up with, but trees were also very rare to find in the Nightscape, so he supposed it was based on your point of view. “C-Coffee. Please.”

“Sure thing babe, what kind?”

“A mocha cappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

He quirks a brow as he types in your order. “Three?”

“I usually get five but my doctor told me I need to cut down.”

“How about you aim for two?”

“I don't think I’d survive that loss sir.”

He chuckles. “Sir?” He asks as he tells you the price of your drink, accepting your soggy wad of cash and giving you your change once the transaction was complete. “Well madam, your drink will be out shortly, take some napkins to dry up, they’re by the sugar.”

He spots a small blush on your face as you go to the condiments counter. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He prepares your drink as he hears you pluck a plethora of napkins out of their container. Small curses are all he hears as you open your bag, he hears the clicking of latches and the zipping of zippers. You scuttle past the counter and stop in front of the register again.

“Do you have a bathroom? My bag is drenched..”

He brings you your drink and tilts his head as he debates your question. A bathroom wouldn't solve the water issue, you just thought it would.

Dabi places your drink on the counter and holds his hand out. “I can dry your bag.”

You smile, adjusting your glasses in the mean time. “You have a wind quirk?”

“I'm not a blowdryer.” He grins. “But I can still dry it for you.”

You debate his words, looking down at your soggy satchel that was only getting worse as time passed. You hand him the bag with an accepting sigh. “Please.”

He takes your bag and lights his hands on fire. You nearly scream before he speaks up. “I can control my fire, this one won’t burn anything, it's just warm.”

“Oh.” You shut your mouth with a sheepish bow of your head. “Sorry.”

“It's alright.” He turns the bag in his hold, looking at the patches and bad attempts at embroidery on its edges. It was cute. The sad little attempts seemed to get better as they reached the top, which led him to believe this was your first attempt at embroidery.

What would you do if he had burnt it to ash?

His flames were highly destructive, and sometimes even he couldn't handle them.

Maybe he was being risky to test his powers like this. It had been ages since he last used his flames for something more than lighting a silly candle or a cigarette.

“So..”

Oh right, you were still there.

He looks at you and rotates the bag in his hold. “Yes?”

“Is it always this empty?”

“Only when you're here.” He winks.

“Rude.”

“Rude, sir.”

You laugh, and from that point on he's hooked to the sound.

-

Dabi used to like his job, now it was turning into something akin to gratitude. It allowed him to see you on most days.

He had learned quite a few things about you ever since that rainy day.

You were a teacher in training, specifically the nearby high school. You were aiming for Shiketsu and had a foot in the door with the vice principal taking notice of you during their mock trials. He didn't peg you for a demon hunter, but everyone had a hidden side to them. Hah. You had two pet birds named Sweet Pea and Darlington, you had a snake named Petra and were looking into getting a newt.

You loved coffee but hated it black, it needed sugar or chocolate of some kind because you couldn't stand bitter food. You loved spicy food even if you couldn't tolerate it, and you adored sour candies.

While you looked book smart, you were also street smart, and he was beginning to believe you might be vying for a spot as a demon slayer teacher. He just didn't know what your quirk was yet.

“Hey Dabi.” You chime in unison with the doorbell as you walk inside, this time with an umbrella to keep yourself out of the rain.

He leans on the counter with a grin. “Hey babe. What is it today? The usual?”

“Just a shot of espresso this time.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels with a huge smile on your face. “I got news.”

“Do tell.” He says as he starts preparing your shot.

“I got the job!” You squeal in excitement, arms coming out of hiding so you can clasp them in front of you. “Starting in the spring I’m going to be the new first year homeroom teacher!”

He genuinely smiles. So you wanted to ruin your happiness with a shot of liquid bitter? He didn't understand you sometimes.  “I thought your celebration drink would be a sakura latte, not a shot of espresso.”

You wave your hand dismissively, already removing your wallet from your pocket. “I'll come back for one.”

“Two visits in one day? Is that a gift for you or for me?” He chuckles and hands you your espresso, taking your yen and entering it into the register.

You adjust the glasses on your face. "I figured I would grace your presence because you've been so humble as to fuel my caffeine addiction."

"It's my duty to make sure you don't kill some other sorry bastard with a coffee maker."

Your eyes flash green for a split second, and in that moment he has to keep from reeling back. Did he really see that?

The cups behind him tumble to the ground.

His tail had appeared in his brief moment of shock.  

You cock your head to the side. "What happened?"

He kneels and collects the cups. "The shop's ghost. Don't mind it."

"I thought I saw a-"

"How about I give you the latte now? On me." He interrupts you mid sentence, standing up with the cups in his arms.

The blush on your face was one of his favorite sights in the human world.

"You don't have to Dabi."

"It's just a drink." He waves you along to one of the booths. "Sit, it'll be ready soon."

You take your shot of espresso and go to the booth he had motioned you to.

The way you scrunched your nose in disgust as you drank your shot was also one of his new favorite sights.

Maybe it was just you.

--

After you had gotten your job at Shiketsu, you were around every morning to prepare for the day. Sometimes you would come by for lunch, unfortunately he clocked out on those days, but sometimes he would make sure he was in the area just to catch you off-guard. Those days he spent his lunch with you, and you got to tell him stories about your students.

It was one of your lunch breaks when hell came to toll.

His eyes were trained on you as you spoke, you were talking about a girl who wielded fire similar to him when the bell of the cafe rang.

The sound resonated through him, and in that moment he knew who was at the door.

What was at the door.

His glamour of his new human form nearly drops as he hears a woman's voice ask from the counter of the cafe.

“Is Dabi here?” She croons in a sickly sweet voice he hadn't heard in nearly a year. He doesn't hear his coworkers' response but he feels the air fill with the flowery scent of her. He grits his teeth to keep his fangs from showing through as he hears her heels click against the ground.

You had stopped your explanation and looked behind him, adjusting your glasses as you did so. “You're looking for Dabi?”

“I am, what a sweet peach you've got here Dabi~ I didn't know you still had it in you to snag such a cutie, your charms must still be working even in this sad form.” He feels her hand on his shoulder, her fingernails drumming along the stitching of his jacket. “Did you catch her, or did she come crawling to you?”

He knows he has to speak up, before she says another word, but his fangs were already piercing the inside of his lip as his glamour slipped.

He looks at you with the most apologetic gaze he can muster. Grabbing his coffee, he lifts it to his mouth to hide his fangs and he speaks. “Excuse me.” He stands up and slams the cup on the table, grabbing the wrist of the woman behind him and dragging her out of the shop and into the closest alleyway.

He slams her against the wall with her arm pinned above her head. His glamour drops completely, his scars and horns bared for the world to see as he growls with rage. “You!”

The succubus in front of him smiles coyly, dragging a finger across his scars and the staples holding his mouth together. “Aren't you happy to see me? To see one of your own again?”

“No. What do you want?”

She plays at pulling on one of the staples but is stopped as he pins her other hand up as well. The succubus sighs and turns her head, “I come see you and all I get is this. And seeing you with a little human.” She peers at him with violet eyes. “Don't tell me you've gone soft Dabi. She’s human, she’ll die just like a human too.”

He hadn't let that thought slip into his mind and wasn't planning on starting to. He tightens his grip on her wrists. “We broke up, I made that clear.” A feral grin forms on his face, pulling at the staples on his face. “I told you, if you try me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you had a human now. We all heard.” She whispers, her eyes glowing in the dark of the alley. “They know Dabi.”

His grip falters.

Shit.

Shit. Shit Shit-

He lets go of her wrists and he paces in the alleyway, flames licking at his face as his emotions spiralled.

“They need your power, but you’re squandering it here with a girl who will die before you know it. While you're full of youth, she will be an old crone with nothing but a coffin awaiting her.” She didn't sound bothered at all as she rubs her wrists. “Honestly Dabi, you were the one that taught me never to fall for a human. They’re too brittle, their life essence too weak.”

He did teach her. He taught her to keep her heart shut and to leave it open only for him. He taught her a little too well, as she now believed she had rights to him.

But he never taught himself as well as he did her.

He fell for you bad, and you were mortal.

“Anyway, I was told one of two things. Either bring you back with me, or expose you so you have no other choice but to return.”

He looks back at her, his rage quelled only by the dread that was now spiralling in him. “You will do no such thing!” He roars, his flames igniting and setting him ablaze. “If you dare go near her-”

The succubus’s body transforms into mist starting from her feet then rising to her waist. She puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back in three days. If you don't do it, I will.”

She was gone. Leaving him alone in the alley with nothing but flames that wouldn't stop burning.

-

Dabi spent the next two days trying to find ways to tell you, but with each scenario came the same question.

What would you do if you knew he was a demon? You worked at a school that trained demon slayers- what other option for you would there be if not to turn him in? It was your duty to turn in any demon that showed up at your door, and here you were having coffee with him.

He couldn't do it.

On the third day, it was raining, just like the day he met you.

He hated the mist that had surrounded the shop, reminding him of the succubus and her promise.

Three days.

He had to tell you.

But why was it so damn hard to do? He used to be cold and calculated, having his fun toying with human emotions and killing without regret. He had no empathy, no sympathy for the lives he ruined.

But you were kind. So incredibly kind.

He rests his head on the counter as the door opens. He scents you in the air before you even step through, the smell of milk and honey wafting in the air as you approach the counter.

He had to tell you.

“Morning Dabi!” You cheer as you fold up your umbrella. “A mocha cappuccino with two shots of espresso please!”

He looks up and smiles crookedly. “Finally down to two?”

“I figured I would finally listen to you.”

“That's my girl.” He chuckles as he grabs a cup and prepares your drink. His hands were shaking, but he knew what he had to do.

When your drink was ready and paid for, Dabi keeps his hand on the cup as you take it from him, your hand overlapping his. You look at him with curious eyes behind your wide rimmed glasses. “Dabi? What’s wrong?”

“If I told you I was a bad man, what would you do?”

You narrow your eyes, but keep your hand over his. “Stealing a croissant from the place you work at isn't evil Dabi-”

“Not that.” He laughs but it's noticeably strained. “Not that.” He looks you in the eyes, greedily taking in the sight of you, for perhaps the last time. “What if I told you I was a bad man, who did horrible things. Whose caused terrible things.”

Your hand tightens around his, he feels the tremors in your body before you still.

“I would tell you I know better than to judge you for what you've done, and tell you that I judge you for who you are now. Does that forgive you of what you've done or what you've caused? No. But I judge what I see. And I see a good man.”

He lets out a shaky breath as his glamor drops, revealing his true form of scars and fangs and horns. His flames curl around him as he whispers. “What if I'm not a man?”

You jump back, hands flying to your glasses before they could tumble off of your face. You stare at him with your jaw hanging.

He looks at the coffee still in his grasp. At the scars covering his body.

He knew it.

He puts down the cup.

He knew it.

Clapping comes from the corner of the room where the succubus has taken form, her body still halfway between corporal and mist. She smiles, showing off her sharpened canines. “Bravo Dabi, I almost thought I’d have to do it myself.”

You shut your mouth and look at the succubus. “You're from before-”

“I am.” She purrs. “And I’m here to take Dabi home. Shigaraki will be happy to see his lieutenant again.”

Dabi burns away his apron, leaving him in his normal attire, the stitches of his black coat catching his eye. Memories of your embroidered bag slip through his mind, though are soon flushed out entirely when he hears the shattering of tables as a high pitched shriek comes from the mist succubus.

He phases through the counter in a wall of heatless flame as he sees you covering your ears.

The shriek had destroyed the tables and windows turning them into scrap, and had shattered your glasses. Blood was running down your ears from between your hands.

He stands between you and the succubus, his arms lit with powerful blue flames. “This wasn't part of the deal!”

“Not our deal. Shigaraki doesn't want you to have any temptations for returning to the human world. We need your girl gone for good.” She grins fiendishly. “She will never grow old, isn't that the best gift you could receive?”

“Dabi-” You call out from behind him.

“Stay back!” He yells at you. “Get out of here!” But he knew if you went into the rain outside, you would be done for. The succubus would be able to drown you where you stood.

Her body turns to pure water as she rushes at him. With her power boosted by the rain that washed in through the broken windows, all he could do was send wave after wave of fire to evaporate the water.

But what was evaporation if not mist?

He was fighting a losing battle as he backed up until he finally reached you. He covers you with his body as he puts up a wall of flame.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his flames are soon put out. “I’m sorry.”

You lift your hands to his face, eyes still closed, and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his.

“Don't be sorry for the things you can't control.” You whisper in return.

The succubus’s body turns corporal from the waist up. She coos. “How sweet, one last goodbye.”

You press a kiss to his lips.

“Don't open your eyes.” You murmur against his lips before letting go of his face and turning around to look at the succubus.

He closes his eyes, prepared to hear you scream in pain, prepared to hear your body drop to the ground.

But all he hears is the loud boom of thunder from outside and the crackle of rock breaking.

Rock?

He opens his eyes and sees you on your knees in front of a marble statue of the succubus.

His eyes widen as he sees you stand up. From the reflection of the marble, he can see your eyes flashing green.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a demon?” You ask as you kneel and pick up your eyeglass frames from the floor. “She called herself Medusa. Silly, huh? My dad was human though, and well, as you know, they had me..” You turn around, your eyes now closed. “I guess you can say my quirk is having a very strange lineage.”

Dabi gets to his feet and runs at you, barreling into you with his arms swiftly wrapping around you.

You return the hug, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“So.. you're not mortal?” He says quietly, as if the good luck that had been shone upon the both of you would wither out.

“I'm not. It's my hundred and twenty-fourth this year.” You look up from his hold, he could see the faint glow of green from under your eyelashes. “Will you be there?”

He tightens his hold and presses his lips against yours.

“As if I'd ever leave.”