#i've been out of town and unable to post and then coming back to this episode with my 1 takeaway feels disappointing!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s1 episode 14 thoughts

this episode made me deeply uncomfortable for a myriad of reasons so instead of doing my usual long breakdown/review, i leave you with one thing worth remembering:

scully finding a random horse on the side of the street and immediately befriending it was deeply endearing <3

[youunravelme]

nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1

author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.

summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!

after

despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.

but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.

the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.

“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.

“how was work?” your mom asked.

you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.

when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.

but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.

but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.

it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.

“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”

both of your parents hummed.

“did you have dinner already?” you asked.

“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.

your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”

you wanted to throw up.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.

“oh,” was all you could say.

“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”

you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 

“i’ll figure something out,” you said.

your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

after

you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.

“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”

“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.

“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”

your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.

you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”

but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.

you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.

and that’s what life had felt like lately:

unfortunate.

unfortunate shit just happening to you.

it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.

you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.

emma:

hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!

you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.

years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.

but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.

you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.

now it just filled you with dread.

no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.

but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.

you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.

you:

i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!

and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.

before

the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.

missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.

it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.

school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.

now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.

and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.

the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.

especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 

all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.

which is how you ended up playing the game of life.

even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.

you found yourself smiling and laughing along.

you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.

“are you having fun?” he asked.

your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”

“really?” he smiled.

you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”

matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”

you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.

but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.

you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.

“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”

matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”

to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?

evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”

he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”

you locked your fingers together. “promise.”

after

it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.

which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 

before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.

“hey! what’s up?”

you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”

emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”

you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”

“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”

and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.

“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”

“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”

“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”

“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.

“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”

you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”

“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”

you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.

there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”

before

matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.

both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.

morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.

hence the party in the basement.

morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.

“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”

no one said a word.

you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.

“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”

the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”

thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.

you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.

but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”

“truth,” simone replied.

morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.

the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.

“truth or dare?” she asked.

you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.

“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.

a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.

“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.

morgan blinked. “what?”

it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”

she guffawed. “but you have to!”

matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”

“but you lose if you don’t!”

he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”

your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.

“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.

a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.

“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.

matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”

you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”

matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”

“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”

you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”

he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.

“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.

oh god. did he like simone?

your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.

you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”

he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”

now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”

matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”

“matt, what are you talking about?”

he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”

“know what?”

matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?

“matt what—”

“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.

you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.

matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”

“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”

“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”

you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”

“would you let me?”

words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.

but it was perfect.

after

you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.

most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.

it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.

unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.

but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?

you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.

it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.

“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”

and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.

the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.

“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”

you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”

taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.

you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”

taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”

your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”

taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“taryn...”

“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”

you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.

“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”

you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.

“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”

you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”

the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.

you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.

emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.

the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.

it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.

emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.

you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.

you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.

emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.

but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.

“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.

if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.

if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.

but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.

brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.

if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.

but it was too late now.

matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.

you felt like an idiot.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.

your hands were shaking again.

you shoved them in your pockets again.

matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.

“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.

you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”

matt scoffed. “not happening.”

out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”

matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”

“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.

brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”

you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.

and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.

you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.

but it wasn’t like that this time around.

you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.

the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.

you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.

you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.

except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.

you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.

you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.

brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.

a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.

you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.

in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.

his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.

you just—

couldn't.

matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.

you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.

before

you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.

matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.

the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.

“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 

“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”

“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.

moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.

you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.

“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.

matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.

matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”

you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.

all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.

“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.

you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.

“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.

you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”

matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”

you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.

matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.

you blinked, still smiling. “what?”

“you're not gonna say you love me back?”

you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”

matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”

and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”

and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.

matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.

“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.

“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”

matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”

“i love you so much.”

after

the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.

you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.

last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 

the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.

“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.

“rough weekend,” you grumbled.

frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”

you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.

“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”

you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”

“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”

there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.

“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”

you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.

“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”

“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”

you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.

“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”

frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.

you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.

but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.

not two minutes later.

not thirty minutes later.

not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.

not even on the drive home.

frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.

it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.

and now it was no one.

now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.

you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?

you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.

“hey.”

it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.

“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.

“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”

“good.”

matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”

“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”

“if you—”

“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?

matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”

the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 

“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”

“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”

“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”

“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”

you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.

one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.

and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.

there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.

you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.

so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.

you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.

“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.

your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”

“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”

a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”

before

“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.

you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”

“do you have any back up schools?”

you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”

ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”

“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.

ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”

“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”

your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”

“i want to be with matthew.”

ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”

“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”

ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”

after

you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.

it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.

and now it was saturday.

you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 

if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.

you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.

it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.

despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.

the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.

“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”

“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.

she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.

“how’s work going?”

you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”

simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”

“but are you passionate about what you do?”

she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”

you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.

“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”

it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.

simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”

you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”

simone whispered your name.

“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”

simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”

you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”

simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”

you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”

your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”

“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”

“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”

your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.

so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”

simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”

you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 

the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.

maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.

before

the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.

you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.

the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.

but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.

but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.

it was fine.

just high school.

you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.

but it wasn’t like that.

because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.

matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.

so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.

you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.

“please hold your applause until the end.”

you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.

your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.

as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.

“outside!” brady pointed.

you nodded.

as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.

a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.

when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”

matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”

“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 

“me too, baby.”

unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.

but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—

everything was perfect.

you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 

and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.

but you had no idea how the future would turn out.

you thought matt was forever.

after

you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.

you could do that, right?

just casual sex?

the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—

you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.

your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.

the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 

her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.

his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.

he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.

but maybe it was for the best.

you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.

“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”

“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”

you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.

which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.

you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.

“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”

oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?

but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.

you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.

“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”

“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.

simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”

“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.

“mostly acrylic.”

andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”

you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”

“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.

you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.

“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”

your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”

and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.

“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”

you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”

andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.

the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.

he, quite literally, left you in the cold.

andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”

you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”

andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”

your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.

you refused to be pathetic any longer.

which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.

before

you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.

and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.

because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.

tonight was different.

safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.

you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.

until tonight.

you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.

“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.

matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“you okay?” you asked.

he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”

the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.

but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.

normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.

“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.

“nothing,” he grunted.

“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”

“there’s nothing to help.”

“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”

“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.

your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.

matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.

matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.

a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.

a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.

his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.

“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”

“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.

you kept walking.

“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”

you kept walking.

a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.

gently, he turned you around.

“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.

you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?

he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”

you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”

with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”

“matthew, you know that’s not true—”

“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”

a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.

“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”

your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“i love you, matty.”

he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”

after

“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.

your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.

you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”

“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.

you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”

your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”

your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”

“alan, this will be good for her!”

but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”

“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.

but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

so was matthew.

you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”

the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 

but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.

andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.

and you hated yourself for it.

the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.

andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.

“hey,” he greeted.

you gave him a small smile. “hi.”

“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”

you shook your head. “not too bad.” 

c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.

“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—

“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”

you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”

andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”

you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.

you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.

your phone buzzed.

simone: 

how’s it going?

you smiled despite yourself. 

you:

he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.

you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.

you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.

“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.

you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”

“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”

your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.

you wanted to throw up.

instead, you chugged the drink.

“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.

you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”

he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.

and another.

and another.

your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.

matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.

but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.

your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.

“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”

but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.

then the panic set in.

it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.

“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 

“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.

“matt hey—”

brady. you were right, brady was here.

god you loved brady.

“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”

with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.

oh. your date.

there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.

you were gonna throw up.

or pass out.

you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—

“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.

your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.

were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—

oh god.

oh god.

“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”

did you?

but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.

maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.

“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.

“he—he was gonna—”

matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.

matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.

your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.

what a year tonight has been.

your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.

“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”

your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.

rock bottom.

you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.

“you okay?” he asked.

“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”

matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.

“baby i—”

“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”

“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”

maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”

“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”

“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”

matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.

and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?

you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.

“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”

brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”

matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”

your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”

he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”

you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”

[georgeclarkesgf]

forgetful | george clarke

the minute george stepped into the flat, he knew something was off.

"y/n? you here?" walking further into the flat, he found y/n in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea, "hey, sorry i'm back so late. we missed t-"

"don't. i can't believe you. all i asked was that you not plan to film today and i wake up to a message telling me you've gone to film a video for arthur. do you even know why i asked you to stay home today?"

he was trying to remember, really he was. but his mind was blank and the guilt began to seep in, only just noticing the tears that left stains on her cheeks.

"no. of course you don't. my parents are in town george. i planned a nice lunch, maybe go on a walk, come back to the flat for a few drinks, but all that went to shit because you left to film a stupid video and then ignored my messages all day. you know how important it is to me that you get along with my parents so having to cancel on them last minute because you weren't even here was not something i wanted to have to do." the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall again, hating how needy and pathetic she sounded.

"we can sti-" george tried, again quickly being shut down.

"no george, i'm mad at you. you don't get to say it'll be alright and that we can still do something. we're not playing happy families. you've hurt me. when we sort this out, then we organise something else."

now the guilt was in full swing and he immediately started to think of ways he could make it up to her, knowing it would take a lot of grovelling to get back onto her good side.

"i'm going to bed, i love you." a soft kiss being placed on his lips.

"i love you too." slight relief evident on his face, knowing she'll never not say 'i love you', even during an argument.

she rounded the kitchen island, starting to make her way to his room and get ready for bed. george watched as she closed the door, still stood in the kitchen, contemplating whether to follow her or give her some space.

he decided on the latter.

--------

it was nearing midnight when george decided he needed some sleep, and the dip in the bed as he got comfortable was enough to wake y/n, a groan leaving her lips.

"sorry. i didn't mean to wake you," she let out an agitated hum of acknowledgement and rolled over, curling into george's side, unable to resist the heat his body always provided, "still mad at me?"

"yep." she responded, accentuating the 'p'.

"okay. can we talk about it?"

"i've said my peace. you go."

"i really am sorry sweetheart, i feel awful," her nails were running along the lines and dips of his stomach, a habit he'd grown accustomed to over the several months they'd been together, "the video was planned ages ago and i didn't even realise the dates clashed. when you reminded me of 'that thing' that was happening today i thought you meant filming. i promise to make it up to you. and your parents. please say they don't hate me."

george hoped it was enough, not that he wouldn't do anything she asked to get her to forgive him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her staying mad at him.

in y/n's head, he was forgiven. during her time alone, she realised she didn't even give him a chance to explain before locking herself in his room for the rest of the night.

"i'm sorry too," george was slightly taken aback by this, unsure what she was apologising for, "i shouldn't have stormed off like that. not even letting you speak before i disappeared all night. and my parents don't hate you. we can do dinner tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"that's more than okay. i have my whole day free to spend with you and them. we can do whatever you guys want. i love you."

"i love you. so much. even if you are forgetful."

and george stuck to his promise. safe to say y/n's parents like george more than her.

a/n have this as an 'i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while present' <3

[howlett-variants]

"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons. 

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end. 

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck. 

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea. 

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face. 

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes. 

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression. 

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head. 

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not. 

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece. 

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms. 

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you. 

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands. 

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off. 

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment. 

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word. 

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound. 

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort. 

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side. 

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago. 

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours. 

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company. 

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.  

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

[bellaxgiornata]

In Search of Solace 1|: Breaking Down

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x baker!Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.3k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; depiction of seizures, depression, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, slow burn, smut

Summary: When Birdy witnesses him at his most vulnerable, Mikey finally loses it. After unloading the truth about how he can no longer continue down this path, Birdy promises to help him relocate to a town in the U.S. near Anna's new university–far away from the Kinsellas. But while Michael grapples with the man his family forced him to become, struggling to find peace in his new life, he's surprised when he finds his solace in you and your strange dog.

a/n: I've been sitting on this first part for months and finally decided to post it!! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @loves0phelia @sleepysleepymom

Michael shuffled his way carefully down the edge of the road between both drives, one hand braced against the cool stone of the fence that separated his house from what once had been Jimmy and Amanda’s house–though Jimmy had now long since moved out. He walked slowly, placing each foot deliberately in front of the other as he moved along the darkened street. The rough stone scratched against the palm of his hand as he rounded the corner of the fence, the sharp texture of it helping to keep him semi-alert as he tried not to lose his footing. 

Tonight had not remotely gone well. Michael had needed to leave the family meeting early, unable to sit through anymore of the arguing that had erupted between Jimmy and Amanda before that feeling had hit him. That unfortunately familiar feeling which he absolutely loathed and had no control over. A feeling he was grudgingly growing used to the more he experienced it.

Vision blurring as he began to make his way up his own drive, he watched as his front door swam in his sight, becoming nothing but a haze of shapes and color. Michael stuck a hand into his jacket pocket, his fingers feeling around for his house keys as he tried to hurry his pace, all of his senses steadily beginning to weaken with each step. A tremor had started in his right hand as he began to frantically grab at the keyring in his pocket, but his twitching fingers made it difficult for him to just grab the damn thing and pull it out of his jacket.

All he wanted right now was to make it inside his house before he collapsed on the pavement and had a seizure out in the open for anyone leaving the meeting next door to see. Besides Amanda having accidentally stumbled on him like this once quite a while back, no one else in his family knew about his seizures–and he wanted to keep things that way. The last damn thing he needed was anyone to look at him with pity in their eyes, as if he was weak or some sort of embarrassment. Like he was less than the man they'd all come to expect him to be.

As he neared his door, he felt his heart palpitating, the hammering of it wracking his chest so hard it was impossible to ignore. A sheen of sweat dampened his brow despite the chill of the night, the corner of his mouth beginning to dip downwards as the muscle twitched in his cheek. He wasn’t going to make it inside this time, he could already tell by how loud the ringing in his ears had grown. 

This was all because the family meeting tonight had been an absolute disaster. Jimmy and Amanda couldn’t agree on a damn thing as usual. They'd done nothing but fight in front of everyone the whole time, and somehow Michael had once more been dragged into the middle of the entire situation between them. All because he’d been so fucking stupid as to seek comfort in Amanda after what had happened months back with Molly. 

He should have never slept with Amanda–any of the times he had–despite her and Jimmy splitting up. But he hadn’t truly thought things through at the time, he had just been desperate to feel like someone cared about him for once in his life. And for a brief bit that's what he was able to pretend with her, that she cared about him, but after a while he couldn't pretend that any longer. And he hadn’t truly realized just how difficult his undefined relationship with Amanda would make everything farther down the road. Because now everything felt like it had long since become too much for Michael. 

Which was why he was now left resting a shoulder against his front door, trying to hold himself upright as the buzzing noise grew to an unbearable level in his ears while everything in his line of sight blurred to indecipherable shapes and a mass of colors before his eyes. It had taken him quite a few tries, but he’d finally managed to remove the keys from out of his pocket after many careful attempts. Unfortunately with the rough and jerky movements of his now trembling arm, the keys inevitably slipped from his fingers as he removed his hand from his coat. He felt the little circle of metal slip from his fingers, but he was entirely incapable of reacting in time. The keyring began its inevitable descent to the ground as a rush of helplessness crashed into Michael.

He’d meant to let out a curse when he'd felt the keys slip from his fingertips, but he could barely move his mouth. He didn’t have control over his body anymore, a gargled noise vibrating in his throat instead of the curse he'd meant to release, but all he could hear was the incessant buzzing noise in his damn ears as it remained at an unbearable volume. Michael’s eyes began to close partially as his body slumped further against the wall. His legs were quickly going numb as his arm began to shake more violently at his side. Then his entire body began to drop, absolutely nothing working like he was desperately willing it to. As he collapsed to the ground, he thought he heard a voice, but whether it was close or distant was indistinguishable. Everything besides that goddamn buzzing in his ears sounded like it was coming to him from beneath the surface of water now.

Part of him knew that he was laying there on the ground just before his front door. Somewhere in his mind he was aware of that. But for how long he lay there feeling like he was sinking down to the bottom of the ocean floor was unknown to Michael. He hated whenever these seizures happened, each time more terrifying than the last. He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t really see anything as he lay there, either. It felt like an endless stretch of nothing that he was trapped inside, just hoping he’d somehow come back out of it, landing once more back into his body that he couldn't exactly feel at the moment. These seizures always felt like a waking nightmare to him.

After an undetermined length of time that felt like hours to Michael, the first thing he eventually became aware of was the pain in his back. It started off dull before it grew in intensity to something sharp and persistent. He must've fallen on it when he dropped to the ground and he found himself wondering what else he might’ve hurt this time with the way he'd fallen. After a few more seconds passed he realized his neck hurt, too. Though as more feeling gradually came back to him, he figured it was probably due to the angle his head must’ve landed in. 

Breaking through his thoughts as he steadily became aware of his body once more was the sound of a voice again. Gradually the ringing in his ears began to die down, but he swore he felt gentle hands on his face accompanying the voice. Blinking slowly and unevenly, Michael tried to focus his eyes on the mass of color swimming into view in front of himself, trying to make sense of what it was. Eventually the ringing in his ears dissipated as his vision gradually became less blurry. After some effort Michael was eventually able to realize who was there touching him and speaking to him.

“I'm right here with ya, Michael,” Birdy's panicked voice was saying. “Ya aren't alone, love. I've got ya. I'm here, Mikey.”

Michael opened his mouth, a garbled groan tumbling out of it. He heard Birdy immediately praise a higher power as her hands began running less frantically over his cheeks. The sight of her terrified face hovering just before his finally became clear, her blue eyes creased with worry as she studied his own face in return.

“Are ya alrigh’, pet?” Birdy asked him. 

Hesitantly Michael tried to push himself upright on shaky hands without answering, unsure if he even could properly speak yet. Embarrassment flooded him when Birdy's hands landed on his shoulders, carefully trying to help him into a sitting position before gently leaning his back against the front door behind him. He hadn't wanted anyone to find him like this.

“I saw ya run out of the meetin’ not lookin’ so grand,” Birdy explained, a hint of fear in her voice. “Followed after ya and saw ya just drop straight to the ground shakin’. What's goin’ on, pet? Is somethin’ wrong?”

Somehow a bitter breath of laughter passed his lips as Birdy lowered to sit on the pavement before him. Her dark brows only further drew together on her forehead at the noise, concern still clearly written on her features. 

“What isn’ wrong anymore, Birdy?” Michael shot, his words slurred together as he fought to make his tongue move.

“What d'ya mean, love?” she asked carefully.

Michael slowly shook his head, not wanting to elaborate any further. But with the way Birdy's eyes narrowed at him, he knew she wasn't about to drop it. Especially not after how she'd just found him.

“Talk to me, Michael,” she nearly demanded. “What's goin’ on with ya? What aren't ya tellin’ me?”

“Don't wanna talk ‘bout it, Birdy,” he warned, his tongue moving a little easier this time.

Birdy's lips thinned on her face, her eyes suddenly narrowing into a look of determination that Michael knew all too well. She wasn't letting this go. 

“Let's get ya inside, Mikey, pet,” she said, carefully wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders while her other hand snatched the keyring he had dropped from off the ground.“Then we're goin’ to talk ‘bout whatever is goin’ on with ya. And ya know I'm not takin’ silence as an answer.”

Michael sighed, struggling to rise up onto his feet even with Birdy's help. His body felt like lead, his limbs feeling heavier to move than usual. His mind still felt sluggish as he carefully rose to his feet, briefly swaying unsteadily on them while Birdy tried to support his weight and keep the pair of them from tumbling backwards. When he'd finally regained his balance, she shifted them closer to his front door before unlocking and opening it. 

Moving slow and cautious, she helped lead him over the threshold and inside his house. She paused briefly, closing the door with one hand behind them softly before awkwardly continuing to maneuver the pair of them down his narrow hall and towards the sitting room without bothering to remove either of their shoes. 

Once they'd reached his sofa, she lowered him down onto the cushions before sinking into the space beside him. Michael's eyes remained fixed on his hands in his lap, something like shame burning in his gut under her stare which he could feel boring into the side of his face. This was exactly what he'd hoped to avoid tonight when he'd left the meeting. That expression of pity he knew was on Birdy's face without even looking at her. He could just feel it.

“What was that, Michael?” she tried again, voice softer. “Outside when I found ya on the ground shakin’ like that?”

Gritting his teeth together, he kept his focus on his hands. If he didn't answer her, he feared that she might just go telling someone else in the family what had happened, and he absolutely didn't want that. So unfortunately now it felt like he didn't exactly have a choice but to tell her the truth.

“I have epilepsy,” he grudgingly confessed. “On occasion I have seizures.”

Birdy made a faint noise of surprise beside him, shifting further towards him on the sofa.

“Since when?” she asked. “I've practically raised ya since ya were a boy and I've never seen that happen before.”

Michael ran a hand over his forehead, his fingers running over the sweat that had accumulated on his brow not that long ago. “Started when I was in prison,” he admitted. “Gotten worse afterwards with the stress of everythin’.”

“Stress?” Birdy asked in confusion. “What stress? Ya always seemed fine when I saw ya, pet.”

Her words had caused something inside of him to abruptly snap, his carefully crafted calm having finally reached its limits after years of being stretched thin. He felt his anger rise straight to the surface as his head spun towards Birdy, noticing how her eyes grew wide in surprise and even fright at the expression on his face. 

“Ya thought I was fine?” Michael spat. “Are ya fuckin’ jokin’ me? I was released from prison to move straight back into the house where my wife died, Birdy!” He flung a hand sharply towards the fireplace across the room from them. “The goddamn hole from the bullet that killed her is still right fuckin’ there! Every goddamn time I come home it's always right there! Fuck, I was barely released from prison a few days before Jamie was killed! My own goddamn son!”

Birdy's eyes grew even wider, her body going stiff on the sofa beside him as she held her breath. But now that the words had started to come, he couldn't seem to get them to stop.

“Not a damned one o’ ya even thought to check in on me after he died right in front o' me,” he continued to rage on, feeling hot tears of grief and anger burning at his eyes. “He was mine, too, but none o’ ya gave a damn ‘bout how I felt! No,” he said, shaking his head roughly and ignoring the pain in it as he did. “All I was good for was clippin’ Jamie's killer for Amanda and Jimmy and puttin’ a damn target on all o’ our backs for doin’ it. And then Amanda still had the fuckin’ audacity to come at me after the fact ‘bout Jamie, makin’ me feel like an asshole for not openly claimin’ him as my son after all these years when she's the one who chose Jimmy over me to begin with! The hell else was I s'posed to do? Ruin my brother's fuckin’ marriage completely?”

Michael could feel the tears beginning to sneak their way out of the corner of his eyes, his fury fast giving way to that feeling he always had whenever he eventually made his way back home at night after a job. That feeling of resignation and defeat at the situation he felt trapped inside. The situation his family had somehow forced him into and had made his life. Something he'd never felt he'd had a choice in. Beside him, he noticed the expression on Birdy's face soften as she listened to him.

“All I wanted,” he continued, voice filled with far less fire, “was to come back home and have a relationship with Anna. I just wanted my daughter, Birdy. That's all. Just wanted a normal job and the chance to raise my girl. But the lot o’ ya couldn't even let me fuckin’ have that. No, ya needed me to keep doin’ yer dirty work. Pushin’ me into it and makin’ things fuckin’ worse for me and my chances at gettin’ Anna back. And don't–” he began, shaking his head again as warm tears spilled down his cheeks, “–don't get me started on Bren and all the shit that happened when he was released. Shoulda fuckin’ killed him myself the day he was let outta prison. He wasn't much of a father to begin with and he should've never gone near Anna.”

“Yer right,” Birdy quietly agreed. “He shouldn't have.”

Hesitantly she reached a hand out, lightly grasping one of Michael’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes dropped down to their joined hands, a frown pulling his lips downwards. 

“I didn't know ya felt this way,” she continued softly. “I'm sorry, love. I–I should've known. Ya just always seemed so put together, I never realized ya weren't doin’ alright.”

“Used to use the gear and booze to handle it all,” he admitted quietly. “That's what I did before. To deal with the stress of everythin’. But those all trigger the seizures now.”

Michael's face twisted in pain and he quickly ducked his head, trying to hide from Birdy. Her arms were soon wrapping around his shoulders though, pulling him in towards herself. Hands rising up, he soon buried his face in them, his teeth clamping down so hard on his bottom lip to muffle the sound of a distressed sob that he almost drew blood.

“This isn’ what ya want, is it, Michael?” she asked gently. “This life?”

“No,” he choked out, shaking his head from its place buried in his hands. “No, I hate it. I hate everythin’ ‘bout it. I can’t–can’t keep doin’ it anymore. The killin’ and the drug pushin’. Worryin’ if things I do are goin’ to land back on Anna. If I'm goin’ to get her killed just like–just like her mother.”

Birdy sighed, one of her hands beginning to soothingly rub Michael’s back as he exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. The moment felt oddly reminiscent of the times she used to comfort him when he was a kid and he'd come to her with something Bren had done. 

“Ya need to get out, sounds like,” she murmured. 

A bitter laugh broke out between Michael's tears. Pulling his face from out of his hands, he glanced up at Birdy beside him, a dark, mirthless smile on his mouth.

“That'll never happen and ya know it, Birdy,” he told her. “They'd never let me just walk away.”

Birdy's eyes hardened as she held his gaze, her lips thinning along her face. “I helped yer mother and sister get away from Bren, didn't I?” she reminded him. “Ya don't think I can handle the others? Get them to leave ya outta all this?”

“That was different,” Michael pointed out, shaking his head. “They rely on me too much. Need me too much.”

“They can rely on someone else then,” Birdy stated sharply. “Because if ya want out, Mikey, I swear to ya I can get ya out before the end o’ the week. Ya hear me? I'll get ya out if that's what ya want.” Her expression softened, something like guilt flashing in her eyes. “Maybe I should've gotten Jimmy and ya out years ago ‘stead of selfishly keeping the both o’ ya here.”

Hope sparked in Michael's chest at her offer, the hope of a way out of this life that he'd never had a say in to begin with. The life that was breaking him down to nothing, slowly killing him from the inside out with all the shame and guilt and pain and disgust he buried deep down inside of himself and pretended wasn't there.

A small, sad smile reached his lips as he focused on Birdy beside him. Her hand was still comfortingly rubbing his back, a small smile forming on her mouth.

“Ya would do that for me?” he asked, almost too afraid to believe it was possible.

Birdy's hand on his back patted him firmly, a fiercely determined look in her eyes. “I'll get Anna and ya both outta here, Mikey. Just leave the Kinsellas to me,” she answered. “I'll deal with the lot o’ them. Then ya can go make yer own life for once, Mikey, love. Whatever ya want it to be. If that's what ya'd like. Far, far from here.” 

A small, watery smile slipped across Michael's lips. He nodded gently in response. “I'd like that,” he confessed softly. “I'd like that a lot.”

[pinkeoni]

Will & Billy: The Child and the Shadow

I recently read a book of essays from sci-fi and fantasy writer, Ursula K. Le Guin. Her essay "The Child and the Shadow" opens with a recount of a short story by Hans Christian Anderson, in which a man physically separates himself from his shadow. To keep a short story even shorter, neither the man nor his shadow is able to live a fulfilling life without the other. They need each other, both the light and the shadow, to be whole.

In season 2, the same season where Will is being haunted by a mysterious shadow, we are introduced to another William: Billy.

Will and Billy never have any meaningful interactions, or any real interactions at all, yet their stories are given so many interest similarities that are hard to ignore. They both come form abusive fathers, they both fell into possession by Vecna/the Mind Flayer, and of course, they both share the same name.

I think that, at least on a subconscious level, Will and Billy are meant to serve as two halves of one whole William. The light and dark. The child and the shadow.

Despite their similarities, Billy and Will are noticeably much different people. Will is kind and sensitive, but we've also seen how he often lets people walk all over him and withholds his feelings from others. Billy is confident and outgoing, but he's also aggressive and abusive.

I think the biggest difference between Will and Billy is their individual sexuality, and how those affect both how they act and how they are perceived. Will is ostracized from the towns people and referred to as Zombie Boy, which I've explained in a separate post how this ties into the eighties small town homophobia. Will is also sexually repressed, not being able to or allowing himself to display any of these desires. Billy is well received by the town from the get go, and wears his sexuality on his sleeve. We get a line from Max in season 3 indicating that Billy has frequent sexual encounters.

But his desire and selfishness is also what leads him to his demise. Billy is possessed while on his way to a steamy encounter with Mrs. Wheeler, a woman he knows is married. While this affair isn't necessarily a direct cause for his possession, I do think it's meant to be a consequence for his actions.

Will's problem in season 2 has to do with his emotional repression, he isn't able to tell his mother about the Mind Flayer until it's too late. And while I think that his possession might have been inevitable even if he had told her, what ends up freeing Will in the end is his family (and Nancy).

Le Guin uses both Jungian philosophy and Taoist beliefs to explain this idea of light and shadow, and how it applies to fiction. She explains that the journey of the hero is not dictated purely by light, but by the discovery of both.

"The only way for a youngster to get past the paralyzing self-blame and self-disgust of this stage is really go look at that shadow, to face it, warts and fangs and pimples and claws and all—to accept it as himself—as part of himself. The ugliest part, but not the weakest. For the shadow is the guide. The guide inward and out again; downward and up again; there, as Bilbo the Hobbit said, and back again. The guide of the journey to self-knowledge, to adulthood, to the light."

In keeping with Le Guin's Taoist beliefs, I believe that Will and Billy are meant to be these two halves of Yin and Yang. Will, the light, and Billy, the dark. But the two halves stand alone, unable to be whole. I wish that the show could have given us interactions between Will and Billy, especially in season 3. I think that their similar histories could have lead to interesting conversations.

Billy's darkness ultimately leads to his demise. He is maybe able to see the light at the very end, but it's too late, and the consequence of Billy's exploits ends in his death, where he is quite literally killed by the shadow itself.

I'm not saying that Will is going to die (at least not permanently, but that's a post for another day) but I do think that this ending for Billy is meant to show where Will's story could go, if he does not look inward and accept his own inner darkness. We see a little bit of this in season 2 before it is evaded— Will could be consumed by shadow until it eventually kills him.

So I think that this is where Will's story is going in season 5. In order for him to come-of-age, he is going to have to do what Billy couldn't, and become whole. I think for Will's story that means confronting own desires, and overcoming the shame that comes with it. He needs to turn inward and face the darkness inside of himself, before coming back to the light.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 12

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 2349

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes, SMAU (not always), smut, violence

Recap:

You step out of the car, your voice trembling with emotion, a sense of numbness washes over you. "I-I can't do this right now…" you murmur, your words barely audible.

"Y/n! Wait!" Megumi's desperate shout echoes in the air.

"Y/n…?" Megumi's voice softens as he steps out of the car, searching frantically for any sign of you. Panic sets in as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

MEGUMI'S POV:

What the fuck?

Where the fuck could she have gone that fast?

Megumi's panic escalates as he realizes that there's no plausible way you could have disappeared so quickly without a trace. Frantically, he searches the surrounding area, driving through the town in a desperate attempt to find you. With each passing moment, his worry intensifies, his mind consumed by the fear of what might have happened to you.

Unable to locate you, Megumi's anxiety reaches a boiling point. He decides to return home, his heart racing as he bursts through the front door. As he enters the house, he's met with the sight of his friends gathered in the living room, preparing to eat breakfast.

His breaths come in shallow gasps as he struggles to compose himself, the weight of his concern evident in his frantic gaze.

"Where are you coming fr—" Maki starts, but Megumi cuts her off before she can finish.

"Have any of you seen Y/n?" he blurts out, his voice tinged with urgency as he paces back and forth.

His friends exchange concerned glances as they take in Megumi's distressed demeanor.

"Y/n? Isn't she asleep in your room or something?" Yuta asks.

"I thought she was with you?!" Itadori's voice carries a mix of confusion and frustration, his eyes narrowing as he searches Megumi's face for answers.

Megumi runs a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. "She was but then she… She just disappeared."

His friends' expressions shift from confusion to worried as they absorb his words. "Disappeared? What do you mean?" Nobara questions.

Megumi shakes his head, his heart sinking with each passing moment of uncertainty. "I don't know… One minute she was there, and the next she was gone. I've been searching everywhere, but I can't find her."

"Megumi, what the hell are you talking about? It's like 7 in the morning. Where the hell would Y/n be? Where did you two go?" Nobara questions, her tone sharp with concern.

She glances over at Megumi and notices how he's staring at Itadori, so she turns to Itadori and fixes her gaze on him. "Itadori, you know something we don't?"

"Uh, no… Haha, what makes you think that?" Itadori says, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"You're really bad at lying, you know that, right?"

"No, seriously, this isn't the time for jokes. What the hell is going on?" Maki says.

"Uh… well, you see, Megumi had to… you know, work?" Itadori stammers out. Megumi just rolls his eyes and adds, "I had to get shit done for Toji."

"What the fuck, Megumi? I thought you said you were done with that shit!" Nobara shouts, clearly frustrated.

"No, seriously, Megumi, why the hell are you working for your shitty dad?" Maki demands.

"Not my fucking dad."

"Well, whatever, you get what I mean."

"Wait, what does Y/n have to do with that anyway?" Inumaki asks.

"Uh, she kinda followed him… I tried to stop her, but she managed to get your keys and, well, took off before I could process what's going on. I chased her down in my car but lost her at the last minute," Itadori explains, his voice tinged with guilt.

"This isn't fucking important right now! We don't know where she is, and she could be seriously hurt! I don't know what the hell to do!" Megumi's voice raises, a mix of frustration and concern colouring his words.

"Wait, I have her location. Let me check." Toge says calmly as he opens his phone to check.

Megumi's heart races with anticipation as he rushes beside Toge, his eyes fixed on the screen of your friend's phone. With bated breath, he waits for the location to load, his stomach churning with anxiety.

After a tense moment, the screen displays a map pinpointing a general area. "Here," Toge announces, pointing to a spot on the map. "She's in this area."

Without a second thought, Megumi quickly rushes back to the door before his friends can even get up from their seats.

"Wait, we're all coming too!" Nobara shouts as they head out the door and follow Megumi. Megumi hops into his SUV, a seven-seater, and everyone else gets in too. Inumaki takes the passenger seat, his phone opened to the map to direct them to your location.

Y/N'S POV:

As you slowly open your eyes, you take in your surroundings, quickly realizing that you're not familiar with the area you're in. A single dim light hangs above you, casting a feeble glow on the dirty, messy space you find yourself in. The floors are dirt-covered, the walls look ancient, like you're in some sort of abandoned place.

Where the hell am I?

A sense of disorientation creeping in.

Am I dreaming?

But before you can process it further, a sudden pounding in your head jolts you back to reality.

Okay, definitely not dreaming…

You then feel something tight around your wrist, prompting you to turn your head slightly and peer down... but everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and like it's almost blurry...?

Fuck… What the fuck? What the fuck! The thought sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle to make sense of your situation.

Panic surges through you as you realize the tightness around your wrist is indeed a rope.

Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK! AM I FUCKING KIDNAPPED?

Your heart races, and a cold sweat breaks out on your skin as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

No, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be fucking happening! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Your heart pounds louder as you hear someone approaching, but the dim lighting and the haze in your mind make it impossible to discern their identity. Everything feels blurry, as if you're looking through fog, and even lifting your head feels like an insurmountable task...

That's until you hear their voice…

"Missed me, sweetheart?"

Haruta.

He moves in closer, his hand reaching for your chin to lift your head, and he smirks as he takes in your half-lidded eyes and constricted pupils. You try to speak, to say something, anything, but no words come out…

He chuckles at your expression before quickly withdrawing his hand, causing your head to fall back down, too heavy to hold up. "Already feeling it, aren't you?" he remarks with a hint of amusement.

You attempt to look up at him, managing to lift your head slightly and scrunching your eyebrows in confusion, but everything feels strange. Your movements, everything—it just feels off. He looks at you and chuckles again. "What's with that face?" he teases, noticing your expression.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" you mumble, your words slurred.

"What was that? Couldn't hear ya," your ex says teasingly.

"I said, what the fuck did you do to me, Haruta?" This time, you manage to speak more clearly, the frustration evident in your voice.

"Isn't it obvious? What I always wanted to do!" he laughs, his amusement ringing through the air. He moves closer, grabbing a chair from a corner and placing it right in front of you. Taking a seat, he reaches for your face again, but this time his grip is aggressive. "Make you take heavier drugs," he smirks, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck do you want from me?" you say again, this time more aggressively. "Oh, come on, sweetheart, don't be like that," he says, his hand moving higher up your thigh.

Is he about to—

You panic, not knowing what to do, so you spit on him. "Don't fucking touch me! You fucking disgust me!" you shout, your voice filled with anger and disgust. "Let me go!" You begin to shout even louder, struggling against the restraints of the chair, desperately trying to break free from his grip.

But his grip tightens around your face, and he quickly turns your head to face him again as he rises from his chair. "You fucking bitch! Don't try that shit again, or I swear to God, I'll fucking kill you," he snarls, his voice laced with venom as he looms over you.

He moves his other hand to your throat, tightening his grip until you gasp for air, but you can't do anything to stop him. "Fuck you!" you manage to choke out, defiance burning in your eyes. "I fucking hate you Haruta."

This is it.

This is how I'm going out…

There's no point in fighting anymore…

But suddenly, he lets go of your throat, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving as you start coughing. "This isn't how I wanted to kill you, Y/n," he says, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Why are you doing this?" you manage to say between coughs and gasps for air.

"Why now?"

"Oh, Y/n, I've always wanted to do this," he says, laughing as he grabs a needle and flicks it with his finger.

"What… What do you mean…" you stammer, fear creeping into your voice as you watch him with wide eyes.

"Don't be stupid. You really think I dated you because I loved you?" he sneers, his words cutting through you like knives. You freeze, feeling a mix of confusion, loss, and hurt wash over you.

"Oh god, you really did think that," he laughs, the sound echoing with cruelty. "Pathetic."

Your heart sinks as the truth of his words sinks in, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.

"I only dated you to get close to you, Y/n… Close so I could kill you," he admits coldly, the words like a dagger to your heart. "How do you think people would react if my clan murdered the daughter of the L/N family? We'd be the most powerful clan in the world."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you say, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "Why didn't you kill me then, huh? Why after almost a fucking year of being together, why now?"

"I tried. I tried to fucking give you this shit," he says, looking down at the syringe in his hand before locking eyes with you once more.

"Just two milligrams of this can cause death, and you already have one injected, what's one more, right?" he says, his laughter filled with malice and cruelty.

He steps closer to you, and you frantically try to get out of the rope that's tied around your wrists.

"Please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, desperation evident in your eyes.

"Please,"

"Don't do this. I—I'll do anything, just please let me go."

But he only chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "It's too late for that now, sweetheart," he sneers, advancing closer until you can feel his breath on your face.

You whimper as he comes closer, feeling utterly helpless in his presence. "Please, I don't want to die," you plead, tears welling up in your eyes.

As he looms over you, your heart races with terror, and you struggle against the ropes binding you, but it's futile. Tears stream down your cheeks as you realize the gravity of the situation.

"Please," you whisper one last time, your voice barely audible.

But he simply raises the syringe, his face contorted into a twisted grin. "Goodbye, sweetheart," he says, before plunging the needle into your skin.

You feel the sharp sting of the needle as it pierces your skin, followed by a rush of cold dread as the lethal substance begins to course through your veins. Your vision blurs, and the world around you fades into darkness as unconsciousness claims you.

In the depths of your fading consciousness, you can only pray for a miracle, for someone to save you from this nightmare. But as darkness envelops you completely, you realize that there will be no rescue, no salvation—only the cold embrace of death.

MEGUMI'S POV

"What building is she in? Where does it show?" Megumi demands, his voice tense with urgency. Inumaki quickly checks his screen, scanning the buildings in front of them. "The first one to your left," he says, his voice tight with worry.

Without hesitation, they all rush into the building, their hearts pounding with fear and determination. Frantically, they search every corner, calling out your name until they hear laughter echoing in the distance.

"Fuck," Megumi breathes out, his worst fears realized. They follow the sound of laughter and finally spot Haruta, standing over you with a sinister grin. Horror washes over them as they see you tied up against a chair, your form slumped and barely conscious.

They all gasp in horror as they take in the sight before them, Megumi's fists clenching with rage and desperation.

"What the fuck did you do, Haruta?" His voice is low and dangerous, his eyes blazing with fury.

But Haruta only grins wider, reveling in their anguish.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?" Megumi's voice trembles with anger and fear, his hands shaking with adrenaline.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Megumi's voice echoes with raw fury as he rushes forward, his hands closing around Haruta's throat with a vice-like grip. Itadori and Inumaki react quickly, rushing over to restrain Megumi and pull him off of Haruta, preventing him from carrying out his threat.

"Megumi, stop! Gojo will be here, he's gonna handle this," Itadori urges, his voice urgent.

Nobara and the others work to untie you from the chair. With their combined efforts, you are freed from your bonds, though you remained unconscious.

As Megumi backs off, his gaze shifts to you, his concern evident in his eyes.

Megumi rushes over to you, his heart pounding with fear and desperation as he kneels beside you, gathering you into his arms. "Fuck… Y/n, wake up! WAKE UP, please," he pleads, his voice trembling with emotion. Tears well up in his eyes as he gazes down at your still form, his hands gently stroking your cheek.

"Please, angel…" he whispers, his voice choked with emotion, as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

im so sorry this took so long to finish and im sorry that its kinda short...

also im sorry that this is kinda dark....

OK NO MORE SORRYS

also this might be shit? might not be... idek how i feel abt it...

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo @hazedganyu

[joelmillers-whore]

I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

summary: it has been a month since your injury, of taking it slow, and helping your father out more. and you’re sick of it. ever since you fully recovered you saw less and less of joel. actually, both miller brothers seem to be avoiding you and you’re determined to find out why. 

pairing: joel miller x reader, tommy & reader (platonic) 

word count: 3.5K 

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, cock-blocker tommy, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, slight angst, joel avoiding his feelings, ends on a cliffhanger (sorry not sorry) 

A/N: got a little carried away. again. i am so thrilled that ya’ll wanted another part of this. i was hoping that you would because i had so much fun writing it. so, here we go. i was kind of going for more background on the whole dynamic between reader and joel and reader and tommy. it’s not super joel x reader heavy but i think i’m going to do anther part and explore their relationship more. let me know what ya’ll think of this part, i would love to hear some feedback or some ideas for other parts. thank you &lt;3

read the prequel here

Spring was officially on the way. Every time you stepped outside, you spotted a new sign that Mother Nature was giving you. Like last week, in the middle of your daily walk around town, you’d stopped and looked down, seeing a patch of half-frozen grass at your feet, the beginnings of vibrant green peeking out of the snow.

For as much as you couldn't wait until it was spring, there was still more winter to be had. A crisp chill still clung to the air, which made you wrap your worn sheep-wool jacket tighter around your body. 

You unlatched the bar of wood that was slotted in place across the solid, wooden door of the church, pushing the doors open and taking a deep breath when the air hit your lungs. You’d been breathing in stale air the whole day, so this was a welcome relief.

You took a step back, taking in the view of the town from your elevated advantage. Your eyes snagged on the clinic across the street, reminding you that it hadn’t been that long since you’d been back home. 

You snapped your eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories, the screaming, the pain. Your heartbeat was erratic, your breathing coming out harsher as your mind assaulted you with images that you’d tried hard to forget.

It was like you had been transported back in time and you felt weak, unable to protect yourself from the looming threat. You clenched your teeth, making your jaw ache. You’re safe. You’re not in that cabin anymore. You’re home. 

You never wanted to feel that helpless again, and you were determined not to, if anyone ever let you out of your gilded cage. Tommy and your father had taken it upon themselves to make every decision regarding your safety without consulting the one person that it would affect the most; you. It was driving you to the edge of madness. 

They were always keeping an eye on you, making sure that at least one of them was with you at all times. You’d made one mistake, one small fucking mistake, and now you were paying for it. As if the scar above your belly button wasn’t enough proof. 

Tommy had restricted your duties and practically barred you from going out on patrol, in no uncertain terms. And your father had been all too happy to jump at the opportunity, insisting that you could be of more use to him and the community if you helped out around the church.

He was obvious in how he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and one day take over as minister of the church, but that was the last thing that you wanted.

You wanted freedom, something different, more adventure. Not being chained to a pulpit for the rest of your life, however long that might be. But your father was the only family you had left, ever since the end of the world. It had been you and him, and you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least try to make an effort. You and your father had come a long way since arriving in town. 

You could remember the day vividly when Tommy had found you both just outside of Jackson, starving, bloody, and bruised. He had asked what either of you could bring to their community, in terms of skills. You had been surprised when he’d accepted you, your father’s only skill being that he was a minister before the outbreak.

But Tommy, being Tommy had seen past that. Seen past the lack of skills and past the teenager who was afraid of her own shadow. 

Aside from giving the folks of Jackson a distraction, some way to rationalize the direction the world was heading, you both couldn’t be much use to them. The old man and the kid. But again, the people of Jackson had surprised you, making you feel welcome quickly. It wasn’t for free, while you found your footing, you had also done your part to help out around town. 

Even at sixteen, Tommy and Maria had treated you better than some of the adults in town had a first. You were someone, even back then, who wasn’t trusting when it came to new people. You’d had your guard up at all times, starting fights with other kids your age until Tommy had stepped in.

He had taken you under his wing, not pushing you to open up, but more so guided you and gave you the space so that in your own time you came around. He’s nurtured you and taught you useful skills; mainly how to hold and shoot a gun. 

It wasn’t long before you were tagging along on patrol, Tommy claiming that you were a natural, and slowly building up the courage to leave town on your own, or with your own patrol partner. He had built you up from a volatile kid who could barely throw a punch, to someone who could take down a fully grown man in under two minutes. 

You couldn’t give him all the credit though, you’d worked your ass off, turning yourself into a human weapon. Refined and deadly. There wasn’t a day that went by when you didn’t think about how grateful you were that he had taken a chance on you and your father. 

Years had passed since you had first arrived in Jackson, but those lessons that Tommy had instilled in you still remained. A hoarse voice called your name, pulling you from your reminiscent thoughts, and making you turn toward it. It was your father. He was walking toward you, the slight limp on his right side more prominent now than it had been back then. 

Your face dropped as he approached, emotion bubbling in your throat when you looked at him. His skin was almost translucent, pale when the light hit it. And the colour of his eyes dulled as each year came and went, the weathered crinkles on the edges deepening whenever he smiled or laughed.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking him in, hoping to save a mental snapshot of him while he was still here. 

Realistically, you knew that he didn’t have much time left, but the unrealistic part of yourself, the part that wanted him to last forever, ignored the realism and gave him a smile. No matter how many times you told him to take it easy, and remind him that he wasn’t fifty anymore, he wouldn’t hear it.

He’d brush you off and mumble something about how age was just a number. He didn’t want you to worry about him, he’d said. And you would drop it, carrying on like nothing was wrong. 

As your father approached you, he gripped the back of a pew, putting all of his weight onto it as if it was a struggle to stand. Your eyes dipped to his hand, but his voice brought you back. 

“Everything okay?”, he asked. 

You exhaled an annoyed puff of air. If there was a running tally of how many times in the past month your father asked you how you were, it would probably venture in the thousands. He was being overprotective and it was getting on your last nerve.

You appreciated that he cared about you but at a certain point, it was too much. Between both him and Tommy, you were one more question away from ripping your hair out. 

“Fine”, you replied, snippily. You cleared your throat harshly, your telltale sign that you wanted to move on from the topic of conversation. 

Your father’s face softened, noticing how you were folding in on yourself, avoiding his eyes, making yourself almost invisible. You were uncomfortable. 

“You seen Tommy today?”, he asked, changing the subject. 

You shook your head, surprisingly, you hadn’t. Which wasn’t out of the norm, Tommy was a busy guy and you understood the shift in his priorities as the community continued to grow. But lately, he had been checking in on you more and more, even since you’d gotten injured while on patrol. 

You sighed, letting yourself think back to what had transpired after Joel had gotten you back to Jackson. Joel. You could still feel the ghost of his deft fingers trailing your arms, the contrast of his callouses and the softness of his touch as he held you close to your body, cradling you like you were something precious.

Your mind had blocked out a lot from the incident, preventing you from remembering key details. But you remembered Joel. 

You remembered his strong arms helping you onto his horse, or the way that his lips melded with yours as you kissed him in the clinic. You brought two fingers to your lips, trying to memorialize how it felt to finally kiss Joel. His gruff voice echoed in your mind, constantly on a loop of we’re almost home and hold on a little longer and don’t give up yet, darlin’.

Somehow, through the delirious fog, it had been his voice that broke through and it was the one thing that had tethered you to this world, not letting you leave just yet. 

That had been the bulk of what you remembered, aside from the searing pain in your stomach from the stab wound. You could thank those fucking raiders for that one.

To your surprise, it hadn’t taken all that long for the wound itself to heal, the patch of skin now only an ugly and scarred reminder of how you couldn’t ever have your guard down like that again. 

According to the doctor, Joel had gotten you back to Jackson just in time. He had said that if he had waited longer you probably wouldn’t have made it. You hadn’t been prepared to hear that, to hear that you had been that close to death.

Before you’d had a chance to spiral after hearing that cheery news, Joel had returned to his side. Stoic as ever. You’d smelled him before you had seen him, his familiar musk invading your senses wholly and completely. 

You had spotted him almost immediately, meeting his huge brown eyes that, to your surprise, had already been on you. You’d been harbouring a crush on Joel for the better part of a year, Tommy insisting that you become his new patrol partner recently hadn’t helped much in quelling it either. 

You’d thought that things had progressed with Joel, you’d broken through his hard exterior to the point that he now laughed at your jokes, cracking some of his own in return, and he seemed like he enjoyed your company enough when you were alone for long stretches of silence during patrol. 

But now, a month after your injury, when you had kissed him and he had kissed you back, he seemed as distant as when you had first partnered up with him. And it was eating at you. You thought you had been on the same page, but clearly, you hadn’t been.

Your stomach twisted into knots when you thought about it. You couldn’t help thinking that you had fucked everything up between you. 

Maybe he had just been nice, kissing you back, telling you that it had been okay, comforting you. Maybe you were reading into a simple kiss between friends.

But why then would he tell you that he wanted to kiss you? Ever since the doctor had released you, you hadn’t seen Joel around. Keeping in line with the he-was-avoiding-you train of thought. 

You and Joel were friends, even though he would never admit it out loud, and you needed to confront him. If only for your own piece of mind. Your father called your name again. 

“Sorry”, you mumbled, “Did you say something?”. 

“All I said was that you should go take a walk around town, get some air”. 

Your brows furrowed. He had been keeping a close eye on you for weeks, and now suddenly he was suggesting that you take a walk, alone. Was he trying to get rid of you? 

“Why?”, you asked, skepticism lining your tone.   

“You’ve been attached to my hip all day, girl. Maybe go down to the market, find us something for dinner”, he paused, rubbing his chin, “Or go find Tommy”. 

And there it was. If wasn’t him keeping an eye on you, it was Tommy. You crossed your arms over your chest. An idea sparked as you thought more about your walk. 

“Fine”, you started, leaning forward and pecking his cheek. “Be back soon”. 

“Don’t rush”, your father called out as you crossed the church threshold. 

You had been walking around town for about ten minutes, casting a tight-lined smile at anyone you passed. Your cheeks were numb, the harsh winter wind nipping at them as you continued walking through town, passing by the Tipsy Bison. You stopped in your tracks.

Would it be weird if you happened to stop by Joel’s house? 

You bit your bottom lip, rolling it between your teeth. You debated the idea for all of a minute before you changed your direction, pushing the self-doubt aside as you made your way to Joel’s house. Before you knew it, you were on his front porch, inches from his door.

You were about to knock when your fist froze midway, you were hesitating. What if Joel didn’t want to see you? What if he was avoiding you for a reason? 

You began to step back, your foot finding the first step, backing away slowly. Suddenly, the door whipped open and you were knocked off balance from seeing Joel, literally. You fell back, over the steps and landed on your back in the cold snow. 

“Shit”, Joel mumbled, rushing toward you. 

Your face was burning from embarrassment as Joel kneeled down beside you. You chuckled awkwardly, propping yourself up on your elbow. His hand rested on your knee, the sensation causing an unexpected jolt in your body. 

Joel’s grip on your knee tightened ever so slightly, but he didn’t look away from your face, concentrating solely on you. 

He let out a steady puff of air, “You okay?”. 

You let your head fall back, chuckling humourlessly. God, could anyone ask you anything different? 

You looked back at Joel, who was staring at you peculiarly, his eyes squinting. 

“Peachy”, you responded, an edge to your voice. 

Joel straightened, extending a hand to you. But you ignored it, getting to your feet without his help. He took a step back from you, doing so almost cautiously.

His broad frame towered over you, watching your every move as you dusted the snow off of yourself. Joel’s hands were now stuffed inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes boring into you. 

“You sure?”, he asked. 

You took a step forward so that you were a breath away from him. Your chest grazed his, and his breathing stuttered, the air around you suddenly thick and charged. His chest was solid and firm, your mind running rampant with the memory of it pressed against your body. You could see the way his jaw ticked as he looked down at you, the pressure looking like it could shatter his teeth at any minute. 

You felt the heat of his stare, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, your irritation too fresh to be stamped out by one heady look from him. 

“Why do you care? Not like you’ve bothered to check up on me lately”. 

Joel’s face fell and you instantly regretted your words. He didn’t deserve that and you didn’t know why you were lashing out at him. 

“I know. ‘M sorry”, he said, his voice strained. 

You finally met his face, those big, brown eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place, something that resembled sadness. Or regret. 

“Then why did you stay away?”. 

He swallowed thickly and you watched his Adam’s apple bob, an unsure look on his face. His one hand went to the back of his head, rubbing nervously. Joel Miller was nervous and that made you smirk, you doubted anything made him nervous. 

“I didn’t want to”, he started, inching closer to you, in hands flying to your hips. A tiny gasp left you at the contact, the skin underneath his hand burning, even though you were wearing three layers. “But I wanted to give you some space”. 

A beat lingered between you before you spoke. “I don’t want any more space”. 

Joel groaned, his eyes snapping shut as you let your hand drift to his beard, the scratchiness making your fingertips tingle. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your lips closing in on his mouth. You wanted to kiss him, you needed to.

It felt like you had been deprived of oxygen this whole month, waiting for that moment when you could breathe again. 

Joel’s fingers grazed your chin, tilting your face closer to his. You could feel his hot breath fan your face, making you shiver in anticipation. 

“Joel!”, a loud, booming voice echoed from behind you both. 

He withdrew from you quickly, putting distance between the two of you. Your heart was in your throat, your nerves on fire, leaving you breathless once again. But it wasn’t in the way that you wanted. Disappointment filled you as Tommy came into view.

His eyes found yours momentarily before they settled on Joel, giving him a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.

He softened his features as he focused back on you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. 

“Hey, you”, you said. 

You smiled tightly at him, feeling the awkwardness flush your cheeks, “Hi”. 

“Mind if I steal her away?”, Tommy directed at Joel, who wordlessly shook his head, eyes on Tommy and not on you. 

You deflated further as Tommy led you away from his brother, and back into the heart of town. You looked back, watching the tail end of Joel disappearing back into his house.

You shrugged out of Tommy’s hold, watching as he put his hands in his pockets instead, not saying a word to you. 

“What do you need?”, you asked. 

He looked at you strangely before he connected the dots. 

“Oh, nothin’ really. Just thought I could walk you back home”. 

You gawked at him, stopping in your tracks as he continued on, not taking notice of how you had stopped. When he did notice, he looked back, confusion muddling his features. You arched a brow. 

“So, you just happened to stumble upon me when I was with Joel and decided I needed to be walked home?”, you asked, annoyance lacing every word. 

Tommy wasn’t one to beat around the bush. 

“What do you want me to say?”, he said, an exasperated sigh leaving him, his arms thrown up dramatically. 

“I want a straight answer, for starters”. 

He paused for a moment and you thought that he would blow you off, tell you that you were being a child and reading into things. But when he didn’t, you were surprised. 

“Honestly, I don’t think it's a good idea for you two to be spendin’ time together”, he started, taking a breath, “And from what I just saw, I don’t think your Daddy would take too kindly to the idea either”. 

Now your blood was boiling. Where did Tommy get off talking to you like that? Telling you who you could and couldn’t spend time with. You marched up to him, poking a finger into his chest. 

“I am an adult, Tommy. And contrary to popular belief, I can handle my own. So, I don’t think you should be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Because if you keep it up, we’re going to have some problems, Miller”. 

Tommy opened his mouth to say something but you were gone before he had the chance to say anything, stomping all the way back to your house, a cloud of anger and indignation burrowing in your gut. You pulled open your front door, seeing your father in his comfy chair by the fireplace. You mumbled a hello and locked yourself in your room. 

You were pacing, your feet wearing a hole in the hardwood. You stopped, an idea forming. A wicked, tempting fate idea. You dashed to your door, pausing a moment to listen for any indication of your father. The house was silent save for the usual groaning and creaking. 

Before you could change your mind, you pulled open your door, and sprinted out of the house and back toward Joel’s. You’d made it to the other side of town in record time, your chest heaving as you tried to level out your breathing. 

You pounded on his door, waiting for him to answer it. When he did, you swallowed thickly, eying the way his shirt was pulled tautly over his chest. You licked your lips subconsciously, not missing the way that Joel’s gaze dipped to them.  

“Can I come in?”, you asked, breathless. 

Joel hesitated, hand gripping the door above his head tightly, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. He seemed to be mulling the idea over in his head.

You expected him to turn you away, to tell you that it was a bad idea that you were at his house so late, that people in town would get the wrong idea about you and him. 

But you were past the point of caring, you were past the point of holding back. 

“Yeah, come on in, darlin’”.

[lennadanvers]

Seven Minutes in Hell

Uni Student!Eddie x Asexual!Reader

A/N: One day left of the Ace Week and I finally finished this (kinda sorta, in the way that I can't and I won't keep adding to it, or editing it or rewriting it). I'm completely burned out, my back hurts and I lowkey hate how this turned out- there's so much dialogue and I read it so many times I just think it's bad now. However, since I put so much effort into it, and since I want Eddie to be with an ace reader, I'm posting it anyway. Please be nice, because I've been in a crisis for over a week and I will cry if you're mean. Also, this is terribly long compared with my usual works. Idk.

NOTE: The Reader is asexual. No, there is no use of the word "asexual" here, because it's not needed for a character to be ace. No, the Reader doesn't explain/teach to others what it means to be ace- they just voice their boundaries. Asexual is someone who feels little to no sexual attraction (and you can use it either as an umbrella term or a micro label- please investigate more if you feel like it! It's a very interesting topic and you can learn a lot!). Being asexual doesn't equal to being aromantic: an asexual can still feel romantic attraction. Also, asexuality looks different for everybody- some aces may be okay with kissing but not sex, for example. This Reader isn't okay with either. I hope you enjoy the fic! Happy Ace Week!!

Okay, this was a very bad idea and you should have realized sooner.

In your defense, life this far from your hometown is… different. Lonely. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone. You had a safety net all the time. Maybe you weren’t friends with everybody- but you were friendly with most, at least.

Here, on the other hand, you are alone. Big city, small-town girl… a sad combination. You’re barely learning how to survive. None of the skills you had acquired at home are useful here. For God’s sake, you can’t even bike to the store- you have to take the subway.

One good thing about the city, though, is the variety. When you first came here, the thing that seemed the most exiting was how open people were about themselves.

They’re just not that friendly, though. No in a deeper level, at least. They are, however, very active. Lots of parties, concerts, bars and nights out. The girls in your dorm are unable to sleep during the night, apparently.

And if you want to fit in with them, you have to at least attend a party once in a while.

That’s what brought you here. You start to question if it’s worth it, though, when Lindsay- redhead, loud, flirty Lindsay- grabs you by the waist and starts dragging you across the room. She’s nice, but she’s… different. She goes out with a different boy every Friday, and brings another one to her dorm room every Saturday. It’s really not your business, and it seems to make her happy, so you simply steer away from her business.

It's not that it bothers you. You just don’t get it. Well, not in practice. In theory, it makes sense. But when you picture yourself in her place… It’s uncomfortable. Weird. Foreign. You’re happy she’s happy this way- it’s just not for you.

She doesn’t feel the same way.

You see the circle of people too late, take too long to come up with an excuse; and before you can stop her, she’s announced you’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.

You’ve never taken part in things like this. Never wanted to. Now everyone is looking at you, and you’re just too uncomfortable to run away, even if what you want the most is to disappear. Lindsay goes over the rules. You look around for a way out. Maybe a fire alarm will be waiting for you.

That’s when you see him. A curious pair of puppy eyes, a wild mane of hair and an unmistakable rockstar vibe.

Eddie Munson.

This has to be a nightmare. You remember him from Hawkins High- how could you not? He was always so loud an opinionated, so funny and charming, so… So different from everyone else. It was hard not to notice him in the hallways, but that wasn’t the reason you were always looking for him. See, he had- still has, now that you’re face to face again- something that draws you to him. Something in his smile, in the way he moves his hands, so confident, so in display, like the world is a stage and he’s the main character.

And you’ve always felt like the audience, an external observer, the witness to other people’s stories.

Until now, that Eddie Munson is in the same city- the same party, the same room, the same group of people- as you, far away from the hellhole that is Hawkins. Until now, that he’s staring at you, just as surprised, but a little less terrified. Until now, that Eddie looks like he’s expecting something from you. You’re sure your clueless expression is what makes him smile shily and look down at the floor, where an empty beer bottle points straight at you.

Dread washes over you as people start to cheer. Eddie chuckles and stands up. Lindsay grabs you by the arm- who knew that a girl this petite could be so strong? – and drags you to an empty closet.

Only when the door slams behind you, muffling out the music and noise from the party, you realize what happened.

You’re alone, in the dark, with Eddie Munson.

Trapped in a tiny space for the next eternity (seven minutes). And he’s cute, taller than you remember, and he smells nice. And he’s probably expecting something from you. Something like a kiss. Or more.

And you, for the love of God, do not want a kiss. You want him to be pretty and funny and at a safe distance from you.

The silence is overwhelming, his breathing too close for your liking. That’s the only excuse you can find for what you blurt out next.

“I absolutely do not wanna kiss you!”

The silence turns heavier. You press your hands against your mouth, but it’s too late. Maybe it’s a good thing it’s dark in the tiny closet, because at least he can’t see your horrified face. You hear a scoff and what sound like his feet shuffling to the side.

“Of course you don’t. You’re way too out of my reach, yeah? Were you hoping to be paired up with one of those pretty boys?”

His voice is harsh.

You had seen him argue with Jason Carver before. You had seen him mad, frustrated and mocking. None of those times did he sound quite like this. Never had such an edge. If the lights were on, you worry you’d see a sparkle of hurt in his eyes.

Maybe that’s why you start to explain yourself, panic taking over.

“No! No, that’s… That’s not what I meant at all! I just do not wanna kiss!”

Eddie’s laugh is sarcastic and dark.

“Yeah, I figured that much. Well, guess what? I didn’t wanna kiss you either!”

He sounds angrier now. It’s easy to picture him with his arms crossed.

“Really?”

When the only reply is silence, you know you should have shut the hell up. Or at least you could have tried to not sound so relieved. You cringe.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant either. I-”

“Listen, I have no intention of kissing someone who doesn’t want to kiss me. So why don’t we just wait in silence until the time is up?”

You remember his frown when the jocks made fun of him at gym class. Eddie looked miserable half of the time at school. Now he’s left school, moved away from Hawkins, and you’re making him miserable all over again. Even if you really don’t mean to.

The guilt makes you start whispering.

“Anyone. Ever. I don’t want to kiss anyone. Not now. Certainly not any of them. It’s just that Lindsay forced me to play! I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Trust me, Eddie, if I wanted to be locked in a tiny closet with any guy at this party it would be you, but I don’t! I just really, really don’t want a kiss- I don’t want anyone to touch me, actually… I’m sorry- I bet you wanted to have fun here and I ended up ruining your chance. Listen, I’ll just walk out of here and tell them I feel sick or something, and they’ll have to give you another chance-”

Before you get the chance to embarrass yourself further, Eddie interrupts you.

“Hey, hey, wait a second there.”

You can feel his eyes on you. That’s the only thing that stops you from yapping to death. You wait, but he takes too long to speak.

“I’m sorry if you thought-”

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable!”

He cuts your apology short yet again.

“I just thought… I recognized you. From Hawkins. Class of ’89, right? I remember you. I just…”

Eddie clears his throat. You take a deep breath because he sounds softer now. He starts talking again and it’s like listening to a cartoon character- fast and disorganized. Cute.

“I just… I thought you were kinda pretty- back then! You were always smiling, and you used to carry around some of my favorite books. I- it’s not like I like you, I… It’s-it’s been a long time, and… I saw you in here. And you look just as beautiful, you know? I’m never lucky like this. Then the bottle landed on you- I thought I had a chance, after all the years of pini- It’s okay, though, I understand! I bet you have better things to worry about, huh? I bet you’re busy publishing novels or something, right? I remember your poem, the one you read on the talent show- I really liked it!”

Somewhere between pretty and beautiful, Eddie started leaning against the wall. His shoulder is warm against yours. You really don’t mean to, but a giggle escapes you.

“Oh, and now it’s me who can’t shut up. I really should have learned by now. I always end up getting in trouble like this. Do you think I could finish all the oxygen here if I keep talking? I could die of suffocation. That would save me the embarrassment of having to see your face when your friend opens the door. Would you do me a favor and forget any of this happened? I really don’t want you to remember how much of a loser I am...”

You’re laughing now. Eddie’s head thumps against the wall next to you and you decide to stop him.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way. I don’t think I can forget how you think I’m pretty and beautiful…”

Eddie is groaning, and probably shaking his head too- his hair tickles the side of your arm.

“Also, if you died of suffocation now you wouldn’t know that I thought you were pretty too. Back then, I mean. Oh, and you were never a loser. I always thought you were very smart- with all the ways you found to get back at Carver and his clique. Also, it’d be a shame to deprive the world of your music! I remember you at the talent show too.”

His voice sounds muffled. Is he hiding his face in his hands?

“Stop making fun of me!”

It’s not an accusation. It’s whinier and more playful. It helps you relax a little.

“Are you kidding? I’d never make fun of you! I’ve actually always liked you, Eddie.”

You’d swear his breath just hitched.

“Are you serious?”

Lucky you, the darkness won’t let him see the way you’re blushing. You shrug, trying to look nonchalant even if he doesn’t see you.

“Well, yeah.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Listen, I think we started with the wrong foot here. Why don’t we… Would you like to… I don’t know, maybe sometime we could-”

A beam of blinding light and awfully loud music interrupts him.

Oh, God.

“Time’s up, lovebirds! Ooh, look at you! Girl, you’re red as a cherry! What were you guys up to, all cozy in here?”

Lindsay is smiling at you, and you want to disappear again. You don’t dare take a look at Eddie; you just push past her, out into the party. You just want to get away. You need to get out of this house; out of the city, maybe- run away from the stupidity.

Stupid Lindsay.

Stupid game.

Stupid kisses.

Stupid expectations.

Stupid yo-

Someone takes a hold of your wrist and brings your escape to an end. Shit.

“Hey, hold on! Wait up!”

You really don’t want to turn around. You really, really don’t want to see his round, starry eyes up this close. You really, really, really don’t want to know how far you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Eddie. No, you want to pretend you never saw him here. No, the last time you saw Eddie Munson was graduation. He was happy, had that stupidly cute smile of his, and then you never heard anything from him-

“Hey, I’m sorry- oh, God, you said you didn’t want to be touched. I’m sorry!”

He lets go of your wrist as if it was hurting him. His voice is a little too loud now that you’re out of the house. But it’s still gentle and nervous. You take a deep breath and turn around. At least you can’t make this worse, can you?

“I didn’t mean it that way, Eddie.”

“You didn’t…? Oh! Oh, no, you didn’t! No, I see, I- I know. Okay!”

Eddie closes his eyes and scrunches his nose, his head falling backwards. It’s a cute face, even if he looks completely humiliated right now. Something that makes no sense to you.

“Listen, I… Would you like to hang out sometime?”

It’s a simple question. That doesn’t stop you from blinking three times before replying with another question.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes open like a cartoon character’s.

“Shit! You don’t do that either? I’m really sorry. Fuck, I’m an asshole, and I should leave you alone. I’m so sorry. I promise you’ll never see me again…!”

In his rush to give you space, he ends up tripping over his own feet and falling on his ass. You try to catch him by the arm, but he’s too heavy and you end up falling too.

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

A laugh makes its way out of your chest and it’s impossible to stop it.

“Oh, God…! Are you… okay, Eddie?”

He’s staring at you as if you were crazy. Fair, because you probably are.

“I didn’t mean to laugh,” but you’re still laughing, “I’m sorry. I guess we’re both sorry, huh?”

The giggles keep coming out.

“Yes… I’d like to hang out sometime.”

His head snaps to you.

“Really?”

You do your best to get the laugh under control.

“Really.”

“Okay, then.”

Now he’s taking your hand and lifting you to your feet. It’s a simple movement, fast and soft; but not faster than your ability to blush. At least you’re not laughing anymore. Eddie is closer now than he was in the closet, his chin a couple inches away from your eyes. He smells like wood and blankets: warm and cozy. It’s easy to forget the party behind you, the loud music and cold air disappearing into his eyes.

“So… No kisses, then? Of any kind? Or is it like touching?”

You find yourself whispering too.

“Just no kisses on the mouth.”

“Great.”

Suddenly, coming to this stupid party doesn’t seem that terrible of an idea, because Eddie Munson is kissing your forehead. And it’s ridiculous, silly and amazing. He’s also blushing, eyes crinkling at the sides and a round, shy smile reflecting yours.

“Just so you know, that counts as our first kiss.”

“First? That implies more than one. Someone’s very confident.”

“Well, the night is young and you look like you have some time to spare. What do you say we get out of here? I could introduce you to the best milkshakes in the city.”

“…I’d actually love that.”

This time it’s you who grabs his hand. Eddie grins, and he looks just like the boy who stood on tables back at Hawkins High: young, brave, ready for adventure.

“I shall show thee the path, milady.”

He bows and you laugh. Walking away from the party and the rest of the world is easy. Comfortable. Natural. The way heaven must feel like, if you had to describe it.

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

Hi hi request time

Optimus x reader

The reader is a librarian and works at the local library. There she met a guy named Orion( optimus in holo form as a secret experiment of dwelling among humans) and often talked to him about things. She is also a part of team prime and has a huge crush on Optimus but never approaches him for obvious reasons. So she confines with Orion about her feelings for optimus and makes him aware of her feelings for which he feels guilty and starts to see her in a different light

Now comes another guy into the picture

I want u to make Optimus jealous as hell enough to make him confess his feelings with a passionate kiss which will cause her to faint in his arms.

Ps: make him panic as she faints in his arms and later being chewed out by Rachet as it seems he has broken her by that kiss

Optimus was unsure where to go in the human town. He'd driven through a few times, but now that he was of the appropriate size to enter buildings, he didn't know which one to go to. There were just so many and he didn't want to get it wrong.

Perhaps it was luck or fate, but he found his way to a large building with a sign posted above labeling it saying 'Public Library'. He may not know a lot about human things, but he at least knows what a library is. He also knows someone who works there.

He entered and instantly saw you sitting at the desk. Your familiar face instantly soothed his unease about being in unfamiliar territory. He walked over to the desk about to greet you as he would normally back at the base. You looked up and spotted him.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" You smiled sweetly. You had not seen this man before, you wondered if perhaps he was new to town.

It took Optimus only a second to remember he was wearing a different face, you did not know what his holoform looked like, so it made sense that you did not recognize him. He was about to explain it was him, Optimus. But then remembered Ratchet telling him not to tell anyone. They didn't need anyone recognizing their holoforms as it could ruin their cover.

"Just browsing." Optimus smiled back.

"Let me know if you need any help finding something." You said, then got back to your duties.

Optimus was happy to see you, you were always so kind and helpful. He wandered around the library for a little, reading through a few that looked interesting. Mostly about Earth's history, or politics. Eventually, he found his way back to your desk.

"Find everything you were looking for?" You asked.

"Actually, I was wondering, if you could recommend something." Optimus asked.

"Sure, what genre are you looking for?"

"What's your favorite?"

"Oh that's a tough one." You laughed. "There are so many good choices. But let's see." You walked away from the desk, walking through the shelves of books. You scanned over each book until you found one.

"Here. I think this is a pretty good one for someone who is open to anything." You handed over the book. Optimus took the book from your hand gently.

"Thank you."

You smiled and headed back to your desk. Optimus found a seat and began reading. After many years of being a clerk, Optimus was a very fast reader. And a couple of hours later, he was done. He took the book back over to you.

"This was a great recommendation, I enjoyed it." Optimus stated.

"You're done already?" You were shocked. Optimus nodded. "Wow, you read faster than I do. Uhm, I am glad you liked it. This author has a few more if you like."

"Thank you." Optimus chuckled. He had never been complimented on his reading ability before.

"What's your name?" You asked. Optimus had a slight panic, unable to think of any human names.

"Orion."

"Nice to meet you. Are you new to town?" You greeted.

"I am. I just moved here. What about you?" Optimus tried to direct the conversation back to you, hoping it would stop you from asking too many questions.

"No, I've been here my whole life." You answered.

"Do you enjoy working here?"

"I do. I love books and reading, so this is pretty much a dream job for me. What do you do?"

"I'm a clerk," Optimus replied, using some semi-truth as he used to be. So he didn't feel like he was lying to you. "What else do you do around here?"

"I generally spend time with my friends after work."

Optimus wondered if you were talking about him and the other Autobots. Or perhaps some human friends he didn't know about.

"Well it was really nice to meet you, but I'm afraid I have to close up." You apologized.

"Of course. Have a good night." Optimus left and headed back to base. It wasn't long until you arrived at the base as well. Optimus smiled as he saw you, he wanted to talk to you about the book he read. But he knew he had to keep his holoform activities a secret.

For the next week, Optimus kept going to the library, reading books that you suggested. Then he would go to the front desk to discuss them with you. He enjoyed your time together and found that you both had a lot more in common than he originally thought.

~~

Once again he entered the library, your happy face bringing a smile to his.

"You look very happy today." He commented as you seemed much chipper than before.

"Oh, well I guess I am." You giggled.

"May I ask why?" Optimus was intregued. He had spoken to you yesterday in his bot form, about other things. But you seemed like your normal self. And now you seem a lot more bubbly.

"Well, uh. It's this guy that I like. I spent ages with him yesterday, and it was just a really good time. It was so nice to spend some time with him and talk to him. It's kind of rare getting alone time with him, so it was amazing." You explained. Optimus wondered who you were talking about, and who was the mystery guy you enjoyed spending time with.

"That sounds like a pleasant time. Is this someone you are fond of?" Optimus was intrigued to know more about someone who could make you grin so much. You blushed in response.

"I guess you could say that yes. I really like him, you could say I have a little crush on him." You brushed some hair behind your ear, a nervous habit. The thought of your crush makes you blush more. "It's kind of funny, and a coincidence really but his name begins with O too."

Optimus thought about it, it must really be a coincidence that you knew so many people with an O name. Then it began to click, was it possible you meant him. Maybe, but he had to be sure.

"What's he like?" Optimus asked.

"Tall, smart, he's a wise leader that takes care of his friends and looks out for everyone. Really trustworthy and just someone you can look up to." You sighed, picturing Optimus as the tall bot you knew.

Optimus blushed, he didn't know you viewed him like that. Or that you felt that way about him, but he felt flattered. He could see the way you smiled as you thought about him, and it made him feel warm and happy.

"Have you thought about telling him?"

"Oh no, I couldn't! I don't think he feels the same way, and I don't want to ruin anything." You admitted. "I am content just being around him."

Optimus thought you were so sweet, and they way you blushed when you talked about him was cute.

"Anyway, would you like another book recommendation?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, please."

Later that night, at base Optimus couldn't keep his eyes off you. He kept thinking about how you felt, and how guilty he felt that he knew, but you could never know. Optimus watched you more closely, watching the way your face lit up when you saw him, the way you fidgeted with your clothes when you spoke to him. They way you sounded happier and livelier when you spoke to him than with the other bots. It was all adorable. As he watched you and listened to your voice and your lovely laugh, his spark began to tingle. His frame heated up, in a Cybertronian form of a blush. He had to excuse himself to calm himself down. It didn't take long for him to realize he was starting to have feelings for you.

The next day at the library he saw you again, your bright smiling face illuminated the room and made him enamored. He wanted to say something but couldn't. He couldn't tell you who he was. He was worried telling you who he was after all this time may upset you, as it may seem like he was lying to you this whole time. And he did not want to upset you.

Optimus walked straight over to the books, distracting himself with trying to find something to read. He wanted to talk to you, but he knew talking to you would make his spark beat fast. Optimus grabbed a random book and took it, going to use it as an excuse to start a conversation. Then he heard you laugh, a loud joyful laugh that made him feel fuzzy and warm. He smiled and walked to the front, only to find you talking to another human male.

The man was leaning on the desk, talking to you. You laughed as he spoke. Optimus felt a rush of jealousy, something he had not felt for many years. At first, he was not going to do or say anything, he knew how you felt about him. The human male could not sway your mind so easily. But then the man touched your shoulder and tried to lean in towards you. Optimus quickly scurried over and began pulling you away.

"Orion? Is everything ok?" You asked as you were dragged from the desk towards the back of the library.

Optimus thought about the words he was about to say, wanting it to be perfect.

"I want to apologize, I had to keep this a secret to make sure my cover was safe. And that you would be kept safe from not knowing. But I can't keep it secret anymore. I have to tell you because I have to tell you how I feel. It is me, Optimus, this is my holoform. I'm sorry I have deceived you, but I have to tell you now because I want you to know that I have come to be very fond of you. Over these last few weeks I have seen you in a brighter light, you have shown me how truly beautiful and amazing you are and I have fallen for you." Optimus then gently cupped your face in his hands and pulled you forward into a loving and passionate kiss.

He pulled back to see your shocked face. A split second later you fainted, falling into his arms. Optimus caught you, slowly lowering you to the floor. He panicked, having no idea what happened. He was terrified he had done something wrong and hurt you. He quickly picked you up and rushed outside, to his truck mode. He placed you inside and quickly raced you back to base. He quickly transformed, asking Ratchet to look you over, as he gently held you in his servos.

You were still unconscious while Ratchet demanded to know what happened and what Optimus did to cause you to be unconscious. Ratchet's telling off made Optimus feel worse about the situation. He should have known better than to ambush you like that.

Eventually, you woke up. Coming too on an empty berth with Optimus sitting by your side. He smiled as he watched you open your eyes.

"Did you confess to me?" You asked, your voice quiet as you slowly came to.

"I did." Optimus admitted, feeling guilty. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have."

"No, I am glad you did. And I am glad I didn't just dream it." You sat up, now fully awake. You scooched closer to Optimus and placed your hand on his servo. "I feel the same way. But I guess you already know that." You laughed.

Optimus smiled, glad that you were not angry at him. Thankful that you still felt the same way about him. After all this, he was glad he decided to go into the library as his holoform. It turned out to be one of the best choices he ever made.

[angelst4re]

Hi angel 💕 Could you write a counterfeit jamie smut where the reader used to be friends with benefits with him and he comes back to her town on tour and she ends up in his hotel room if you know what I mean 🤭I love you’re writing <3

hi lovely!! thank you so much!! im sooo sorry for making you wait so long THIS REQUEST IS LITERALLY FROM FEBRUARY??? i hope it's worth the wait :)

Addiction- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

warnings: NSFW!!! this contains smut so if that makes you feel uncomfortable then please don't read!! <3

notes: it's been a while... for the last month i've been so busy and when i haven't been busy i've been thinking about noah sebastian and/or cillian murphy (jamie i am sorry i'm in a hoe phase rn!!) but i also have a henry creel drabble to post tomorrow as well so keep an eye out for that :) ALSO I WANNA SAY A BIG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!! (p.s. this isn't proof read and i wrote this over the span of three weeks so i apologise for any mistakes!!)

When you received the message from Jamie telling you he’s playing a show in your city, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were out for lunch with two of your friends, who were questioning the wide grin on your face. 

“Oh, I just know she’s texting Matt again,” one of your friends smirked, eyeing you up, “are you ever going to meet up with him? You’ve been talking for almost 3 months?!”

“Oh, no, it’s Jamie. He’s playing here with his band next month, he wants me to come and see them. He’s sent two tickets, I could ask for an extra one if you wanted to come with me-”

“That’s perfect! You can ask Matt to come with you!” Your other friend suggested, although it came off as more of a demand. 

“But what if he asks about how I know Jamie? I couldn’t really explain that on a first date.” 

“Well, just tell him he’s a friend, maybe leave out the ‘with benefits’ part.”

“We stopped that a while ago, actually. I haven’t seen him for almost a year, we’re kinda just friends now.” 

“Then that’s your story sorted then,” your friend grinned, picking your phone up from the table and placing it in your hand, “now tell Matt he’s got a concert to go to.” 

You were surprised when Matt texted back, telling you he’s never heard of counterfeit before, but he’ll happily listen to them and come with you. You felt a little bad for lying to him, telling him you had no one else to come with you as your friends were working that weekend. 

On the evening of the show, Matt came to pick you up. You would’ve usually dressed quite casual for a concert, specifically one of Jamie’s, but this was also a date. You stepped out of your house wearing a black dress, comfortable shoes and a cute handbag to match the outfit. 

“You look amazing,” Matt said, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “let’s get going!” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That guy right there,” Matt shouted through the noise, pointing at Jamie, “is your friend?” His mouth was open in disbelief as you nodded your head. He had already had four beers, and you had only been here just over an hour. 

“Yeah, I met him at one of the restaurants I used to work at. It’s a funny story actually, some crazy fangirls were waiting outside for him to leave so I kinda helped him ‘escape’ through the back…” You trailed off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, his attention was elsewhere. 

“Cool, I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” 

You shook your head and watched as he disappeared off into the crowd. 

Your eyes were drawn to Jamie, reminiscing on the times you had spent together. The times your bodies were intertwined beneath the covers and the times you spent laughing together in the car. You missed him, it was truly like it was a ‘right person, wring time’ kind of situation. 

Time passed and passed and you realised Matt hadn’t come back yet. Surely the line wasn’t that long? You just assumed he had gone to the bathroom, especially after drinking that much. But another 15 minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, so you went to search for him. You assumed he wouldn’t have wandered far from the bar, so you were heading in that direction. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were pushed up against the hotel door, slamming it shut as his lips met yours. One of your hands found his hair whilst the other was grasping at his shirt, as if you were hanging on to him for your life. The familiar smell of his aftershave, mixed with cigarettes gave you a feeling of nostalgia, and it was as if you were experiencing deja vu. 

His hands were on your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher, until his cold hands met your bare hips. 

“Jamie,” you gasped, pulling back for air. As if he couldn’t take his mouth off you, his lips were now on your neck, kissing and nibbling the spot he knew would make your knees buckle. 

The last thing you expected tonight was to leave the show with the singer. With Jamie. But after you went to look for Matt, you caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat. A part of you felt sick, betrayed, but another part of you felt relieved. However, you would never admit that’s how you felt, especially not to your friends. 

Jamie had given you a backstage pass, and cleared it with security before the show. You knew how the night was going to end as soon as you received the text from him. 

“Why does this always happen,” Jamie asked rhetorically, against the skin of your shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses, “always end up coming back to you.” 

You smile at his words, it was true. The two of you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other when you were together. 

Before you could process what had happened, you were pushed against the table, and Jamie took your thighs, lifting you to sit on the edge of it as he got down to his knees. 

His kisses began at your ankle, and he looked up at you as they got closer and closer. Your calves, your knees and eventually your upper thigh. 

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed as he held your thighs open, one finger pushing your underwear to the side. 

He dragged a finger through your slick folds, earning a sigh from you as he grazed your clit. You looked down to see a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes briefly met yours before he placed a kiss over your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it as you dug your nails into the underneath of the wooden table you were sitting on. Jamie quickly noticed this, and the hand that was holding your legs open for him guided your hands back to his hair. 

“Shit.” You gasped as you felt a finger gently press into your entrance, his lips now wrapped around your clit, sucking and nipping at it. “M-more…” You managed to whisper. 

“That’s not how we ask for something, is it, darling?” Jamie teased, a devilish glint in his eyes as two of his fingers pressed into you, agonisingly slow. 

“Please,” you whimpered, “I need… I want more, please, Jamie.” 

Jamie chuckled, his thumb now replacing his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He stood back up, towering over you before leaning down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself as he did so. 

“I’ve missed hearing you beg,” he whispered, “come on, sweetheart, let go for me. I know you're close.” 

He was right. You swore he knew your body better than you did. 

You could feel the knot in your belly tightening, getting ready to snap at any moment. 

“You’re making such a mess, y’know that? My messy girl, can feel you dripping down my hand,” you could tell what he was doing, he was trying to push you to the edge, he knew what effect his words had on you, and he was taking advantage of that, “that’s it, angel. You can do it, cum for me.” 

And that did it. 

Your head was thrown back, your thighs trying to close around him as he continued to work you through your orgasm. The moans falling from your lips were muffled by his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

His fingers slipped out of you and he reached for your thighs, his slick coated fingers leaving your skin sticky as he pressed his body against yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed. 

As your back hit the mattress, he began to undress. You took off your ruined underwear before you reached for your dress, to slip it off, but he called out to stop you. 

“Hey, leave it on. It looks so fucking sexy.” He growled, unbuckling his belt to let his trousers fall to the ground. 

He kneeled on the bed and shuffled his way between your legs, holding them open for him as he leaned down to kiss you once again. 

“Jamie, please.” You whined, lifting your hips to try and get him to do something. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back, darling. It’s been a while since I’ve…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as you reach your hand between your bodies, palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

He grabs your wrists, his fingers digging into the skin sure to leave bruises for you to look back on in the days to come. 

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch, now, did I?” His eyes had darkened with need and lust, and the way his face twisted into a devilish smile made a whimper slip from your lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you baby. I knew all those years ago I had ruined you for any other man, this just proves it, hm?” 

With one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other one comes down to drag his thumb over your bottom lip, before you welcome him into your mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his thumb. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “keep your hands here, okay? I know you will, you’re my good girl, right?” 

You nod your head and manage to say a muffled ‘yes’ as his thumb presses down on your tongue as he uses his now spare hand to push his boxers down, letting his cock free from its restraints. 

He wastes no time, swiping his fingers over your slick, spreading it over his dick before pumping himself a couple times. His breathing is heavy as he lines himself up with you, your hips squirming as you wait for him to finally push in, but he takes his time teasing you beforehand. When the tip finally slips into you, you both let out a moan and his head falls forwards, buried where your neck meets your shoulder. 

It’s clear that neither of you have had any action lately, as you both need to take a moment before Jamie begins to move. You dig your nails into the pillow as he begins to slowly move his hips. 

His hand that was once over your mouth trails down and rests on your neck, applying a little pressure as your eyes fall shut. You feel how his cock slides into you, nudging spots inside you that made you shiver. He would pull back out until only the tip was left inside, before fucking back into you, getting progressively rougher. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” He said before leaning down to capture your lips with his. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your hands planted above your head as you melted into the kiss. You took advantage of the use of your legs, if you couldn’t touch him with your hands. 

One of Jamie’s hands slid between your bodies to find your clit again, using his thumb to try and bring you the edge, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. In the past, you and Jamie went maybe 2 or 3 rounds sometimes in one night. However, it was different tonight. You hadn't seen each other in a long time, let alone had sex. 

His pace began to quicken, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher. He buried his face in your neck once more and you couldn’t help but tangle your fingers into his hair, gently tugging on the blonde locks. 

“Shit,” he gasped, masked by a dark chuckle as he kissed your neck. 

“J-Jamie…” Your mind was too clouded by everything to even think about forming a proper sentence, but Jamie knew you and your body better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. 

You knew he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside you. Your grasp on his hair tightened as you felt your high getting closer and closer. 

“Inside.” Was the final word you managed to mutter into his ear before you came undone, your legs locking around him, making sure he wouldn’t pull out before you came down from your high. 

As you were beginning to catch your breath, your muscles relaxing as you lay there blissed out, felt him twitch in you once more, cumming inside you with a moan, followed by your name. You rocked your hips as he stilled inside of you, milking his cock of every last drop. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, follow by a chuckle as he smiled lazily down at you, “you don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

[coraniaid]

I remember reading a good post on here a year or two -- which I'm afraid I've been unable to track down again -- which pointed out that the Buffy writers' retroactive creation of a central coordinating "Watcher's Council" in Season 3 makes the fact Kendra wasn't expecting to meet Buffy when she visited Sunnydale in Season 2 rather strange. Surely Giles would have been sending in reports about Buffy's vampire-slaying to the Council, and surely the Council would have passed these on to Kendra's Watcher when he became worried that something bad was about to happen in Sunnydale. The post suggested as an explanation the theory that, after Buffy died and Kendra was activated as a Slayer, the Council just assumed Giles was coping really badly with losing his Slayer and dismissed all of his follow-up reports about her out of hand as a sad delusional fantasy.

In the same spirit, I'd like to propose that the fact Faith clearly is expecting to meet Buffy when she arrives in Sunnydale in Season 3 suggests that, inverting the pattern above, Giles has been lying to the Council about Buffy all summer and pretending that she's still in town doing her duty as a Slayer (and that he isn't spending all his time flying around the country desperately trying to find her).

This gets a bit long, but bear with me.

Faith knows about Buffy and she's heard at least a few stories about her (she calls her "infamous" and asks: "so, B, did you really use a rocket launcher one time?"). Faith can only have heard about past Slayers from her Watcher, who must ultimately (indirectly) have heard any details about Buffy through Giles sending reports back to the Council.

But Faith isn't just aware of Buffy as some abstract former Slayer. She comes to Sunnydale looking for her ("you're ... uh, Buffy, right? [...] I figured this was my chance to meet [you]") and, I suspect, deliberately arranged her fight with a vampire at the Bronze to make this happen (in particular she only seems to start fighting back once she has an audience...). Why didn't she head to Jamacia in search of Kendra? Well, clearly her Watcher must have told her that Buffy Summers was alive and that it was Kendra's death, not Buffy's, that had led to her being called. (Clutching at straws, but if you go back and watch the episode, Faith does nod slightly when Cordelia talks about Kendra dying; maybe her Watcher told her a bit about Kendra too?)

But how could Faith's Watcher (or anybody else), knowing that Faith has just been called as a Slayer, be sure which of the two previously alive Slayers had just died? (The show later retcons that only Kendra's death would have called a new Slayer, and Buffy's wouldn't, but I don't believe the writers had decided this was the plan before the end of Season 5's The Gift. The Mayor doesn't seem to think this is how it works, for example, and there are some things the writers said at the time that seem to rule it out too. But even if that was always what would have happened, if two Slayers at a time is unprecedented, as the show suggests, how could the Council be sure?)

The simplest answer must be that somebody told them that Kendra died. "Somebody" being, of course, Giles. But when did he tell them? The earliest he could have done it was at the end of the Becoming two-parter (Kendra dies in part one, but Giles is a prisoner for most of the following episode and I doubt Angel was letting him mail postcards back to England).

But the end of Becoming is also the point where Buffy leaves town and goes into hiding for months. Any report that Giles sent the Council from this point should have mentioned this, surely? The Council have all sorts of resources that they could have used to find her. It didn't have to be just Giles himself haring off after every false lead. But apparently, it was.

So, I think Giles wrote to the Council after Kendra died to let Sam Zabuto know and (whether actively or through omission) just ... let them think Buffy was still in Sunnydale. And then when it was time to send his next report in, he just ... kept pretending Buffy was still in town. Once he failed to tell them she was gone, he could hardly admit that she'd actually vanished weeks ago, could he? The Council generally have a pretty hands-off management style, but I don't think they'd have kept paying him if they realized he didn't actually know where his Slayer was or what she was up to. They might have decided earlier than in canon that he wasn't up to the job and needed to be replaced. Or even that this technically made Buffy a "rogue Slayer" who was refusing to follow her Watcher's orders. I think it makes sense he wouldn't tell them.

Which is why, over the summer, Faith's Watcher was telling her stories about Buffy Summers, the Slayer with a rocket launcher, stories which made Faith think she was living and Slaying in Sunnydale. Even though, for most -- maybe all -- of the summer Faith spent with her first Watcher, Buffy wasn't in Sunnydale at all.

(The show's a little bit vague about how much time passes between the start of Dead Man's Party and Faith's arrival in Faith, Hope & Trick but I don't think it's credible that it was enough time for Giles to be reunited with Buffy, for him to tell the Council she was back (and them to believe him), for the Council to tell Faith's Watcher, for Faith's Watcher to tell her, for Kakistos to murder Faith's Watcher and for Faith to flee Boston and travel over 3000 miles to Sunnydale through whatever combination of hitchhiking, freighthopping and motor vehicle theft she's meant to have used to make it there (she can barely cover the costs of the cheapest motel in Sunnydale: I don't exactly think she could afford a cross-country flight). When Giles gets through to the Watcher's retreat in England, enough time has passed for them to have found out about and confirmed Faith's Watcher was dead, and that can't have been quick either: Faith wasn't exactly rushing to tell them.)

So, all in all, Faith is pretty lucky she arrived in Sunnydale when she did. A few days earlier, and she'd have missed Buffy entirely. Maybe eventually one of her attempts to stage a fight so she could look cool in front of another Slayer would lead her into meeting the Scoobies and Giles and figuring out what was going on, but maybe not. Maybe Kakistos would have caught up with her first.

And, even if it's not intended, I like the symmetry of Kendra not knowing Buffy would be in Sunnydale (because Giles truthfully told the Council she was and they didn't believe him), versus Faith going to Sunnydale specifically to meet Buffy not knowing she might not even be there (because this time the Council did believe Giles but this time he was lying to them).

[civilotterneer]

The Search for Civ

Lye's Personal Log: 9/15/2024

Civ has been missing for almost a week now.

His disappearance was completely random. Checking his belongings and room, there was no signs of him saying where he would be going. His friends and coworkers said he had gone home with no word of him planning on anything. When I awoke on Tuesday, we was nowhere to be seen, though I had noted he had come home the night before.

The cops have made the missing persons report. The local diviners are unable to find a trace of him. Even my own magical efforts show him to have all but been home one moment, and then gone the next, with only a magical error that seems to think he's somewhere in the sky. No magical teleportation traces or dimensional portals to be found. By all accounts, it's as if he simply vanished.

I wonder if the procedure I did was the problem. A month ago, I had found magical traces of the monster we encountered in the ghost town known as Echo within his mind. A slow leaking magic, one that started to get stronger with time. Nevermind Civ's mental state deteriorating over the course of the month, but I feared if this continued that the creature from Echo could be using Civ to expand its territory, which I had to stop.

I had performed a magical removal procedure to remove this magical infection. Alas, this procedure removed his memories of his visits to Echo, which I thought was a happy side effect, but it successfully removed the magical infestation. It was contained and safe.

But Civ was magically vulnerable post-procedure, and it wouldn't take much for an entity to overpower him in his state, something I'm starting to worried may have happened. Even now, I worry that targeting him with strong divining magic may harm him.

However, I've run out of options.

At this point, the only way to reach Civ would be to use something magically connected to him. As a magic-less being, Civ would typically make this inordinately difficult.

But...

This magical infestation, it has parts of Civ in it. Memories, a connection, the strongest magical item connected to him. It might be the only object capable of this level of magic.

To make matters better (but also somewhat worse), Kerry put me in contact with her families...special resources. Dealing with them will be dangerous...but they might be the only way to save Civ.

I will begin preparations for this magical ritual, but it will take time, time I will use to exhaust all other search methods first. I am fearful of what may come in the future, but hopefully it will be worth it to get Civ back.

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[06605]

Ok but what about spiderman!Jude swinging y/n around the town for a date like MJ and Peter P in Far From Home 🥺 ??? Btw ur so amazing 💞

spiderman!jude x fem!reader

pairings: jude bellingham , reader

genre: fluff

summary: jude takes y/n on a date

a/n: Thank you for the likes I recieved on my first post, here's a "pt.2" that was requested by a lovely anon. This was short since I'm busy due to exams so enjoy! <3 Thank you once again, I really appreciate it 🙏🏿 &lt;3 | "pt.1" here

- ☆ D a t e N i g h t ☆ -

Ever since you and Jude met you've both have been increasing together; mainly a couple in general.

He would pay you frequent visits in school or out of, which you always appreciated because he was always available to you. Being a superhero and attempting to be an always-there-for-you-boyfriend require difficult responsibilities. But, at any time of day, he had time for you; he wanted you to be content.

You blinked. Realizing that you had been daydreaming for the past minutes.

You felt a weight on your shoulder and heard some gentle snoring, it was Jude.

You decide to leave him alone, since he's probably had a exhausting day.

You looked at the clock, and it was past twelve.

Your mother would murder you if she found you awake, but she isn't here. Fortunately for you, she is out of town for the month.

You close your laptop softly, without causing a commotion that would wake the other.

You moved his head with your hand to reposition his head into the cushion; his breath hitched, evidently stopping you.

You moved your laptop to your desk and officially called it a night. . . It was night, you heard a faint knock at your window.

You smiled as you saw who it was, Jude. You let him in.

He quickly pulled you into his embrace, "Jude, I can't breathe.."

"Sorry" He let go but still had a hold on your waist.

"I. . .I want to take you out. On a date. A proper date, yeah? . . Would you be willing to go?" He stated apprehensivsly "Of course."

Your comment made his eyes gleam with delight. He let go of your hand and took a step backwards to the open window, motioning two fingers together telling you to 'come here'.

You did so. "Remember, you're going outside, and I don't want you to catch a cold." He shooted a web towards an adjacent hoodie and launched it back to him.

"Put this on."

As you did, he brought his arm over your waist, bringing you close to him.

What you liked about Jude was that he was always concerned about your health, wanting to keep you from contracting any illness or condition that might alienate you from him.

He plunged backwards with you in the air, your heart palpitating and you screaming in terror as you look down and find you're almost on the ground. You gripped him as tightly as you could, unable to let go because you trusted him.

Just when you thought you were going to crash, you felt yourself ascending and him landing on some sort of concrete.

"Hey, you're fine." I've got you." He stated serenely as he rubbed your shoulder.

You opened your eyes after keeping them closed for a while and took in the scenery. It was amazing; you could see the city in grandeur, with fluorescent lights all around.

"Beautiful, isn't it... just. .like. .you. ." He said pulling out a rose from nowhere.

"A little cliché isn't it?" You teased.

"Well, I didn't know what typed of flower you liked so I just chose the most common flower."

"Thank you. For being considerate. My favorite flower is [flower]."

"Okay, the [flower]. Noted."

"Hold tight onto me again, I want to take us somewhere."

You gripped his waist and locked your fingers together tightly; after a split second, you both plummeted down the building, this time modestly at ease because that you knew you were in secure hands.

You open your eyes to see him gazing at you, the streetlight emphasizing all of his features. This man was just too stunning.

You both were now on the ground, safe.

"That was an adrenaline rush."

"Glad you liked it, follow me." He murmured, coiling his fingers around yours.

You weren't sure where was this date headed but you both stopped at a park, it was beautiful.

You both came to a halt as you noticed a blanket on the ground. You swear your heart melted as you saw it. There were lit candles on the blanket, rose petals strewn on the ground, and a takeout bag.

"Ain't have that much time but I just wanted to do something memorable." He said shrugging trying to avoiding your gaze.

"This is very memorable, Thank you Jude. I love this."

You went up to give him a kiss, and hugged him after.

"Shall we?" You gave him a wink and dragged him over so you both were on the blanket.

. .

"Thank you once more for doing this; I appreciate you and your time, Jude." You fiddled with his hair while his head was on your lap.

"Always," he retorted as he leaned back into your embrace.

The moonlight shining across the lake was a lovely sight. The color, the incandescents of the streetlights permitting you to be aware of your surroundings, the proximity of you two, cool gusts of wind striking your face feeling like a splash of water, tree rustling creating their own music, and you with your Jude enjoying his company and you enjoying his.

[v3nusxsky]

Gestures of love

*A/n~ a fluffy self indulgent fic that I am mainly writing or myself. I'm so sorry I haven't posted yesterday I've been going through some personal stuff. Which is actually what prompted this fic*

Prompt} touch starved reader isn't use to receiving the love and attention her body craves without their being a hidden agenda or used as a punishment.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Your past was something you tried to forget about. Your home is Nevermore. Your family? Nevermore. Friends? Students and staff in Nevermore. Your home town? Jericho. Now as much as you craved the facts just stated to be true you had to live with the fact it wasn't. This place and these people may not be blood but a chosen family doesn't require sharing blood. Teaching outcast history was one of the few things that brought you an unmatched joy. Ironic really, you spent all your life running from your past only for your comfort to be learning of others pasts.

Despite your reserved nature, you excelled at your job. Students love you, staff would admire your work and the principle made it clear that your work is nothing short than extraordinary. That doesn't mean that you didn't struggle. You did. Struggling in silence due to your reserved nature. Which is what lead you here. In your room, breaking down.

Today being a particularly hard day for you, all you could do is isolate yourself and work through the emotional turmoil. Conflicting feelings battling for dominance over your already exhausted body. Tears racing down your cheeks with no end in sight. Your eyes stinging as you continued to just feel it all. All the overwhelming pain of the past. You know it won't get better till you allow yourself to feel it. In the safety of your quarters you just basked in the negative emotions waiting them out. It was only a knock at the door they grabbed your attention.

You brought your hands up to wipe the tears away. Pointless really as they continued to fall instantly. In half a mind to tell the other person to leave, we'll that all died on your tongue as you saw her. The one and only amazingly talk principal. Her eyes scanning the room in an attempt to work out what was causing you emotions. Unable to find anything of use she stepped into the room shutting the door.

"Y/n? Are you quite alright?" She murmured keeping eye contact with you watching carefully for any drastic changes.

"Hmm just okay" you hummed out not really registering that she didn't believe you. Tears still streaming silently down your cheeks as your gaze was fixated on the glowing of the fire. The orange glow reflecting beautifully on your normally pale skin.

It was then that you felt a pair of strong arms snake around your waist. Stiffening at the contact instantly. Your body reacting as if the taller women was a threat. Your breath hitched in your throat getting stuck there. The room starting to spin, you kept trying to remind yourself you're safe. No one would hurt you now. Nevermore was home. And Larissa was not any danger to you. Your attempts clearly not doing any good the older women withdrew herself from you almost instantly afraid she'd overstepped. Apologises flying from her lips, she moved to stand in front of you rather than behind you. "Y/n? Can you try to breathe? You need to breathe for me."

The words coming out muffled sounds like you were being held under water. Only being human it was natural the panic spiked when you were failing to calm your breathing. Larissa's voice guiding you out of the fog like a lighthouse. You eventually pulled yourself out of your own head.

"I uh what was that?" You whimpered feeling disgusted at the weakness seeping through your words.

"Um a hug?" She mumbled back the conversation evident in her voice. Before she stumbled into a stream of apologies for causing such a reaction.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you I'm sorry y/n are you okay? I'm sorry."

Wrapping your arms tightly around yourself you can't help but long for her arms again. Eyes flicking up to her arms and back down to the ground once more you whisper ever so quietly "I uh again?"

"Again? Darling I don't want to upset you..." she trailed off unsure if she was going to invoke another bad reaction. All she received was a small shy nod causing her to slowly wrap her arms back around your waist this time pulling you into her chest.

The endorphins released was something you'd never really experienced before. Still tense you and Larissa just stood basking in the glow of the fire. Finally when your shoulders loosened and a happy sigh left your lips, only then did Larissa tighten her hold on you. She almost missed it when you whispered a confession into her chest. The beating of her heart lulling you into feelings of contentment and safety. "No one's ever done this to me before"

"Ever?" A frown gracing her lips. You deserve all the hugs in the world and it hurt her heart that you didn't receive them. "Darling I'm so sorry" she mumbled.

"Larissa, I think I um forgot what this could be like. This is helping. Can we uh um stay like this longer? If that's okay?" You whimpered out fearing the rejection or even worse being pushed from her arms and left never to experience this again.

A gentle kiss to your head and the hold around you tightening ever so slightly. "As long as you need it darling." She assured you. You could tell how sincere she was with her words.

In fact it was that the spurred you on in your emotional state to explain further. "My family aren't touchy feeley people and uh I please don't let go." A few more kisses dropped to your head as her slender fingers stroked at your waist before bringing a hand up to tangle them in your hair. The soft scratching at your skull and the steady beating of a hear below your ear soothing your troubled mind and broken heart. You may not have experienced this kind of touch before but this ? You could get use to this. In fact you may even crave it.

Word count ~ 1066

*A/n~ not sure what I feel on this. But reader being touch starved is something I relate to and I was hugged for the first time since experiencing a traumatic event in 3 years a few months ago. I’m now losing that person in my life which is devastating. Touch is extremely powerful and shouldn't be Wielded as a weapon to hurt anyone. I was exhausted from all the feelings yesterday and today I'm in my own headspace so this may not be my best work*

[pixietheclown]

Thinking about how different my life couldve been if i wasnt autistic and physically disabled :(

It's so hard properly accepting at nineteen years old that I can't do a lot of the things people my age do, yano?

Like physical disability wise, i can't walk further than two-three minutes without a walking aid, when i make new friends i have to explain to them about my mobility issues, because i'm scared to just 'show up' with my mobility aid and be seen as faking or unnecessarily using it. I can't just walk about town for hours with my friends, which for some reason everyone i meet seems to wanna do, because i need breaks every five minutes so that i don't pass out / find myself unable to walk back. I can't dance the night away on a damn nightclub dancefloor without drinking copius amounts of alcohol and causing myself to be floored pain wise the next week or so. I panic when travelling because i'm not sure my rolator will fit into the bus, i panic when walking around with my rolator because i'm scared people will look at me and think i don't need it.

When it comes to me being autistic, it's so hard to socialise no matter how much i want to because i never feel like i can fully drop my mask, and its EXHAUSTING. I get so burnt out and i cant talk to ANYONE for ages, and then when it comes to talking to people again after a week or two of not talking to them, i'm too anxious to message first 😭 i also struggle so hard making friends irl because i do not know how to just walk up to people and talk to them, and even when i DO do that, it never goes anywhere, we usually just end up being mutuals on instagram and occasionally like eachothers posts </3 i always worry about coming across as too 'weird' or 'offputting' and i struggle letting people in properly because of the way people would treat me in school due to my autistic traits.

i can't work because of my disabilities, i can't get an education, i literally have two qualifications to my name 😭 i've tried college 4 times and dropped out every time and its SO DRAINING!! i just want to do something with my life, but all i can do is survive :(

Idk i just wonder how different life woulda been, you know? Maybe i'd have a job, maybe even my dream job! Maybe i'd have more qualifications, maybe a dog, or another pet, and maybe i'd have a group of friends. I feel so silly for thinking this way :(

Does anyone else feel similarly?