#just met one of my neighbor's older kids for the first time (i think shes in her early teens?)

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[lovebugism]

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

[atimeofyourlife]

Time after time

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: uncle wayne adopts steve | rated: t | wc: 942 | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug

The first time they met, Wayne knew the boy couldn't be much older than fourteen. Definitely younger than Eddie, who was fast approaching sixteen. It was early, a little before 6 am, during summer vacation, no less. Wayne had finished his shift and called into Benny's to get a coffee and breakfast, on the mornings he did this, he was almost always the first customer of the day. Occasionally beaten in by a cop, or a firefighter, or anyone else that had been stuck with a night shift. But he had never seen a kid in so early. Sat alone in the corner booth nursing a cup of coffee with an almost empty plate in front of him.

"Mornin' Wayne. The usual?" Benny asked.

"You know it. But, uh. What's with the kid?" Wayne replied, nodding toward the boy in the corner.

"Dick and Linda's kid. They're back in town, and he needs a safe place. So he comes here."

"Why don't you report it?" "You think I haven't tried? His parents paid off just about everyone from the mayor down. Kid's not lucky enough to have any other family around to look out for him."

The kid came over with his empty cup and plate.

"I've told you a thousand times that you don't need to do that kid." Benny said.

The kid just shrugged.

"What's your name, kid?" Wayne asked.

"Steve, sir. Steve Harrington." He replied.

"I'm Wayne. And I wish my boy was as polite as you."

The second time they met, it was in more unfortunate circumstances. Benny's funeral. There'd been weird shit going on in town, starting with the Byers' kid going missing. Wayne didn't believe any of the official stories. But especially not the story of Benny's supposed suicide. He knew Benny so well, and something like that wasn't the sort of thing to cross his mind.  He took his place in the community too seriously for that.

But the kid had changed. A few years older, and a lot more haunted. The look in his eyes giving away that he'd seen more than his fair share in his young life. And he was jumpy, almost always looking over his shoulder.  He kept to himself, away from everyone else there. Wayne didn't see much of him until after. Steve was standing at the edge of the parking lot, his hands shaking as he tried to get his lighter to work.

"Here, kid." Wayne held his own lighter out.

"Thank you, sir." Steve replied, after taking a long puff on his cigarette.

"No need for thanks, kid. You doing okay?"

"I. I think I'm gonna miss him. He's helped me out a lot." Steve admitted.

"That was Benny for you. Always ready to help anyone out. But do you have anyone else you can reach out to if you need it?"

Steve hesitated a moment. "Yeah, sir. I do."

The third time, it was less of a meeting than Steve yelling directions at everyone. Tabitha, a woman who lived on the other side of the trailer park, collapsed in the middle of Big Buy. The kid snapped into action without second thought, checking Tabitha for a pulse, for her breathing. He yelled at an employee to call for an ambulance as he started chest compressions. At another to clear space. At some other customers to block the end of the aisle so no one else could stand around and watch. Wayne approached as Steve gave rescue breaths, before going back to the chest compressions. When he noticed Wayne, he looked like he was about to yell at him, but Wayne spoke first.

"It's okay, kid. She's my neighbor. And I know CPR too, so when you need a break I can take over."

They swapped places a few times before the paramedics showed up and took over.

"You did good, son. You acted quicker than any adults did. You may have just saved her life." "Anyone would have done it, sir. I was just the closest who knew what to do."

The fourth time, it was at the hospital. Steve in the hospital bed next to Eddie's, identical wounds, but Steve's were infected. Wayne got to talking to Steve while Eddie slept.

"I tried to protect him the best as I could, sir. I patched him up, and made sure he got to the hospital in time. I know I should have done more-"

"You did more than enough. You kept him alive, now you need to focus on making sure that you're healthy. And you can drop the sir shit. It's Wayne."

After that, Wayne lost count of the meetings. From sharing the hospital room with Eddie, to being friends, to being more. He would do as much for Steve as he would for Eddie, and wanted to ensure that both always had somewhere safe to return to.

"Steve, if you ever want to get out of that big empty house of yours, you're more than welcome to join us here. We'd love to have you move in with us." Wayne said to Steve one day while they were cooking together. Eddie always conveniently disappeared when anything cooking related came up.

"Sir, Wayne. I couldn't put you out like that." Steve replied.

"Nonsense. You're as much my kid as Eddie is, it don't matter who your momma or daddy is. We want you here, you spend enough time here as it is, we might as well make it official."

"I, Wayne. I'd like that." Steve was quite choked up, so Wayne pulled him into a hug. All was going to be okay, with him and his two boys.

[babymetaldoll]

BFF (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer meets his best friend from school after 12 years apart.  Requested: Yes, a million years ago... sorry for the delay!   Warnings: None. I don't even think I cursed.  Category: Hardcore fluff  A/N: Hey!! I'm still alive!  Masterlist

Spencer Reid knew he had fallen in love. It happened when he was just eight years old and his heart had never beat for another girl again, not the same way after he met her. (Y/N), his neighbor, three doors down the block.  

Never, and he was 24 years old already.

It all started on a random afternoon after school. 

- “You are such a nerd, Reid!”- Spencer heard a boy yelling as he shoved him down to the ground. Reid grabbed his glasses and made sure to keep them safe and in place, even when he was on the ground. The other kid, Lucas, was two years older, and for some other reason, that was nothing but kids being cruel, he had always treated Spencer like scum. And that day wasn’t the exception. 

- “Why are you so mean?”- Spencer whispered as he tried to stand up, but Lucas shoved him back to the ground, mocking him. 

- “Why are you so mean”- and the kid chuckled- “I don’t know, why are you such a baby?”

- “Didn’t your mom tell you you should never hit a kid wearing glasses?”- (Y/N) shouted as she stared at the scene from a safe distance, holding her bike. Spencer turned to look at her and for a moment, he thought what he was feeling was a panic attack. His heart kept beating faster and faster as he stared at the girl in awe.

- “Stay out of this, girl”- Lucas yelled and clenched his fist looking at little (Y/N). But she didn’t seem to be afraid. In fact, she left the bike on the ground and walked a few steps closer. 

- “Why are you calling me “girl” like it’s a bad thing?” 

Spencer looked at her with wide-open eyes. Sixteen years had passed since that day, but he could never forget the way she stood completely fearless in front of a bigger boy, and crossed her arms on her chest, almost daring him to reply. 

- “Why are you defending the nerd? Are you in love with him?”- Lucas teased and shoved the girl. But instead of tumbling or even falling, the girl moved faster and kicked him right in the balls. Lucas yelled and fell on the grass, crying in pain. (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bike and turned to Spencer. 

- “This is when you run!” 

He had never felt his heart skip a beat the way it did that day. He was only eight years old, and it never happened again. 

- “What’s your name?”- the girl asked when they reached her front porch, running away from danger. 

- “Spencer”- he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

- “I’m (Y/N), do you want some juice?”

And just like that, Spencer Reid had a friend. He followed her into her house and froze when he saw two older kids, around Luca’s age, in the living room watching tv. 

- “Those are my brothers, you can ignore them. I do.”- she explained as she kept walking. 

- “So you finally made a friend or are you forcing the kid to hang out with you?”- one of them asked and the other chuckled. But (Y/N) didn’t reply. She walked straight to the fridge, grabbed two juice boxes and some cookies, and continued her way to the backyard. Spencer followed her closely, climbed to her treehouse with her, and shared a snack. 

That was the first of many afternoons they spent together. In the years to follow, (Y/N) and Spencer became best friends. It didn’t matter that he was already in high school by the time she was in middle school. He always took the time to help her with her homework and tutored her in math and chemistry. And she always got his back. Whenever there was a bully around, an asshole making him miserable, or anyone trying to make fun of Spencer, she was there. Kicking ass. 

Kids in school would make fun of them, telling them she was his bodyguard, his guard dog. Someone even drew them in the gym locker room. Spencer was a bunny and (Y/N) was a wolf. It was supposed to make them mad, but they didn’t care. They had their own bubble, their world. And they loved it there. 

Until Spencer had to go. They were twelve, and Spencer had already graduated from high school. Caltech was waiting for him. 

(Y/N) stood by the car as Diana loaded a few boxes. They had to move to Pasadena, and even though neither of them said a thing about their feelings, it was clearly heartbreaking for the two of them.   

- “You are not gonna cry, are you?”- she joked as Spencer tightened his jaw and cleaned his glasses with his shirt. He didn’t reply, he was in fact, fighting the tears back. 

- “Who is gonna save your ass whenever you are in trouble now?”- (Y/N) asked and punched Spencer’s arm softly- “I should have taught you how to fight. You could have a black belt by now.” 

- “Did you know the best age to start martial arts class with a good balance of discipline and commitment is from eight to twelve-year-old?”- Spencer blurted facts because that was the only thing that made him feel safe. 

- “Well, make sure you take a self-defense course in Caltech or whatever. Don’t let anyone kick your ass”- she added and he friend just nodded. They stared in silence for a moment, until Diana called her son, ready to go. 

- “So… see you around?”- (Y/N) simply said and Spencer nodded. 

- “Can I write to you?”

- “Sure! can I send you my homework, so you can do it for me?”- both of them chuckled. Spencer wanted to hug her, but even after all those years, he still didn’t feel comfortable enough to do it. So he just waved, and she waved back, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was in a car with his mom, driving from his home to a new destination.     

- “I’m gonna miss you.”- (Y/N) whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the car. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell her best friend those words instead of making fun of him, but she figured she didn’t want him to think she was weak. He made her feel that way. Weak. Soft. Giddy. Nervous. 

She had a crush on him, obviously. No wonder why she had spent over four years defending him from every bully in school. She never told him, though. She felt so stupid, so silly, and so freaking girly, she couldn’t stand it. So she locked her feelings, hid them underneath thousand sarcastic, witty comments    

- “Bye, (Y/N)”- Spencer whispered, staring at her through the rearview mirror, as tears kept falling from his eyes. He knew his heart was breaking, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Skip twelve years, and Spencer still cherished every letter he had shared with (Y/N). They had long stopped writing to each other, but he always wanted to find her again. He missed her, like a part of his life that had been ripped from his chest, from his fingers. From his heart. But life was now filled with chaos. He worked at the BAU, he chased serial killers for a living. He didn’t have time for his personal life. He only had time for work. 

- “Local police department asked us to assist on a case”- Hotch announced early that morning at the briefing meeting of the team. Spencer looked at the Unit Chief and nodded, taking notes on the case they had to help with. They had worked with the local police a bunch of times, and so far it had been a good experience. 

- “I heard there is a new Sergeant in that department.”- Morgan comments as he drove with Spencer to the city police office - “As far as I know, she is very young but severe. Some of the officials said they were scared of her.” 

- “Most men are threatened by female bosses.”- Spencer replied, reading the case file for the fifth time during the trip. He didn’t take his eyes off the paper as he added - “A study indicates that women in positions of authority meet with more resistance in their interactions with male employees because those men perceive female bosses as a threat to their masculinity.”

- “And how would you deal with a female boss? Can you picture a woman as Unit Chief?”- Derek was just teasing his friend, mostly ‘cos he was bored.  

- “I don’t feel threatened by women.”- Spencer nearly stuttered as he replied, which made his words considerably unbelievable. 

- “Yeah, that’s not what I remember from the last time you talked with a woman.”- Morgan just chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Shut up.” 

Hotch, Gideon, Elle, Morgan, and Spencer walked into the police station. The Unit Chief and Gideon headed straight to the chief’s office, and the rest of the team waited in the bullpen. Most of the officers were there, doing paperwork, nothing out of the ordinary. Until one voice captured Spencer’s attention. 

- “How many times do I have to tell you, Smith? You can’t make that kind of desitions on your own? What if someone got hurt again?”- (Y/N) was scolding a young official, who glued his eyes to the floor, embarrassed. - “Now go before you get another suspension.” 

- “(Y/N)?”- Spencer whispered and turned to her. He was beyond shocked, not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would see her again. 

- “It’s Sergeant (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) corrected and looked at the young agent. And for a moment, she forgot where she was. She opened her mouth, but not even one word came from her lips. There he was, her first love, looking cuter than ever. 

- “Hi.”- Reid mumbled and waved. She stood in the middle of the police office and simply stared at him in silence. 

No one understood what was going on. Morgan looked at Elle, who just shrugged. Everybody at that office was confused. The officials had never seen their Sergeant being emotional, and it was clear she was having a moment, right there in front of everybody.  

Suddenly, (Y/N) took a step closer to Reid, and then another, until she stood right in front of him and wrapped his arms around his neck. He moved immediately and hugged her tight. That was the very first time they hugged. 

- “Are you really here?”- she whispered and giggled, moving from him and staring t him with a big smile - “Is it really you, Spencer Walter Reid?”

- “Walter?”- Elle tried not to laugh and looked at Morgan, who seemed to be trying not to laugh as well. 

- “When did you move to DC?”- Spencer asked, staring at his best friend, neither of them moving from each other’s embrace. 

- “Last month! How long have you been here?”

- “Two years. I lost track of you after Caltech. I missed you.”- Spencer confessed right away, and (Y/N) nodded. 

- “Me too… and what are you doing here?” 

- “The team was called to collaborate on a case.” 

- “You are with the FBI?”- (Y/N) wide opened her eyes, surprised- “Look at you, Smarty.” 

- “Reid.”- Hotch interrupted their reunion and took them back to reality in a second. (Y/N) let Spencer go immediately and stood straight. 

- “Nice to meet you. Seargent (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) extended her hand to Hotch, who shook it right away.- “The Chief told us you were coming to help with the case. Thank you for your time.”

- “(Y/N) is my best friend from school.”- Spencer explained to Hotch, and the team because they were all carefully listening. 

- “Nice to meet you. I was just talking with the Chief, we are meeting at the briefing room now.” 

Both (Y/N) and Spencer nodded and started walking, following the team. They had to make a major effort to focus on work. Neither of them could take their eyes off each other. Spencer kept smiling the whole time and looking at his best friend in adoration. Meanwhile, (Y/N) tried her best to remain calm. She felt exactly as she did when she was twelve. Her defense was down, Spencer made her feel weak and in love. Who knew first crushes could last that long? 

By the end of the day, a team of police officials plus Morgan, Elle, and Hotch had gone after the unsub. Spencer, and (Y/N) remained at the station, along with the Chief and Gideon. 

- “I still can’t believe you are here.”- Spencer whispered and looked at (Y/N), as the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchenette, getting another cup of coffee. 

- “Me neither.” 

- “I have so much to tell you. How are your brothers?” 

- “Married and with kids. I still can’t believe they are responsible grown-ups.” 

- “I might need proof to believe that as well.”- Reid smiled and (Y/N) chuckled at his words- “My mom still remembers you.” 

- “How is she? I miss her classes and her reading sessions.”- Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but Gideon interrupted him. 

- “They got him, we are ready to go.”- Reid nodded and turned to (Y/N), who sighed and cut him a short smile. 

- “At what time does your shift end?”- the young agent asked her.

- “Two and a half hours ago, yours?”- she replied with a soft chuckle. 

- “I think I am free now… do you want a better quality coffee?”- both of them smiled and looked at the mugs. 

- “And maybe something to eat. I’m starving.” 

- “Are you still a fan of Mexican food?”- Spencer asked and (Y/N) could barely hide the blush on her cheeks.

- “You still remember that?”

- “I remember everything.”

Reid and (Y/N) walked around after dinner. They had spent their time catching up with everything they had done since the last letter they had shared. He told her about college, his master's degrees, and PhDs. She told him about how she became a sergeant at such young age, and how she ended up in Washington DC. 

They walked arm in arm under the starry sky, like time hadn’t passed by. They talked about everything they might think of. But there was one question Spencer needed to ask her before the night was finished.  

- “I sent you so many letters after Caltech, but they all came back. They said “Not at this address”. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” 

And that was the one question (Y/N) wasn’t longing to reply. 

- “You were my best friend. My only friend and you disappeared. Why?”- Spencer stopped walking and looked at (Y/N). She sighed and bit her lips, trying to find the right words to explain her truth. It was hard, and she had tried her best to avoid it for too long. But if life had put Spencer back in her path, she couldn’t escape anymore. 

- “I’m sorry I hurt you, Spencer.”- she whispered and took a few seconds before she added - “That wasn’t my intention.” 

- “Then why did you disappear?” 

- “I needed some distance”- she tried to explain, but Spencer frowned. 

- “You and your family had moved to New York, I was in Los Angeles. We hadn’t seen each other in years. That wasn’t enough distance to you?”- (Y/N) had never heard Spencer raise his voice, but to be fair, they hadn’t talked about their feelings ever before. 

- “I needed to get over you!”- she murmured and bit her lips one more time, obviously nervous about his reaction. She was trying to be honest. - “I couldn’t continue in love with my best friend forever. I had to move on! I was already eighteen and I never even had a date, ‘cos I was waiting for you.” 

Spencer stared at her in shock. Of all the answers he thought he might get, that was not the one he imagined. He thought she was bored of him and grew tired of his letters. That she had more interesting things to do with her life than talking with a pen pal. 

(Y/N) sighed, relieved to take that from her chest, but scared of Spencer’s answer. She stared at him for a few seconds, but he didn’t react. So, she continued walking and slowly left him behind. 

Spencer tried to connect all that info, but he couldn’t believe it. He stared at her back as she walked and called out her name, jogging. 

- “(Y/N), wait.” 

- “No Spencer, it’s ok. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I was so immature and hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… I am so sorry.”- she blurted out and kept looking at her feet as she spoke. 

- “Don’t be.”- the young SSA whispered and held her hands. She raised his eyes and stared into his. She could still see the same sweet kid she had met at eight years old. - “I am sorry I never told you how I felt either. I was just so scared to lose you, and I lost you anyway.”

The two of them stayed in silence, processing what had just happened. Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what to say next. So they just stood in silence for a few minutes, Spencer kept holding her hands the entire time, slowly and carefully caressing her fingers. 

- “So… what now?”- she finally whispered and Spencer sighed. 

- “Would… you… like… going out on a date with me?”- he asked and (Y/N) was unable to control the smile on her face. 

- “Are you serious? What did we just have? Dinner and ice cream count as a date.”- she teased him and Spencer blushed immediately.  

- “Ok, would you like to go on another date with me?” 

- “I would love to.”- she replied and started walking again, this time hand in hand with Spencer. He chuckled and stared at her from time to time. 

- “What is it?”- (Y/N) asked, knowing he was looking at her. Spencer chucked again and stopped walking. 

- “If this was a date…”- but he couldn’t finish his question, ‘cos (Y/N) held his face with both hands and kissed him. It was short and childish, and both of them seemed shocked after they parted. 

- “... I was wondering if I could walk you home?”- Spencer finished asking, and (Y/N) closed her eyes embarrassed, and even held her breath. 

- “Sorry… I thought you were….”- but this time, she couldn’t finish talking ‘cos Spencer held her face and kissed her. But that kiss was neither short nor childish. It was sweet and slow. Spencer kept rubbing his lips against hers, making her feel the entire world had stopped spinning. 

- “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”- he whispered as he moved his lips from hers, still cupping her cheeks with both hands. 

- “It’s ok.”- she managed to murmur as she giggled. - “I wanted to kiss you since we were twelve years old.” 

- “Me too.”- he confessed and looked at her blushy cheeks, knowing he looked the same.

- “So, are you gonna walk me home?”- (Y/N) asked and felt Spencer hold her hand as they started walking again. He intertwined his fingers with her and turned to her for a second as they started talking again. He knew this time he wasn’t going to let her go.  

Taglist General @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @muffin-cup @cynbx @meowiemari

Taglist Spencer @calm-and-doctor @malboroniights @lovejules888

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[goldsbitch]

That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

//

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

//

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

_________________________

@superlegend216

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

TWO | the first life

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.7k SUMMARY: While on a supply run with Aaron, Daryl is eager to learn more about you. Getting pieces of you and your story then propels him to revisit your history to determine the best way to make it up to you. It goes awry when he discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. WARNINGS: Angst. Fluff is only in the childhood flashback. Uses scenes from S05EP16 SETTING: Pre-Negan Alexandria and Pre-Apocalypse A/N: omfg sorry for the late update i’ve been busy taking care of my college requirements and i took driving classes HAHSNDHDHAJA anyway hope u guys like this one

     Daryl Dixon was a man who was wired to function solely on just destination—get to it, do it, and leave it. It confused him that a part of him now ran on motivation. It was not the drive to operate that confounded him, but that he was always eager to return. 

     To you. To see you. 

     And if he’s lucky, maybe even speak to you. It bothered Daryl that the last real conversation you had was the first time you spoke since ever. There never seemed to be an opportunity anymore, and if there was, you always seemed like you were in a hurry or that you were busy as if you had a nine-to-five corporate job you had to tend to.

     He knew you were somewhat avoiding him, whether you knew it or not. 

     Right now, Daryl was focused on one thing—getting food for the community. Coming back to you was a close second. Even as Aaron made conversation, you were all he could think about. How he’d initiate a conversation without starting one. 

     The longer he listened to Aaron, the more he thought of ways he could bring you up: That girl, how’s she been? No, it’s too upfront. 

     “You okay?” asked his friend. 

     Daryl perked up. “Hm? Ah, m’sorry, just distracted.”

     “You wanna ask me something,” Aaron guessed as they kept walking. 

     “Yeah, I… Wanted to ask ‘bout Eric. Er—how is he?” Daryl worried Aaron would catch on, but it was clear he loved talking about his beloved. His enthusiasm for Eric reminded Daryl of your spirit back when he first met you when he was all but six.

     A bright smile broke on Aaron’s face as Daryl opened a wired gate. Aaron’s smile stayed as he talked about Eric. “Says he misses being out here with me. I do, too and…”

     Daryl swung the gate open, entering the deserted courtyard, thinking only of you while Aaron talked about Eric. It wasn’t that Daryl didn’t care—he did, but it wasn’t exactly easy to act like he did when his mind did him a grizzly favor bringing you up every single time. How much older you looked…

     He felt he missed a great deal of your life, and he was hoping he’d get to see more of it now that you’d reunited. If only you just weren’t so damn hard to reach then—

     “You ever felt that way about anyone before?” Aaron asked him as he followed from behind. He could sense the question in Daryl’s eyes. If he knew Daryl wasn’t listening, he didn’t give him too much for it. “Love, I mean.”

     He hadn’t heard of that word in a long time. In fact, he thinks the first time he ever learned of the word was decades ago.

     “That Dixon kid spells trouble.”

     It was your father’s routine to comment on your then next door neighbors whenever he visited you at your grandparents’ home in Georgia. It was usually that specific combination, but it also differed each day. Sometimes, he was talking about the younger kid, while sometimes the older one.

     It mattered to you a lot. You knew them more than just trouble. You were keen on making sure your family never found out you had a crush on ‘that Dixon kid.’ 

     The first time you met Daryl, you were instantly hooked by his eyes. To you, it was the greatest shade of blue you’ve ever seen. You were just settling in your grandparents’ home, saddened to spend your childhood away from your parents as they worked in the city. They figured it wasn’t exactly the best place to raise a child, so they sent you to the scorching land that is rural Georgia, in the safety of your grandparents’ care.

     You hated the Georgia heat, hated that you had to say goodbye to your friends in the city. That is until you saw that charming fella, sporting worn out overalls as he rode his bike away from home. 

     You just had butterflies fluttering in your belly. At first, you thought he had pepper or some sort of dirt just above his lips, but you learned the hard way that it was only a mole, but that’s another story for later.

     Rejection from a crush is usually a direction to stay away. To you, however, you were only more interested in getting close to the much shorter kid. You planned on befriending him first, then riding a horse to a faraway castle to get married second. 

     The first time Daryl met you, he despised you. He loathed you, even. Hated the way you wore your hair in braids and the way you couldn’t take a hint even if he tried. It was on the first day of first grade, only on the way to school.

     He always sat alone by the window in the school bus, his lunch nothing but a juice carton he could fit in his tiny pocket. You had sat down next to the boy, his feet barely enough to reach the floor. 

     “Y’know, you’re gonna starve if you call that your lunch later,” you told him.

     He only scowlded at you in response, ignoring you to watch the world pass by the window. 

     You smiled at him nonetheless. As far as you were concerned, you liked this boy. You knew right then that you would be safe in his company. “I’m [Y/N]. You are?”

     No response. You let that go on for a while—just sitting right next to each other as he watched the small world pass him by, acting as if you weren’t even there. Unapologetically, you touched the surface of his face just above his lips, trying to swipe away the supposed dirt stain.

     “What’d ‘ya do that for?”

     “You have something on your face! I couldn’t just let you go to school with that,” you argued. You could almost see it: the kids laughing and pointing at him all because he forgot to wipe off a stain from his face! You were just concerned is all.

     The boy wiped at his cheek with his hand, only to realize what you were referring to. “Heavens to Betsy! S’just a mole I’ve had since I’s a baby!”

     “Great! We’re making conversation.” You smile at the boy. “You’ve gotta think it’s silly that I know about your mole and not your name.”

     “Not gonna. Yer piddlin’, talkin’ so loud ‘ya could piss off the Pope, actin’ lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut!”

     You frown, confused at his Southern lingo “Piss of the Pope? Lower than a snake’s what?”

     His frown dissolved. “What, yer not from around here or somethin’?”

     He was relieved to see your smile return, glad to not have pissed you off to send you running back to whichever father you had who, he assumed, probably had a shotgun. 

     “Yeah! I’m from Brooklyn.”

     The boy grunted, crossing his arms. “You’ve got an awful lot to say for someone who just moved.”

     “Oh, I only have this much to say to people I like.”

     “Well, I don’t like you,” he interjected.

     You only smiled as you unzipped your bag to pull out another smaller bag. “Didn’t say you had to, because I can make you!”

     Before he could argue, you tore your sandwich in half, handing one half to him and keeping one the other for yourself to munch on. “Try it,” you tell him.

     “How do I know ya ain’t trynna poison me?”

     Rolling your eyes, you took a bite from the snack. You handed it to him insistently. “I’m still alive.”

     “Yeah, but—”

     “Just try it!”

     Daryl’s never had enough good things in his life that your sandwich appeared to be more of a threat than a peace offering. He was used to getting the shortest end of the stick, or not even any.

     He opened his mouth to debate against it, but he gave in. One bite in and something told you he hasn’t had something quite like it for the past year. You decided right then and there that you wanted to be the one who could put a smile on his face.

     “This—sh’good.” The young boy admitted in between loud chewing. “You made this?”

     “Meemaw did,” you replied, grinning as you ate your own half. “I’ve got more snacks in my bag, if you wanna share them later. But I need to know your name first!”

     The bus came to a halt. It was the first time you looked at him clearly, and him you. “I’m Daryl.”

     That night, he was all you could think of. The blue-eyed little boy who you were determined to make yours. His pretty nose, his funny walk, his everything. You weren’t particularly secretive with your feelings, bringing a sandwich for him after you asked your grandma to pack you two every day. 

     It wasn’t just the sandwiches, though. You’d often pester him, asking if he’d ever want to marry you one day, to which he’d respond with, “Ew, never!”

     “Daryl,” you called to him as he ran away from you, retreating back to his house.

     “What?” he turned back to yell.

     Grinning, you braced yourself for his outburst of anger. You made it a hobby to rile Daryl on your quest to make him yours. “I loooove you!”

     “No!” he spat back, running even faster back to his house. You laughed the entire time, thinking of when he’d eventually wear down and say it back. Little did your young self know, she’d be able to turn the tables around in just a decade. But that’s a story for another time.

     Little Daryl, on the other hand, lay in bed, staring at the ceiling racking his mind on ways he could get rid of you. That day, he was guilty of something grave, something dangerous. Thieves are born once they do the honor of their first theft, and you were just unlucky enough to be Daryl's first victim, having done you the untimely inconvenience of stealing your heart. That day was the first of many lives he would lead.

  ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     “I dunno, I was young. But I guess I did, once,” Daryl said after recounting his earliest memory he had of you: stubborn, ambitious, and determined. “Whatever it was, I screwed it up.”

     “Screwed up how?” Aaron asked, and Daryl wondered if you had opened up about your past to the guy. He wishes he’d brought you up in the conversation earlier on so that it wouldn’t be suspicious for him to suddenly talk about you after he’d just given a glimpse into his history.

     “Drove her away when I drove away,” Daryl said lightly. He was relieved to find a confused Aaron, but more so when they reached a couple of cargo containers lined up in an organized fashion marked with the text: How the harvest gets home. 

     Aaron wanted to ask, but his interest was piqued by the promise of food to take home. They made their way through the gap between the two containers, eager to give it a look. Daryl noticed the two cans hanging by the sides before he followed suit, but he followed anyway. 

     The pair climbed up the short length of stairs, pleased to find more containers.

     “Huh,” Aaron chuckled, enthused about what awaited behind the doors. The can on the door was certainly appetizing. “Woah…”

     Daryl watched as Aaron mused about the container, who bent down to loot his pack for a tool to obtain another license plate, this time from Alaska—K4Z 816, with the subtext ‘The Last Frontier.’ There was definitely something… Strange and unsettling about the place. However, the promise of something to bring back weighed more than the thought of coming empty-handed. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

     “Hey, listen,” Aaron called out, triumphant while Daryl explored the small space enclosed by the containers. “I don’t like giving up either. But… The guy is in a red poncho. You could see him from miles away. We’ve got a lot of miles here, and no sign of him.”

     The lock of the container caught Daryl’s attention.

     Aaron began to walk over to Daryl after getting a new addition to his collection. “We’ve come away with… A trailer full of cans. I’d say that’s a good trip!”

     The pair stopped in front of one of the containers. Daryl bent down to tinker with the lock, eager to get out of there to return to you. “Here you go.”

     The archer was already picturing the many things he wanted to do when he saw you again, and the ways he could approach you. Daryl grunted as he swung the handle open.

     The choice to open the door was certainly a choice, albeit an absolutely fatal one. Wires snapped from all directions as the door slid open upwards. There were no cans inside of the container, no. The pair jumped in horror as they were met by the gruesome sight of the dead, some impaled by a hook and some able to chase freedom. 

     One by one, all of the doors swung open to reveal the very same scene in front of them. The pair dashed out of the scene upon discovering their mission was a total bust. 

     The walkers were already pouring out into the open space, blocking their only way out. Daryl plunged his knife down one of the walkers making its way to him, its groans speaking only of its lethal appetite. Aaron, on the other hand, made a weapon out of the license plate he’d just looted, smashing it against the temple of a walker twice until its head split open.

     “Over here!” Aaron yelled to Daryl, pointing to the space under one of the containers. The archer followed Aaron in a haste and for the first time in a long while, Daryl feared death. 

     He felt his heart beat faster every passing second that the dead clawed their way to them, crawling with an undying thirst for their flesh. He wondered if you’d miss him if he were to die now, if you’d look for him…

     No. There was no way in damn hell he’d die without explaining himself at least twice. That’s right—twice. And even possibly more just so you’d take him back. He’d make it up to you. Daryl stole one glance at the walker crawling towards him with a ‘W’ blatantly itched on its forehead before obtaining a long metal chain as a weapon.

     The troubled pair hurriedly got out of the small space, with Daryl whipped the chain on three incoming walkers, ruthlessly determined to get out of there. He was already drafting a plan in his head: get out of there, get to you, talk to you. He was no longer going to spend more time waiting around for the right time, if there even was such a thing.

     He plunged his dagger deep into the head of the walker that had gotten ahold of Aaron’s bag before running out together. Aaron wasted no time slicing the head of a walker clean with his own machete, eager to be out of there as soon as possible. He did the same for another one coming his way.

     Holy shit, was it terrifying having to push through the walking dead as if it were just a mosh pit in a concert. The two couldn’t even begin to catch their breath as they jumped into the same door of a car, especially as a head of a walker just peeped inside in time when Aaron made to shut the door close. He had to do it multiple times until the head was crushed enough for him to finally close it.

     The shelter of the car was no use, though. Walkers gathered from all sides, clamoring to get inside. They both knew it wouldn’t hold and would eventually give up. For sure, more walkers would be drawn by the commotion, curious to get a piece of what was inside the damn car.

     “Glass will hold for a while, right?” Aaron asked, observing the crowd of hands and brutal groans from the dead on all sides of the car’s windows.

     “Maybe,” Daryl replied, still holding a dagger in his hand. Daryl thought of ways he could salvage this mission for the sake of returning to you. “Maybe we can make it so they can't see us. In a couple hours, somethin’ will come by, they’ll follow it out. There’s gotta be somethin’ in here we can use to block the view.”

     Aaron began to rummage through the compartments. “We can cut up these seats.”

     He only found an eerie warning written on a crumpled sheet of paper in one of the cup holders, stating, ‘TRAP. BAD PEOPLE COMING. DON’T STAY.’

     Aaron showed it to Daryl, who could only think of how damn helpful it would have been three minutes ago. Just like that, he was drained of the hope he could ever return to you. 

     They sat there for a while like that, hopeless. Daryl chuckled.

     “What?” Aaron asked.

     “I came out here to… Not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this feels like me… Than back in them houses. That’s pretty messed up, huh?”

     “You were trying,” he assured Daryl.

     “Can I tell ya somethin’?”

     Aaron nodded. “Lay it on me.”

     “[Y/N]... I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s—er—the one I been thinkin’ of back there when ya asked me if I’ve ever felt it before. I did. I… I thought I’d never even see her again, so I put her in the back of my mind ‘cause the last time I did, I ruined her for good. I thought she was livin’ the perfect life I always pictured for her if I left, thought she was better off. Then I met her and… Shit, I’m an asshole.”

     Aaron sat there, taking in everything Daryl had just told him. You had shared a fair piece of your history to him, entrusting him with a small part of your past you thought you’d never end up facing again. He knew of a first love that broke your heart, knew you have your fair share of regrets and grudges. He just didn’t expect it to be Daryl Dixon.

     “I see.” Aaron only nodded. “She used to be my partner out on these runs, yknow.”

     “Yeah?” Daryl asked, intrigued. He was never able to learn much about you for the past week, having been cautious about who he could and could not ask. “Why’d it stop?”

     “Well…” Aaron sighed, his eyes focused on the unsightly crowd of dead clamoring to break the glass. “I don’t think it’s my story to tell.”

     “You don’t think we’re gonna die in here?” Daryl asked with a smirk.

     “Yeah, I don’t. We’re both gonna get out of here and you’ll ask her about it and she’ll tell you.” Aaron looked around the windows. “You’ve got a lot to know. It wasn’t easy for her back then.”

     “Right.”

     “Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own by the barn. Storm hit and you led your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back.”

     Daryl could only give him a hopeless smile.

     “You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in a poncho,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have given up. You didn’t.”

     Daryl licked his lips before pulling out a cigar and placing it between his teeth. He didn’t mind having a heroic end anymore, because it meant earning him at least an ounce of redemption. It would be a sort of repentance for what he’d done to you all those years. “I’ll go.”

     Aaron looked back up to him, confused.

     Daryl had to explain as he lit his cigarette.  “I’ll lead them out. You make a break for the fence.”

     “No, no, no,” said Aaron. “This was my fault.”

     “It wasn’t a question.” He’d made up his mind. Daryl took away the cigarette from his mouth for a moment. “And this ain’t your decision. It ain’t nobody’s fault. Just let me finish my smoke first.”

     Aaron looked at Daryl, and he was sure the archer did not want to die just yet. He wasn’t gonna let that happen to his friend. “No. You don’t draw them away. We fight.”

     And fight they did, braving the outside. It was simply luck that the man in the red poncho happened to be their very savior, and he was just looking for the man that led them to shelter.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     Any half-sane man should have been concerned with the matter at hand—the crime scene unfolding before him. Rick stood there, blood the main component of his gait, having just executed the community’s only doctor.

     And yet Daryl couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, couldn’t help but stop the questions running in his head: Is she alrigh’? What is she thinkin’ right now? Is she okay? Is she fine?

     When your eyes met his, we raised his brow in question. You only looked down, avoiding his look. You always did that. You’ve been avoiding him. This time, he let it slide. After all, you did just witness a murder.

     For a while after that, you continued to avoid him. He let you. Maybe because he wanted you to, but eventually he grew tired of it. A couple of nights after the incident, he decided he’d take matters into his own hands with you.

     Daryl watched you from below. You were on watch duty at this hour of the night, manning the gates in the event a threat presented itself.

     You were so lost in thought you almost fell off the wooden watch tower when someone offered you a sandwich. 

     “I don’t think ya should be on watch if ya didn’t even catch me climbin’ up here,” the archer said, his hand outstretched with a wrapped sandwich in hand. “Made it myself.”

     “Sorry, I was just…”

     “Avoidin’ me?” he asked.

     “What?” you asked back with a nervous laugh that faded into silent confession. You took the sandwich, scrutinizing it with a nostalgic burn in your chest. This has happened before, but you didn’t want to ask him about it or bring it up in any way at all.

     Daryl looked into the distance, the night sky with a lot more stars than he could recall from when he left. “Stars are brighter nowadays, huh?”

     You’re grateful he was kind enough to give you a break from the subject. But he wasn’t trying to change it. He was just thinking of the night he left… “Light pollution’s gone down, so… Yay apocalypse?”

     His gaze returned back to you, and you wanted to beat yourself up for feeling that familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach like you did back when the only thing you felt for him was love. “Ya ain’t gonna try it? S’gonna get cold.”

     “How do I know you’re not gonna—?”

     This time, Daryl took the bread from your hands to take a bite. “Poison ya? I’m still alive.”

     You took the sandwich with a laugh. “I was gonna say drug me into liking you.”

     “Don’t need drugs for that.” Daryl gave you that same old damned smile he did, and suddenly the air smelled like the leather seats of your parents’ car that you stole. You held his stare, but you refused to return the smile. 

     “I should go,” you told him, shoving the bread to his chest as you rushed down the ladder. You heard Daryl’s frustrated and confused grunt while you were hurrying down. 

     By the time you got down, Daryl was just close behind. “[Y/N|,” he called out calmly.     “Goodnight, Daryl.” You felt the tears prickle in your eyes. You refused to face him, you just felt the fire in your legs propelling you forward, pushing you to run home. It was all so familiar, everything he did. You hated the way you felt so stupidly attached… You were an idiot. You’d give in, and everything would just go like it did back then.     “[Y/N],” he called out once more, this time with the slightest hint of indignation. He just wanted to talk to you so he could say his piece, would that be so bad? “Stop, damn it.”

     You heard his footsteps getting louder and closer just as he grabbed you by your wrist, purposeful yet so gentle like he always was whenever he touched you back then. Your heart was beyond just beating quickly. You were sure it would eventually break through your bones and run free.     You didn’t even realize your face was wet with tears until Daryl wiped it off for you. You were seventeen all over again, crying to him and asking him to take you with him if he was going to leave. You were nine once more, crying yourself to sleep after moving away. 

     “I can’t,” you utter out.     “Can’t what? Tell me.” His eyes were hungry for answers, but you didn’t even know either. You just knew you couldn’t stand to see him anymore. It broke your heart, because you thought that if you would ever run into him again, you would be okay. That you would have moved on, and you could remain civil. So many words you wanted to tell him. 

     You swat his hand away. “I can’t keep talking to you just because you’re here. I can’t—can’t keep pretending that you’re—you—that what happened for around thirty fucking years ago is no longer bothering me, because I know damn full well that it is and it always will! And you being here I… I just… I can’t!”

     “Ya want me to go?” he asked, gentle as ever.

     “No, Daryl,” you said, out of words you could say to even come close to saying what it is you felt. “I just… I just wish you never left.”

     So many explanations, and yet it was all reduced to you pushing him away. You just needed to get out of there.     And that should’ve been the end of it. Daryl respected your preference for isolation. That really should have been the end of it for at least that night. He stood there, his heart half-broken. He just decided that maybe he deserved it, that he was stupid for thinking he deserved even another chance.

     As Daryl watched you walk down the street away from him, he decided he’d give you more time. As much as you needed until you were—

     In the short distance, you fell to your knees. Daryl halted in his tracks, his brows furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were doing. Even though your back was to him, he could make out that you were doing the same habit he was used to seeing you doing, only this time, your back was heaving up and down.

     God, he didn’t need to see anything else anymore. He was already on his way the moment he felt something was wrong. His mind raced with so many terrible scenarios he refused to verbalize. 

     “[Y/N], what’s wrong?” he asked, worried as he knelt down in front of you. “What’s happenin’?”

     “I—” Your mouth was locked shut from the static that spread from the tips of your fingers all the way to your jaw. It was cold, and it was burning hot. 

     You felt Daryl scoop you in your arms without question, and you let him. You heaved short, heavy breaths you couldn’t begin to catch. You felt and heard your heart in every direction, beating as if it was taunting you. 

     “...Bringin’ ya to Denise,” you heard Daryl say over the racing pace of your deafening heartbeat. You shook your head, the static finding that safe spot of yours, too. 

     “No, I—please—home—don’t—Denise,” you managed to say in between the uncontrollable hitches in your breath. 

     Daryl shook his head, slowing down as he tried to think of the right thing to do. But he felt your fist tighten its grip on his vest in request.

     “Please. Now—Now, Dar—Now.”

     You felt him caressing your hair with the gentlest of touches, just as you remember it. You felt him whispering soft promises against your ear, but you couldn’t make any single word out of it as everything went pitch black…

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[fuctacles]

*puts mouth on microphone* I would like to ask about single dad steve for WIP title game please

hahah, can you believe i wrote this over a year ago, then promptly went 5k deep into the continuation and immediately forgot about it? bonkers. hahah. Here's a part of it:

Just as Steve expected, his neighbors started giving him the stink eye as soon as they got wind of what was happening in his garage. Eddie even offered to close it up not to make a scene but Steve protested the idea. Said he’s not going to let himself be terrorized in his own home and more so won’t let his guests suffocate in a closed garage.

Every Tuesday Steve was preparing dinner to the sound of metal vibrating through the walls. When he got a free moment, waiting for the water to boil or the oven to heat up, he would step into the little rehearsal space.

Corroded Coffin was just an arm’s reach away whenever he felt like listening in. He just had to open the door and could sit on one of the steps leading into the garage. The guys played many original songs but just as many covers, some of which Steve recognized. He has always been a pop guy himself, but both Billy and Max liked some harsher music. It grew on him regardless if he liked it or not.

And watching them play felt amazing. Sometimes, between being a single parent and owning a hair salon, he felt older than he actually was. But right outside his door, in his space, there were four guys his age, jumping around the garage with contagious energy and playing songs from simpler times. He found himself tapping his foot to a cover of Queen. To think that at first, he was hesitant to let them practice here. Now it was a highlight of his week.

Max’s teacher, Eddie, was jumping around like it was a real stage, not a cramped square of stone flooring. He was the lead guitarist, which Steve knew thanks to his kid’s lengthy ramblings about her teacher. The guy also did most of the singing, but all of them joined in, depending on the song. It was clear though who was the frontman of their band.

They were playing an especially energetic song tonight, one that left Steve bopping his head happily. The members of Corroded Coffin shared the sentiment, jumping around and swooshing their fairly impressive manes of hair.

Eddie noticed him halfway through the song and grinned like he always did. Steve grinned back, genuinely happy for being able to have his own little show in the cookie-cutter cul-de-sac in the middle of the day.

But the music teacher didn’t stop there. He approached the steps Steve was sitting on and motioned him to join them. Steve looked at him with confusion and Eddie used the seconds-long break in his part of the song to pull him up. He fumbled for a second but the overall energy and Munson’s feral grin loosened him enough that he let himself be crash-coursed into headbanging.

He hasn’t felt more alive in years.

Eddie played his guitar, jumping around Steve and throwing his hair around. Most of the singing in this song was done by Jeff so besides playing the guitar he could do as much of a show as he wanted. When the track came to an end, they were both panting, leaning into each other and grinning. Steve couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped him.

“Have I told you guys how great you are yet?”

“Only every Tuesday!” Gareth piped up from behind his drums, grinning. Eddie laughed as well.

“Didn’t know it was your scene, Harrington,” Eddie teased with a glint in his eye. Steve shrugged.

“Picked up some stuff from my ex,” he explained shortly.

Eddie quirked up his eyebrow with interest, strumming his guitar softly.

“Was she a metalhead or something?”

Steve observed him for a second, considering if he should correct him. It’s been already a month since they first met and the initial interest he had in the musician was only growing. Maybe it was a good idea to come out and test the waters. Worst case scenario he would have enough of a reason to drop this feeling before it turned into something more.

“He had a thing for classic rock.”

A look of surprise passed through the man’s face. He quickly schooled it into something friendly, but Steve could tell there were a million questions buzzing beneath.

“I see. Well, great to see some of the Hawkins folks educated,” he grinned, and it was genuine enough that Steve knew he didn’t have to worry about any kind of prejudice. He did a cursory glance around the other band members but they either weren’t listening or didn’t care about his impromptu coming out. Some of the tension seeped out of his bones. He motioned to the steps he just abandoned.

“I have some coke if you’re interested.”

Eddie’s features softened.

“Dude, you’re letting us use the garage, we should be treating you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Either you drink it or Max and you don’t want to see her on this amount of caffeine.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, and it warmed Steve all over knowing he caused it.

“Okay, fair. Thank you, then,” he smiled genuinely, disarming Steve.

They had the sodas while Steve came back to the kitchen to cook the pasta. He was still waiting for Max to come back from school too. She had basketball practice that day, which she picked up in honor of her brother, after bullying the teachers long enough to put together a small team of girls to play. The dead brother spiel worked in her favor of course. 

When the dinner was mostly ready, he stepped back into the garage, expecting another song he didn’t recognize, but instead, Eddie looked up at him, barely breaking out of their idle jamming.

“Do you know the words to Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

Steve frowned, taken aback by the abrupt question.

“I think so?” he answered hesitantly.

“Sweet,” Eddie grinned back at him. “Wanna sing for us?”

“Uh,” he hesitated, taken aback.

“C’mon, we’ll sing together,” Eddie offered and Steve hesitantly nodded. Eddie didn’t waste time and pulled him to the mic standing in the middle. It was the only one they had, rotating between Eddie and Jeff.

The familiar notes played around him and nudged with the metalhead's arm right against his, he joined him in singing.

Eddie’s voice was breathy from exertion, from playing for the past hour and jumping around. But here was a gleam in his eye, a delight from playing and maybe, maybe, from Steve agreeing to join them.

When the chorus came on, Steve felt confident enough to hip-check him out of the way and hoard the microphone for himself, He could hear Eddie cackling next to him, but he was now focused on singing and enjoying himself.

The song ended with cheers and a distant clapping. Someone whistled and Steve noticed Max applauding from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, if you’d want to sing for us sometimes, hit us up,” Jeff threw his arm around him. “You’re good,” he praised and Steve grinned his thanks.

Before he could say anything else though, someone was punching him in the ribs. He winced, knowing full well who it might be.

“You’re supposed to be my father, not a cool dude.”

Steve frowned.

“I don’t see how I can’t be both.”

“It’s a well-known natural order,” Eddie chimed in unprompted. “Parents can’t be cool.”

“Huh. Then I guess I should give you up,” he said, mock-seriously, making Max roll her eyes.

“Suuure, after all the legal shit we’ve been through,” she scoffed, looking at him in that way only teenagers could.

“Well, I think all the natural rules of a normal family are above us anyway, don’t you think?’ he raised his eyebrows, making Max smirk devilishly.

“Hell yeah. Fuck the rules.”

Steve pressed his lips not to scold her for language, but he looked to the side where, as he expected, Eddie was donning his proud teacher look. It warmed him up inside.

“Fuck the rules indeed, Red,” he grinned, holding his hand out for a high five,

Steve shook his head before gathering Max towards the kitchen.

“You guys keep it up, Max and I are gonna have dinner. Yell if you need anything.”

“Actually,” Eddie started, making both Harringtons turn in interest. “We have a show on Saturday if you guys wanna come.”

“Can I?” Max asked immediately, eyes darting between her teacher and Steve.

“We don’t usually have an audience this young, but with a guardian, it’s not gonna be a problem,” said Eddie, turning his gaze to Steve. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I usually work on the weekends, but I guess we could drop by.”

Max whooped happily and Steve couldn’t help but smile himself. He actually really wanted to see Eddie on stage, if he was anything like he saw today it would be a treat to witness.

“See you at the Hideout at 8 PM then,” Eddie grinned at them before they retreated to the kitchen.

At the table, Max eyed Steve with curiosity, pushing the broccoli on her plate out of the way. He was chewing with a distant look on his face, a foot tapping to the beat coming faintly from the closed door.

“The Hideout is a kinda shady place, don’t you think?”

Steve made a noncommittal grunt and shrugged before finally focusing his gaze on her. He frowned, cocking his head.

“Do you not wanna go?”

She scoffed, getting angry for something Steve couldn’t grasp.

“Do you want me to go?”

His frown deepened as he straightened up.

“Okay, wait. Do I want you to go to a concert with me? A concert we were invited to by your music teacher?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to find a hole in the idea.

“A metal concert. In a bar,” she pointed out, squinting at him. He squinted right back.

“So? You’ll be with me. I can get a leash if you’re insinuating you’re gonna cause problems.”

She puffed her cheeks, raising her hands.

“No insinuating here,” she assured. “Just, it’s not very,” she waved her hand. “Responsible parent of you.”

“No, but a very cool parent, I hope.”

“In your dreams”, she scoffed.

He smiled at her. She didn’t question his decision anymore, but Steve could feel her gaze on him later when they waved the band goodbye.

[snivel1]

I need to get these out of my system, so‼️‼️

Meet my ultra original Homestuck fankid!!

Dead-Eyed Cindy!

a.k.a. Cynthia Lenore!🗝️

A completely normal teenager, just like every other teen in Homestuck, trust!!🤚

More about her under the cut!!

(Note that this drawing was made when I just returned to HS and haven't yet seen some of the amazing variations of their designs here on Tumblr, so my design for Dave will probably be changed, idk)

She lived with her Big Sister, they were Strider's neighbors from a floor down

They lived in hard financial conditions, her Sister overworked herself to provide for them both and was almost never home to look after Cindy, which forced Cindy to fend for herself most of the time when she was little

She met Dave on the roof once, the meeting involved spying on his Bro and her Sister talking about some secret Older Sibling Stuff or something. It looked like her Sister was crying? Overall a pretty awkward first meeting

Cindy felt guilty often about their situation for some reason, so she helped with whatever she could in the house

But her relationship with her Sister was.. not ideal, it was very strained and painful for both of them, Cindy felt hurt from her Sister not being around much, even if she understood why that was

Even so, she still felt cared for and appreciated her Sister and her sacrifices

Cindy was bullied in school, I know, shocker, she was considered weird, dirty, ugly, scary, and was avoided most of the time. Some kids called her "Dead-Eyed Cindy", because of how her eyes resemble the ones of a dead fish, but she reclaimed that nickname for herself, because she thinks it makes her sound badass. She didn't know what friendship was supposed to be like, and convinced herself she was better off without anyone, but she desperately wanted to have real friends she could trust one day

She was very stiff emotionally when she first started chatting with Dave, but with time became more sincere and open thanks to also getting to know Rose, Jade, and John

She and Dave are both weird dead thing collectors, but Cindy prefers to collect animal bones and skulls. Their music preferences don't match like. In any form, but Cynthia greatly enjoys Dave's mixes and tunes, and always encouraged him to do more

She adores gothic rock, punk rock, heavy metal, screamo and any other "edgy" music genre you can think of

Of course she didn't have money to go to concerts and buy merch of her favorite bands, so all the posters in her room were home printed

She's all about that messy grungy look. Her hair? Intentually cut like that by herself. Smeared makeup? Her favorite style. Her clothes? Ripped and modified by herself. She wanted to ward off normies away from her this way, not caring about what other people think of her, and also just because she likes the style

She didn't like Rose's overly posh way of wording things at first(so pretentious), but they quickly clicked over shared interests in goth culture and the paranormal unknown, Cindy cares about her greatly and comforted her through the hardships Rose had to endure

Cindy didn't know what to think of Jade's strangeness and, quite frankly, didn't like her vibes at first, but warmed up to her greatly with time and really sympathized with her, Cindy really believes Jade deserves so much better, and is determined to let her know they care

John was very intimidated by Cindy at first, and Cindy assumed he just didn't like her, so she acted more coldly towards him, and it continued to be like that for a pretty awkwardly long time, but of course his dorkiness hooked her up quick, as it did his other friends, and they slowly but surely became very close; Cynthia became very protective of Egbert fast

Cindy always tries to put in work into her friendships, as she naturally doesn't want to be alone again, but also because she doesn't want her friends to feel left out or ignored, cause she knows what it's like

Which also seems like overcompensation, as she feels like she's not the best person to be around, so she tries to be helpful, even when she no longer has any mental resources for that

She had no clue about what kind of game Sburb even was, and she definitely didn't have time to ask when meteors suddenly started raining from the sky

No fucking way was she going to die if she could help it, so she fought for her and her friends' lives with all she had

How was she able to godtier and whatnot without entering the game? Beats me, you're asking as if I should know and write some good explanation for it and make it make sense🙄🙄💅 I just wanna play touoys, hope you understand💓

Cindy started questioning her identity along the way of their adventures on the meteor, and started using she/they/him pronouns

If I had to write about her relationships with all of the trolls we'd be here all day, so let me just point out the most relevant things here <3

Gamzee had a pitch crush on her, and they entertained the idea for a while, but she quickly recoiled from that when Gamzee, uh, started doing Stuff. She actively maintains friendships with Aradia, Kanaya, and Tavros, and is on good terms with Terezi, Sollux, and Nepeta. It's a bit more complicated with the others, though.. Their relationship with Karkat was very murky and tense at first, she wasn't having his bullshit, but he grew on them with time, when Cindy realized they both have similar goals and wants. She can't tolerate Eridan's bullshit and mostly avoids him, doesn't like Equius for his attitude and hates him for what he did to Aradia, Feferi.. well, they just can't find a common ground, especially because Feferi's royalty, and Cindy holds no respect for them. And Vriska.. he justifiably doesn't like her, at all, but is somewhat sympathetic of her issues.

She is a Page of Blood, and their journey of self-realization had to teach him that she can't win and please them all, that they can be their true self around her friends, and that he can also depend on others for help when she needs it

She learned to make chains from blood, his or otherwise, and use them in battle, and at their highest potential she can bind someone's body to another's and adjust what it means according to situation.

You're badly injured and there's no one else to help in sight? She can bind your body to hers and share their life essence with you, practically making it so you both share an internal system, and if she's healthy enough, then you'll be too in a second

He can drain someone's blood and give it to another if they need it, she can solidify blood inside someone's veins to make it hard to move

She can make a dying person's heart beat via a blood bind, but it's very draining for her and can be quite deadly if done hastily and improperly, and he can't do it when a body already went cold, at least they didn't learn how to, maybe with enough conviction and training she could one day🤔

Maybe with time she found even more uses and possibilities for her chains

She's a great motivator, especially if it's his friends that need morale, they always have their friends' backs

She's not a fan of being a leader, but can be if the situation calls for it

Overall, Cynthia is a person with an intimidating exterior, and warm and genuine interior!🥹

Here's the ref with both the casual fit and the godtier pajamas in full color👇

[solaslow74]

greetings, people of earth!! it is i, sola, newcomer to the our life community and to the platform, doing what everyone knows is the first step to integrating into an online fandom: oversharing identifying information about my children!!

my olnf children, of course! i’ve been cooking up some short fanfics starring these mcs of mine for the upcoming olnf week, and thought this month or so leading up to it would be a good time to introduce them!

so let’s take a walk along the street, and i promise everybody that you meet, will have an original point of view:

And in this corner of the ring, we have Soleil Bridgeford!

She’s cheerful, she’s energetic, she’s set on becoming the best her she can be! As the protagonist of most other video games, she’d be using the power of friendship and hitting things really hard to save the world or something; but as fate would have it, in this story, she’s just an ordinary kid in the peaceful town of Golden Grove.

But that’s not gonna stop her from being The Hero™! She’s gonna give this town her all, being EVERYONE’S friend and solving EVERYONE’S problems, especially when it comes to her two precious neighbors.

Of course, Soleil’s gonna have to learn that sometimes, handling personal struggles and the ups and downs of friendships is something you can’t always approach with the force and subtlety of a charging bull. And what her neighbors really need from her isn’t a superhero- just Soleil as she is.

Soleil loves sports, food, and all things “awesome”, but as she gets older, she develops a bit more nuance to her tastes, as well. She’ll find that her endless passion can be suited to more pursuits than just the physical.

Though her childhood crush on the cool and confident Qiu Lin fades as her neighbor grows harsh and distant in their teen years, who’s to say what sorts of feelings might blossom as the two grow into adulthood? But one thing’s for sure- no matter how much changes, Soleil’s gonna be there for her friends.

but, moving on… what good is the strong female MC without the pathetic male MC?

That’s where Rowan Cordovi comes in, of course.

Full of himself and with an utter lack of self-awareness, Rowan thinks he’s God’s gift to Golden Grove. But even if he sees himself as the star of the show, he’s more than happy to welcome in co-stars. After all, it’s not as if others can’t be amazing- it’s just that he already is!

While he works hard in the hobbies he loves- music and theater most of all- Rowan is more than content to take it easy in most other areas of his life. After all, once his natural talent and beauty is recognized, the success, friends, and admirers are sure to roll in. They haven’t yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Surely.

Golden Grove might be a little too slow and quaint for this rising star, but that doesn’t mean it’s all bad. After all, since the first day he met his neighbors, Rowan has known that they’re special. That magic between them can only be one thing, Rowan’s favorite part of the fairy-tale stories he’s fond of. That’s true love, baby! And you can bet he’s gonna get a good grade in romance, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

Rowan has a long ways to go. It’s a good thing he’s got people around him who are gonna help him grow into a more well-rounded adult. But until then- watch out, Golden Grove!

and… those are my first two mc’s! i have seven in total, which is perfect for the seven days of prompts for olnf week, but starting with just two seems appropriate. you’re already awesome if you read through both of these! i’ll probably post about the remaining five in sets of two and three sometime soon!

feel free to ask any questions, or tell me all about your characters! (and also kindly let me know if i made any first-time tumblr gaffes, this is my first ever post!) i know plenty of you are just as normal about your olnf mc’s as i am about mine, so let’s all be normal together >:)

[cloudypinkblink]

yo here is a fun headcanon i have that you might like

ex delinquent Sayuri, Satsuma knows about it and knows she can easily beat him up

masaru and chika are unaware about it and just think that their mom was in some kind of school club that involve fighting or something

This energized me for the day, so please have these doodles and a new AU/personal HC

So this is the Sayuri ex-Deliquent thing; my personal little HC for it is that she and Satsuma are actually childhood friends (neighbors, probably) and that Sayuri and Suguru met in school, and clashed heads (a lot like our two beloved boys in the modern era....) (thie little chibis of the main trio represent their mirror for the back in time AU trio) Rentarou (calling him by first name feels sacrilegious, but it feels even weirder if I don't bc I refer to the other two by first name LMAO) does have a crush on Sayuri, but it's the type of thing that passes/is dealt with as they get older, bc he respects her and Suguru. He is very very much the one that kinda reigns them both in, but also gets dragged along. Suguru is a doctor, which is why he's being deligated Smartie Pants role; after all, Touma is a genius but also loves to box and isn't a weakling, so I figure Suguru is similar. Suyuri is very rambunctious; I think she's not only a regular delinquent, but definitely one of those girls that don't want to be looked down on for being a girl. So she likes to be tough and fight like the boys, and she doesn't take it well when someone (coughcough Suguru coughcough) criticizes her because he means well- the only person she kinda listens to is Rentarou, because he's her childhood friend. Suguru is fairly polite, actually; he's not an overly violent guy and while strong and athletic, has a more passive personality where he tries to solve things with words. It's Sayuri that later changes that mindset a bit, and gets him to enjoy and see the merits of talking with one's fists LMAO (so a good influence!). Rentarou comes from a strict, law enforcement family and he is under a lot of pressure to do good; his family isn't fond of Sayuri given her delinquency, but they're friends and there is no stopping that. He often feels more refreshed and encouraged after spending time with her, which is one of the reasons he develops a crush on her. Suguru and Sayuri try to avoid each other, and get into fights and arguments nearly any time they DO see each other- but then they keep getting into silly shenanigans (with poor Rentarou dragged along one way or another) I kinda want them to find out abt Digimon around this time, but I'll delve into it later.

Sayuri is a little embarassed about her past? She was quite a bit worse than Masaru; yes he gets into street fights but he's also good about chores, caring for his sister and trying to do right by her- he doesn't skip as much school as she had, and usually she can find a valid reason why. Embarassment aside, she wasn't going to let Masaru tackle the world without knowing proper technique, and Suguru left too early to really teach him (but late enough to get him riled up, and you know Sayuri gave him an earful abt that when he came back LOL) She lets her kids believe whatever, not really ready to tell them she was a wild child herself. (Chika later finds out; Masaru does not and Chika is both excited she knows something Masaru doesn't know, but sad she can't share her findings, given they theorized about it) Sayuri of course chilled out and became softer as she got older, but it was mostly when she got her kids that she really calmed down. She wanted to be someone that they could tell mistakes to, who they could be honest with, etc etc., But when Masaru or Chika get out of line, there's a certain edge to her voice that definitely has their backs straightening. This is a really fun AU and I bet you weren't expecting me to want to delve into it but I 10/10 will. This is gripping me by the THROAT what have you DONE to me.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

What's your relationship with Tamarack's family like?

I get along really well with Tamarack's grandparents.

Honestly, it would be harder not to all things considered! We're neighbors and spend so much time together so a good chunk of my time is spent at the Baumann's next door.

Grandpa Baumann is a lot like my own grandfather on Mom1's side irl, so it's easy for me to get along with him and his silent kindness. And I love eating Grandma Baumann's snacks in her drawing room and having our tea parties. It's pretty obvious to her grandparents that we adore each other but they think of it more as puppy love that the two of us will grow out of as we get older (little do they know).

I feel like Gramps is the one who realizes first that it's more than just a puppy love phase though. Granny, it takes a bit before she comes to the same conclusion as her husband.

As for Frederick and Nichole, that one is a bit harder to answer.

From a gameplay standpoint, I can acknowledge they are people that are trying their best but their trying their best led to them being less than stellar parents. So I want to see them rekindle that bridge with the grandparents and with their own daughter.

But within the context of the self-ship, my relationship with Tamarack's parents is rocky. They were a lot more intimidating as elementary schoolers when the reality of how Tamarack's life in Golden Grove was supposed to be temporary hit, become more like unstable anomalies as we get older. We don't know what's going on in their heads and it makes it really hard to get along with them.

That's also part of the reason why I have a hard time telling Tamarack that I like her, not just because I can't tell how she feels about me. Do I tell her if she potentially moves during freshman year? Or should I just keep my mouth shut? Eventually the desire of 'rejection is better than regret' comes ahead full force though.

Once we interact more with them when the game comes out, it'll be easy to figure out how I interact with her parents. So for now I have a tentative, as long as they treat me with respect, I treat them with respect as far as Step 2 interactions go. It doesn't matter if you're a kid, you're a living being and you deserve respect. I'll be relatively polite for Tamarack's sake but if they ever make her upset, that might go out the window.

If I'm too volatile and hostile, I'm afraid they'll think I'm a bad influence on their daughter and not want us to be friends anymore. I don't think that would happen because Granny and Gramps would come to fucking bat for me but then I'd wonder if that would become an argument that would solidify Tam's parents taking her back to live with them.

While Granny and Gramps eventually come to the realization that it isn't just puppy love we'll grow out of any time soon, Tam's parents are logical. They're scientists. And they also weren't there to see us grow up together and don't have a tenth of a shred of attachment to me as Frederick's parents do.

I'm assuming that by Step 3, we'll get along a lot better though. Around then they'll probably see how much we care for each other since we'll definitely dating by that time... still feel like they'd be the type of parents to potentially go 'you shouldn't go to uni with a girlfriend, either of you, a lot can happen' but then maybe the nostalgia comes out.

They met and fell in love during college even despite Granny's less than pleasant opinion of Nichole. In a way, I think Tamarack and I will eventually remind her parents of each other and they'll trust our decisions with our relationship. Sure it's a little different, we grew up together. But we are each other's choice and that's something they can respect.

What I can definitely say though is that I think Tamarack's parents are really pretty. Like holy shit, everyone in her family clearly won the genetics war, Tam included. It's something I definitely tell Serenity and Vianca if they ever ask about her parents. I'll skirt around the heavy stuff and just go "they won in genes. That family does not believe in ugly".

[bygracealonegirly]

The anniversary of my brother's death is coming up, and 3 years later I'm shocked at how the grief can creep up and swallow me still. If I think about him more than in passing I still weep. I'm still overwhelmed by the absence of his belly laugh and mischievous grin. I still feel rage creep up when I think about how unfair it all is; his 3 young children were too small to have personal memories of him, and must subsist on what we show and tell them. His beloved wife only got 5 years with him total - some people get 60. Our view into God's plan is so narrow, I know, I really do, but still, why him?

CJ was something else. A real gen-u-ine cowboy. Tough hands, crinkly eyes, and an ever present grin. Quite the dancer. A heck of a card player. An even better choir singer. He was never short on jokes or belly laughs. The best darn bow hunting partner I'll ever have. And gosh he loved his wife; the sun rose and set on her from the moment they memorably met (she slapped his rear end on a dare during a rodeo and told him to quote "giddy up cowboy"; they were wed 18 months later). He was an incredibly doting father who insisted on doing the late night feedings because work kept him so busy in the daytime. And most of all he was a true Christian who shared God's Word with most anyone who would listen and loved his neighbors.

Every year I approach being older than he ever was. 24 years and 18 days, 6 hours and 32 minutes (I'm sure Mama knows the seconds.) It's unnatural to grow older than your big brother, and each of us younger siblings marches toward it; my sister surpassed him recently and fell into hysterics once she realized. The clock now looms over me like the shadow of death itself.

It was a farm accident. A freak thing. Everyone tried their best to save him; first his wife, then the neighbors, then local EMTs, a flight nurse and a paramedic, countless nurses and doctors and specialists from The Big City. They all wept with us as he took his final breaths, surrounded by more people than the hospital was technically supposed to let in. It took him an excruciatingly long time to pass on once support was pulled, and his heart only finally slowed and stopped when his wife assured him "I've got this CJ, don't worry, I've got the kids and the cows, you go on home now".

I can't even type that without shaking.

I hardly knew her before they wed, and not much more before he passed away. She became much more than the mother of my nieces in the wake of his death; she's well and truly one of the strongest people I know, and a true sister to me. I'll never be able to thank her enough for giving him peace enough to let go in his final moments. She's not much of a dancer or a card player, and she can't so much as hit the side of a broad barn with a bow, but I like singing with her in church, and she's helping me learn to quilt now.

I read somewhere that grief is just love with no place to go. So tonight as my throat aches with thoughts of CJ, I'll pour out some of this love. Into my dogs, my horses, my plants, my nieces, my sister-in-law, my sister-in-law's new boyfriend, and God, who I know is in control and has a Plan, who has overcome the grave, and whose will I submit to even if at this moment it's painful. Because I know He keeps His promises.

"I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:

And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die."

Ride on Cowboy, see you on the other side 💙

[goatswithtoast]

Atla x Ninjago

I am so surprised by the small number of Avatar and Ninjago AUs/Crossovers, genuinely thought there'd be loads more, so I thought of my own :D

(Now, this isn't going to follow the Avatar story really, but the Fire Nation still attacked because they had their whole industrial revolution. They're still feared by the other nations and the people are still against anything Fire Nation. Does an Airbender genocide happen? Not to the same extent anyways. Maybe the same way the southern pole was attacked, the Fire Nation focused on only two temples or something. Speaking of the poles, they were left mostly untouched with only a few attacks ever happening)

I'll start in the fire nation. A fire bender met a water bender in the Earth Kingdom and they fell in love. They lived in the Fire Nation and had two kids. They were delighted when Kai started bending, Ray told the whole neighborhood. Nya, being three years old, wanted to make fire too. She was told she could start bending when she got to Kai's age. And on one hot summer's day the next year, she bent water.

Her family was delighted. Maya made her best chewy cookies. Ray did not shut up about it for weeks, he just Had to say how proud he was every time he saw her. Six year old Kai was utterly delighted that he now had someone new to play fight with! Their parents, however, were quick to stop them. No one could see Nya water bending. If she wanted to bend, she had to stick to small things in the house, watering the plants, washing the dishes or making shapes of animals or people to go along with stories, like Maya does at bedtime.

(Kai always wanted to make the funny shapes, but when he got his dad to teach him they could never make them look as friendly with all the sharp edges of their flames.)

They end up moving house quite a few times due to neighbors hearing "excessive splashing" (and Kai shouting in protest every time it so happened to be dumped on him) from their yard. You couldn't keep Nya Smith inside doing baby shapes. Not when Kai got to practice out in the open all day if he wanted to. Not when Kai got to go to a special class after school to get better. She loved her brother, but it just wasn't fair.

Shortly after Nya's eleventh birthday they moved again. But it'd be different this time. They'd be going to the South Pole to learn water bending properly. But they'd be leaving Ray and Kai behind. It certainly wasn't their first choice, but it was the best one they could think of. They couldn't just stop Nya from bending all her life, that'd be cruelty. So they organized the trip, said their goodbyes, and set off.

The first thing they did once they arrived was buy Nya a couple of parkas. She was absolutely frozen. She may be a water bender, but she grew up in the fire nation. The next order of business was to find a teacher. Maya said she had gotten a bit rusty and that it'd be better to find a master anyways. Luckily for them, the local master was available. Sorla was impressed by their story and agreed to teach Nya water bending. Nya already had the basics and learned the more advanced moves very quickly, surpassing older students

(AAAAAAA I had so much more written but it just didn't save.)

Everything Nya learned, she learned to perfection. So she was getting really annoyed with Sorla making her stop everything for a day and focus on Ice. Nya did not get ice. She couldn't understand it. She couldn't bend it, it was solid. It was stubborn, like her, and refused to listen to her.

Besides, who cared if Nya could bend ice or not?! She's good at everything else, why does she have to be good at making ice cubes! She'll just make up for it with her Water bending, she's one of the best at that! Luckily for her, she'll have a new friend soon enough who'll have her back.

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

Zane Julien was born and raised in the South Pole by his father Dr. Julien. While he has the title Doctor, he's no healer. He makes gadgets for the town to help in their daily lives. He's a friendly man but he keeps mostly to himself up in his house with his son.

When Zane started bending, Dr. Julien was delighted with him. He set out to find the best teacher that very day. He found an old friend, who had left for the Earth Kingdom years ago, had returned and started teaching "specialized bending". Zane got started with him a couple of days later.

When this teacher started to teach Zane the basics of water bending, Zane was having quite a bit of trouble. He couldn't understand the flow of water, a slight obstacle in the way of learning water bending. His form was stiff and any water he did bend was choppy. His teacher decided to give ice a try before giving up on him. He was so glad he did.

Zane took to ice bending like a turtleduck to water, mastering every move he was taught and sculpting any object asked for in seconds. Need ice in a drink? Odd request for the South Pole but Zane's got you. Need a chair? Zane has your back. Need an ice spike to spear the heart of your enemy? You've lost him. Zane will use every defensive move he knows before ever attempting to go offense. He will always fight for those close to him and protect them with his life.

Zane eventually became known in the outskirts of town as the Ice Guy. Few knew of his inability to actually bend water, but all respected his skill. Any curious children who haven't quite got the hang of certain techniques can always be sure that Zane will help in any way he can. Any non-benders who just want to see some cool tricks always go home with a sculpture of their favorite animal.

Once, while making the trip into town to get the weekly shopping, Zane hears many frustrated shouts come from a clearing. Always the curious type, he goes toward the sound to see what the problem is. He finds a young girl punching a tree and an older woman watching her, waiting patiently for her to calm down.

"I don't know why you still make me do this!" The young girl groaned. The woman bowed her head like she was preparing for a rant she had heard many times before. "I'll never need to use ice if I'm already a Master Waterbender! No one even cares about ice, I don't, this tree doesn't and I'm sure that man over there doesn't!" She pointed at Zane, who was very surprised to be roped into this argument. The girl growled and started punching the tree again while the woman gave Zane a small smile. "Don't mind her, she can get quite mad sometimes."

"I actually do care about ice" Zane said. Nya paused and turned towards him. "I wasn't asking you, I just said it because you were standing there!" Zane made an 'o' with his mouth in understanding. "Why do you even care about ice?" Nya asked as she walked up to him. "It's a frozen block of water that doesn't move, you can't do anything with it!"

Zane thought about it a moment before giving his answer. Would he really entrust this information with this girl he just met? "Because I cannot bend anything else." Apparently he will. Nya gave him a funny look. "You can bend ice... and nothing else? Not even water?" Zane shook his head. "Water never really came to me, even when I sought it out. It was only from pure boredom my teacher even tried ice."

"You can't be a waterbender then," Sorla said. "We'll have to call you an Icebender." A small smile came to her face with her suggestion. Nya rolled her eyes, still in her bad mood. "There's no such thing as an 'icebender' Master Sorla, he's still a waterbender." "But I cannot bend water, just ice" Zane reminded her "I could show you a few simple moves if you'd like." Nya just huffed and crossed her arms. "Come back tomorrow," Sorla suggested. "She might be more agreeable after a nights rest."

Zane agreed and left to go get the shopping, but not before asking Nya her favorite animal.

Nya arrived home with a sculpture of a badgerfrog that looked like the sculptor only had a vague idea of what the animal was.

>Part 1 (Nya, Zane +Kai) | Part 2 (Lloyd) | Part 2.5 (Morro) | Part 3 (Meetup) | Part 4 (Cole) |

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Never Met a Duke Like You by Amalie Howard

4.25/5. Releases 11/14/2023.

Vibes: childhood best friends to enemies (Iite) to lovers, nerd in the streets freak in the sheets, actual factual social issues, and a very good cat/kitty joke.

This is a retelling of Clueless, which is a retelling of Emma, which in theory sounds very messy but ultimately worked out in a historical romcom I really liked. It touches on some serious problems of the time (heads up: a lot of discussion of asylums and their abuses) and there's a great chemistry between our leads. She's a flighty eye-catching popular type, he wants to hunt for dinosaur bones, and they haven't seen each other for years but have been building up to this since childhood. It's a good mix.

Quick Takes:

--I was honestly a little "why do we need this" when I first understood the concept. Yes, the previous book in the series, Always Be My Duchess, is a retelling of Pretty Woman, which is a retelling of My Fairy Lady (and MFL is a retelling of Pygmalion). But Emma is an Austen novel, and such a clear precursor to historical romance subgenre of today. I was a little worried about how that would work.

But here's the thing. Clueless is very much not a direct retelling of Emma, and you change a lot in the Emma/Knightley dynamic when you switch it up from a girl and her neighbor/friend who's like 17 years her senior and held her when she was a baby, to a girl and her somewhat older former stepbrother (no shade, Emma is my favorite Austen and I adore Clueless). If you like Cher and Josh, that's the sweet spot Vesper and Aspen hit. It's very much that sequence in The Swan Princess wherein Derek and Odette bug each other as kids, then realize as adults that they wanna bang it out--but with a bit more of a friendship slant. In the childhood days. When they're adults, there's an edge added by their years of separation and misunderstandings. And I'll admit, I eat a "childhood friends separated and reunited as adults" dynamic right up. If that's your itch, this book will definitely scratch it.

--Aspen is really into DINOSAURS, and I personally loved that angle. He was nerdy enough for me to call him a nerdy hero (and Vesper does love his glasses) but he wasn't a cliche nerdy hero. Yes, he loves to look at fossils and discourse over prehistoric creatures, but he's also confident, snarky, and quite prone to putting it down. Honestly, I arguably could've used more dinosaur content (though Howard definitely uses it at just the right moment).

--A big part of this book is mental illness and the absolutely horrible was in which it was addressed at this point in time. Aspen's father was confined to an asylum and abused in that asylum--exactly how that happened is a major point in the book. Additionally, its specter hangs over Aspen's head, his father's "diagnosis" (I hesitate to call it legitimate) a potential means through which his own committal could be justified. It's rough, dude.

And I will say, I suspect that some readers will be dissatisfied with the comeuppance the villain of this book receives. For me, it worked--because it was realistic, and because I really couldn't think of any way through which the issue could be resolved without taking away from Aspen and Vesper's relationship. The point of this story isn't really punishing the bad guy--it's making it so Aspen and Vesper can have a healthy relationship without this threat in the midst of it all.

As an added note, Vesper has ADHD, which isn't a massive part of the novel but does figure into her character and journey. I thought it was a nice touch--people with ADHD didn't just suddenly pop into existence in the twentieth century, and the rep is good to see.

--The thing I really liked about Aspen and Vesper's dynamic is that there really was this undercurrent of childlike... knowledge, and playfulness. They've changed a lot, and there are a lot of confused feelings between them; but you still get the sense that at one point, these people really knew each other. And that sense of knowing and affection remains.

I also really loved the moments when the childhood besties jumped out--there's a teasing vibe to the relationship, this sense that they kind of want to kiss each other and kind of want to poke each other (non-sexually). It makes the tone of the book a bit bubblier, which is key, I think, when you're dealing with subject matter as dark as Aspen's backstory could be.

The Sex:

It's hot. These two have a very clear physical connection, and it's immediately noticeable. You get a lot of double entendres in this book, a lot of teasing that goes just over the line--like when Aspen casually tells Vesper she looks like she's just had an orgasm in public. Very normal thing to say to the former childhood friend you're not interested in! At all!

One sex scene in particular was so delightful--the perfect mixture of hot and funny, which sums up the tone of the book pretty well. I mean, this dude is really about his fossils, and they definitely play into the... plot. More than you might think. (Not in that way, in THAT way. Don't worry about it. Read the book.)

Frothy yet not without substance, Never Met a Duke Like You is another enjoyable entry from Amalie Howard. If I'm being real, I think I liked it a bit more than Always Be My Duchess (also a good book). Would recommend!

Thanks to Netgalley and Forever for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[raionmimi]

I love your art of Setanta and Medb Lily, is there any evidence of them actually being childhood friends in the Ulster Cycle?

Short answer: Not exactly, it was just me piecing together timelines that are extremely vague and plot points that would make way more sense if fleshed out more. So I started making comics based on my childhood and kids I know for a surreal idealization that would be the catalyst for their problems when they fight in the war

Long Answer:

All that I know is that Fergus is 20-ish years older than Conchobar. Conchobar is older than Medb, who would have to have been in the 10~16 range and been officially married at 15-16. (I’m assuming she’d be about 17-18 when divorced because she was forced to bear an heir) Cú was 5 when he came to Ulster and about 7-10 when he left, but it’s never mentioned that the two talked to each other at that time since it’s not relevant to the story

But it would make sense that they met considering their relationship to Conchobar, who was Medb’s betrothed and Cu’s uncle. Even further, Cu’s warp spasm when he was 7 was stopped by Mugain, who was Medb’s sister. Meaning, Medb was probably there when it occurred, but there wasn’t a reason to mention her

Then in one story, Cú and his friends decide to get Medb and Ailill to be judges for their “Who’s the best warrior” competition. They figured they’d be the most fair, but this was prior to the war. How would they be familiar with the Connacht rulers since Cú doesn’t really spend much time with official political shenanigans? All three had to have known of Medb and Ailill before this event. Since Medb often hosted people from other kingdoms, namely Ulster, they probably have all visited her nation before

It all kind of leads back to Cú knowing Medb personally, which could give more emphasis and weight as to why he listened to all her demands/schemes and refused to harm/fight her in the war. It’s unknown if he knew what abuse was happening to her when she was married to his uncle or what his uncle did to her after they got divorced. BUT we do know his uncle directly confronted Cú and demanded him to kill Medb, and Cú said he refused to his face

Then you have Fate’s interpretation. Medb is treated more like a troublesome neighbor rather than a threat. Cú lets her off with a slap on the wrist more than anything. He tells you in a voiceline that Medb is one of the women he broke a promise to so he wants to be more reliable this time. Fate has never mentioned what promise he made Medb, even though you can guess what he probs promised Emer, Scathach, and maybe Morrigan. Medb says she wants to dominate Cú but she never does much to actually do that because there’s some invisible line drawn that she herself put down

In my brain, it makes sense that there is something connecting the two with an unsaid past. One that drives Medb to having mixed feelings about Cú (both hating him but not being able to leave him alone) and Cú to feeling like he has to be there for Medb. Something that neither really wants to talk too much about, and especially not with each other

The easiest connection would be them being friends at a young age when they met in the Ulster kingdom. They’re both lowkey unwelcomed as Conchobar abuses Medb for her refusal to yield to him, and he didn’t even want Setanta to join his army at first. He kind of hates and fears both of them. Makes sense for them to just be regular kids together to set up the dynamic change for later.

A shattered friendship is one of the most devastating things that could happen to a child growing up, and could easily warp to an obsessive hatred and lingering guilt. Leads to feelings like “You betrayed me,” “Why didn’t you take me with you?” or “I wasn’t there for you, I need to make up for it.”

I like tragicomedies a lot, so I think it’s the best foundation for both causing and healing the severe rift between them when they’re older

So no, there’s no actual source material that would outright say that they’re childhood friends, it’s just something that would make the most amount of sense when you go back and align the dots. At least to me in my brain