#i went through the little routine i tend to go through with my mom of like dragging over a chair to lay on while in the bathroom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smurphyse · 1 year ago

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Bloodied Up In A Barfight | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 3 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: barfights, fistfights, mentions of death, tension, arguments, BAU talk

Summary: You head to Tooky's bar to tend bar for Holly, and a fight breaks out. Later, Spencer finds something out about you and things get worse.

After a long irritating day of trying to fix a toilet in Room 2, I went up to my apartment for a nice hot shower, stared out the window for a bit like always, then made my way to Tooky's.

It was one of my favorite spots in town. Nestled in the middle of the bay on the beach, the ramshackle bar held a special place in my heart. It was where I first kissed Ernie right before an eighteen year old me went home with him that night we met. If only I'd known what happiness would come after that night, I would have cherished it more.

A whirlwind engagement, three years of bliss and love and the sea, all culminating in one violent night that took him from me. I should have known I wouldn't get to keep him or my happiness.

I tried to shake away the crushing weight of my own memory as I did every day driving through these streets, but some days it was harder than others. Instead, I focused on driving my shitty old VW bus around the pothole that Spencer hit on his first day. With a smirk I noticed it was bigger than the day he got here.

A majority of the seating was laid on the sand, hand placed stones that Tooky herself had put down when she first came here. She’d turned this beach into a paradise of hammocks, tables, and a small theater with a sheet hung with the ocean behind it. The woman was ancient, but she was more than happy to show off her much younger forty year old wife Vera who looked at her like she was made of gold.

The bar was open, little cut tiles shaped in the design of fish and the waves outside under a wood top. Glasses hung from mounts just in reach for servers and the mirrored back held all the tequila and alcohol a girl could ask for. Tooky had small swings on the outside of the bar walls, and the patrons used the windowsill as a table. People already milled about though the sun was just beginning to set, the ocean blue shimmering with the bright pink-purple of the fading light.

“Hey Tooky!” I called as I stepped in, that old familiar smell of cigarettes and palm fronds washing over me like the sand in the wind.

Tooky, aged like the mountains and canyon ranges around us, rested on a stool behind the bar. Blue and pink neon flashed over her silver braids, the ends of which laid in her lap they were so long. Turquoise and sandstone jewelry hung from her long earlobes and wrinkled wrists, and she gave me a big smile and a wave when she saw me.

“Honey Bee, c’mover here!” The silver backed bracelets clacked with her movements, her sundress swishing along. Tooky Builds-the-Fire was as old as the sea itself, but she didn’t let it slow her down. She was as full of light now as she likely had been as a kid.

I made my way over and gave her a big hug. Her spindly arms held me in a death grip, nearly cracking my back. She let me go and placed a kiss on my cheek and gave a sneaky pat on my backside. "Where's that lovely wife of yours?"

Tooky pointed a shaky finger toward the beach, "She's helping the band get set up. You know how much she likes the music."

"Hey Honey!" Micah called, carrying a box of bottles from the kitchen, his long braids hanging over his shoulders. He set them on the counter and pulled me in for a quick hug. He pointed at Tooky, "Thanks for helping mom out tonight. Holly doesn't do so well here during this time of year."

"Oh, I don't mind," I told him with a smile. I set a hand on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "Besides, gives me something to do other than fix toilets all night."

Micah gestured to his uniform, "And you couldn't say no to the town sheriff, right? Cuz I'm so intimidating and all."

"Oh, Sheriff Builds-the-Fire, you are the only man in this town I both fear and admire."

"As it should be," Micah grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't much taller than me, and the fact that he looked almost exactly like his mother made him insecure at times. People didn't tend to take him seriously.

Micah pointed over to the corner of the bar and leaned in close enough to whisper, "Your boy's been here all day drinking his feelings. You might wanna check on him."

Sure enough, there was Rico in the corner hunched over a glass of whiskey. I could see the liquor in his eyes all the way from the bar, and I sighed before putting my stuff away in a locker in the kitchen, then made my way over to him.

He was drawing on a cocktail napkin, and even before I came up to the table I knew he was drawing a picture of Ernie. Rico had painted the mural of him outside Collie’s, and Ernie was the one who bought him his first sketch set. The two of them had the same crooked smirks, always together no matter what. Even when Ernie and I took over the inn for Mattie May, Rico would stop by every day for lunch just to hang out with his best friend.

I slid into the chair opposite him. He didn't bother to look up. "Do you need me to take you home, Rico?"

He shook his head slowly, "I'm doing just fine here, Honey."

I couldn't stand it, his standoffish pose. He was on the defensive, but I could never resist poking the bear. It was something Ernie loved about me, but it was something Rico became easily frustrated by.

"You should go home, get some sleep."

He finally looked up at me. His eyes were wet, red rimmed and exhausted. My shoulders sank with the weight of his gaze, and he knew it.

Rico swallowed thickly, "You gonna marry me?"

"Ric-."

"I didn't think so," he said softly, waving a hand. "I knew the first time I asked that you'd say no."

"I do love you, Rico. Okay? I'm just…." The words spilled out like a geyser, but it needed to be said. I was never going to marry him, no matter how much I wanted to just to make him happy. "I can't stand the thought of you hating me because of this."

“I don’t hate you,” he said earnestly, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Rico, I can’t have you mad at me because I don’t want to get married. I’m not ready to do it with anyone-.”

"I'm allowed to be mad,” he cut me off firmly. “I'm allowed to be upset, okay? I know it makes you feel guilty but… it can't be my problem if you're not going to marry me. I need to feel what I feel, too. You’re not the only one who’s sad and fucked up around here."

I looked down at my lap and nodded as the tears welled. My voice strained as I tried to keep myself together. "Yeah… I know."

Rico pushed his empty glass toward me, “Will you get me another?”

I got up on shaky legs and took it with a trembling hand, “I’ll have Vera bring it over.”

I didn't even know why I was so upset. I didn't want to marry Rico, and the only real reason we'd started up in the first place was because of a drunken night last year. We were both lost without Ernie, and the thought of having to go on without Rico as at least my friend killed me inside.

Turning on my heel, I made my way back to the bar, the glass hung loosely in my fingers. I pushed it across the bar where Vera had made her way to, cleaning a glass with a cloth. “Hey, Vera. Can you get Rico another one?”

She leaned on one leopard-printed hip and shook the washcloth at me, “You don’t wanna serve your boyfriend?”

I felt tears threaten to spill as I shook my head, “Can you just take care of him for me tonight?”

“Sure, Honey,” she said quietly. Vera filled the glass with Rico’s favorite, pressed a hand to my cheek as she passed and gave me a smile. Her bouncing blonde curls made me feel better, as did looking over just to see Tooky watching her backside with a lopsided grin.

I let out a breath and decided to take over for her, picking up a glass to clean. When I turned toward the door I nearly jumped out of my skin at Spencer Reid sitting on the other side of the counter with a cheeky smile and a wave.

“You, uh, you made it out Mr. Buzzkill,” I said shakily, trying to covertly sniffle. It didn’t work, and he squinted my way.

“Are you crying?” I waved a hand in front of my face and shook my head, but I couldn’t help glancing over to where Rico sat in the corner talking to Vera. Spencer twisted on his barstool enough to look at him with a furrowed brow and a frown.

“I’m fine,” I told him, and he turned back to look at me. His face told me he obviously didn’t believe me, but there was no way in hell I was going to talk to him about this stuff. “What can I get you?”

Spencer watched me for a moment, a pair of not-quite hazels searching me in an almost analytical way. He seemed to scan me and know in that moment that if he pushed me I was going to freak out, so he pulled out his wallet and a ten, then slid it toward me.

“Bourbon, neat,” he decided.

I pushed the bill back to him, “First one’s on me.”

“You know, nobody around here will let me pay for anything."

"You should take it and put it toward something fun like seeing the sights," I told him with a watery grin. I leaned over the bar and put my chin in my hands. "There's a lot of great places around here."

Spencer made a face and nodded, his gaze flicking down to my boobs. He made no effort whatsoever to disguise it and smirked like a cat, "I've got sights aplenty right here."

With that I snatched the ten and held it up for him to see, then stuffed it down my bra, "Just for that, I'm keeping this."

Spencer leaned back and laughed, "You earned it."

I poured Spencer his bourbon and made my rounds, waving hello to the people who came in. Nell ambled in after a bit, waving goodbye to Bernie before coming inside. Rose and Mattie May came up to the bar, trapping Spencer between them and Lonnie and Lloyd on the other. He conversed with them lightly, clinging to his bourbon like it was a lifeline, but I saw him eye the twins with caution.

Lonnie and Lloyd Evarts were fraternal twins who just…sucked. They were assholes, and I avoided them and their leering every chance I got. They drank as much as they wandered around town picking fights and bothering people.

Lonnie was the oldest by a few minutes, with a beer belly, rough gray speckled beard and greasy hair. Lloyd was tall and lanky, over a head taller than his brother, and liked to speak with a low creepy voice. They just liked to be a bother, so I got them their drinks and went on my way.

I sang along to the music as I worked, the band playing soft acoustic rock as the street lights came on and the hot sun turned into an only slightly cooler night. Sweat made its way under my arms under the heat of the lights and errant conversations, but I tried to keep myself busy and not focus on Rico.

Eventually, I couldn't really help myself. He just looked so damned lonely in the corner by himself. I poured some water into a big cup, ignoring Spencer's watchful gaze and pleading eyes to save him from Mattie May's questions and went over to Rico.

Setting the water in front of him, I slid into the chair next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He sighed heavily and met my gaze with a watery smile.

"Hey," I murmured, giving him a squeeze.

Rico licked his lips and chuckled, "Hey."

He covered my hand with his and returned my squeeze, "I think I need help getting home."

I leaned my chin on his shoulder and nodded, "I already called Micah. He's on his way."

Rico let out a long sigh and glanced up to where Spencer was sitting stiffly next to Lonnie and Lloyd. He waved a drunken hand that way, "My mom says he's really nice. He knew she was Basque just by her accent."

"She even brought him karouga," I told him playfully. "She might ditch your dad for him if you're not careful. Augustin is gonna be traded in for a new model."

Rico laughed quietly, slurring a bit, "She said the same thing about me and you. Said he may have eyes for you."

"Oh, well if Augustin is on the table I'll take him."

"You're sick."

I reached out to palm his chin and smile brightly. "You kinda look like him. Maybe that's why I think you're cute."

He groaned and pushed at me, "You're disgusting. I'm gonna throw up all over you if you don't shut up."

We laughed together for a moment, and it faded into us watching one another sadly. Twelve years of grief and friendship tied us together, Ernie the knot that kept it all from falling apart. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, breathing in the scent of smoke and sweat on his skin.

"Collie and Augustin would have been great grandparents," I whispered, and he nodded, his hand absentmindedly reaching out to palm my empty stomach. I placed my hand over his, "They still will be. You have time, Rico."

His fingers tensed, then released, his thumb rubbing circles for a few seconds before he pulled away. Rico ran a heavy hand over his face and let out a grunt that told me he was trying to contain his emotions. "We shouldn't have a serious conversation right now. I don't know if you know this, but I'm pretty drunk."

"Drink your water and we'll settle the tab."

It took a few minutes, and some spillage, but he finished it. Rico held out his hands like a child, and I took him by them both and hoisted him to his feet. A handful of wobbly strides later and I got him up to the bar between Lonnie and Spencer.

"Vera, can you settle his tab? Stick it on my card."

Rico set a heavy hand on Spencer's shoulder, who stiffened up tightly from it. He leaned in close to drunkenly whisper to him, "How you likin' the town, hipster?"

"It's Spencer," he said slowly back, flinching away from Rico’s breath. "It's…fine. How's my car?"

Rose leaned back enough to tug on the back of my shirt for my attention, "Did you call Micah?"

"He's on his way." I swatted at Rico, who was leaning far too heavily on a stranger he didn't know or even like very much. "Rico, leave the man alone."

"'M being polite to your guest, Honey," he told me flippantly. I shook my head and gave Spencer an apologetic frown. "Your Jeep's got a lot of miles on it for the year. How long you been on the road, man?"

I spotted Lonnie smirking at me out of the corner of my eye, trying to catch my attention. I did my best to focus on the receipt for Rico’s frankly astonishing amount of drinks he'd had today.

"Two years. I've been just about everywhere," Spencer told him sheepishly, and he put a steadying hand on Rico’s chest to keep him from falling on him and out of my arms.

I signed the receipt and slid it back to Vera, but as I turned back to Rico and Spencer I felt an unfamiliar hand on my backside. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted Lonnie grinning at me with tobacco stained teeth.

"Back off, Lonnie," I snapped. When I pushed at his wrist, his grip only tightened. "Ow! Goddamnit, Lon-."

Rico twisted off my shoulder before I could stop him, ripping Lonnie's hand from my ass. Spencer got up sharply from his stool and stepped up next to him, his hand going for his belt.

Lonnie wasn't phased, and he ignored them completely. He loomed over me and cocked his head, his equally nasty brother standing behind him. "I hear Rico didn't knock you up. Lloyd and I are more than happy to step in, do what he can't."

"Back off, Lonnie," I urged, trying to keep Rico behind me. "Tonight's not the night."

"I think it's a perfect night," Lloyd sneered, grinning at me like the creep he was. "We'll show you a good time, Honey. Let you feel a real man for once."

"You boys better head home if you know what's good for you," Rose spoke up, and when I looked back he was up on his feet too.

“Mind your business, old man,” Lonnie snapped. I was closer to him than I ever wanted to be, stale beer and cigarettes washing over me as I struggled to keep Rico in place and standing. Lonnie knew that Rose and Rico had served, and both were certified badasses, but Lonnie and Lloyd both served too, and for some reason they thought that gave them the right to fuck around and not find out.

“I’m talkin’ to the lady here,” he continued, reaching a dirt stained hand out to push back my hair. I swatted him away but he wasn’t phased, nor by the sudden silence that overcame the bar. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and it was my least favorite feeling in the world.

“I don’t want to talk to you or your brother,” I told him in a low voice, hating to be the center of attention. “I’m taking Rico home. You two just enjoy your night.”

I pulled on Rico’s arm until he moved with me, staggering and glaring at the twins over his shoulder. We barely made it two steps before Lonnie called out again.

“Maybe I’ll find you one of those nights you’re walkin’ home alone, then, bitch!”

Fuck.

Rico turned on a dime, the droopy effect of alcohol reverting to fierce stupidity. I was caught between them, his chest against my back as he swung a heavy fist toward Lonnie. It connected with his cheek with a loud smack of Rico’s knuckles.

Everything seemed to explode in a millisecond.

Lonnie barely flinched through his own alcoholic haze, his fist barreling toward me before I could react. A blast of pain cracked across my vision, a bright haze of red and white bursting over my sight as my body twisted from the force, a sharp yelp bursting from my chest.

I hit the ground hard, my wrists and knees taking the impact. Yelling echoed in the back of my mind, the sounds of fists hitting flesh and broken glass. Hot blood dripped down my nose and chin as I struggled to blink back into focus. Somebody had their hands on my shoulders, which I feebly tried to push away.

The napkin Rico had drawn Ernie on lay on the floor beneath me, trickling droplets of iron red beading the surface before bleeding into the paper. Memories swirled in my mind as I gazed bleary eyed at a drawing of my dead husband. Blood and the whipping wind jerking my hair from my scalp… sharp lightning cracking and thunder booming around us… the sight of the love of my young life bleeding out in the ocean.

Then just as suddenly as it all began, it stopped.

I looked up cautiously to find Rico on his ass next to me, clutching his nose, but that wasn't what made my heart stop in my chest. It was Spencer.

Lloyd laid flat on his belly with Spencer's boot between his shoulder blades, struggling to get up. Lonnie's arm was twisted behind him and out, Spencer pinching between his thumb and his pointer finger with one hand, the other tangled into his hair.

"Get the fuck off me, man!" Lonnie snarled, but Spencer just twisted his arm further, earning a strangled yelp from the drunken asshole.

Mattie May and Rose both had their arms under my armpits, hoisting me to my feet. Hastily, I snatched the napkin from the floor and enclosed it in my fist. I could hear her speaking softly to me over the ringing in my ears, asking me if I'm alright. All I could focus on was him, and the shift in his body. It was like staring at a whole other person.

"Apologize," Spencer snapped, his dark eyes sharp and more focused than I'd ever seen. Even with a handful of drinks in him he was steady and strong, his grip unyielding. "Now."

“Fuck y- argggh!” Lonnie tried, but another sharp turn on his shoulder had him howling. “Okay, okay! I’m fuckin’ sorry, man!”

“Not to me, dumbass,” Spencer growled lowly. Keeping one foot on Lloyd’s back, he turned Lonnie to face me and my spurting nose and lip. “Apologize to her.”

“I’m… sorry,” Lonnie gritted out, but the burning hatred in his eyes told me he wasn’t, and that this wasn’t over.

“Alright!” Micah’s voice sounded out as he sauntered into the bar, and all turned to him. His weathered hands planted on his hips as he glowered down at the Evarts brothers. “That’s enough, boys. Head home.”

Rose pushed me gently behind him as Spencer released the twins. They both got to their feet rubbing their shoulders and scowling at me. Micah knew me well enough that I wasn’t going to press charges, so he waved them out of the bar and went for Rico.

“I’m guessing I have him to thank for this escalation?” Micah grunted as he bent down. He and Rose looped their arms under his and pulled him to his feet as he tried in vain to quell some of the blood flow.

“Yeah. I’ll help you get him to the car,” Rose replied gruffly. He kissed Mattie May on her cheek and I avoided the sight painfully as they drug Rico out of the bar.

“Honey, lemme look at ya,” Mattie May urged, tugging on my jaw. When I wouldn’t turn she instead twisted in front of me, slightly obscuring my view of Spencer.

I watched him and his reddened cheeks, the way his hands started to shake now that the fight was over. I watched him watching me back even as he snagged his bourbon off the bar and downed it in one go.

“I’m fine,” I muttered. She ignored me, as did Vera and Tooky, poking and prodding around. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t seem to look away from Spencer. He couldn’t look away either, it seemed, just gazed at me with a deep bone aching sadness and shame I’m sure reflected in my own eyes.

Another squeeze down my arm, a sharp rocketing pain that burst through my wrist. It was enough to drag me away from Spencer Reid, my angry gaze flicking to Mattie May, “Ow! Goddamnit!”

“Let’s get you some ice, Honey,” she replied quickly, her former nurses’ training kicking in. Before I knew it I was being dragged around the bar and into the kitchen, but when I looked over my shoulder Spencer hadn’t moved his gaze from me, but something had changed.

The sadness had switched to grief, and a little bit of fear.

The world spun as the girls pulled Honey into the kitchen. Spencer watched helplessly as the door swung shut, his body shaking and too stiff all at the same time.

Is this who I am now?

He could see her through the window, see that she was okay and talking. One of the women blotted her nose with a dish rag as Mattie May pulled out a first aid kit. Spencer leaned against the bar for support, but he was certain if he looked away from Honey he would crumple into a ball of tears.

Spencer was an idiot, reacting like that. The first sign of trouble and his training kicked in, that old familiar chivalry he’d thought he left behind on a cool DC morning as he skipped town like a ghost. He saw Lonnie and Lloyd, looking too much like the men he’d met in his work, and worst of all…

He saw Honey, frightened and too hard-headed for her own good to not back down from a fight she couldn’t win. You can’t win against men like that, people with their minds made up… and all he saw for a moment was Maeve with Lonnie’s fist heading right at her. His agent training burst out of him without permission, and the next thing he knew it was like after prison again, stopping some asshole from messing with Tara… when he was out of control and pissed off at the world.

Is this who I am now?

A heavy hand on his shoulder made him flinch and duck, turning sharply to find Rose looking at him with his dark eyes. Spencer’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, his breath struggling to return to normal. Rose motioned to the barstools in front of them, pretending as though he didn’t notice.

“Sit down, son.”

With a shaking hand, Spencer took a deep breath and pulled out a stool. He slid onto the cool leather and gripped the bar while Rose went around the other side. He pulled a bottle from the bar wall and poured him another drink, then pushed it toward him. Spencer snatched it like a man dying of thirst and poured it down his throat.

"It's a good thing you did, taking over like that."

Another deep breath, count to five, let it out.

"Bar fights are a dime a dozen. Don't worry too much about it. Lonnie and Lloyd aren't stupid enough to press charges."

The glass barely had the chance to hit the bar again before Rose poured him another. Spencer lifted it to his lips, just moments away from temporary salvation in the arms of liquor when he spoke again.

“Ex-con or cop?”

His only reprieve from the world hung mid air, just out of reach of his mouth as Spencer stared shell-shocked at him. “What?”

“Mattie May says you didn’t serve, but you don’t like fireworks.” A quirk of his heavy brow told Spencer he wasn’t getting out of this one. “Your hand went straight for your belt, like you were reaching for a gun. You got that haunted look in your eyes like a man who's seen some things. You didn’t serve so… ex-con or cop?”

Spencer swallowed thickly. The cool beads of condensation from his bourbon trickled down his hand and wrist. Rose sighed, “Nobody’s judging here, son. We welcome all kinds in this town, as you’ve surely noticed.”

Is this who I am now? What would ever be the right answer to that question? Both. Neither.

Spencer’s heart weighed a thousand pounds as he stared painfully back at Rose. Licking his lips to prepare himself, his jaw quivered. His voice shook as he admitted for the first time in years, “FBI. Almost twenty years.”

Rose didn’t say anything about that, but the slight twitch that etched across his weathered features told Spencer everything he needed to know about his thoughts. Really? You? How could someone like you be capable of such a thing?

“Thank you for your service,” he said instead.

“Don’t,” Spencer replied.

He downed his drink, pushed it forward for another. Rose obliged, tipping the spout over the rim. Spencer found himself looking once more to the kitchen window, his eyes sliding over without much thought. Honey seemed pissed off as ever, glaring at something in her hand as Mattie May wrapped her wrist with an Ace bandage. The distinct swell of a coming bruise tattooed across her cheek and lip, her nose red from cleaning blood away.

“She’s fine,” Rose’s voice came through, tearing his gaze away. “Honey’s taken harder hits than that.”

"Her husband?" Spencer asked, a bit unsure of such a bold question. "That why she wears that ring?"

Rose scratched his chin as he thought. His eyes wandered around the bar, seeing who was close. When he was satisfied nobody would hear, he leaned on his elbows on the bar. "You know, Honey don't look like it, but she grew up catching lobster on a boat off the East Coast."

"How'd she end up so far from home?"

"I don't know specifics," Rose muttered with a shrug. "Her daddy was a real religious type. Made it clear one day she could live there with his rules as gospel, or leave. She left, hitchhiked until she met Mattie May at a truck stop on her way home from visiting her sister."

A sweet genuine smile stretched across his cheeks, "She brought her to town. Honey met Ernesto. It was…instant. They just fell in love like that."

Sigue viviendo, Ernesto, Spencer remembered, thinking back to the mural outside Collie’s.

"Yeah, those two were something else. Before she came along, Rico, Holly Henson, and Ernie were just three boys who came back from Iraq with hell to raise. They were wild. Honey walked in one day and those boys all turned into men. She showed them they could be more than haunted."

Spencer couldn't help but squint at his words, glaring at Rose as he downed his fourth shot in as many minutes. Rose dutifully poured him another, continuing on, "They all loved the water, fishing. Honey trained in water rescue back in the day, and she still went out when they needed her. Ernie and Honey would go on these week long trips up and down the coast. Ernie used to wear his ring on a chain around his neck so it wouldn't get lost.

"One day they didn't come back on time," Rose said, and this time it was his eyes that became haunted. They traveled back to a time Spencer couldn't see, remembering something he didn't know.

"They got caught in a storm, a big one that came outta nowhere. They tried to get control of the boat, but a lightning bolt hit the deck, blew the damned thing into pieces."

The breath caught in his chest, Spencer's body subconsciously leaning forward as he found himself wrapped up in the story. He could hear Honey griping about being left alone, but it all seemed so far away.

Rose sighed, his dark heavy gaze landing on Spencer's once more. "Some tourists found her a few days later holding onto a piece of driftwood. She was holding his body to her by that chain with his wedding ring on it. Hers had slipped off in the waves."

Spencer looked over to the kitchen window once more. Sure enough that ring hung around her neck. She fiddled with it as she stared dead eyed at what looked like a napkin, rolling it between her fingers.

"She brought my Ernie home to me," Rose spoke quietly, earning Spencer's undivided attention once more.

"He was your son." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, he was a good egg." An unspoken declaration of devotion from a man going through unimaginable pain.

"Goddamnit, I'm fine!" Honey snarled, stomping her way out of the kitchen. It seemed to be her favorite word. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

The door swung behind her like a dog's wagging tail. She squinted at Spencer and Rose as she came out, but Rose reached out a hand for her bicep, pulling her back to him.

He tapped her chin, "That's a good shiner, kid."

Honey's scowl morphed into a slow chuckle. She shook her head and pulled away from him with a big grin, "You're a dick."

Mattie May made her way out of the kitchen next, inching her way back into the main room as if she was a bit fearful of Honey’s wrath. Her arms made their way around Rose's waist as she watched her flit back around the tables.

"Will you stay with her? Help her close up and drive her home?" Mattie May asked Rose softly. "I don't like the idea of her alone after what Lonnie said."

"Yeah, but you know Honey. She's gonna growl at me all night about it."

Spencer's mouth opened before he could think to stop it, "I could drive her home so Mattie May doesn't have to go by herself."

Both of them turned surprised to an equally surprised Spencer, but they were far more amused.

"Boy, I know you've had more drinks than the five I poured you," Rose told him sternly. "I wouldn't trust you to drive a stationary bike right now."

"Well, that is true," Spencer replied, realizing in embarrassment the slur of his voice. "She can drive me home. There's no way I'm finding my way back to the inn by myself anyway."

They looked at one another, seemingly having one of those silent conversations couples do when they've been together long enough. Not so funnily, he used to have similar ones with the BAU.

"Okay. You two be careful, though," Mattie May smiled. "Gets pretty dark around here at night on the beach. There ain't many streetlights."

"Will do," Spencer replied. He saluted her with his drink and polished it off, welcoming the amber gold and the edge it took off with it.

He vaguely registered Rose asking Honey to drive him home, focused on drowning his feelings in his bourbon. After a few more hours, the patrons shuffled out. The old woman behind the bar and the pretty blonde left before closing time, and eventually it was just him and Honey alone.

She ignored him mostly, avoiding his gaze as Spencer tried to avoid hers. She made her way behind the bar, pulling out trash bags and tying them off.

"You didn't have to do that, y’know," she muttered, and when he looked up she was watching him through her lashes. Her cheeks flushed a dark pink, only making her bruise look darker.

It was already blotching purple, and by the morning it would turn black and blue. Part of her lip had split, and god help him, it pissed Spencer off more than anything.

"I can take a punch, Mr. Dreary," she said when he didn't reply. She pointed at his glass. "You didn't need to do that. You obviously didn't want to."

"Oh, I wanted to."

Her hand reached out, fingers loosely grabbing the tumbler. She twisted it for a moment and bit her bottom lip as she thought. "He was trying to hit Rico and missed. He's a drunk asshole."

"No, he wasn't." Spencer told her. Honey's brows twitched, but she didn't say anything. "He may be a drunk asshole, but he aimed right for you in a place that would bleed the most and bruise the worst. I'm sure he's had plenty of practice accidentally punching women."

"And you know so much about that?" she challenged, stubborn as ever. "He's all bark and no bite."

"I know more about it than I'd like." Spencer's own hand found its way across the bar, clasping around her good wrist. "I've seen hundreds of Lonnie's. They seem all bark and no bite, but they're impulsive. Especially when they're angry. When he said he'd wait for you to walk home alone one night, he meant it. He'd have no problem finding you and raping you in the street before leaving you there."

Her jaw clenched tightly, but she nodded with tears in her eyes. Honey cleared her throat and held up one of the trash bags, "You might as well make yourself useful. Dumpster’s through the kitchen."

Spencer slid his hand from her and got to his feet. He rounded the bar and took it from her hands, his legs more than a bit unsteady.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, watching him nervously.

"I might be on my knees painting the inside of the toilet later," he told her with a watery lopsided grin, "but I'll be fine."

Her laugh was all he needed to walk away from her, smiling to himself. She chucked quietly behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. It was dark, illuminated only by the red light of the EXIT sign. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he passed through the hot room, still emanating heat from the hours of serving up burgers and fish fry to the patrons.

The night was only a few degrees cooler as Spencer pushed open the heavy back door and stepped into the alley. It reeked of stale beer, piss, and sand, making his nose curl up. He tossed the bag into the dumpster, the bottles inside hitting the inside with a loud clang.

He gripped the slatted wall for support as he turned inside. His legs didn’t want to cooperate along the shifting sands, his veins mostly alcohol by now. Tugging the door back open, he stepped back inside into the glowing red blanketing the kitchen.

"Get away from me!" Honey's voice came from the bar area.

Spencer's body kicked into gear, his hand going to his belt for a gun that wasn't there. His badge wasn't either, and he was drunk. Old familiar instincts blazed to life, his ears picking up on a shuffling to his right. Spencer turned just in time to see the business end of a baseball bat coming toward his face.

It connected with his nose, the fragile cartilage cracking under the force. Spencer was swept off his feet with the impact, landing hard on his ass on the concrete. The bat came down again as Honey screamed in the other room.

Blinking blearily through the pain, Spencer's foot shot out, his boot catching the side of his assailant's knee. The man screeched in pain and collapsed, clutching his kneecap and howling

"Oh fuck, Lonnie!" he cried out, and Spencer recognized him in the dark. It was Lloyd Evarts.

The swinging door flung open and in came the bastard Lonnie himself, dragging Honey in by her hair. Fresh blood dripped down her nose under the red lights, and he tossed her to the ground before swinging a heavy foot out. It caught Spencer in the ribs, his movements slow with the alcohol and stun of the hit to the face.

“Take that, you piece of shit!”

Lonnie kicked him again, and again. Spencer tried to swing out his fist, but caught nothing but air. Lloyd was on his feet in Spencer's drowsy haze, stomping down on his shoulder and side as he tried in vain to get up from the floor.

If he didn't get up, he'd probably die.

The unmistakable rack of a shotgun ran ice water through his veins. He couldn’t see Honey, couldn’t find a way to pick himself up to get her the hell out of here. What an embarrassing way to die for who he used to be… shot on a cold floor in a town he didn’t know or like, trying stupidly to protect a girl he didn’t want to be attracted to.

The gun blasted out with a loud boom! that rattled the kitchen. Spencer braced for the all-too familiar feel of bullets in his flesh, but they didn’t come. Instead a loud howling ripped through the room through the ringing in his ears.

Another pump of the gun, the clattering of a spent shell casing petering across the concrete. The gun went off again, followed by the screech of a wounded animal. The blows stopped battering his drunken body, shuffling feet and screams echoing around him.

“Let’s go! Go, go, go!” Lonnie’s voice cried out, followed by them scrambling out the door.

Spencer rolled onto his back, vaguely registering the gun hitting the ground. All the fight was gone, and he was just a pair of black eyes. The EXIT sign glowed ominously above him, the acrid smell and copper taste of blood in his mouth. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, sure that it must be broken.

“Spencer,” a soft voice came, full of tears and worry.

A shadow moved in front of the sign, dark and surrounded by the red light. Soft dark hair glimmered even in the darkness, and Spencer reached a bruised hand up to run his fingers through it. He palmed her cheek, his breath catching in his chest as his brain struggled to remember where he was.

“Spencer, stay awake,” the voice said again. “I’m going to get some help.”

It was so quiet, shrouded in darkness and mystery. Familiar, but where was he again? He didn’t know. He didn’t really care, either. His thumb ran across her cheekbone, a slight hiss of pain escaping lips he couldn’t see. Her skin was warm, the fresh scent of saltwater and sweat washing over him. All he wanted was a hug, someone to hold him until he felt better.

“Spencer, can you hear me?”

“Maeve?”

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: PLEASE tell me what you think... Also, what do you think is going to happen next?

CM Forever Tag:

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore

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stardew-obsessed-ora · 1 year ago

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hi do you have any headcanons involving morris and the junimos (or maybe just magic in general) ?

Hiiii anon! Thank you so much for the ask! This was actually quite the interesting topic to think about, so thank you for that! I apologize for how long this took to pump out. I was so busy with college math that I wasn't really able to focus on writing. Regardless, I'm excited to finally be able to sit down and answer this!

(Some of this is going to be based on the before the farmer comic)

Word count: 1,621

tiny bit of angst but it gets better! ∼ ~~◡◡◡◡ ~~ ⥽ Ⅰ ⥼ ~~◡◡◡◡~~ ∽

For starters, the Junimos have made themselves somewhat known to Morris for quite some time. Not in a positive way, of course. They were there when Joja was first making its presence known within the valley. Maybe they were trying to ward the company off with what little mischief they could pull? Or maybe they just wanted to use what little remaining power they had to screw with the man before shriveling up due to the continued environmental damage from the corporation.

From the first day he started working as a district manager onward, they would appear out of the corner of his eye. He thought it might’ve been flickers of light, or maybe he was just up too early? That was probably it. This went on for weeks, months even. It was maddening. It was hard enough setting up a new store in town, but with the added paranormal activity? That wasn’t what he signed up for.

He would clock in at 5am sharp each day, do a routine check of everything and make a mental note of what needed to be done, the usual. And then- something would fall. Morris, being rather jumpy, would flinch every single time without fail. Whenever he checked the room where the source of the sound was, however, there was nothing on the ground. There wasn’t a single trace of what could’ve made the noise. Of course, there were boxes being perpetually scattered from their uniform positions, but they couldn’t have made such loud noises.

There were numerous meetings with his employees regarding the incidents. If it wasn’t just him, it had to be some elaborate prank, right? These meetings would go from casual reminders of company policy regarding messing around on company time, threats that whoever was to be found wasting so much time on an elaborate scheme as opposed to getting the upper-hand working would be fired, to subtle pleas for whoever it was to turn themselves in and that their punishment wouldn’t actually be that bad.

“What if it’s like- raccoons? Those little guys can go crazy all on their lonesome. I remember one time mom had accidentally messed up a recipe, so she threw the most burnt pieces out, and a few hours later we found like- all kinds of trash on our lawn!”

“Respectfully, I think I’d know if they were raccoons, Sam. I’d have come across the mess already. And- I’d probably have come across one of the raccoons on my daily searches. I’m very methodical with my process.”

“Also… sorry to butt in- I’d probably hear them coming in. I’m always here early.” And then Claire yawns. “I hear a bit of rustling, but it’s not really… that obstructive.”

“Seriously? So you’re inattentive. There’s no way you’re not hearing- well- what I’m referring to.”

“They say regions like this tend to be a bit haunted.” “Haunted? Seriously?!” “Yeah, next thing we know Morris’ll start seeing the lights flicker when nobody else does. Then, he’ll see his reflection laugh at him. And then-”

“Shane, enough. Seriously. Spirits aren’t real. They’re mere fairy-tales at best.” “Fine, alright. If it’s such an issue, why don’t you install cameras?”

“For your information, we actually do have- wait.” And then he checked the cameras. It became somewhat routine for him to skim through the footage daily in an attempt to find anything incriminating. Maybe he’d catch the person putting him through this annoying, relentless hell if he remained vigilant?

As much as he wanted to act like he wasn’t unnerved by the thought of the Jojamart being haunted or something, he was. Horror terrified him, he was the kid who dove behind the couch whenever something even slightly unnerving came on the television. He didn’t want to be living through a real life horror movie! Maybe he should’ve just accepted the raccoon suggestion… Thumbing through the camera footage, he became distraught. He, in fact, did not catch anything. The most paranormal thing he did catch, in his mind, were both Shane and Sam doing their jobs exactly as he had asked. Great, so that was a fruitless- wait. Checking the camera in the storage room, he saw something. He saw several of the boxes rustling, moving on their own then stopping. If all of his employees were at their stations, then what was..?

He decided to investigate himself.

“Hey, Mors. Don’t die back there, kay? It’s always the people going on investigations themselves that get caught in horror movies!”

“Shane, I’ll dock your pay if you don’t get back to your station.”

“Goooot it.”

The first time he stepped into the storage room and heard squeaking he assumed it was rats. Great, they had an infestation on their hands. Another lengthy email to corporate. And then- he saw a flicker of green, a dash of blue, and- an apple stem? There they were. The Junimos. It was ridiculous, but he wanted to run away. Even if they looked cutesy, they were spirits- ghosts- supernatural beings, for crying out loud! In his moment of panic he stood, pale and wide eyed as he observed the creatures.

And then his panic quickly subsided, replaced with soft laughter.

“Is this a prank? Some kind of toy? Seriously…” When he tried to pick the creature up, it quickly hopped away, then reappeared behind him. Of course, Morris, being stubborn, doubled down on his internal viewpoint that they were toys. The squeaking didn’t help. Neither did their bouncy movements or overly cartoonish faces. He thought they were toys for the remainder of his encounters with them.

Regardless of how much they tried to keep him on his toes, annoy him, make him resign and bring peace back to the valley. They couldn’t get under his skin as they had his first few months of working.

I like imagining the Junimo are very determined little creatures, however. They both don’t understand human emotion very well, and also don’t understand the concept of knowing when to quit. They continued to make messes, hit against things to make unruly sounds, appear out of the corner of his eye, but it only made him crack down further on policies regarding workplace ethics and appropriate behavior.

Of course, this wasn’t to say Morris didn’t humor the “toy” he had found. At times he’d act scared, or frantically pick the mess it had made up, or try again to pick it up, somewhat impressed at the fact it had such sharp reflexes. If only the person controlling it put those skills to something productive.

When he’d spot one of a color other than green he wondered if the person who owned the toy had invested in multiple just to freak him out.

He found them kind of cute, and almost endearing. A part of him thought about pitching an idea to corporate regarding Joja potentially making their own line of the little things.

Before he knew it, however, the ruckus stopped.

The little creatures stopped squeaking, they stopped rummaging through the back room of the store, they stopped appearing out of the corners of his eye. The Junimos were losing their magic within the valley, and the spread of Joja was at fault. They couldn’t even ward off one store chain from the valley with the best of their abilities.

When he finds the last Junimo he almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of it. Anything unexpected caused him to jump, let alone one of the very things that had tried to annoy him for months on end. But now, there it was, its little leaf hung low and its eyes half shut in defeat.

Of course he was confused. A toy shouldn’t have been that expressive. Maybe it was another one? Maybe it-

And then, it disappeared. Right in front of his eyes, to his own dismay. Its little leaf had withered away, followed by the rest of it.

Panic, worry, and a strange sense of guilt filled his chest as he would bolt from the storage room. The realization they weren’t toys and that he had spent months pinning their appearances on employees embarrassed him, yet also, terrified him. Up until that moment he had assumed fairy tales, magic, and things of the like were fake.

Afterwards, he spent months making sure the Jojamart wasn’t haunted or anything like that. It was ridiculous, but nobody bothered stopping him. It took time he spent chewing them out for meticulous things away, and kept him preoccupied.

For a while, he tried asking other townsfolk about what he saw, being met only with confused glances and a few remarks here and there regarding him possibly losing it.

It made him feel crazy.

When the farmer actually reaffirmed the existence of the little fellas he had seen, it lifted a weight off of his shoulders. He didn’t have to feel even remotely worried that his unhealthy work hours were actually taking a toll on him. Nope!

And yet, it still made him feel bad.

Bad, as in wondering if something had happened to them that might’ve been caused by him. Or- by the collective efforts of the corporation he had been working so tirelessly for, anyways. It ultimately helped feed into his doubt regarding whether or not what he was doing was truly right.

It wasn’t until after the community center had been rebuilt that he saw the little fellas again. He was tending to his garden when he spotted something from the corner of his eye. He thought it was an animal, or perhaps just something blowing in the wind.

That's when he saw it, a Jumino making its way onto his property with a flower in tow. A white tulip.

It takes the Junimos a while to grasp the concept, but they realize Morris wasn't intentionally trying to fuck up the valley. He was just a victim of circumstance. So, after coming to this profound realization, I like imagining they occasionally drop off little flowers of varying positive meanings at his door to both reassure him that he didn't help permanently ward them off and to show that there's no hard feelings.

(also this takes away from the more serious nature of these hcs but if he could grab one of the little guys i do think he'd squish it in his hand. he finds them really cute outside of the initial five nights at junimos encounter he had)

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msallurea · 1 year ago

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Pt. 2 My Little Space Routine 🧸🎀🧁

Ok so after making my first post on me and my little space I definitely feel more comfortable to make more, part of the reason I started this was because I was slipping back in it a few hours ago and couldn't come out of it which led me to panic. But anyway this is my routine down below

🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁

🎀Morning Routine🎀

🎀 Normally I'm super cranky in the morning because I'm not exactly a morning person plus I wake up in a loud, yelling household so ofc, instantly I'm waken up in little space. Luckily, mornings are top tier meant for relaxation sessions when over stimulated:

🧸 I first wake up and try stretching a little just to shake off the grouchiness because my mind instantly enters a 7 year old

🧸 After a little mini stretch I'm ready to start baby talking and my speaking isn't as clear (my family isn't aware I have this so I always have to hide it every chance I get)so I walk a little fast to the bathroom on my tippy toes just to feel a little better

🧸 After using the bathroom, because I have siblings and my parents go to work in the mornings I always have to hurry with my self care, brushing my teeth while dancing in the mirror and taking a nice warm bath always cheers me up in little space and just in general (so relaxing truly 😍)

🧸 When I have it, I try to wear dresses mostly if I find any to wear around the house or some of my most softest clothes, I'm not exactly a sock person with my attire but if I can find my fuzzy/fluffy soft socks then I will wear them (i have these white ones and they are so soft and comfy on my feet)

🧸 Normally in the morning I'm cleaning up and I find myself spacing out often so I always make sure to daydream about happy things (💥my mind can go negative pretty quickly so I always make sure when in little I make sure to think as happy as possible💥)

🧸 After that the rest of the morning towards the afternoon I'm either laying down hand scrolling through my phone because I'm out of little space or if im not or feel scared that I'll go back then I always hug my pillow like you would a teddy bear to keep me calm (I feel this is a little more enjoyable for me then when i am fidgeting with my fingers it's like stimming for me)

🎀Night Routine🎀

🎀 Nighttime I tend to be most awake and not that much in little space anymore. But it's also the most time I spend looking at pretty photos and talking to my friends which will put me in little space so normally what I do is:

�� At night I'm the one who has to cook unless my mom is doing something so it's always fun for me (if I'm not interrupted ofc)

(BONUS:to make cooking more fun imagine your on a cooking/baking cartoon its so nice and calming)

🧸 I make sure to take a warm bath because during the afternoon I'm normally drained from all the energy I've been around and it can make me both sleepy and irritated especially if if one of those days where I really went little but I couldn't show it due to the environment

🧸 For bedtime, I try getting as comfy as possible and snuggle in my blanket while watching movies on my TV or phone

🧸 Because I stay up longer at night listening to music is super helpful for me or I'd talk myself to sleep when needed

🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸

When I'm little I definitely try to make it as non noticeable as possible because I don't want people to notice it and start asking questions that trigger it more so sometimes my routine may change, not having a caregiver doesn't make it any easier either since I find myself most vulnerable in my little state which scares me because I know anything can hurt me deeply when like this, but with practice and soothing techniques I'm always able to keep my cool when needed but I just want you guys to know; it's totally OK if sometimes being little makes you feel stuff 1000 times harder or your having a hard time with the world don't let anyone make you feel like your feelings are bad or overdramatic not everyone is perfect and everyone has been a little dramatic at least once so don't feel terrible about that at all, everyone process and let's out there emotions different so never feel ashamed for how you release them (ofc unless it is really bad such as self harm or self harming thoughts I definitely advice and advocate for you to talk to someone you trust if you do get to that point and/or seek professional help immediately if you ever get to that point, everyone deserves to live life to the fullest and be happy and so do you!

🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁🧸🧁

🎀Affirmations For Littles🎀

🧸 I am relaxed

🧸 I am safe

🧸 I am enough

🧸 I am protected

🧸 It is OK for me to be happy

🧸 My mind is always filled with happy positive thoughts

Anyways that's all, tell me what you guys think until next time I will see you butterflies soon I luv youuuu🧸🧁🎀🌸

#agere community #sfw agere #age regression #little space #sfw caregiver #age regressor

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dredshirtroberts · 1 year ago

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as tends to be the Pattern, i'm Frustrated and Angry with my family a little extra so of course this is when they've decided to try and attempt contact.

against possibly better judgement i did respond to mom after her second text (she's bored or she probably wouldn't have bothered) because i did kind of feel like it was worth attempting to reward her actually asking about what adventures i've been on/wanted to go on and whether or not its happened yet.

I kept it fairly neutral - after all the weather's yo-yo'ed like hell up here, and that makes casual walks a little difficult for me to go on. Plus 2/3s the house was sick last week - two weeks ago? what is time anyway - so no Recent Adventures were had outside of commutes and grocery runs on my part.

i just...i don't care what they're doing or why or what's going on in their lives - i know it's probably got a lot of excitement due to my sister's wedding coming up, plus their return from their recent vacation a couple weeks ago, and their lives tend to be pretty routine and they don't exactly get up to a whole lot that i get told about.

(there were multiple instances of them coming to the city i lived in when i lived close by and them just not saying anything or even like mentioning it to me in passing and i would find out via their facebook check-ins to various locations. And I rarely knew when they were out of town until after they'd already come back into the area. There was a real concern when I was leaving my ex that they just wouldn't be there in order for me to ask for help and i wouldn't have known until i tried to reach out. Thankfully they managed to be in town that weekend but like. i just wouldn't have known)

but like...they didn't feel it relevant to tell me when i was 20 miles away, why would i care now when i live 700 miles away? after years and years of them just not talking to me ever except when they needed me to attend a family event so their own egos could be stroked (either by affirming that they still had the love and loyalty of their child on their own, or to show me off to others - this last part tapered down significantly when i stopped being exceptional). They did not care what I got up to when I lived down there. Why would they care now that I live so far away? It's not like they can join me, or that they would have any interest in doing so.

i just like. i don't care. i don't want to know because they had YEARS to connect with me and create a pattern of communication but they didn't want that when i was accessible. do you know how many months i went where the most intimate contact i had with anyone was knocking shoulders with my coworkers on accident? or worse, nothing? because my parents decided they didn't care to actually like...come see me?

a lot of my inability to keep in contact with people does stem from my parents not teaching me how to do that, and from no one trying to contact me because well they could always go through my mom and learn everything they needed. I could in fact tell when people had asked about me and my parents didn't know what to say because that's when they'd text and ask how i was doing. So they could have updated information the next time.

that said if you've ever attempted to keep in contact with me and i just didn't do the work i'm very sorry. I'm trying my best in these warmer months to do the work i need to in order to keep up with friends and such and it's going to get easier with practice but i'm 31 years old and just now trying to figure out how to do this. I apologize for further slips while i work on this area of lacking.

but like. they had zero interest in me or anything i did that didn't elevate their status in the eyes of their peers and superiors. I was exceptional because i could hide myself away in my room and get all my school work and learning done all by myself - until it turned out i wasn't actually doing the school work and i'd get in trouble for slacking. But nothing was done to teach me how to do it better. I was moving up in the world, my parents were proud of me because i worked for my dad! except i only got berated about the work i was doing because i wasn't doing enough of it all of the time and was only appreciated for the work i did when i was like "alright fine, i'm leaving the company" and they realized they'd have to bring someone in to do all of the jobs i'd been doing for $10 an hour/20k a year.

and that was a desk job.

i made more at fucking Chipotle than i did working for my dad.

for seven years.

i'm so mad. i'm mad for Different reasons than i was when i started this but i'm anticipating my mother's surprised pikachu reaction to finding out every joint i have dislocates semi-frequently and that likely what most of my injuries were from in sports were dislocations i was pushing through. and she just responded so i'm going to deal with that and just...i'm angry. i'm angry.

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dinofallsagain · 1 day ago

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Waste

(TW: SH implied)

Another day has passed, another day wasted.

A call came on my phone,it was from my mom. "How was class today?" she asked, and I felt my heart clench at the fact that I hadn’t gone to school. I had wasted the night before arguing with myself, debating things like whether it’s better to live or to die. Why would living matter if the soul inside is decayed and lifeless?

I'm kept alive by the little routines I have, though I tend to mess them up. I told myself I should study, and I went to class, but by the time I remembered why I was there, the bell had rung and students were already packing up. I went home with a friend I made there, making conversation and smiling on the way back. But when I reached my room, I realized I couldn’t remember a single thing we had talked about.

Sometimes it feels like the cold blade of a knife would feel warmer on my arm than the plushie I won at the claw machine with my friends. Somehow, I’m kept alive because I’d hate to end up in hell, or sometimes by the smiles of my parents, whom I deeply adore. But sometimes, that same warmth drives me away—the past feels like a haze, and the present like stepping through a thick cloud of smoke.

It’s a battle between me and my ego, a battle between wanting to give up and the fear of being a failure. My ego tells me, "Stop being so weak-minded," and I argue, "I can only go through so much at once." I feel useless. There’s so much I want to say, but I know no one would be willing to listen. Even I don’t want to listen to it. The more I talk about the things that hurt me, the more I feel selfish and ungrateful. My explanation would end up a mess, as it always does when that realization dawns on me. If I can’t let out my feelings through words and actions, it feels like my blood rushing out of my veins would be a better alternative to release my feelings without feeling selfish or worthless.

Dino

23/10/24

I looked into my notes and found this.. It's such a weird feeling tbh

#rants #thoughts #i dont even know #dinofalls #spilled thoughts #emotional struggles #tw sh implied

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unhingedwomandiaries · 2 months ago

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There's this hilarious thing people say in the U.K. about "starter homes." The implication is that the first house you buy is just the pregame for some future dream home that's slightly larger and more ideally situated. But that idea is totally weird to me. I'm from America and we don't really have that over here. For huge swaths of the population, the "starter home" is just "the home." That's it. That's the destination.

My parents bought a house when they got married and they stayed there for the remaining years of their lives. They didn't even entertain the possibility of moving. Their existence revolved entirely around making the mortgage on that three-bedroom rancher. My mom grew up with seven siblings crammed into a one-bedroom apartment in another state, so owning any kind of detached property felt like Shangri-La. Dreaming about a different house seemed almost offensive.

And that dynamic played out all around the neighborhood I grew up in. The neighbors who lived two doors down when I was born were still the same neighbors who lived there when I finally moved out. X from across the street had been there since the Regan administration. Nobody left, because nobody had anywhere to be.

My British husband doesn't get it, though. Back in his quaint little village, residents came and went like tourists at Disneyland. New neighbors were cycling through those cottages, preventing any real community saturation sometimes. It was all impossibly temporary in a way that seems to fundamentally confuse the American ethos of Unwavering Stubborn Commitment to Wherever You Currently Are. That's not how it works where I'm from.

So when I heard x finally kicked it a few weeks back, it actually meant something. She was one of the old constants like a peripatetic fixture who had been around for longer than my self-awareness. Her death signified the loss of another link to my childhood home, which is now somehow thousands of miles away across an ocean despite the fact that nothing over there ever seems to change or move an inch. I'll never go back for her funeral, because I live in a different world now. But I'll miss knowing she was there. That house simply won't be the same.

X lived an extraordinarily ordinary American life. Born to devoutly religious parents in a quaint New England town, x was the second born of ten children raised in the kind of raucous, overcrowded environment that feels illicit by today's standards. As a young adult, she spent time studying abroad, where she fell in love with both a man and a culture that would remain part of her identity forever after.

Upon returning to the States, x married her college sweetheart, x, with whom she spent the next 52 years building a life in my small hometown. Over that half-century, she gave birth to eleven children of her own and became a celebrant of routine or rather someone who found magic and meaning in the ritualistic duties of motherhood, community, and faith.

To the casual observer, her life achievements were utterly pedestrian: raising a family, keeping a tidy home, actively participating in her local church. But to those who knew her well, it was profound dedication to these supposedly unimportant particulars that made her life extraordinary. Whether tending to her garden, playing Mozart etudes on the piano, or bestowing handwritten notes of wisdom and affection, she imbued every simple act with a sort of ceremonious care that elevated it to something approaching an art form.

For her children and many grandchildren, she served as a living, breathing reminder that the most transcendent truths are often expressed through the most unassuming contexts. To lose her is to lose a connection to that radical acceptance of the ordinary as something inherently and infinitely valuable. The home across the street will feel permanently incomplete in her absence.

Yet the spirit of her life remains alive in those she loved most. It carries on through the seemingly mundane family gatherings hosted by her children, where the sacred and profane intermingle under the same roof. And most importantly, it flows through the memories of her grandchildren, for whom the mere acts of eating breakfast or pulling weeds will forever be infused with the quiet power of their madre's simple, honest example.

So while x has departed this world, her resolute insistence on finding profundity in humility ensures her legacy will never abandon the persons and places she made lastingly important through sheer devotion. In death as in life, the impacts of her eternal ordinariness will reverberate through all who bear witness. Simple by circumstance, maybe. But truly, essentially, extraordinary.

#diary #death

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castlebyersafterdark · 6 months ago

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i'm only halfway through your fic but already i'm soooo appreciative of details you've paid to things like who manscapes? that's something you just don't get from many writers (dare i say perhaps because most are female?) and i LOVE that mike wouldnt have even given it much thought, this is immediately canon to meeeee. whereas will, groomed boi that turned up like THAT at the airport? oh yes sir he buys specially dedicated scissors/clippers at the very LEAST. (side note - i reallllllly hope a scene of jon teaching will how to shave his newly-appearing facial hair features in s5 pleassssseeee such good exposition for 'theyre growing up' !)

and i love the way you write about them playing with the underwear fabric - something i find missing from fic in general too, which is odd cos all genders can and do wear underwear, and its kind of hot to play with for any gender? i dont mean lingerie or sexy lace either - just your average underwear is such a nice way to tease.

what do you think of the underwear they've chosen for the show? we saw mike in his white briefs and vest, and i imagine will to have underwear that's more reflective of his family's money (even though they seemingly had more in s4), whereas mike's looked like his mom still bought his and they were standard. (a great detail considering that eddie teased him about his mom buying his clothes - it seems that beneath the hellfire shirt, he is still his true self, wearing those mom-bought undies). i think even though will's underwear will probs be a bit less expensive, it'll also be nicer and cooler in a way? whereas briefs are very...80s? idk. just not flattering lol. but i also can't see will in checkered boxers like jon wears cos his pants are way too tight. what do you think?

Oh, this is so sweet, thank you 🥲 I am such a slut for hyper specific details. I tend to overthink everything and hyper-visualize but I think that's the fun part. I love reading so many different writing styles but I tend to go for super realistic myself? I'm glad my body hair hcs were appreciated haha. Sometimes I pause and think - is this too weird? But no, it's interesting. And hot. And in character. Yes. Let's go.

And oooooh I must say, I am still in disbelief they went with that opening scene for mike? in the tighty whiteys?!? Good for them, we thank you for your film-making decisions. I kind of love that he's soooo basic. Mommy probably bought them (ew that sounded so weird but I am not backspacing HAHA). But it's an interesting character detail! Would he eventually put thought into wearing something nicer once he's dating Will, a boy who he hopes will routinely see him undressed? Or is he so unphased by that sort of thing? I honestly don't think Mike will put too much thought into it. They work. And Will kinda likes it. It's classic. I'm sure Will grew up on sneaking away with the Sears catalog to look at the men's sections. Classic basics might be a formative awakening for him as sexually confused young man (as is tradition for many.....)

As for Will, I'm sure when he gets the chance, he gets nicer stuff. He likes looking good, feeling good. Patterns, different cuts depending on his choice of pants. Especially with those skin tight light wash denims he favors! He is so not a 5 pack kmart boxers kinda guy if he had the option, ya know??? Absolutely not. If he's matching his little belts to his fits, he's picky about what goes underneath.

#🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲#😜#scroll to the high 600s in the link. and this random catalog I found is honestly pretty tame compared to some uhhh memorable ones. heehee

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whoneedslovewhenyouhaveknives · 11 months ago

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Honestly, the thing that really gets me some of these days is that… we’ve just got a routine now. We’ve got cots in the back, so one of us can pass out while the other two work the counter. Lyell grabbed a couple of those water purifier thingies before everything went nuts, so we can trade clean water for the ingredients we need. And well… no one ever said me and June weren’t some of the twitchiest and paranoid people working here. Give us a couple’a knives, a shotgun and some shells, and we’ll sort out any safety issues.

We’ve still got regulars comin’ ‘round, for Christ’s sake. Albeit, they come ‘round mainly ‘cause we don’t let any infected through the doors.

Infecteds tend to stay away after the sixth or seventh time they get their heads turned to red mist, courtesy of a well-placed shotgun blast.

Fathers Peter and Taylor hold services in our place, each Sunday. I was never really into religion myself, but watching them over the counter, teaching Bible stories to all the little kids who had clambered into the same booth, I can’t help but smile a lil’.

Dr. Martins wanders in sometimes too, when she can afford a day or two away from her bunker full of patients. She’s real nice, all blue-ish hair and smile lines, even if she insists on calling all of us “kids”. She even brings ‘round refills for our first-aid kit; bandages, painkillers, stuff like that.

I’ll be honest, we weren’t real close before all this started. June, Lyell and me were just co-workers stuck on the dead shift together. I hadn’t seen Dr. Martins since I left my moms’ place, and I hadn’t gone to church in even longer.

But the infection came along, and everyone who could left town.

But the Fathers didn’t leave town, not with a whole Sunday school sleepover to look after and protect.

But Dr. Martins didn’t leave town, not with patients to monitor and an immunocompromised grandson recovering in his bed.

But me and my co-workers- my friends- didn’t leave town. We didn’t have anywhere to go.

And so, we stayed.

So, if you ever wander through a small, abandoned town down South, and you happen to see a Waffle House near the edge of it, all lit up with out-of-season Christmas lights and a couple’a old menorahs, stop on by.

We’ve got weapons, we’ve got water, we’ve got a place to sleep.

We’ve also got a place to confess, we’ve got some tired laughs, we’ve got a shoulder to cry on.

And most of all, we’ve got good food, fast.

~~~

Thanks for reading! If you liked this story, or if you just wanna support me, consider tossing me a Ko-fi! (Link is in my bio!)

#short story #waffle house #zombie apocalypse #sometimes community is found in hardship #but it tastes sweet all the same #mentions of gore

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ocean-anchored · 2 years ago

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Dear future self… February 6, 2023

Things I’m thankful for this past week - rest and my family.

Spent some quality time with meliss on Wednesday going for wings and shopping which was nice. I feel like we haven’t had one on one time in a little while so it was needed. Gamed with Steven Friday night which was fun. Went snowshoeing for the first time with Amber, we did Sawmill loop in kananaskis and it was such a perfect day. It was beautiful, a great trail, warm & nova was amazing. I seriously love this girl Amber, she’s like a long lost sister. We just talk for hours and hours about everything. We talked about how some people just drain your energy & when you leave from hanging out, you’re tired & empty. I don’t ever feel that with her. She’s always so bright & happy, she’s so funny but we can have serious, deep conversations too & we always seem to be on the same page or so similar in things. I really feel like she’s going to be a lifer and I hope she is.

Sunday was good, finished the essentials group. Sometimes I feel pressured at this church because they emphasize on growing & outreach in the community etc. the essentials group was really good and amazing at explaining things, explaining how important church is and that when you’re Christian, everyone’s a disciple. I feel very overwhelmed by it though, maybe because I always see it in a bible thumping way, or people who shove religion down people’s throats but God knows I’m not like that, I know he can change me but I don’t feel called to go around telling people they’re going to hell if they don’t accept Jesus & believe He died for their sins. I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. It’s really sad & I really can never comprehend what life is after death, being in the kingdom of God. What does it look like to live forever in spirit? To be in the heavens? There’s no sorrow, no shame, no sadness, no anger, no resentment, no self pity, no worthlessness. I can’t even imagine it and then imagining that some people in my life and so much of this world isn’t going to experience that because they’re not saved, idk that’s such a big task. Such a big burden almost. It’s hard to comprehend. Church is really good & every teaching has explained so much to me. We’re going through the book of Genesis & I’ve never truly understood it like I have been now. I’m always so challenged & the pastor always unlocks so much more in a few verses that I never understood before. It’s crazy but amazing. It’s nice to be meeting more people and seeing some of the same faces. Putting myself out there and going to more groups to meet people.

I really do feel like this year there’s a shift. That I feel like I’m finally focused on the important things in life & God is showing up. In so many places. Like God has literally done so much, opened so many doors, closed so many doors and has brought so many opportunities already this year that it makes me so excited. I’m happy. Like yah I have some moments where I’m sad I’m not in a certain place, or doing something else, or have found a partner, but I’m actually happy. So much good has come in the last couple months.

I’m really excited for this girls trip. I’ve never had a girls trip before and to think that I’ve been dying to have girl friends for literal years. Like how many times have I written, have I prayed, have I told my mom that I so crave some good girl connections. It’s been years. & now to be planning a tropical trip in April, I’m so excited.

I always tend to start writing right before bed, so I always feel like I’m trying to hurry up and type whatever overview I can so I can go to bed. I need to get better at sitting down at my computer and writing things out and getting out more details and feelings. I really want to get back into the shadow work & questions again. I really need to prioritize my routine. Get back into exercising and working out in the evening. Get back into reading before bed. Get back into drawing. Baking even. I’ve done a bit of baking but not a lot. Amanda got me into puzzles so now I want to get one to work on while I watch a show. I always feel like I have so many things I want to do in a day and I get overwhelmed and I can’t do them all and then a bunch of days pass and I feel like shit because I end up not doing any. It’s almost like I need to write a weekly schedule and carve out time for specific things on specific nights but I don’t want to be strict with my entire night planned out but then again I feel like I need some sort of structure that I know I can adjust accordingly. Maybe I’ll look at that this week.

#personal #dear future self #weekly update #journalling #weekly journal

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ajaxsprettyboy · 2 years ago

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Anniversary

Xiao x reader - fluff + smut

Waking up that day was a struggle, I smelled the coffee my mom had brewed for herself and immediately became overcome with a horrendous headache. It took sheer unadulterated willpower to not throw up dinner because of how pungent the smell was.

After nearly throwing my guts up through my esophagus, I walked downstairs and greeted my mother. She said something about what she was doing that day and honestly I wasn’t paying attention, it had nothing to do with me so I had no real reason to care.

She drove me to school and we said our goodbyes, the first day of the second semester of senior year, what a mouthful. I put on my best I’m-totally-not-falling-asleep face and walked up to Childe and Aether, Lumine was off talking to someone I wasn’t sure I knew, they had pretty brown hair though.

We walked into the school and sat in the cafeteria until the bell rang, then we could go to our lockers and first period. I had a tech class, in the nicest way possible, the absolute worst group to be with at 7 in the morning. I mean come on, Itto, please. Nobody wants to hear you screaming about your bug collection to the girl that oh so obviously has a crush on you.

But alas, what is there to do but stick with Childe. He was a popular guy, active in most sports, does lots of things around school, overall a nice guy. He’s got money though, so that’s probably why he became so popular in the first place. We’ve been friends for years though-I mean, I know his daily routine by heart.

Regardless, he’s definitely got other friends he talks to more often, but I still hold the title of ‘Best Friend’. It’s not all bad though, people tend to care about you more when you’re a popular boy’s friend. That’s cool I guess.

Anyway, we sat talking till the bell rang then off to second period, which was math, calculus to be exact. Mr. V. is a bitch so people ignore his bullshit rants and do the homework in class. Ganyu sits with me though so it’s not terrible.

Once we get to 3rd period I knew it’s time to start paying attention, more awake and aware. For…health. I already knew all the content for this class so I just doodle the class period away, soon enough it’s time for lunch.

I sit with Ayato, Ayaka, Aether, Lumine, Ningguang, and Beidou typically, but today I decided to sit with Ganyu and Keqing. Well, Ganyu, Keqing, and someone I’d never seen before, I think she said her name was Lisa. She was the girl Lumine was talking to earlier, I don’t know how she didn’t get dress coded with that top but I let it go considering it’s her first day.

The rest of the day draged on, khaenri'ahn, English, science, and so on. My mom expected me to walk home today so I was going off to a local coffee shop to study, and it started raining. Luckily, Childe was kind enough to drive me home rather than the coffee shop and stayed with me for a while. After an hour he began to leave, not without cleaning the living room before he left.

Nothing crazy happened during that hour, that was really two including the cleaning time, besides a sentence that kept crawling back in my head. “Ya’ know, my friend really likes you, he’s just to pussy to say something.” I mean there are guys who like me but one told them that I wasn’t too Interested in having a relationship at the time.

Maybe mystery man is one of them but I don’t think any of them are really close with Childe so what does he mean? Is he one of our under-classmen? That’s a possibility but I don’t understand why one of them would like me, unless it’s a hallway crush thing…

Days went by and I began getting small gifts left at my seat, or letters left in my locker. “This is so cliché I feel like I’m in a bad Hallmark movie!” I said to Lumine, knowing she’s been in stranger situations. “I don’t know there’s been worse, I mean look at Itto and his little friend.” She laughed, I won’t lie I giggled too. But honestly, this was getting weird.

He must’ve heard me speaking to her because the next lot of notes and letters were signed “X” in fancy penmanship. I know of only four people with ‘X’ names, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xiangling, and, Xinyan. Xiangling and Xinyan are both girls so that leaves Xingqiu and Xiao.

Xingqiu is years younger than us, so it must be Xiao right? I talk it over with Ganyu and Childe, who confirmed it was him, to make sure I wasn��t crazy. So maybe I had a crush on Xiao for a while and maybe he might like me back, no biggie, right?

“So how do I confront him? I’ll just ask him out! No that’s stupid…” my voice trailed off as I realized he was standing right in front of me. “Oh! Hey! Uh, would you maybe wanna, ehem, would you wanna go ou- get coffee? Tea? Coffee sometime ? “ “sure”

Sure? Sure? That’s all he said, okay uhh, “Cool! What day and time?” Shit where are we going though? “After school today if you can would be preferable.” Okay uhh, “sure, yeah, so uh, where though?” Please somewhere good please somewhere good please please please, “ just the shop down the street, meet me at the main entrance.” How is he so calm, oh my, fuck. “Okay! See you then!”

All I could think about the whole day was how stupid I sounded next to a completely stoic man, I kept decently cool though…after the whole initial bit there. It’s last period already? Fuck, fuck, fuck, what if I keep him waiting? Shit- oh.

He’s just getting out of class too? Okay good good..wait obviously it’s last period! Anyway uh get your stuff and okayyyy waiting for him and “Hey Xiao!“ “didn’t keep you waiting did i? Anyway, shall we go?” “We shall!” I follow him, his car is so nice, it smells new. Ew that’s weird don’t say that, okay uhh here we are.

The way he drives is kinda hot, the way he parks too? Okay well now maybe I’m just getting worked up because it’s my first date in a while… no he’s just hot- okay! “We’re here” “oh yeah! Sorry, was sort of daydreaming..” he chuckled and opened my door for me…he’s a gentleman too?

He’s so nice, he opened the door for me to go in before him, pulled out my chair, and pushed it in! I’ll have to pay because this is just too much to not repay. “What do you two want to get?” The waitress! God, she spooked me, I was just getting out my wallet so I could tell him to pay with my money but I guess when you sit down they come up and take your order.

“I’ll have a black iced coffee with French vanilla flavoring and a plate of almond tofu, please.” The waitress wrote down some things in scribbles I couldn’t understand much, “and for you?” I thought for a moment before answering, “I’ll have (your drink order) and… mmm maybe a chicken wrap?“ she started writing again, “will that be all?” We both nodded our heads.

We spoke with the usual small talk until our orders came, and once they did we began sipping and eating. In between bites and gulps we spoke about school and other things not as important, seeing as it’s our last year at this school it’s somewhat pointless to care as much about the sports we play or played. He spoke about baseball though, he seemed to enjoy talking about it. With my limited knowledge I asked questions here and there, which seemed to make him happy.

Once we were done we called our waitress over, “I can pay,” “No let me pay I was the one who asked you.” I watched as he continued to take out his wallet and sighed, “at least let me pay for your gas.” He nodded as he put the money in the shop’s card holder. He walked me out and pushed my seat in after me before I got the chance to do so, making me feel worse about not being able to pay.

“We still have a long time before it’ll get dark out, do you wanna do something?” I asked, hoping he had something he wanted to do. “Mm wanna go back to mine? My dad’s not gonna care, he’ll just tell you stories from when he was younger.” I nodded my head and texted my mom that I was going to a friends house, to which she replied with a gif saying ‘use protection!’ With a dancing condom. I silently groaned at my mom’s antics, before saying something about how it’s not like that.

Oh how wrong I was, once we got there I met his dad, Mr. Zhongli. We spoke to him for a while then went to Xiao’s room. He goes on to tell me about the things he has in his room, his cat named tofu, who’s a sphinx cat, and things about his friends. While he was talking I was admiring the architecture of his house and room, it was beautiful.

We spoke for hours, my phone occasionally buzzing, my friends texting me about something. I’m sure they think I’m getting laid right now, but this guy isn’t going to do anything on the first date. By the time 7:30 rolled around we laughed at their ideas of us hooking up, and then he drove me home. Unfortunately he met my mom, who doted on him a little too much.

Thankfully, though his dad had called him to get him home for dinner before it could get too bad. He left and my mom teased me until I walked away from the table. She giggled as I thanked her for dinner and cleaned my plate. Walking up to my room, I got ready for bed and fell asleep without even getting under the covers.

One date was amazing, but one turned into two, two turned into four, four into eight, eight into a couple. It’s been a month now, when I went over his house I noticed a bag on his dresser, he was on his bed, getting pillows for our pillow fort, and I asked him what was in the bag. I was just folding the blanket as I asked, it was an innocent question! “A box of condoms.” He replied, somehow unfazed. I dropped the blanket in shock, causing him to laugh.

“Don’t worry, they’re not mine, Childe asked me to get them for him, he was shopping with his little siblings when he realized he needed more, thus provoking him to ask me.” “Ohh, I mean I wasn’t worried but definitely shocked.” “They could be mine if you want them to be though,” he teased. I slapped his shoulder and carried the blanket off to the living room, making him laugh as he hopped from his bed to follow me.

Subtle hints that he’s ready to have sex with me persisted until we were close to our four month anniversary, then I made a few hints, and finally the day came. Our four month anniversary, we were at his place, considering we spent all the others at mine, and he had another box of condoms, this time for his own use.

It started off slowly, we waited till his father left for work, then he locked his door, making sure his cat wouldn’t walk in. Slow kissing, our mouths interwoven, creating a hot atmosphere. He was feeling up and down on my body, clothes mindlessly flew off layer by layer, our mouthes only disconnecting to rid ourselves of our tops and undergarments.

He opened the box and tore off a small black square from a link, setting it beside us on his bedside table. He took my left nipple in his mouth, the right being toyed with as his other had touched my sex. He played with my sex enough to prepare me for his finders going in my hole. He spit on his fingers before shoving them in, well, one at first, then two, and finally three.

He curled them inside me while also making sure to move back and forth. He then tore open the condom, rolling it down his shaft. He slowly pushed himself into me, making sure to continuously look up at me for approval, and once I told him to move it was shallow and slow thrusts. “Harder” I groaned, “fuck-yeah!”

He complied, his thrusts became rougher, he didn’t speed up though, until I told him to. The bed creaked with every thrust and he groaned, mumbled something about how good I felt around him. The feeling of his cock stroking in and out of my insides was phenomenal. This went on for hours, the room was filled with pants, groans, moans, and slurred words.

Thankfully he had a bathroom in his room making cleanup much easier, his sheets though, needed to be changed. They were stained with bodily fluids, we both got in the shower, him after me. Then we got dressed and changed his sheets, the new ones fresh out of the dryer. Tofu was cuddling me, on my chest while Xiao put his dirty sheet in the wash.

His dad didn’t come back until another hour had passed. Thankfully we were just playing with tofu while watching a movie, Major League to be exact. He came in to check on us, saying something about how he’d be making our shared favorite of his fathers dishes. He called us down for dinner an hour later. As we ate he congratulated us on four months of dating then spoke about his and our day, we lied saying we were watching movies all day.

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. There were movies going on in the background, we just weren’t paying attention. He believed it and offered to clean our plates for us in which Xiao happily obliged before I could say anything. He laughed at my shocked face then said, “wanna build a pillow fort?”

#snow.writes #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao #xiao fluff #xiao smut #modern genshin au

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lostinthe-jojos · 3 years ago

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❥Anon requested: Single dad Kazu because mom left, it was too much for her.

❥This is a repost from my old blog.

Kazutora woke up to the cries of his baby. He slowly opened his eyes and searched for his girlfriend, but the other side of the bed was empty. He remembered the argument they had had last night, both were under a lot of pressure and horrible things were said on both sides. He didn’t recall her going to bed, so he assumed she must’ve slept on the couch or in the baby’s room.

He closed his eyes again, thinking she could handle the situation this time, but after two minutes of incessant cries, he finally got up and cradled the baby against his chest, gently rocking her and humming a song.

The baby almost immediately stopped crying, her dad smiling down at her, wondering how someone like him could have helped create something so precious and delicate.

“Mommy must’ve gone to work early,” he said and kissed his daughter’s forehead, “oh, look, we have a text from your nanny”

After Taiga, his daughter, had been born, he had developed the habit of narrating everything to her. He felt like he was including her as much as possible in everything.

The text said she wouldn’t be able to go due to some family emergency. Kazutora glanced at the clock once again, it was almost time for him to go.

“Well,wait for me to get dressed real quick,” he said as he lowered her, trying to place her gently in her cradle, but she quickly disagreed with his actions, wailing, “no? okay, let’s get you dressed first”

He changed her diaper and dressed her in a flower print dress and a white romper.

“Look at you! You look like a little princess!” he said and laid her on his bed while he got dressed.

Once he finished, he tied his hair in a bun and prepared everything he might need to tend to his baby’s needs throughout the day and packed them on the stroller. Once he checked everything was under control, he headed out, deciding to grab something for breakfast on his way to the pet shop and maybe getting Chifuyu some tea.

“Oh, hi Taiga!” Chifuyu said when he saw the pair coming in, immediately walking to hold the baby, “aren’t you the most beautiful lady?” he said, pinching her cheek, making her giggle.

While Chifuyu played with Taiga, Kazutora started his daily routine at the shop.

“Kazutora, you can’t keep bringing her,” Chifuyu said, almost one hour later, the comment making Kazutora tense immediately, “she’s too cute, she keeps distracting me!”

Kazutora turned to look at them, when had Chifuyu grabbed the baby carrier?

“Sorry, the nanny had an emergency and couldn’t come” he said with an apologetic smile.

“Oh well, more time she spends with uncle Chifuyu then!” he said, looking at the baby and tickling her belly.

“Takemichi will come pick her up later”

Chifuyu pouted at his words,making Kazutora chuckle.

The day was uneventful. Takemichi went almost two hours later to pick up the baby, who seemingly had everyone enamoured with her and Kazutora and Chifuyu were left alone to go on their jobs. As hours passed by, Kazutora told Chifuyu about the argument with his girlfriend, seeking advice from his friend. Chifuyu offered some different insight, helping Kazutora see things from a different perspective. They went out to have lunch at the usual cafeteria and cleaned the pet shop, ordered some stuff, went through different appointments, offered clients some advice…

Later, Takemichi dropped by to ask for Kazutora’s keys, to prep Taiga’s dinner and get her ready for bed before he arrived, saying he’d be going with Hina, make dinner and leave once his girlfriend arrived.

It was ten o'clock when Kazutora arrived home and was surprised when Hina opened the door. He recognized the feeling in her eyes immediately, she was looking at him with pity.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—uh…Takemichi found something…” She said and handed him a folded piece of paper.

He recognized his name written in his girlfriend’s calligraphy, the one he had always loved and didn’t stop to read its content before dialing her number.

He felt nauseous while waiting for her to pick up the phone.

“Tora?”

“Where are you?”

“I” she sighed “I had to go, sorry”

“B-but where?” He was feeling anxious.

“I can’t tell you,” her voice sounded strained, like she had been crying. It broke Kazutora’s heart.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know,” she said, voice still trembling, “I’m so sorry, Tora”

“It’s okay, just… Take your time, we can fix th—”

“I don't— I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry”

And she hung up.

He dialed her number again and again but the same robotic voice sounded on the other line, mocking him.

“The number you are trying to call is unreachable. Please, try later”

He felt pain on his chest, like someone was holding his heart on their fist, squeezing it every time it bet. His gaze was unfocused, and felt like no matter how hard he tried, his lungs just didn’t work. It was suffocating. How was he going to handle this? What had he done? Why did everyone leave him behind? Why couldn’t he do anything right? How was he going to move on?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Taiga crying.

He couldn’t afford to break down, not this time. His baby depended on him. He had friends this time. He had to do this, no matter how hard it was.

“Takemichi,” he called his friend, “can you look over Taiga for a couple of days?” he said looking at him trying to contain his tears, “she’s not coming back. It’s just the two of us now, babygirl,” he told Taiga.

“Yes, anything we can do to help”

“Thank you”

Takemichi and Hina packed Taiga’s stuff and headed home, telling Kazutora to call them whenever he needed anything. He asked them to please tell the others what had happened, not feeling strong enough to repeat the story over and over again.

He took almost the entirety of the next day to cry and feel bad for himself and that night to recall what had led to his girlfriend’s decision. As the hours passed, he regretted brushing off the little details, little changes in her and her attitude. During her pregnancy, she was excited to have a baby. Everything seemed scary yet exciting. But once Taiga was born, she distanced herself from her. She didn’t want to hold her. She didn’t want to spend time with her. She would flinch everytime the baby cried. She would say it was normal, for some mothers, and that it would pass that she just needed some time.

The next day, he thought about all the good things he had now. Taiga, his job, his friends.

He remembered the day Taiga was born, the first time he saw her. How tiny and beautiful and perfect she was. His little miracle. He had to be strong for her, to be there for her.

“Takemichi, I’m coming over” he texted at noon.

Most of his friends were gathered at Takemichi’s house, and were surprised at how Kazutora was holding himself. He still looked sad, and allowed himself to be, not trying to hide it, but looked determined to go on with his life and take care of his daughter. It wouldn’t be easy and he knew it, but he was willing to do everything he could to make it work.

Do not repost, translate or distribute my work oustide of Tumblr.

#ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ — tokrev #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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yikesharringrove · 3 years ago

Text

We’re Us

A little commishy for my bxtch @thinger-strang.

Read on Ao3

This shit is SOFT

“Dustin, we all saw that fireball hit you,” Will said accusatorily, gesturing to the red bean bag on the ground at Dustin’s feet.

“Okay, first of all, you’re supposed to call a pause of play before using my real name,” Dustin said, all in one breath. “And second of all, the fireball only hit my lute, therefore I sustained no physical damage.” Dustin gestured to the cereal box that was taped to a jump rope, slung over his shoulder like it was a prized instrument.

“No, it didn’t. We all saw it hit your shoulder. You’d lose that arm at least, and take probably, like, fifty damage points.” Lucas pretended to aim a bow and arrow at Dustin while he spoke.

Dustin was getting dangerously close to huffy territory.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll take the stupid damage points. Can we resume play yet?”

Everyone nodded, and they fell right back into battle.

It wasn’t often they took the game off the DnD board, but the weather was perfect, summer beginning to make itself known a little earlier than usual, giving them April days that were clear and perfect and made for the best LARP sessions known to Indiana.

Will aimed a fireball at Max, and launched it right as she darted out of the way. It sailed past her, missing her left hand by less than an inch, and she laughed wildly, raising her pool noodle sword and aiming blow after blow at him.

The bean bag hit the fence and went spiraling awkwardly into the small alley between the house and the old wooden fence

It was Will’s last fireball, and he hurried to retrieve any he could reach, dodging as best as he could around Max’s wild sword-wielding.

She tended to wallop them as hard as she could, somehow knocking the wind out of them with her soft excuse for a sword.

Will scrambled to pick up his bean bag from the overgrown grass and curling weeds, catching his breath quickly in the alley where he couldn’t be seen.

And then a sound drew his attention away from the battle.

It was a soft sound. He wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the party had been so quietly focused on battling one another less than twenty feet away.

But he did hear it, and his head whipped around to find the source of it.

Steve and Billy.

Against the house.

Kissing.

It was like time stood still.

Like Will had been hit by one of Mage El’s freezing bombs.

Steve had Billy pushed up against the side of the house, their bodies pressed flush together.

Steve was clearly propping up Billy with his body, Billy’s mobility cane, the one he had let them cover in stickers, was laying forgotten on the ground.

Billy’s arms were wrapped around Steve’s shoulders, his hands curled in the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve had his arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, half holding him close, half not letting him fall without his cane.

They were kissing like they were trying to devour one another, and Will realized that the sound he had heard was a moan.

It wasn’t like seeing Lucas and Max kiss, or Mike or El, or even Nancy and Jonathan.

Seeing Billy and Steve,

Will knew he shouldn’t be seeing them.

He knew this was wrong, and people said two boys kissing was foul and bad.

But this didn’t look anything but, well, loving.

The way Steve was making sure Billy didn’t fall while they kissed, the way sometimes they would pull back and smile, their faces never moving more than a few inches away from one another.

One of Billy’s rough hands left its place clawed in Steve’s t-shirt, reaching forward to brush one thumb clumsily down his cheek.

They pulled back from one another, smiling stupidly, still staring into each other’s eyes.

Billy brushed his thumb down Steve’s cheek again, and Steve moved like he was nuzzling into the touch, turning his head to the right, pressing a kiss to Billy’s rough, scarred palm.

It made Will feel like he was floating in space with nothing keeping him down.

Steve pressed a kiss to Billy’s cheek, then his nose, then his other cheek, and Billy’s cheeks flushed and he giggled, a sound that was so foreign to Billy Hargrove it almost made Will rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing the right person.

And Billy smiled, so calmly and easily.

It made his whole face change. He looked like a completely different person.

And Will realized, he’s never actually seen Billy smile like this.

The only times he’d come close, we tight tiny things that never reached his eyes and were dropped within a second or two.

This was a genuine smile, full of genuine happiness, and god -

They’re in love.

They’re two boys, and they’re standing right in front of Will and they’re in love.

They went back to kissing, moving their heads slowly side to side, their mouths opening and closing and Will was so aware of having never kissed anyone before.

“Will, seriously! I’ve been yelling for you-”

Mike stopped talking the second he rounded the house.

He was stalk still, his mouth hanging open like a dead fish at what he saw.

Will’s heart was thundering against his ribcage, and he tried to push Mike back towards the game, pleading quietly at him to move.

And then the rest of the group was joining them. Faces mirroring Mike’s dead fish expression as they stared, open-mouthed, at Steve and Billy.

Will had his back to them, but in the quiet, he could hear. He could hear the soft sounds and the moans, and even the giggles that made his face go hot and his stomach do a whole gymnastics routine inside of him.

Will was staring at each of his friends in turn, pleading with them to just turn right around, and continue on with play as nothing had ever interrupted their battle.

Like they haven’t just stumbled on a huge and dangerous secret.

He went as far as to push Lucas, gently shoving him backward saying go! Go! Under his breath.

The last thing he needed was for Steve and Billy to notice them here. To realize what they had seen. What they know.

And then-

“What the fuck?”

Billy and Steve broke apart, looking towards the entrance of the alley, and seeing all six of the party, staring at them.

Max had been the one to speak, and she was looking at Billy oddly, almost like she didn’t know who he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Billy looked like he wanted to ground to swallow him right up.

Steve scrambled for the forgotten cane, keeping one hand on Billy’s elbow as he crouched down.

The movement made Will’s stomach flop over.

It was practiced.

Once Billy was standing on his own with the cane, Steve approached the kids calmly, his hands raised up like they were all wild animals that might attack at any moment.

“Look, I know how this looks, and you guys can’t-”

“It looks like, you guys were making out .” Dustin’s tone was hollow, and he looked as struck dumb as the rest of them.

“I know, and I mean, yeah. We were, but you need to listen -”

“Steve.”

Steve whipped right around when he heard the murmur.

Billy was standing slumped over against the house, one scarred, shaking hand covering his face, the other clutched so tightly to his cane his knuckles were white.

“Bill, I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re okay.” Steve rushed to Billy’s side, holding onto his elbow again, brushing his fingers softly through Billy’s short hair, winding his fingers through the wild curls that were just long enough to form. “I’ll deal with this. It’s okay. They’re not going to tell.” Steve glared at the kids when he said that, as if daring them to argue.

Billy kinda, fell forward, leaning against Steve once again, his face going into Steve’s neck.

Steve didn’t react, still brushing his fingers through sandy blond curls.

“You all know what could happen to us if people found out?”

Nobody answered him.

Truth is, they did know.

They knew the stories about young men being beaten nearly to death. Being run out of town or put in the hospital over nothing but a rumor.

Being gay wasn’t something that was tolerated in Hawkins.

Hell, Will himself has been pushed around and called queer as long as he could remember.

Even by his own father.

“We won’t tell anyone.” Will felt like how Billy looked. Like he was shaking apart right in front of them. “I promise. We won’t. Not anyone.” He could barely get the words out. It was like his jaw had locked up with the rest of his bones.

He thinks it would kill him if anything happened to Billy and Steve over this. They needed to keep them safe.

He needed to keep them safe.

“Yeah. I promise,” El parroted. Steve beamed at them.

Will knew El had been very confused the first time she heard about Ryan Anderson, the high school sophomore that had been humiliated and beaten so badly his family had to leave town six years ago.

She didn’t understand how a boy that liked to kiss other boys was something that merited violence.

Hopper had surprised them all by saying that it didn’t, but some people felt like it did.

Who you kiss doesn’t matter as much as who you are. If you’re a good person, it’s all just extra fodder. But some people like to they’re better than anyone that’s different than they are.

El had called those people bad and that was the end of it.

“Billy, I won’t tell.” Max didn’t take her eyes off Billy while she spoke. “I swear. I’ll never tell anyone. Not even mom.”

Billy’s hand flexed on the handle of the cane, and his knees gave a wobble. Steve kept him upright, leaning over to murmur into his ear.

Will could just barely make out the words I’ve got you.

“I promise, too.” Dustin’s cereal box/lute was forgotten on the grass at his feet. “The party protects each other. It’s one of our laws.”

“Yeah, we stick together. This isn’t different.” Max gave Lucas a watery smile when he spoke up in turn.

Mike was quiet.

It was well-known how much he disliked both Steve and Billy.

All of the kids had some trouble trusting Billy after everything that had happened last summer. Billy didn’t seem to blame them. He kept to himself, even when he moved from his cold room in the military hospital into the Byers’ spare bedroom seven months ago, he was like a ghost moving through the house.

Only Steve could make him come out of his shell in those early days. Only Steve could make Billy join them for dinner and movie nights, take slow walks around the yard with his walker, and later with his cane. Only Steve could make Billy’s shoulders relax from their defensive position up around his ears, and now, it was finally dawning on everyone why.

The kids mostly left him alone, only Max and El bridging the gap and actually speaking to him. Max had been determined to see Billy through his recovery, glaring at him and watching like a ginger hawk while he did his physical therapy, practicing his grip and moving buttons from one bowl to another.

El would sometimes talk to Billy in a hushed voice. She would get him on his own and hush words like Papa and Mama and bad and Billy would have to retreat to his bedroom for slowly decreasing amounts of time.

Nobody but Joyce and Hopper knew what she saw in Billy’s head. They were just informed that he wouldn't be returning home after his two-month stint in the military hospital. Max hard clenched her jaw and nodded jerkily and nobody dared ask any further questions.

He and Will traded a lot of good mornings and tended to generally avoid eye contact when they came across one another in the house.

But none of them hated him, they were just a little weary.

Mike, on the other hand, had some unexplained vendetta against both Billy and Steve and Will found himself willing Mike to be kind in this moment. To not see this as some power over them, or something.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Dustin’s right. We protect each other.”

Steve gave them a smile that was so dazzling and bright, it almost gave off its own light.

His eyes were shining and he gave a watery laugh.

“They really meant it when they said children are the future.”

“Who said?” El asked him.

“I don’t know, actually. Just people, I guess.” Steve shrugged, jostling Billy who was still nestled in his shoulder. “Look, seriously guys, thank you. I can’t even imagine how I would’ve felt if-nevermind.” He cut himself off quickly, shaking his head. “It just means a lot. To both of us.” Steve smiled at them one last time, this time much softer and thoughtful. “You’re good kids.”

Nobody said anything else. They didn’t know what to say to Steve.

“I came back here to get my fireballs. I, uh, I got ‘em.”

Everyone looked back at Will, and, almost like they were coming out of a trance, began picking their makeshift weapons back off the grass, and chattering idly as they went back to the yard in order to continue their battle.

Will lingered for a second, looking over his shoulder at Steve and Billy, who were still wound together.

They were talking softly, and Will was pleased to see Billy lift his head back up, still looking pale and nervous, but smiling at Steve.

He leaned back down and planted a kiss on Steve’s neck, right above the edge of his t-shirt.

Will felt his face go hot, and tugged himself away, going back to the game.

It wasn’t until well after dinner, when everyone else had gone home, that they spoke about it again.

Will. Will! Do you copy? Over.

The static rasping of Mike’s voice through the walkie-talkie was coming from under Will’s bed where he had stashed it.

He quickly turned down the volume dial on the side before answering.

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. Over.”

“We need to talk about today,” Mike said through the walkie. “I mean, did you have any idea? Over.”

“No. I didn’t,” Will said, truthfully. Finding out had made a lot of things clunk into place, but that doesn’t mean Will knew. “Over.”

“It’s just, neither of them seem the type. You know? Over.”

Something about that statement didn’t sit too right with Will.

Before he could respond another voice crackled through the channel.

“This is gold leader joining the conversation to let Mike know he’s being a dick. Over.”

Will laughed. Trust Dustin to listen in on the conversation and come forward to defend Steve.

“Lucas, do you copy, too? Over.” Will waited a moment after he asked.

“Yeah, I copy. I wanted to hear what you all were saying first. I don’t really know what to think about all this. Over.”

“I don’t think there’s much to think about. Steve seems happy. Billy too, I guess. Over,” said Dustin.

Will’s heart swelled with a pride he didn’t quite understand at Dustin’s words.

Outside in the hall, the phone rang.

Will heard his mom scramble to pick it up, calling softly down the hall for Billy, and the unmistakable thumping of Billy and his cane coming to take the call.

He heard his mom scrape a chair over for him and retreat to her room, giving him some privacy.

“It’s just scary, you know? Like, something really bad could happen to them if anyone else found out.” Will thought for a second. “You think anyone else knows? Over.”

“Robin. She was making comments to Steve a few days ago about his secret relationship and I kept asking him about it until he punched me in the arm. She knows. Over.”

“I’m just confused,” Mike sighed down the line. “Steve dated my sister for like, a year. And Billy is always disgusting and flirting with my mom. Or at least, he would do that. You know, before. Over.”

“Yeah, that’s just Billy being Billy,” Max chimed in.

“You have to say over when you’re finished. Over.”

“ Fine, dickheads. Over.”

“That makes sense, but Steve and Nancy doesn’t. Over.”

“Lucas, it doesn’t have to make sense. David Bowie says he likes guys and girls. Billy has, like, three different magazines where he says that. Over.”

“Max is right. We don’t have to understand any of this. They seem happy, and good together, and that doesn’t really concern us. Over.” Will was hoping he could speed through the rest of this conversation. He could hear Billy in the hall, shifting and murmuring something Will couldn’t make out but was dying to overhear.

He had a feeling he knew who was calling.

“But, now it does concern us. We know. And as we’ve previously established, the more people that know, the more danger they could be in. Over .” Dustin almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Then, we can’t talk about it. Not unless we know for a fact that we aren’t going to be overheard. And maybe we should give them codenames. Only call them something like Han and Leia when there’s a chance of someone listening in. Over.”

“I like Lucas’s codename idea, but I’d rather die than call them Han and Leia. Over.”

“Okay, Mike, it was the first thing that came into my head! What, you think you have a better idea? Over.”

“I don’t know. Harold and Maude? Over.”

“That’s stupid, Mike. Clearly, they’re Bert and Ernie. Over.”

Will snorted at Max’s suggestion. He heard Billy coughing wildly in the hall. He listened carefully to him until it died down and he knew it wasn’t a bad one.

“I think we’ve come to an agreement. If we need further discussion, codenames: Bert and Ernie. Okay, my mom wants me to spend time with her tonight. So this is gold leader, signing off. Over and out.”

“I’m going too. Over and out,” Mike said.

“Over and out,” said El, not surprising any of them that she was listening in. She did that a lot. Simply listen to her own walkie, and when asked why she didn’t say anything would shrug and go nothing to add. They only asked that she sign off so that they knew she got whatever information they had discussed.

Everyone followed with their own sign-offs, and Will twisted the top knob on his walkie, shutting it off.

There was a moment of silence out in the hall, and then three beats on Will’s door.

He found Billy on the other side, slumped in the chair under the phone, his cheeks going red.

“Can’t get up,” he grunted. “Can’t reach the hook.”

Will didn’t say anything, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact as he took the phone, placing it carefully back on the hook.

Billy got stuck in chairs fairly often.

His core muscles had been slashed up worse than anything else, and sometimes he just needed a good pull up.

Will took hold of his wrist, leaning his body weight backward to yank Billy to standing.

Billy kept his weight heavily on his cane, patting Will once on the upper arm in thanks.

“You guys know Steve has one of your little walkie-talkies, right?”

“ What ?”

Will genuinely didn’t know that.

“Dustin gave him one. I don’t know when, but he’s got it.”

“So, uh, so he heard. Everything.”

“And relayed it all to me through an embarrassing amount of tears, by the sounds of it.”

But Will could see that Billy’s eyes were brighter than usual in the dark, and suddenly Will remembered that there had been a wet spot on Billy’s sleeve.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, well, you’re good kids. All of you.” Billy patted him on the shoulder again. “I was shitting myself out there when you found us. Thought for sure one a’ yous would go squealing.”

“Maybe we would’ve. Before.”

“Never thought I’d be grateful for nearly being turned inside-out.”

“And I never thought I’d be grateful for being found dead in the water, but here we are.”

“Yeah, shit’s pretty weird if you stop and think about it for a few minutes. Near-death experiences really put your sexuality in perspective.”

“Is that why you two started dating? Perspective?”

Billy huffed a breath, looking up towards the ceiling. He coughed twice, and Will could pretty much hear his lungs rattle and crackle.

“Yeah. ‘S why we started dating. Both of us kinda realized there’s no sense in feeling like shit about the things that can actually make you feel not like shit.”

“So, you’re in love? Both of you?”

Billy’s cheeks were flooded with color, the deep red spreading all the way back to the tips of his ears.

“I think so. We’re both a little too fucked in the head to say it, but,” he shrugged lamely, not bothering to finish his thought, and looking anywhere but at Will.

He gets it, though.

Fucked up parents make for fucked up kids.

Will considered himself the luckiest person on Earth, and any kinda parallel universe, that he had his mom to stop, and later heal, all the damage his dad had caused.

“Well, I’m glad that you have it. Both of you. I mean, we saw you guys. And after everything, it's good that you’re happy.” And Will meant it.

Even before last summer, he had never seen Billy look the way he did when he was kissing Steve. Look that calm, and relaxed, and that goddamn happy. It really meant something.

Especially to Will.

Because he had never thought of someone looking that happy when they kissed someone else.

He had never thought of a boy looking that happy when he kissed another boy.

Billy surveyed Will for a moment, still leaning heavily on his cane in the hallway.

Will had the suspicion that Billy could see right through him.

“He came to visit me a lot when I was in the hospital. Steve, I mean. I don’t know why he did. It’s not like we were friends or anything. But one of those days, when I was barely awake he started talking about everything that happened those couple days.” Billy shifted closer to the wall, bracing himself with one hand as he lowered himself back into the chair. “The Russians. I don’t know what he’s told you kids, but it wasn’t pretty.”

“He hasn’t said anything. I mean, we all saw how he looked after, so we figured maybe he got in a fight.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip.

“Look, you gotta swear not to tell any of the others this, but, uh, it was a bit more than a fight.”

Billy was giving him a meaningful look and something churned around in Will’s stomach.

“Torture?”

Billy gave a tiny, shaky nod.

“He started talking about it. Said after that, he started thinkin’ about shit different. Said he thought he was gonna die down there and that nothing would change without him. It was heavy, and I was mostly feeling the same way, and I think that’s why he told me. Knew that I could get it. After that he kept visiting, and I noticed that I didn’t hurt as much when he was there. Or maybe I did, but having him there, squinting at the t.v. ‘cause he can’t see worth a’ shit, or making some stupid comment about a nurse on the floor just made it easier. He makes a lotta shit easier.”

“I think that’s what it should be like. I don’t think love should make things harder.” Will thought of his mom and dad, and how different she acted with Hopper.

Like she didn’t hurt as much when he was there.

“It was hard in the beginning. I mean, before we got together. I thought that he didn’t feel the same way, you know? That I was just being an idiot, feeling like that for my best friend. But then he told me. He’s always been a lot braver than people give him credit for. Anyway, he told me, and it should’ve been fucking terrifying. And I was scared of people finding out. Still am, but it’s like, even if we get run outta town, and everyone we care about turns against us, it’ll be fine because we’re not just me an’ him, we’re us .”

Billy blinked quickly, almost as if he was surprised by his own words.

They clanged around in Will’s head.

We’re not just me an’ him, we’re us.

“You don’t have to be scared, though. I mean, of people finding out. Of turning against you both. We won’t let that happen. Not about something like this.”

Billy gave him a weak smile.

“I guess it makes sense. I mean, you all took me in after killing half the town. Tracks that you wouldn’t throw me out for. Being gay.”

“There are worse things to be than gay.”

“Psycho killer not one of them?”

Will gave Billy as unimpressed of a stare as he could muster.

“That wasn’t you. You forget, I know what it was like to have him controlling me. I know what it’s like to not do anything to stop him, even when you are fighting with everything you’ve got. I nearly killed my mom. I even might have, if I’d been stronger. You fought against him, and in the end, you won. I never could’ve done that.”

Billy just stared at the wall slightly above Will’s left shoulder.

“I killed people, too. When he had me. Led a whole group of people right into a trap. And it still scares me what he did. But I know that it wasn’t me that did it. It wasn’t you that did any of that, Billy.”

“I tell myself that. Hell, Steve tells me that about every five minutes. Just hard to watch yourself doing that awful shit and not be able to tell your body to knock it off.”

Will didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

Billy was right. It was a nightmare watching yourself hurt people around you, feeling like you were in the backseat, screaming at yourself to stop.

But Billy had done what Will couldn’t’ve.

Right at that last moment, he stood up to the thing controlling his every move.

Stood up to that horrific flesh monster, adn died rather than let it kill El.

El, who he didn’t even know.

And then Billy’s bedroom door down the hall opened slowly, and Steve poked his head into the hall, swearing under his breath when he saw someone in the hall with Billy and trying to duck out of sight, knocking the back of his head into the doorframe and swearing again.

Billy laughed, a low wheezy laugh that ended in a short coughing fit.

“Real fuckin’ subtle, Harrington,” he choked out.

The door opened once more and Steve stepped out into the hallway, trying to look casual.

“I didn’t realize it was you there, Will. How’s it goin’?”

Billy laughed again, and gestured for Steve to come and help him stand up.

Steve did so quickly, smiling warmly at Billy when he had righted him on his feet, and keeping hold of Billy’s arm.

“Why are you sneakin’ in my window like some kinda perv?”

“Because I wanted to talk. I have a lot of emotions today.” Steve turned to address Will. “You kids are gonna be the death of me. And I mean that in the nicest way I possibly can.”

“Yeah, well. You guys are family.” Will shrugged, feeling very awkward when both Steve and Billy. Looked as though their eyes were overbright. Will panicked, trying to think of an exit strategy before he saw either of them cry.

He had seen them both in too many intimate moments today.

“Um, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Let me know if you need, uh, help tomorrow. You know, heading of my mom or anything.”

Will turned on his heel and slipped back into his own bedroom.

“Alright, Bert. It’s been a long day and I’m gonna need some help getting into bed. My legs have gone totally stiff.”

“Oh, in no way am I Bert! I’m totally Ernie. You’re Bert. Think about it: you’re surly, and rude, and-”

“Gonna dump you if you don’t shut up and help me go to bed.”

“Spoken like a true Bert.”

#the big schmoop #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i thinkg this was for #harringrove for palestine #but i really can't remember #idk merlin donated some money somehweere and i wrote this 💕

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dubersbutt · 3 years ago

Text

Take a Bow (4) - Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

Warnings: Babies, anxiety/feelings of heightened anxiety, smut

It’s not that Connor hates kids. They just make him uncomfortable.

Like when his aunt had a baby when he was 13 his mom asked if Connor wanted to hold him. Connor was fine when his mom gently placed the baby in his arms. Up until his mom told her to be super careful with his head or else he could snap his neck and kill him. Or if Connor accidently pressed his soft spot it could severely detriment his brain development. It was too much responsibility.

At least that’s what he used to think.

He fell in love with Emilia the minute you walked through the front door with her in the baby carrier. The dogs were excited by the tiny squirming arms inside the carrier, he had to hold Lenny back so he didn’t crush her.

“This is going to sound super cliche,” Connor says as he coos into the carrier where Emilia is trying to open her tiny eyes, “but she is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s a lot cuter now that her head is a normal shape,” you joke, munching on a cookie Connor had set out for you.

“Can you stop making fun of our daughter’s cone head?” Leon rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t see it, it was terrifying.”

(Connor googles a picture of it later. Babies are fucking weird.)

He helps you up the stairs to the waiting cup of tea on the mug warmer in your bedroom. He lets you get settled, handing you the TV remote and giving you a kiss on the forehead before going back downstairs to meet his daughter (step-daughter? Connor didn’t really know).

“Can I hold her?” Connor asks when he finds Leon and Emilia in the living room.

“What happened to the three month rule?” He raises an amused eyebrow.

Connor had created it after the incident. He didn’t hold a baby that was younger than 3 months.

��I’m feeling brave.”

Leon scooches over so Connor has room to sit comfortably. Leon gently places Emilia in his arms, and gives Connor a pillow to prop his arm on. Emilia’s blinks at him before squirming and stretching her little arms over her head. Connor feels all warm and fuzzy in his chest.

“Hello, Emilia,” he says, with a smile on his face, “I’m your other dad.”

~~~

Connor’s not inherently a jealous person.

Or at least he thought he was. But ever since Emilia came home he’s been feeling it. He loves Emilia, don’t get him wrong. Well, actually, he should backpedal for a second.

Connor is still annoyed at Leon.

He knows he should probably bring this up (because look what happened last time) but he hasn’t because Leon was trying to make things right with you. He obviously was trying with Connor as well, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was an afterthought. Some days were better than others, but everytime Connor thought about how he woke up and couldn’t find Leon in the penthouse he felt like puking.

Emilia eases the pain. He truly does love her like his own. The only time he uses the “she’s your kid” card is when it's 2 am and he’s too tired to get up. But he rarely even does that because Connor’s always been the heaviest sleeper out of the three of you. But other than that, he volunteers for bathtime, plays with her while you’re in the shower, he doesn’t even hate changing diapers that much.The puppies love her too, they’ve transitioned from napping on the dog beds in the living room to the spot on the couch closest to the bassinet to keep an eye on them. He regularly has to stop Lenny from trying to jump in and crush Emilia.

Back to Leon (Connor tends to get side tracked when talking about Emilia). Connor’s still annoyed and he’s been working up to talking about it. But it never seems like a good time. First you were pregnant, and Connor didn’t want to upset either of you. Then it was playoffs and Connor didn’t have any time to think about anything else. Then they got swept and Connor did nothing but eat ice cream for a week like he just had his first heartbreak. And after that…well, he just hates confrontation.

He keeps telling himself that he’ll get around to it, that he just wants to gather his thoughts but he knows he’s stalling at this point. Mostly because -

“So did you do what we talked about last session?” Sophie, his therapist, asks him at the beginning of his appointment.

-his therapist calls him on his bulshit. And he realizes that’s the whole reason he pays her, but it’s still rude.

“About that…” Connor trails off.

She gives him an amused smile, “Connor, you know I don’t like telling you what to do but I strongly suggest you talk to Leon.”

“Sophie, my girlfriend gave birth, we started playoffs and got swept all in the last two weeks,” he says with an exasperated sigh, “I deserve a little time for myself. Isn’t that what you told me last week?”

“I was getting to that,” she says.

Connor almost didn’t show up to his first session. He spent the whole ride over that he his therapist would be a quiet homophobe and who’d sell his story to the presses and ruin his life.

But then he went in and saw the framed photo of Sophie and her wife and their twins. He let out a sigh of relief and felt more comfortable telling her about his life. She didn’t even really watch hockey and she told him that he thought he was a “good player” for his age. Connor always has to stop himself from laughing whenever she tries to compliment his playing style. She’s adorable.

“And what about (Y?N)? Have you thought about what you were going to say to her?”

He knows. He just doesn’t know if you’ll want the same thing.

“I have, a little bit.”

“And would you like to share what you’ve been thinking about?”

“I-uh,” he swallows, “I want another baby?”

“Is that a question?”

“I don’t think so.”

Sophie sends him home with the same homework he had last week: try to slowly figure out what he wants to say when he’s eventually ready to have a talk.

When he comes home, Leon’s standing in the kitchen by Emillia’s bottle warmer. He looks stupid hot holding a baby and Connor’s only mildly annotated about it.

“Hey,” he flashes Connor a bright smile when he notices Connor’s presence, “Can you hold her while I make her a bottle?”

“Sure,” He takes Emilia from Leon before sliding the dimmer down on the light switch. Her eyes slowly open in the dim light and her gumless smile warms Connor’s heart.

“Hello sweet girl,” he coos, watching as she somehow wiggles an arm loose from her blanket, “I love you. I hope you had a good morning.”

He doesn’t expect her to answer, obviously, but she does start to open and close her mouth, indicating she's hungry.

“Leo, you’re too slow,” he taunts playfully, watching as Leon carefully measures out the formula, “she’s starving over here.”

“I can only move so fast,” he laughs.

When Leon finally gets Emilia her bottle Connor relaxes into the dining room chair as she eats her lunch.

“How was therapy?”

Connor told you and Leon that he started going when he came home from his session. Connor didn’t divulge everything that happened in his sessions but it felt nice to have someone ask.

“It was good,” he says, leaning over and resting his head on Leon’s shoulder, “I only cried a little this time.”

Leon chuckles, “Does that mean therapy’s working?”

“Probably.”

~~~

Connor can’t help but laugh when he rewatches the interview of Leon talking about Emilia. He manages to somehow be adorable and sarcastic at the same time. You’re settled against his chest with your ipad resting on your lap and he can feel your giggles as Leon gives his short, glib answers to the journalists' annoying questions.

(Congratulations, she’s very cute.

“I know. She is my daughter after all.”

Your girlfriend’s not going to get mad about that comment?

“She’s gonna get mad if you keep asking questions about her newborn.”)

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen this yet,” Connor says as he runs his fingers through your hair.”

“Neither can I,” you giggle as Leon looks into the camera like he’s on the Office.

Leon rolls his eyes as he emerges from the bathroom, now freshly shaven.

“It’s not that funny,” he says.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Leo,” Connor says, gently hooking his fingers in Leon’s chain to pull him down for a kiss, “You’re very funny.”

“Why did you shave?” you say as Leon turns to give you a kiss, “Your beard looked so good.”

“It was also getting super scratchy,” Connor says.

Leon gets under the covers on Connor’s otherside, “Yeah Emilia’s been distracting me from the beard routine.”

You scoff, “the scratch is the best part, Con.”

“Tell that to the scratch marks on my ass,” Connor says without thinking, and then immediately blushes.

You groan, “Don’t talk about anything remotely sexy when my poor vagina is still healing from pushing out a whole watermelon.”

Leon laughs, “Don’t worry, baby, the beard will be back by the time you get your 6 week all clear.”

~~~

(5 weeks later - after your 6 week all appointment)

“Guess what bitches,” you shout as you enter the kitchen, “I can finally have sex again.”

“Mhm,” Leon hums, feigning disinterest, “And what would you like me to do about that?”

“You’re mean and not funny,” you say lightly hip-checking him, “Besides I have two boyfriends for a reason.”

“Yeah about that,” Connor stretches and yawns, “Emilia kept me up last night so I was gonna take a nap.”

You blink, “I will go to Whyte Av and find some rando to screw in a coat closet, don’t fucking test me.”

Leon grabs your hips and pulls you against his body so your back is flush against his chest before walking forward and pressing your hips into the kitchen counter.

“As if I could pass up the opportunity to fuck this sweet little pussy,” he grinds his hips, pushing your hips further into the counter.

“What have you been cleared for?”

“L-light, non-strenous sex.”

Connor laughs, “Boring, but better than nothing.”

“Davo, take her upstairs,” Leon commands so Connor scoops you up and carries you bridal style to the bedroom.

“Wait wait,” you say when they reach the top, “Where’s Emilia.”

“She’s napping in her crib,” Connor says as he drops you onto the bed, “Leo’s gonna check on her before he comes. So you can turn your brain off for a little bit.”

Connor doesn’t wait to hear your answer, just presses his lips to yours. He fels you moan against him. Connor’s hands slide under your shirt, slowly exposing skin. When he gets it over your head he trails his kisses down your body, unhooking your bra as he does. His kisses move in between your breasts to your belly.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as he kisses your belly button, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

He hooks his fingers on your shorts, pulling them down your legs. He settles himself on the bed as he spreads your legs to press kisses to your inner thigh.

“Perfect,” Connor says, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin.

The tiny hitch of your breath causes all of his blood to rush straight to his dick, but he can’t bring himself to care. He takes his time, warming you up with kisses to your inner thighs, gently scraping his teeth against the skin. He kisses your pussy before running his tongue through your folds. His tongue gently caresses your clit with his tongue. Your hand comes down in his hair when he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your hips start to move against his face, grinding down to give yourself more friction.

“So impatient,” he hums, fucking one finger in you.

“It’s been six whole weeks,” you say, “I haven’t gone six weeks without sex since I was a virgin.”

Connor chuckles, “Easy baby, we’ll get there.”

~~~

Connor can’t help himself when he sees you changing Emilia’s onesie in her nursery. He walks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “And good morning to the world’s most adorable baby.”

Emilia gurgles but doesn’t retort. Smh, someone needs to teach her how to be humble.

“Morning,” you reply, buttoning up her fresh onesie, “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he responds with another kiss, “Except when you kicked me in my ribs.”

“I take offense to that,” you raise an eyebrow, “I am an angel in bed. And, yes, pun intended.”

Connor snorts, “We both know that's a lie.”

Both Connor and Leon have been victims of your aggressive sleeping style. One of these days he’s gonna tie all your limbs down, and not in a sexy way. But not in a murderous way either, let’s make that clear. In a Connor-wants-one-singular-night-to-not-get-punched-in-his-sleep way.

Oh god, his brain is rambling. Oh god, he does not want to do this.

“(Y/N),” he says before he can talk himself out of it, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

“About what?” you ask, holding Emilia close as you sit down in the rocking chair.

“I…” Connor has never been this sweaty in his life, “I want another baby.”

“Oh,” you say, indifferent, “Congratulations.”

His brow furrows, “what?”

“On growing a uterus,” you arch an eyebrow, “Because I sure as hell am not using mine again for like 3 years.”

Connor laughs, “I wasn’t saying right away. But, I just want to know if it’s something on the table.”

“I want another baby,” you say, “And as long as you’re willing to wait, I don’t see why it would be an issue.”

~~~

And Connor definitely feels lighter after his talk with you. And he even impresses Sophie by actually doing his homework for once:

“So did you talk to Leon yet?” She asks after he’s finished giving his rundown of his week.

“No,” he says sheepishly, “But I did talk to (Y/N) about having another baby.”

She has the professionalism to not look shocked, but Connor is getting a little better at reading her. Or at least he thinks he is. He still gets anxious whenever she writes things on her notepad, “and how did that go?”

“Honestly, it was better than I expected.”

“How so?”

He shrugs, “I guess I was just expecting the worst?”

“And why is that?”

He shrugs again, “Isn’t that something that you’re supposed to figure out when you psychoanalyze me at the beginning of every session?”

Sophie throws her head back in laughter, “You do know I can’t read your mind right.”

It sure feels like she can sometimes. Which is why he pays her but still, it’s rude. ~~~

Connor thought he was sweaty and anxious before talking to you. However, when it comes time to talk to Leon he also feels nauseous. Like, he might throw up in the kitchen sink again nauseously. But he’s been sitting on this for a few months now - but what if Leon hates him. What if he doesn't want to be with Connor anymore. What if he asks for a trade?

No, Connor’s spiraling. Leon’s a rational person; he's not gonna hate Connor for talking about his feelings, something Leon encourages because Connor tends to bottle things up until he explodes.

But what if-

No. No spiraling, yet.

“Leo,” Leon hums against Connors chest from his spot on the couch next to him, “You still awake?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, “But I was thinking about going upstairs soon.”

Connor shuts the TV off, “Um, actually before that can we...talk?”

Leon sits up and stretches, “What about?”

Connor takes a deep breath, “I think - I think I’m mad at you?”

Leon looks a little confused, and Connor can’t say he blames him, “You think you’re mad at me?”

“I-yeah,” he takes another breath, “I know you’ve been trying really hard to reconcile with (Y/N), and that’s great, and I’m definitely not trying to say I take priority over her, but it kind of feels like you’ve put me on the backburner a bit.”

Leon nods, “How so?”

Connor shrugs, “I mean, when you came back and you apologized it was definitely pointed towards her. And it’s the little things, like you always make what (Y/N) wants for dinner and not me. It feels a little bit like there’s a hierarchy here.”

“Do you...feel this way with (Y/N) too?”

“A little bit,” he says, “But mostly with things concerning Emilia, so it’s not as big of an issue.”

Connor realized he feels a bit…scorned, for lack of a better word. Connor was with you first, and that’s not something he feels jealous about but now it’s all coming up. Connor never left you, Connor was the one who held back your hair and wiped your tears when Leon was MIA. Connor was there, Leon left.

...maybe he did need to talk to you some more.

~~~

Connor and Leon spend a long time talking on the couch before they join you in bed. Eventually, Leon puts his head in Connor’s lap as the conversation turns mundane and they just enjoy each other’s presence. It’s been a while since they’ve done that. They end the night with a little make out session that doesn’t lead anywhere more. It was nice.

The next morning Connor’s on baby duty. Not that he minds, it’s always nice to start his day with a smile from Emilia. He changes her diaper and puts a fresh sleeper on her, listening to the little baby noises she makes. When he’s finished he takes her downstairs to the kitchen where you and Leon are making breakfast.

“Good morning, babe,” Leon says when Connor turns the corner, “Do you want strawberries or blueberries on your french toast?”

Leon was making his favourite breakfast. Connor can’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“And how’s my favourite girl?” he asks, giving Emilia a little kiss on her forehead.

“A pooping machine,” Connor responds to her, and Emilia laughs at him.

“Did she just-?” you get from your spot on the barstool and run to Connor’s side.

“Her first laugh?” Connor says, “Yeah.”

He tickles her belly in an effort to get her to keep laughing, but she chooses that moment to be a stubborn newborn and frowns instead.

He looks at Leon, “She is absolutely your baby.”

“I smiled when I was a baby!”

“No, Leo he’s got a point,” you say in between funny faces, “your mom said she has one baby photo of you smiling because you would refuse to smile for the camera.”

“I was shy.”

“You’re a robot,” Connor says.

“Like you’re one to talk,” you scoff.

~~~

“Connor please,” you pant, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

Connor holds back a laugh, watching the sweat drip down your face, “I thought this is what you wanted?”

“Leo!,” you yell, catching his attention from across the room, “Tell Connor he’s being an ass.”

Leon does not hold back his laugh, “He’s got a point.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting bullied right now.”

Connor wraps his arms around you and pulls you close into his body, “It’s just some squats, baby, it’s not the end of the world.”

“It is when you keep adding weight!”

“Because you’re stronger.”

You just stare at him and, honestly, Connor feels a little scared.

“Tell you what,” he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “If you make it through your sets, without complaining, Leo and I will take turns eating you out tears run down your pretty little face.”

“Promise?” you hold out your pinky.

Emilia’s being babysat by her grandparents so Connor feels no qualms when he links his pinky with yours, “Promise.”

“Promise what?” Leon pipes up from his place on the leg press.

“Connor offered up your body in exchange for squats,” you say, shouldering the bar once more.

“And what did Connor say I would do?”

“You’ll find out,” Connor says, waving a hand at Leon nonchalantly.

“I don’t even get to know how I’m being used as a bargaining chip?”

“Nope,” Connor says with a smile, popping the ‘p’.

~~~

Leon learns what the exact terms and conditions are of the agreement about an hour later. And, just like Connor expected, he does not complain.

He even has the audacity to wink at Connor as he’s tongue-deep in pussy. Ugh, he forgot what the butterflies in his stomach felt like when he’s not constantly annoyed with Leon. He can’t help himself, he gets up from where he was giving his jaw a break, and slides his fingers over Leon’s hole. Leon tenses up ever so slightly, he breaks the momentum he had on you, evident by how hard your ankles are digging into Leon’s shoulders.

“Don’t stop,” Connor grunts, slipping one digit past the rim, “You don’t cum until she does.”

He slides his finger all the way before uncapping the lube and lathering his fingers up and adding a second. Connor knows when he hits Leon’s prostate when He lets out a low groan into your cunt.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you whine, writhing against the sheets.

Leon pushes back on Connor’s fingers at the same time your hips start to grind down feverishly on Leon’s face.

“Make her cum, Leo,” Connor says, removing his fingers from Leon’s ass and teasing his hole once more.

Leon’s focus changes completely. His fingers dig into your hipbones, pulling you closer to him so he has a better angle. Your chest is rising and falling quickly, heaving off the bed when Leon finally sucks your clit. You cum with a shout, tumbling over the edge, pussy clenching around Leon’s tongue.

Connor wastes no time, grabbing Leon’s hips to steady him before spreading Leon's cheeks and swiping his tongue in long, broad strokes. Connor’s not the biggest fan of rimming, but Leon loves it. Leon groans as Connor teases him, starts to rut against the bed when Connor’s tongue dips into his hole, loses it when Connor starts to fuck him open with his tongue. He reaches over to jack Leon off, pumping him as he continues to take him apart. Leon goes limp beneath him, reduced to nothing but moans. Connor speeds up his ministries, revealing in the way Connor’s name falls weakly from Leon’s mouth. Leon bucks hard against the bed, cums with a shudder. Connor takes his hand off Leon's cock, and places it on his own but doesn’t quite relent on his tongue, working Leon through the aftershocks' pleasure. It doesn’t take very long for Connor to cum, finally letting up on Leon and effectively ruining his boxers.

“Aw Leo,” Connor says once he can catch his breath, “We have to watch the duvet cover now.”

~~~

“Where is my baby?” Connor teases playfully when you walk through the door, baby carrier in hand.

“Calm your tits,” you say, placing the carrier on the kitchen counter and allowing Connor to take her out, “She’s home, and just woke up from a nap.”

“I wish I took a nap today,” Connor says as he rocks Emilia in his arms. She gives Connor a toothless smile and Connor just wants to smoosh her.

“Has anyone ever told you, you look really good holding a baby?” Leon says, giving Connor a quick peck on the cheek.

“Good enough to have another baby?” Connor asks.

You roll your eyes, “Two years, Con.”

“I’m just teasing.”

And, yeah, Connor finally starts to feel like he’s home again.

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