#like… I tried about a week ago to make the plan but they haven’t gotten back to me and like??? don’t think it’s bc they don’t wanna hang

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 10: porch swing

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You visited your mother frequently at the sanatorium, as it had been a tough blow to accept that you had to make a life without her. Senile dementia, they said, likely caused by a combination of other illnesses, but that was what it was in the end.

You tried to spend as much time as possible during those visits because, even though you knew she was better cared for there, you didn’t want her to think you had abandoned her. Fortunately (in some way), your mother had found an old friend there, none other than Mrs. Diana Reid. It had been years since you’d seen her, and you felt guilty thinking about how poorly you and her son had communicated, to the point that you never knew her schizophrenia had escalated to the extent that she had to be placed there.

The two elderly women had their good and bad days, but overall, your mother enjoyed the literature workshops Diana taught, and Diana, in turn, loved watching your mother knit. She had even learned to make a few things, including a purple scarf meant for her son, whom you hadn’t seen there even once since your mother began living there.

Diana often talked to you about him, telling you things he mentioned in his letters, and all you could do was feel touched. Once upon a time, when the world was simpler and you were younger, you had a bit of a soft spot for the boy, without realizing that what you felt was called love. It was a childish thing, even silly, you could say, but you often found yourself smiling when you thought of him, and you never wanted to spend the day with anyone else, making him stay at your house until late at night, ending in a sleepover.

You had always been more daring and carefree, so you often showed up with new cuts and bruises. He, so calm and proper, always tried to dissuade you from your impulsive plans, but in the end, he joined in, claiming he only did it to look after you. Climbing trees, hunting for bugs, and looking for trouble were the things your childhood was filled with. And for a sickly, fearful boy like Spencer, those adventures were incredible experiences.

One of those weekends when you could visit your mother, you noticed that you couldn’t see Diana anywhere. You assumed she was in a consultation or busy with other activities, but after a couple of hours without any sign of her, you started to worry.

“Excuse me, is Mrs. Reid okay?” you hoped she hadn’t had any health complications or suffered any incident. “I just… I haven’t seen her today.”

“Diana? Apparently, her son requested permission to transfer her to stay with him a few days ago. But as far as I know, she’s fine, miss.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” you replied with relief. “I was afraid she had gotten worse. My mother and she are friends, so I was worried. About both of them, of course.”

“Don’t worry, she’s in good hands,” the nurse reassured you, slightly moved by your concern. “Has your mother been improving?”

Following that question, the two of you started chatting, and the matter of your mother’s friend was forgotten, at least for that day. Work and other activities kept your mind busy until your next visit to the sanatorium, nearly a week later. You decided to buy flowers for your mother so she could decorate the nightstand next to her bed, along with some pastries to share.

However, it was a huge surprise when you arrived at the courtyard area (where the nurse had told you she was) and saw her sitting at one of the tables, accompanied by Diana Reid and another person you could only see from behind—a head of messy, golden hair.

A strange feeling grew as you approached, one you couldn’t identify until you heard the voice of the stranger. It had become deeper, of course, but it was still the same voice.

“Spencer?”

The man nearly fell out of his chair when he saw you, looking as pale as if he had seen a ghost and equally shocked by your appearance. You thought it was probably silly of him to think he wouldn’t run into you there, but you still found it endearing. His features had definitely changed, making him more of a man and less of the shy boy you had known.

“My dear!” your mother murmured, visibly excited. “Look who came to visit.”

He wasted no time, standing up fully and wrapping you in a happy hug. At first, he feared you might pull away from the contact, but that fear disappeared when you enthusiastically returned the greeting.

“I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too! My mom and your mom have been keeping me up to date,” he laughed playfully. His body felt so soft against yours, giving you an inexplicable sense of security.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice that your mother and Mrs. Reid were looking at each other with complicity, as if they were hiding a secret.

“I brought, uh… something to eat. We can share it.”

Spencer found another chair and placed it next to him so you could sit down, inviting you into the conversation he had been having with the women, which you found fascinating. Every now and then, you would discreetly glance at him and try to get him to talk as much as possible. Although you already knew some things from Diana, chatting with your old friend felt refreshing.

It was uplifting to see both women so calm, and the extra company was so pleasant that the hours passed by like minutes. The afternoon had already turned into evening when you said your goodbyes to your mothers, and as you walked out of the sanatorium, you and Spencer stood there looking at each other for a moment.

Without Diana or your mother there, you both seemed too shy to start speaking, unsure of what to say.

"Did you come by car?"

“No, I was planning on calling a cab to get to the airport.”

“Oh, are you leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of heading back today. I mean… I didn’t expect to see anyone, so…”

“I completely understand! Don’t worry. You probably have other commitments, I don’t want to take up your time.”

“No, actually I bought a ticket for an open flight. So I can take it whenever I want.”

That information carried an implicit invitation, discreet enough that if you squinted, you might miss it, and you didn’t hesitate for a second before speaking.

“You could come over to my place, if you want. Have a drink, dinner, or whatever you’d like. You know, for old times’ sake.”

He immediately smiled, pleased that you had invited him, as he didn’t want to be presumptuous by suggesting spending more time together. After all, he didn’t know if you were as excited about seeing each other as he was.

Spencer happily accepted, and then you guided him to your car, where you set off. You had tried to find a sanatorium close to your house, in case of an emergency, so it only took a few minutes to arrive.

The house, still very familiar to Spencer, was where your mother, your late father, and you had lived most of your life. Now, it looked renewed, as if you had recently painted it, exuding that feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

“It’s still there,” Spencer noted as he glanced at the porch.

Many years ago, when you were children, during the summer heat, you loved sitting on the wooden swing there to eat ice cream in amounts that were probably unhealthy for kids. Apparently, this memory was a fond one for your friend, as he smiled at the sight.

“A while back, we hired someone to varnish and reinforce it. So I guess we could sit here. Like before, huh?”

“Sure,” he murmured, excited by the idea.

You went inside, and once you set down your things, you headed to the fridge to take out some cheese, cold cuts, and crackers you had recently bought, all to pair with a bottle of wine you had been gifted for your birthday.

“I don’t like drinking alone,” you confessed as he helped you carry the tray of food “It depresses me.”

You heard him chuckle as the two of you stepped outside. Night had already fallen over the city, so you turned on the soft, warm light that illuminated the porch and took a seat, with him joining you soon after.

For a moment, once again, neither of you knew what to say. You simply swayed slightly, as if trying to make an idea come to mind, but you decided the best way to break the silence was to pour a couple of glasses. After a while, the wine seemed to make everything lighter, and the two of you began to talk about whatever came to mind.

It was an intimate conversation, almost in whispers, and at one point, you made a silly joke that caused your bodies to lean toward each other by instinct. Your cheeks were already flushed from the wine, not enough to make you lose consciousness but enough to give you a feeling of lightness and confidence.

“Can I confess something?” you suddenly said, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“When I was a kid…” you began, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. But after a second of silence, it no longer seemed like such a good idea. “You know what? Forget it. It’s absurd.”

“No! Tell me,” he urged, thinking you were about to share some kind of embarrassing secret.

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“But promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“I won’t,” he insisted, smiling at you sweetly and giving your arm a gentle squeeze, as if encouraging you. “Tell me.”

You inhaled, then exhaled. And before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out.

“Well, years ago, when we were friends… I mean, I guess we’re still friends, but… I don’t know, I had this huge crush on you. I thought you were so cute and sweet with your big glasses and protective attitude. You never said no to me,” you sighed, reminiscing. “And it’s funny now, I think. To think that I was in love with you when we were kids.”

Reid just watched you, like he would study a puzzle he didn’t quite understand. He seemed… confused? You hoped he wasn’t mad, of course. And suddenly, you felt foolish for having brought it up, thinking you had completely ruined the atmosphere, making it tense and awkward.

Still, you said nothing. You were embarrassed, but at least your consolation was that Spencer wouldn’t be there the next morning to face the consequences.

“Are you kidding?”

“Why would I joke about that?” you exclaimed, hurt when he finally decided to speak. You weren’t looking at him. “It’s just a childish thing, Spencer. I thought it would be funny, but I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just something silly, okay? Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“Were you really in love with me?” he asked, incredulous at the idea and ignoring what you had just said.

“Yes! But like I said, it was years ago…”

“Oh,” he exhaled, sounding almost disappointed. That’s when you looked at him, and it wasn’t hard for you to read him: he was nervous. “Yeah, I guess that was a long time ago, right? We haven’t seen each other in years and… yeah, you’re right. It’s funny.”

There was something off in his words. He sounded deflated, more like some illusion had been broken rather than being upset by what you had said.

Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your judgment, maybe it was the way his hands were fidgeting in his lap, or perhaps even the sad expression that had appeared on his face, but suddenly everything about him seemed to scream one thing. It was as if he were calling out to you, saying: kiss me.

And, impulsively, you did.

It would have been wise to stop after the first kiss, just to check if he was comfortable with it and that you weren’t overstepping. But you didn’t have the willpower to stop. You needed to kiss Spencer.

You kissed him again, and then again, and it wasn’t until that moment that he seemed to snap out of the shock he was in, returning the kiss passionately. Suddenly, you were both completely swept up at the moment, feeling as if kissing each other was essential to moving forward; like it was something you should have been doing for years, not just right then.

“I’m sorry…” he exhaled suddenly, as his hand moved to your waist to pull you closer. “Is this okay?”

“It is,” you nodded immediately, feeling breathless. One of your hands went up to gently brush his hair back. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, almost as if delirious. His eyes had closed, and he looked like he was suffering.

“You kissed me,” he murmured, as if he needed to say it out loud to believe it. “I feel like my heart’s going to burst out of my chest.”

Your fear vanished when you heard him say that, and encouraged by his reaction, you leaned in to kiss him again. However, after a few more kisses, he stopped you.

“Will you visit me?”

“Huh?”

“Will you visit me? When I go back to DC?”

His question puzzled you since you didn’t think it was something he’d ask in the middle of all that.

“I guess… yeah. If you want me there, I could visit someday.”

“You’re not just going to kiss me, and then we’ll forget this ever happened?”

“Do you want that?”

“No,” he sighed shakily. His thumb traced your lips gently as he held your face in his hand. “Do you want that?”

“No,” you replied in the same way, kissing him again.

Although you wanted to, you weren’t going to hint at anything more with your friend, and he thought it wasn’t proper to suggest anything either. So, for a while, you simply continued kissing each other, softly and slowly, as if wrapped in a bubble where time didn’t pass.

“The wine was delicious, by the way.”

“It tastes even better on your lips, I’m sure,” you whispered, lovesick. You kissed him again and then spoke against his lips. “I’m glad you came back.”

You felt him smile.

“Me too.”

[spenceragnewfics]

f!reader losing virginity to spencer ? maybe as "just friends" to help her "get it out of the way" but they really like each other.

So...this was supposed to come out on Spencer's birthday but work and life got in the way...sorry.

WE’RE JUST FRIENDS? | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader | 18+ MINORS DNI

(also, yes the girl in the photo has a certain skin color but it's not indicative of the reader. I try to make these open to everyone as possible.)

TW: Smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, cursing, two idiots in love

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

DESCRIPTION: You have told you're best friend Spencer everything...well except two things. You're in love with him and you're still a virgin. Two things you never plan to tell him...until you do.

She never understood why people couldn’t just be friends. Opposite genders can be friends and not have any romantic feelings. Is it kind of hypocritical coming from her…yeah, but not totally. 

You see, Y/N has feelings for her best friend since college but is purely platonic with all her other male friends; Chanse, Shayne, Tommy, Ian, Anthony, and all the other guys at Smosh. She knows the main reason she’s attracted to Spencer and has been for years, he’s himself. It’s hard to explain unless you know Spencer but what made her fall for him…is him.

It’s not like her feelings are so intense she couldn’t date anyone else, in fact, she’s dated a couple of guys but they haven’t lasted for vastly different reasons. One thing has been one of the constant reasons for the break up, you don’t want to sleep with them.

She doesn't know why, but she has yet to date anyone who has made her feel comfortable enough to lose her virginity to, not wanting to regret it later on. That’s something she hasn’t told anyone, not even Spencer because she doesn't know how to explain why she hasn't yet. It’s something she never thought she would tell him until one night of drinks, pizza, and gaming. A semi-regular night for the two of them, especially after a long shoot week.

It was barely midnight, the two of them had been hanging out for like four hours at this point just talking, eating, and trying to beat the other at Mario Kart or play duos on Fortnite.

The night had gotten away from them after an epic Battle Royale about an hour ago where they celebrated with an extra drink and chatting. Like everything, somehow they got onto the topic of dating, both of them being single for almost, or over in Spencer's case, a year. That then delved into talking about more intimate stuff, “Honestly, I’m so fucking happy that I lost my virginity in high school. I could not imagine still being a virgin now. Too much pressure.” He quips after he makes a joke about the movie 40-year-old Virgin.

Y/N looks at him confused and lowkey, panicking, “Why do you say that? I don’t think it’d be that bad.” She confesses, sipping more of her drink. “Dude, when you’re in high school or college it’s all just part of the experience. You barely have dated anyone so there isn’t much pressure. Now though, fuck dude!” He says, rubbing his face in frustration at the thought and she looks down.

“There would be so much pressure at this point. You’ve dated so many people and at this point, it’s probably just you being in your head.”

“Or you’re scared to give it away and regret it. Guys losing their virginity is a lot more different than girls. You have to remember that, Spence. A lot more at stake too.” She looks at him, trying to show a stoic face but Spencer isn’t buying it.

Y/N is always someone who tries to show both sides of the coin but is usually more silly about it. Now, she’s being very serious and trying to act stoic, like she’s hiding something. It’s not something he wouldn’t have noticed unless they had been friends this long.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. I know you’re all about being things neutral but this seems like a bit more than usual. What’s up?” She looks at him confused, trying not to get embarrassed and say something she doesn’t want to. “Nothing, I just think that sometimes this whole thing is oversimplified.” He raises an eyebrow, “You’re acting like you’re still…” He trails off when she looks down and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Oh my god! Y/N! What the fuck! I thought you and-”

“We were but I changed my mind. Every time I thought about possibly losing it to him I felt nothing but dread. Same thing with the other guys. I don’t want to regret it.” She plays with her fingers, not wanting to look him in the eye.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She looks at him shocked, “Why would I need to tell you? It’s personal but also how the hell do I bring that up?” She says before speaking in a silly voice, “Oh, Spencer, I gotta tell ya, buddy. I’m a virgin because I get major anxiety and overthink it to where I just haven’t done it.” She does a silly laugh that sounds a lot like Goofy.

“Okay, I get it. This is a sensitive topic, I’m sorry.” He apologizes, looking at her sadly and she feels her heart pinch. “It’s not that. I just…I want to. I want to so badly but I just get so anxious and overthink everything. Sometimes I think that it’d be easier to find someone to hook up with or just get an escort or something.” She looks at him, “Or someone I have been friends with forever basically and I trust more than anything.”

Spencer looks at her confused until she raises a brow and he gets the message, “Oh, you mean me? Really?” She nods, playing with her fingers again as she gets nervous. “Yeah, I mean. I know I wouldn’t regret it with you because you’re my best friend. I don’t think there is a guy I trust more than you.” She confesses, making his face light up.

“I would be honored. Holy shit, you won’t regret this. I promise.” He says, sounding like an excited young kid who just got picked first for baseball. She giggles at his silly antics before letting out a shocked yelp when he pulls her close. “So, are you more dominant or submissive or…” She shrugs her shoulders. Spencer shrugs his as well before putting his hand on her cheek, pulling her in gently before connecting their lips.

She puts her hand on his as her other moves into his hair. He sighs into the kiss as her nails scratch at his scalp, sending chills down his spine. Gently, he lays her down on the couch as his lips move to cheek then to her jaw, and landing lastly on her neck.

He feels his pants tighten as she lets out soft sighs from his lips on her sensitive neck. His tongue licks a long stripe along it before he sucks on her pulse point. Her hand pulls at his hair in response as she mutters out his name softly, the sound making him harder by the second.

Unknown to Y/N, Spencer was slowly coming to the realization of his own feelings for her. What he would always brush off as anxiety of her dating someone new and unknown to him has turned out to be jealously. Jealous that these random guys would take you out and not him. He finally has his chance to test the waters…well test a little more than the waters.

His lips continue to work on her neck but stop when she starts to giggle. “What, what’s so funny?” He asks, moving back a little and chuckling himself. “Your beard tickles a bit. I like it though.” She’s coy about her words, he smiles at her shyness before going back to kissing her neck as she giggles again.

This is nothing he’s felt before. The other girls he had dated and slept with were all serious about sex. They didn’t want or think that sex could be playful and fun but in this moment Spencer feels his heart soar. He’s pulled out of his trance as she tries to pull off his t-shirt, he helps her take the article of clothing off before slipping his hands under her shirt.

He holds back a moan just at the feeling of her lace bra, not even seeing it in person. She giggles before slipping the shirt over her head and swears his eyes are popping out of his head. “I knew you had awesome tits, but holy fuck!” He groans as he puts his face between them.

His warm breath fans over them, sending chills down her body before his warm tongue licks her lace-covered nipple. She bites her lip as he does the same to the other before pulling her bra down to expose the flesh fully.

A strangled moan falls from her lips when he wraps his around her right nipple. His thumb and forefinger play with her left, rolling and gently tugging it. She feels herself getting wetter with each tug as her hands tangle in his hair. He continues to stimulate her nipples for a while before moving down with open mouth kisses.

“Spence, you don’t have to-”

“I want you, now sit back relax and enjoy the show.” He jokes with his sassy smirk before kissing her plush thighs. She sighs comfortably at the feeling before laughing when he playfully bites her thigh. “Sorry, you just tasted too good not to have a bite.”

Her eyes stay on him as his beard tickles her thigh before he moves to be face-first with her pussy. His finger come up to spread her lips as she feels her cheeks heat up, not used to having someone see so much of her. Her thighs start to close but Spencer stops them before they can. “Don’t hide yourself. You’re beautiful.” He assures her as he licks a long strip up her slit.

The new feeling makes her eyes roll as she breathes shakily. He continues to give long licks before moving to suck on her clit. “Holy fuck!” She moans, her hands quickly finding a place in his hair as she relishes in the new feeling.

She had used vibrators and other toys but nothing had felt like this before. His tongue swirls around her clit a few times before sucking again. He moves a finger to her entrance, “I’m going to put a finger in. It might feel weird at first.” She nods, moving a hand down to his arm. She releases a breath at the uncomfortable feeling, her hand squeezes his arm.

“Are you okay?” He asks his finger fully inside. “Yeah, just feels… different.” She confesses as she starts to feel embarrassed. “It’ll feel better in a bit, just gotta get you warmed up a bit.” His finger thrusts in and out for a moment before he adds a second. She moans softly when adds a second and whimpers as they move. “Is it feeling better?” He asks, she responds with a sweet moan that makes his cheeks heat up.

His fingers continue going in and out, stretching her out slightly. His fingers graze the spongy spot inside her, “Oh my, do that again! Please.” She begs. The feeling made her see stars, who is Spencer not to please? His finger rubs the spongy spot as she starts to feel herself get close.

“Yes, yes, just like that-Fuck!” She screams when his lips wrap around her clit again. He licks and sucks intermittently while still playing with her G-spot as she screams his name. “Spencer! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” She yells as the knot in her stomach snaps.

He licks and sucks her clean before sitting up. Pulling off his hoodie and pants. He aligns himself with her leaking hole, “This will probably hurt, but it’ll subside. I promise.” She nods as he slowly pushes in.

While the tight feeling makes him moan loudly, having been a while since he slept with anyone, Y/N bites her lip, the feeling being intruding and uncomfortable. Noticing her discomfort, he leans down and kisses her sweetly, trying to distract her as he continues to sink in.

Spencer is just a bit above average in length but more girthy than most. The stretch is something Y/N will come to love but for the first time, it’s a different feeling than anything she’s ever felt. Her face unconsciously skews in a bit of pain when he’s fully inside.

Leaning down, he locks their lips. His hips are still as he gives her time to adjust, the feeling of her wrapped around him is making it hard to keep still though. Her hands tangle in his hair once again and gently pull when she’s adjusted, giving them the okay to move.

His thrusts start out slow, letting her body adjust to the new sensations and the starting pain slowly melts away. He intertwines their fingers as he thrusts at the same pace. The gesture is small but is enough to make her feel safe and loved by the man on top of her.

It takes about a minute before Y/N starts to moan, “Faster, please Spencer.” She begs needing to feel more. It takes everything in him not to smirk as his hips pick up speed. “Oh god.” She moans, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep him close.

Spencer keeps a steady fast pace, his tip hitting her G-Spot as he moves his hips a little. The only sounds in the room are skin-on-skin, moans, and heavy breathing. The two are eye-locked, watching the other’s face and expressions.

“Shit, I’m close.” Y/N moans, feeling the familiar knot forming. “Me too, shit,” Spencer groans as his hand moves to rub her clit. “Fuck, Spencer!” She practically screams with the added sensation.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Please cum all over me.” He moans, his thrusts getting sporadic.  She screams his name as the knot bursts in her stomach and she cums on his dick. He groans as she clenches around him, making it hard for him to not cum inside her. He continues to thrust through her high before he starts to breathe very heavily.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He struggles to get out, feeling very close. “I don’t care.” She says, her voice very breathy. He pulls out and only strokes himself a few times before he cums on her chest.

Coming down from his high, the two look at each other and then laugh. “Oh my god, that was amazing. How the hell are you still single?” She jokes as he lays on top of her. “Just haven’t found the right one yet.” He says, his eyes looking at her softly as she runs a hand through his hair.

“Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.” She smiles at him and he leans in, “Or maybe I just have been overlooking a certain someone.” he says before kissing her.

[thequeendesi]

Two Pink Lines

Title: Two Pink Lines

Alt Title: I’ve Heard Worse News

Warnings: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of bad childhood

Pairing: Fezco x Reader x Platonic!Ash (lil bro ash and big sis reader ftw)

Disclaimer: I don’t own you or the euphoria franchise. I own the writing.

Rating: PG I reckon

Word count: 2k

A/N: I haven’t written anything in three months! I hope this doesn’t suck! I’ve had so much going on lately! I’ve gotten into my own place w my bf, I had a car crash, a major pregnancy scare, and a job promotion lol. I’m doing alright rn, so I figured I’d take the chance and finally get something out again! Thank you all for being so so kind and patient w my inconsistent ass 😂 I genuinely love all of y’all!!

✨✨

You sighed, placing the test face down on the counter. Music playing from your phone to try and ease your nerves. Snooze by SZA playing low as you slipped down the wall. You pulled your knees to your chest as you allowed the song to play through, your brain running the entire time.

The jokes you made to your boyfriend, Fez, were just that. Jokes. In no way did you actually think you were ready for children. You had just graduated from East Highland less than a week ago.

Your childhood wasn’t the most pleasant. You had been living with your boyfriend since you two were 13 and 14. Fez was all you knew, and you were all he knew. You knew everything about him and his life. His grandma, his job, his brother. And you fit like a glove in all of it. His grandmother took you in with open arms and loved you as her own.

You didn’t know what you’d do with a baby, you didn’t know where it would fit into your current life. You worked at the local breakfast place, it was like a Waffle House, but called MeeMaw Judy’s Home.

Your mind drifted to Fez. He didn’t want kids. You knew for a fact because he always told you “keep it movin’ ma”, everytime you passed baby aisles. Hell, the two of you even had talked about it last night. As far as Fezco was concerned, he didn’t see a baby in y’all’s plans for at least another 4 years.

The song ended and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t begin to explain how long those 3 minutes were. “Alright.” You whispered to yourself as you stood up, turning over the test you stared at them. Two pink lines. You’re not even sure you’ve ever seen pink lines so dark.

“Fuck.” You whispered as you placed the test on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you said, voice cracking at the last fuck, tears welling in your eyes. You had false positives before, only for the next test to have been negative. But this time you knew you were pregnant. Nausea, fatigue, as well as paired with your period being late not one, but two weeks? Oh yea, your eggo is preggo.

Your thoughts ran to a complete halt as the door opened. “(Y/N)! Can you make waffles… what the fuck is all of this?” Ash asked, looking at the test on the counter. Your heart sank as you tried to explain. “Look, I just… just please get out. Please.” You pleaded, trying to push him out. “Hey, it’s ok. Stop stressin’. Y’a’int in trouble. Just… y’know. Take a deep breath.”

Ash grabbed your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, a trait he picked up from Fez after he noticed it helped you calm down. “Ash, please. I need to think of how to tell Fez.” Ash shook his head before leading you to sit on the couch. “Worry about calmin’ your ass down first. You’re acting like your life is over. It’s just a baby.” Ash let go of your hand.

You felt yourself relax a little. How was he so calm? How is your life not over? Taking another look at the test, you grabbed it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” You walked out of the bathroom to the living room.

You sat on the couch and let go of the breath you were holding. “Why’re you so freaked out?” Ash asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Ash, you’re 14. I really don’t think any of this is your business. You’re too young.” You said, placing the test face down on the table.

“(Name).” Ash said plainly, looking at you.

“Okay. Fair.” You nodded, before taking a deep breath. You’re really about to vent to your boyfriend’s 14 year old brother? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Ash looked at you as a mother figure, seeing as his only real one was incapacitated.

“Fez doesn’t want kids. Not now at least.” You

“Well, ya should’ve been safer, huh?” He crossed his arms. “What’s the plan (Y/N)?” Ash asked you, leaning back into the couch.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead. A minute ago I found out I’m…” The words got caught in your throat as you leaned onto the couch as well. “You think MeeMaw’ll let me bring a kid to work?” You half joked.

“I’ve seen what she allows, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Ash said, a small smile finding itself on his rather stoic face.

Mrs. Judy, or MeeMaw as you and everyone called her, was a kinder old lady. Standing at a firm 4’10 inches, she’s seen a thing or two. She was always kind to you, making sure you had food to bring home to the boys. She knew your upbringing and the conditions that landed you to who you became.

“When’s Fez supposed to come home anyways?” You asked Ash. “Not sure. He’s sellin’ at some kid’s party tonight. What’s her name, Kat, I think?” He shrugged. “He probably won’t be home until midnight then,” you sighed, rubbing your face, “gives me at least 2 hours to think about what I’m gonna do.”

“I got somethin’ you can do then.”

“Waffles?” You half-laughed, looking at Ash through your fingers. “I think we need to buy eggs and milk for it actually.”

“Damn.” He placed his arms next to his sides. “We can watch a movie?” You suggested. “I got Maddy’s Netflix.” You shrugged.

“Better than waitin’ around for nothin’.” Ash grabbed the remote and handed it to you.

Turning on a movie on Netflix, some random movie by Adam Sandler, who’s movies were yours and Ash’s favorite way to pass time.

He quickly tuned into it, but your eyes glued onto the white slender test. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind.

Was Fez gonna be mad?

Was he gonna leave? Or more so, make you leave?

Was he gonna tell you it’s ok?

Was he gonna marry you? God, what a thought. Marriage wasn’t a bad thing, by no means. When it works.

By 12, your mother had been married 6 times, and two of them were remarriages to your father. Screaming, crashing and crying was no stranger to you.

You remember the argument your parents had that led them to that final divorce and you into Fez’s home.

“(Mother Name)! What’s this shit? You’re pregnant? Again?!”

“I was gonna tell you! You went snooping through the trash? Are you fucking insane?!” CRASH, you heard as the test that was thrown at the picture frame that had a picture of you holding your half-brother. You sniffed the tears back as you packed your bag faster.

“You should’ve wrapped it if you didn’t want this shit!” She screamed at him. “Fuck that! You’re just as much to blame! Is it even mine, whore?!”

“Oh fuck you, you bastard!”

“No thank you! That’s how we landed here! Just go! Go and fucking take your goddamn mistakes with you!”

Mistake? That’s all your father thought of you?

“You act like I wanted to get pregnant again, or any time beforehand! I didn’t want these fucking kids anymore than you or Jerald and Will did! Besides, (Name) is the only one here!”

Nevermind, there was your mother being the way she was. You looked at the broken glass on the floor as you stood in the doorframe.

“I’m not going with her.” You stated, in your broken little voice. “You’re not fucking staying with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking planning on it.” You walked past your father. “The fuck are you going?” Your mother asked.

“Why do you care?” You grabbed the doorknob, the rest of your body turning to look at your parents. “I’m a mistake to both of you, so why is it such a big fucking deal if I just grant you both your wish of getting out of your hair?” You asked them, tears free-flowing down your cheeks.

“Why the hell did you have kids if you hate them?” You asked them. “Why do I have to be an adult when I’m 13?”

Your parents stared at you, expression unrecognizable. “Well, just so you know, I hate you guys. So don’t worry, the feelings aren’t one sided.” You opened the door and walked out, closing it behind you.

You used your finger to wipe the tear that began to slip down your cheek. You haven’t seen your parents since that day, hell, you don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. You sent a graduation invitation to the house your mother lived at, but received the initiation back with RETURN TO SENDER in red letters over your face.

You looked over at Ash, who was fast asleep with his head on your lap. You smiled a little at him, and your gaze returned to the test.

Your phone began ringing from the bathroom and you gently placed Ash’s head on the couch. He curled up in a ball as he got re-comfortable. You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your phone.

Answering the call, you placed the phone to your ear. “Hey ma.” Fez’s voice sounded like honey over the phone. “Hey baby.” You said, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you threw the box in the trash. “Ash ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You answered, walking back to the living room to grab the test.

“You good?” He asked into the phone as you heard his blinker. “Yea… no. I just… we gotta talk when you get home.” You answered, walking to the front door. “I’ll just meet you at the car so we can talk without waking up Ash.” You told him, hanging the phone up.

You walked to the front of the house and leaned against the gate. You put the test in your bra as you waited.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you watched the bright lights pull in front of you. Putting your head down you walked over to the passenger seat and got in.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at you, his hand moving to hold your face. His hand rested on your cheek as he made you look at him. “Whatever it is, ma, it’s gonna be aight.” He said, thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek.

Your lip quivered as you let go of the breath you were holding. “I’m pregnant, Fez.” You said straight out, taking the test out of your bra to hand to him, eyes drifting to the floor.

“Oh.” His hand leaves your cheek to grab the test, turning on an overhead light, he looks at it. “I’m sorry.” You sniffed, eyes welling with tears as you stared at your feet on the floorboard.

“Whatchu sorry for? This ain’t bad news. I thought you was finna tell me someone died.” He looked at you. “It ain’t like we knew it was gonna happen. Shit happens, ma. We’ll figure it out, somehow. Hell, grandma did.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked him. “I’m not thrilled. But that part ain’t important no more.” He took your face in his hands, test between his fingers. “You’re what’s important to me, ma. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.” He kissed you softly. “We’re gonna have a baby. I’ve heard of worse news from you.” He said against your lips.

“I was scared you’d yell at me.” You confessed.

“Yell?” He pulled away from you. “Not about somethin’ like this.” He shook his head. “We got other shit to worry about rather than yellin’. Yellin’ ain’t gon’ get anything done other than stress my babies out.” He said simply.

“I got milk and eggs. Ash texted me.” He said.

“I guess I ain’t getting out of making them waffles, huh?”

“You figured you know better about that.” Fez half joked, grabbing the milk and eggs bag from the backseat.

“Now come on, I’m tired. It’s been a long night. We can talk more in the morning.” You patted his thigh and kissed his cheek.

He laughed a little and nodded his head. “Alright ma.”

[katsheadinclouds]

Give me a minute

Frankie Morales x f!/gn! reader

Summary: Frankie has been your best friend for a long time. You can share everything with him, except this time you’ve been dealing with your anxiety alone and have been having trouble putting it all into words.

warnings: soft!Frankie, anxiety, fluff, not canon compliant, no use of y/n, no pronouns or physical descriptions mentioned for reader. Not beta read.

word count: 3.6k

Notes: This is totally self-indulgent after having a bit of a rough patch in the past month. If you’ve been struggling lately, I’m sending you tenderness. It's only temporary and we will get through this.

Divider by saradika-graphics

Your Fridays with Frankie have become a tradition. You might go out for dinner, just the two of you, grab a drink somewhere, have a quiet night in, ordering takeout and watching a movie.

You always look forward to it, the moment when you see his dark curls peeking under his cap, his button-down shirts over his broad shoulders, the way he walks over to you with his head down, his hand tucked into the pocket of his tight jeans.

When he lifts his head up, his face lights up and it’s easy to answer the smile he offers you. Frankie always greets you with a hug. You don’t remember when you started to hug each other, but the longer you’ve known each other, the longer and softer the hugs have become. They linger and let you take a breath before you separate and go about your plans together.  

You arranged to meet up at your place this week. You’ve had to cancel for the past three times, with the same apologies and explanations, “I just need a bit of time to get adjusted to my new job, I promise it won’t take long now, it’s already better.” Even Frankie’s invites for you to join him, Santiago, Will and Ben have gotten you to offer him the same answer. You know he can pick your words apart by now. He knows you’re saying it all because you want to believe it to be true.    

Since the last time you saw him, you haven’t really had time or energy to take care of your home. You’ve piled dishes in the sink and now they’re spilling onto the counter next to it. You have clothes scattered here and there, the laundry basket full and your wardrobe getting emptier of possible clothes you could wear. Random piles of random things litter different surfaces, mail on the table next to the front door, your work laptop, and some papers you’ve dragged home with it on the dining table, only a small space cleared for you to eat at.

The coffee table next to your couch is covered with small bowls and mugs, some that you tried to pile and clear out but realized there’s no more space in the sink. A few books and magazines in different stages of reading, some with bookmarks, some with random pieces of paper sticking out between the pages.

You spilled your drink from one of the mugs a few days ago and the paper towels you used to dry it up with are still on the table, in crumbled balls. They left behind white fibers that stuck to the wood and now the table looks even worse.

The doorbell rings and you let Frankie in. You smile when you see him, but he can see the strain in it, how it’s like a change of clothes that you can take off when the door closes behind him at the end of the night.

Frankie leaves his usual blue cap onto the table next to your door, right beside your home keys, as he always does when he comes around. It’s a spot that you’ve started to leave empty just because you know he’ll leave it there. He pushes his fingers through his hair, mussing the flattened curls back into place. He reaches for you, closing you into a hug that makes you shut your eyes and take a deep breath.

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses with gentleness in his eye, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“Missed you too.” There’s a genuine glimmer of happiness on your face, until it reverts back into the forced strain against your cheeks.

He follows behind you into the living room and you can pick apart every inch of your apartment that you usually keep organized. You look at him over your shoulder, sensing the pulled together brows even before you see them. “I’m good, just a bit tired, don’t worry. Sorry about the mess.”

It has become a weird habit for you to clean before anyone comes over. That you have to have everything in order, comfortably homey but still kept together. Now the clutter stands out even more, out of place and out of the ordinary. Frankie has said it multiple times now, that you don’t have to clean for him at all. “I’m here to see you, not your apartment,” and he finished his words with that familiar warm smile that you answer every time almost reflexively.  

“No, no reason to be sorry, I’ve said it before –“

“Yeah, that you don’t mind if it’s messy, your apartment is messy most of the time as well.” You laugh but the sound splutters out of your throat painfully.

He offers you the snacks he brought; some new popcorn flavor that sounded good just a couple of days ago when he said he had seen them at the store. Now even the thought of them makes you grimace. He already pops a grape into his mouth when you leave him to make the popcorn in the microwave.

You stare at the puffing bag rotating on the glass plate, the smell of the cooking kernels wafting in the air already.

“Did you hear me?” The words settle into your ears slowly, one letter at a time, until you realize Frankie is talking to you.

“What?” The microwave dings and you take the hot bag out, dropping it into a bowl.

“I asked if you’d like to watch the movie you mentioned last week?” He cranes his neck when he hears your footsteps getting closer, the comfortable softness on his face giving you a moment of solace before your head is forcing you out of this moment with your friend again.

“Yeah, sounds good.” In reality you can’t remember what movie you had mentioned. You settle on your couch next to him and make room for the bowl beside the grapes that are still beading with water after you washed them. You pop the steaming bag open and dump the fresh, savory treats into the awaiting bowl.

“Oh shit, I forgot the beer,” you gasp out and are already standing up when Frankie stops you with his palm landing on your arm.

You see that softness on his face that you’ve become to find comforting in the time you’ve known him, but you can also see the worry underneath. The kind that is watching you, trying to understand what is going on through your actions since you’re not telling him what is on your mind. “It’s okay, we can drink later if we feel like it.” You nod your head almost in a robotic, twitchy way.

He presses play on the movie and the TV screen is filled with vibrant colors. The music from the intro is supposed to give you a sense of what’s to come. You only get more anxious from the booming instrumental and the echoing singing of a choir.

It’s a movie everyone is talking about. The memory of mentioning it to Frankie comes back to you slowly. You had wanted to see it, so you’d have something to talk about with the colleagues in your team at work who had gone out to see it together.

You’re not completely sure what the premise of the movie is but when the main character is the one looking in, watching others laughing and enjoying their time together, the feelings you’ve been swallowing come crashing down.

The lack of connections. The smile you have to force yourself to wear at work when you see your colleagues making plans with each other, discreetly turning their backs on you. The way you’ve started to believe your voice doesn’t really matter when no one answers you.

It's hard enough at your new job when you’re automatically the odd one out, the new one. Someone who needs a bit of time to find out their own place, the one who is always a little on the sidelines, always welcomed to join but doesn’t get an invite.

You act like you understand what the others are talking about. You listen to their stories of people you have no idea who they are. You laugh when they do, only to find out it’s an inside joke when someone says that you should’ve been there to really know what is so funny about it.

When you get back home you try to convince yourself you just need to work a little harder to show them that you’re a valuable part of the team already. You just need to push a little harder, do a bit more, be a bit more active to be seen for the person you are.

The first week you were glad to do it. Now you don’t know what has happened. Why are you feeling so discouraged, so dismissed, so empty and invisible. Your head feels so full and all these thoughts are suffocating you from the inside out.

Your thigh is pressed against Frankie’s as he focuses on the movie. You pull away from him, wrap yourself protectively in your blanket and curl in yourself, like a little turtle hiding itself in its shell. You feel the familiar sting in your eyes. It has been a while since you cried. You’ve been adamant in not letting those tears fall.

Now, watching this movie that is so far from what you’re experiencing, it somehow digs itself into your chest and forces out the tears that you’ve been holding in the whole day. You clear your throat, and discreetly wipe away the tears that spill from your eyes, breathe through your mouth to hide the sniffles from your nose. It doesn’t stop the salty droplets from falling. Hiding is only making you feel worse and the irrational need to escape takes over.

“Keep the movie on, I’ll be back in a sec,” you choke out and push yourself off the couch, dropping the blanket in the process. Frankie hears you cursing under your breath, but you don’t stay to lift it off the floor.

He follows you with his gaze and sees you wiping at your face. You lock the bathroom door and turn on the faucet immediately, drowning out any sounds under the hissing water against the sink. The movie drones on in the background, Frankie’s focus torn far away from it. He wasn’t that into it anyway, the settings and characters a bit too pretentious for his liking.

When you don’t come back in a few minutes, he pauses the movie and listens to the sounds from the bathroom. He hears your sniffles, followed by a whimper that isn’t something he’s used to hearing when he’s with you.

You’ve known each other for a few years now. There was a time when you were just acquaintances, passing each other when Santiago introduced the rest of the group to his new girlfriend and her friend, you. Ben and Will were their usual selves, asking questions and making you both feel welcomed and included.

Santiago kept his girlfriend under his arm the whole night, like they were glued together, and you sipped at your drink and listened to everyone talk with glinting eyes and a wide grin on your lips. You answered when someone asked you a question, and sometimes you got a word in through the excited chatter.

Deep down you were a little shy, just like Frankie. He could recognize a like-minded person a mile away. A little timid at first but after some warming up you dared to let your personality through. After the first time you met you often joined them for a night out at a local bar or came to listen to live music in a small underground club. Sometimes you even came to watch Ben’s MMA fights but those were mostly for meeting the group rather than to watch the match. You were too soft natured for it, you once said.

It happened sneakily, the connection you and Frankie built between each other. It was a surprising realization that you share the same taste in music, had similar opinions about movies you had seen, important core memories from a place you both had visited at some point in your lives.

Even after Santiago and his girlfriend broke up, you still wanted to join a night out. Suddenly the group melted away as you talked only to each other, not caring about the conversations the others were having. Your discussions were always deep and intimate even in loud environments.

There was an urge to always find out more of each other, to talk until you were too tired to form coherent sentences. You both were clinging onto every word, memorizing details that made either of you smile, reach for the other in understanding, laugh in a way that was like you had known each other always, familiar and comforting. It has always been easy between the two of you.

Frankie knows you have your off days. The days when you would much rather be on your own, maybe curl on your bed for a nap, have a bit more time for yourself to process the thoughts that race through your head. Sometimes you crave for the company of your friend, even if it’s only to spend time together and not do anything special in particular. It was a way to get you out of your head, to get you to forget the things that got you down in the first place.

You’ve told him about the experiences you’ve had before. How you’ve felt like an outsider. How it’s hard for you to trust others. How you’re always a little careful when meeting new people until you let them fully in. That made him proud that you had chosen him as your friend, as someone who you share your thoughts with, who you can be yourself with. Most of the time.

Frankie presses his hand against the bathroom door and listens. The muffled crying makes uneasiness settle in his chest.

“You okay?” He taps his knuckles gently against the surface. You clear your throat immediately and a strained “uh-huh,” follows.

“Can you open the door?” There’s a moment of quietness that he’s not sure you’re going to fill.

“You need to use the bathroom?” Your questioning voice is weak and thick. Something’s wrong. The uneasiness sinks heavily from his chest into his stomach.

“No, but I’m worried about you.” The silence that stretches after Frankie’s confession is excruciating as he waits for your decision. Are you going to let him in or pretend that you’re okay.

The continuous sound of water splashing against the sink stops when you turn the tap off. The stillness you offer him becomes unnervingly loud.

The lock klicks and you push the door ajar. Frankie is leaning against the wall with his arms over his chest, peering in to see your face. He reaches his fingers against the edge of the door and opens it more to let you out, to see your reddened eyes, the puffy turn of your lips, tears still streaking your cheeks even when you try to wipe them away.

You try to get some of the worry off his face by attempting a small smile. It only makes more tears spill from your eyes and Frankie’s heart chip from the edges as it thumps uncomfortably when he sees how broken you are.

“Come here,” he pulls you gently against his chest, cradling you in his arms.

The pressure is comforting, his arms around you, his large hands on your back, his fingertips digging into the tight muscles that only tell you about the stress and anxiety that have made their home in the deepest depths of your being. It has been with you for a while again, you just haven’t let it boil over. Until now.

“What happened?”

“It’s just… a lot” Frankie’s hands pause for a moment against your back, until he continues to trail them slowly up and down, warming up your skin under the cotton of your shirt.

“What is?”

“Everything,” you whine, and it feels so pathetic to be weeping against his chest, drying your tears in the worn fabric of his shirt, leaving dark spots against it. You squeeze his button-up on his back gently in your fists to feel his warmth and care against you, to get him closer. His breathing calms you down, the steady rhythm of his inhales and exhales encouraging you to follow his lead to soothe your stammering heart.

“Tell me about it,” he suggests softly, his voice in your ear, his breath against your skin. You nod and let him lead you back to the couch. He picks up the blanket off the floor and sits you down before he wraps it around the both of you.

Your body fits against Frankie’s side, his arm over your shoulders. You tuck your head against the crook of his neck and stare at your joined hands. You play with the hem of his shirt as his thumb caresses the back of your palm as light as a feather.

With every inhale you smell him a little more. His gentle sweetness and saltiness, that familiar scent of a cologne that is somewhere between fresh and warm. You once told him you liked it and since then he always wears it around you.

You notice the TV screen has gone black; the movie long forgotten. The popcorn and the grapes on the coffee table look trivial, like they don’t really belong there. Everything around you is a little tilted, a little off, with you.

“What’s the first thing on your mind?” You close your eyes and open your mouth. You let Frankie in on those thoughts that sometimes feel a little too scary to put into words, the immense loneliness and purposelessness glaring at you straight in the eyes.

It’s sometimes so hard to admit that you have those feelings, how you’ve battled with them for so long. They come and go, sometimes leaving you for longer periods and then sometimes swim in with a tide of other things that don’t go your way.

Frankie listens to you without caring about the soft noises from the street below your apartment that sometimes come in through the closed window. Every now and again his palm strokes down your arm until he squeezes you a little tighter against him.

You let it all out. Some of the tumbling words get accompanied by a fresh wave of tears. Some of them make you shake your head like you can’t believe you’re telling him all of this. Some you hear yourself say but feel as if you’re detaching from them and from you. And some hurt, heavy and agonizing in your body.

Until there’s no words left to describe whatever is left inside your head. It’s all just a jumbled mess of emotions at this point. Memories, words, people’s voices that you remember from years ago.

“Then there’s the clearest emotion.”

“What?” Frankie asks when you start to giggle.

“I feel so stupid.”

“Why?” His voice sounds like his mouth is right against your ear. His breath puffs against your forehead.

“Because I know I’m not alone. I know I have a purpose even if I don’t know it yet exactly. I know it’s all in my head and it still feels as real as everything around us. I just can’t seem to convince myself that I’m not worthless, that it’s all just a bunch of lies my anxiety is telling me.”

“Hey,” his commanding tone and the shift in his body makes you lift your head off his shoulder and look at him in the eye. He’s serious, the worry still ever present on his soft features, the downturn of his brown eyes a little heartbroken at your words.

The expression on Frankie’s face wipes away the self-deprecating jokes you’d want to make in a flash. They remind you to not laugh at yourself or how you feel. “Whatever your head tells you, you’re not worthless. No matter how many times I have to remind you of that, I always will.” His voice is low, almost a whisper, seeping into your consciousness slowly, and with care.

“I know,” you nod your head in confirmation, and hug yourself around him once more, your arm settling over the softness of his middle. You feel his lips press against your forehead, pressing still when you crawl even closer to feel that patient support he offers you in abundance. His scruffy cheek settles against your head as you feel yourself relax against him.

The tears stop flowing. The over critical voice that is always ready to put you down and remind you of your fears and failures in your head is a little quieter than before. The ache in your chest is a little duller. Maybe you needed a good cry, maybe you needed to tell someone that you’re struggling. Maybe it’s them both.

“Whatever you feel, it is as real as everything around us. I’m here for you, just like you’ve been there for me in my darkest moments.” The gentle whisper almost disappears into the setting dark behind your window.

“You can count on me.” You breathe the words in, feel the comfort of them. You nod against the steadiness of Frankie’s shoulder, and he sighs out in relief. He listens to your breaths slowing down until he knows you’ve fallen asleep. The quiet around him and the closeness of your body against his side make his eyes heavy.

The lights are still on when Frankie wakes up. He possibly slept for only a few minutes or maybe it was a few hours. He wouldn’t know. It’s still dark outside and he doesn’t want to jostle you when he sees the calmness on your face. The blanket on top of you both has slipped a little, fallen towards the floor. Frankie fixes it, giving you most of it to keep you warm and safe.

[tiajk]

We are family

Okay so i’ve been in love with maze runner and avatar for so long so im gonna make a crossover of it

Warnings: angst, fluff, daddy issues, death, and I haven’t watched the second avatar so bear with me if things are wrong

Avatar x fem reader x maze runner

So basically you were jakes daughter before he went to pandora him being in the marines involved guarding WICKED for some dumb reason that's when he meet your mother she was a scientist at WICKED and they slept together which resulted you into being born

He left before he found out and 2 years later he lost his legs and your mother tired to protect you but you were the perfect test subject knowing your parents background it would be a perfect opportunity

They killed your mother after she tried to protect you from being in the maze being there subject but of course you didn't remember

But when you arrived in the maze you were determined to become a runner being curious you got that from both of your parents

Being the keeper of runner with minho which you had a crush on for about a month now

When you guys were in the maze and you almost got cut off because the sections were changing after you had gotten out of that situation you confessed to him and he returned the feelings and you guys started dating after that

Newt had been your number one shipper since day one he had loved you and minho interactions so when you guys came back into the glade holding hands and looking at each other with love in your eye he gave you and minho a smirk along with the lines of saying “I told you”

You rolled your eyes at him you may or may have not ranted to newt your best friend about how you didn’t think minho would ever like you back

Now time skip to when thomas came into the maze you nudged newt “he looks like someone you would date” he pushed you away as a joke he had came out to you over a year ago but he knew you were right about a following week he had told you he had a crush on thomas then you being the cupid you are setting them up 2 weeks later

^ so i just acted like thomas was there for 3 months instead of 3 days just to make sure it's clear

But anyways continuing from when thomas came up and he was trying to go towards the maze you had stopped him instead of gally and a lot less rougher “ woah there greenie you can’t go there your not a runner” Que minho coming through and ben still running off and making that comment towards chuck minho grabbing your waist and giving you a back hug saying “new greenie huh?” you nodded “yeah tried to go into the maze but lucky i stopped him before the doors close”

But anyways after yall escaped the maze they called you sully which you were confused they had told you it was your last name your response was “hm y/n sully has a ring to it”

But when they took minho you guys spent months tracking him you going crazy because minho the love of your life might be dead you guys knew you had to go to pandora you never heard of it before but you knew it would be worth it

Since the trip was 5 years you spent the time studying learning about the na’vi culture and about your mother your father was unknown but your mother you learned everything you could about her

When you finally arrived you saw the na’vi you knew they were huge giants even you guys had made you plan to get minho there

For some reason all the new gens could breathe the air so there was no need for the mask

You were in the jungle one day with the gang you wanted to take a break since the tracking minho's train at the perfect time was getting tiring

Until you heard voices in the forest something along the lines of “show me your fingers” you guys were always harmed you were on a completely different planet you saw the hostages and you turned to thomas, newt and brenda saying “we have to help them”

They agreed you shot your guns at them taking down the people that help the navi that were captured run away and you didn't want to be mean but you grabbed their tails and told them “run” they obeyed you even though you were human so you guys ran and ran

You guys were runners back in the maze so you guys could run for a long time even out running the navi surprisingly

After being out of harm's way you stopped trying to catch your breath they were shocked thoughts going through their head why have you helped them, were you with the RDA or WICKED

Tuk being the sweet little angel said “thank you” you smiled “no problem we know what it's like to be hostages”

Neteyam and Lo’ak shared a look WICKED Neteyam was first to speak up “so who are you” trying his best in english

You realized it all of you shared a look with newt thomas and brenda “Im y/n sully these are my friends thomas newt and brenda”

Kiri looked at you “your a sully” you were confused like really confused now “yeaaa”

Tuk went and hugged you she was 5’7 (that's what i heard) her being taller/smaller/the size height as you saying “your our sister” You coughed “Uhm i don't think so”

They had brung all 4 of you to there home you got stares from everyone they started talking in their language saying “Outsiders” “sky-people” “Jake will be upset” “Killers in our home” brenda asked you what they were saying you told her “bullshit things

The kids that lead you here were looked at in shock in what you assume from their parents then them yelling at them in their language the exact words being “You being these sky-people here they could be apart of the RDA they could be aparat of WICKED they could kill us all now that you have brought us here” you wanted to chime in but its not your place

Thomas and newt were holding hand getting worried brenda whispered to you “n/n its not looking good we should go”

You nodded you and the others stared or attempted to walk away when a blue hand grabbed your arm gently you looked up at who it was it was kiri “listen to her dad she could help us and the others” she looked down at you with home when you looked in front of you you saw the parents looking at you waiting for a explanation you nodded

The gang stood there trying to make a decision whether to try and run or corporate you grabbed newts hand a single as “its okay we're safe”

You took a breathe “My name is y/n sully I came to pandora about a month ago my friend was kidnapped by WICKED they hurt us abused us all so they could find a cure to this disease because were immune we saw your children in the forest help captive we helped them escape but we couldn’t save this human boy we mean no harm to your people or your home but they brought us here i dont know why but we won’t ever bother you again we just want to save our friend and go home”

You looked at the gang thomas and you were so immature at times and this was one of those times he was trying to hold back his laugh you were never so serious so it was funny to him you stuck your tongue out at him

The really big blue man came to you “im thankful you saved my children but your name repeats it for me?” you raised an eyebrow “ Y/n sully why?” he sighed “my name is jake sully” it all made sense on your mothers profile it never said anything about your father just that he was in the marines he spoke again “can you remeber anything that your mother told you about your father growing up anything at all” you laughed “No i can’t because i was in the maze for 3 years they wiped out memories tried to kill us murder us but if your my father fuck you”

You had turned away not knowing how to feel in the moment this man might be your father and everything is at risk right now

[callunavulgari]

Chapter 6 is up for our @steddiebang2024 project! Chapter banner by the lovely @firefly-party! <3

.

It has been exactly thirteen days since Eddie heard a peep from Steve’s apartment. Thirteen excruciating days. A few weeks ago, he would have been absolutely tickled by this development. No Cher at six AM? No blender? No obnoxious drunken warbling in the middle of the night? Count him the fuck in for a little bit of peace and quiet.

And, Eddie will confess, for the first few days, there was some small element of relief. He got to sleep in for the first time in weeks. More importantly, he managed to sleep through an entire night, completely undisturbed.

Only… the silence began to stretch. A few days turned into a week. Into two.

It’s not that Steve isn’t there. Eddie can still hear him sometimes, but it’s like the volume has been turned down on Steve himself. Like whatever bright thing in his chest that kept him singing in the face of all the bullshit was just… gone. Wiped clean. Snuffed out.

And Eddie’s beginning to realize that he’s actually concerned. That somewhere along the way, something resembling affection began to take root beneath his ribs whenever Steve started up with his bullshit. He could still get annoyed about waking up early while also having a bit of a soft spot for the guy.

The cat that Eddie had only realized after its third visit to Casa de Munson was actually Steve’s cat has also been showing up more and more often. It shows up mostly when Eddie’s playing something, but what had started with a few occasional visits had turned into an every other day occurrence. It’s gotten to the point that Eddie doesn’t even know if Steve has noticed that his entire cat is missing. 

If it were anyone else, Eddie would just seize the cat up in his arms, march his happy ass into the hallway and pound on Steve’s door, demanding that he look after the fucker properly so it’s not on Eddie’s conscience if the poor thing plummets six stories to its death.

When he tells Chrissy about it during their now weekly meetup, she frowns at him.

They’re at Eddie’s place and the plan for the day had been to basically eat their weight in takeout and marathon Lord of the Rings, because she made the mistake of mentioning in Eddie’s earshot that she’d never seen the movies. Now though, she’s looking at his wall like she’s seriously considering going over there and interrupting Steve’s morning to tell him that his weirdo neighbor is worried for his mental health.

“Have you tried to reach out to him at all?” she asks, drawing her legs up onto the chair next to her as she continues to frown at the wall, chewing idly on her lip. “You said that you’ve at least heard him moving around, right? He’s not, y'know—” she pauses to lower her voice into a tentative, guilty sort of whisper, “—dead?”

Eddie shakes his head. On screen, Gandalf calls Pippin an idiot again. “Definitely not. I can still hear him, he’s just… quiet.” He zones out in the general direction of the screen for a solid thirty seconds, then turns to her properly. “It’s not weird that I’m worried about this, right? Like, I’m not overthinking things? Because you know me, chronic overthinker here. But I actually think that something might be wrong.”

Chrissy leans over and pats the back of his hand. Her fingers are still sticky from the strawberry-iced donut that she just finished, but Eddie doesn’t mind. “Listen to your gut then, Eddie. Maybe you just need to reach out.”

Eddie makes a face. “I don’t want to be weird though. Who drops in to do a wellness check on a neighbor that they haven’t even met? What am I gonna say?” He pitches his voice higher, makes it go squeaky and mocking as he simpers, “‘Sorry, man, I know that we haven’t been formally introduced yet, but I’m really starting to miss the Mamma Mia soundtrack being piped through my walls at all hours of the night.’”

Chrissy shrugs, popping one of Eddie’s donut holes into her mouth. “I mean, I would. But maybe I’m weird.”

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 15: Visitors

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

cw: minor descriptions of violence/physicall assault

Present Day, March 1987

“When are you going to move in,” Sarah asks over the phone.

“Next week, I think. I should get the keys in a few days and then we’ll take some time to get some basic furniture. Then we should be all good.”

Steve was excited for the move. Excited to get out of this house to something he owns. Something he can make his own. A place where he can walk through the door and see himself on the walls. In the furniture. Where it feels like home.

Not just a large house where most of the lights are never on. Suffocating anyone who lives in it.

It’ll be an adjustment. But he’s willing to do it. Ready to do it. He’s been stuck in the same loop for so long, he ready to break it.

“Any word from your parents?”

Steve still feels bad about that. If things went the way he wanted them to, Julie would never have to endure his parents. Over the phone or in person. Knowing her, she’d probably want to sit behind him in court. She’d see them there. But wouldn’t be dealing with him. That’s his job, not hers. Not anyone’s.

He’s been dealing with his parents for his entire life. He’s used to it. Knows how to shut up and say the right things just so the issue is dropped. Most of the time. Sometimes he fights back. Stands up for himself. Just to get knocked back down to the lowest peg possible. But he tries.

Now, it’s a totally different ballgame. They can’t knock him down again, not really. He’s stronger than he was back then. Older. More mature. Has a sense of his own self worth and how it doesn’t revolve around their opinions. They never cared enough to stay, why should he care about their words.

“Uh yeah. They got the papers, last I heard from the courthouse is that they got the response letter. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Well, that was to be expected. Anything else?”

Steve hesitates. “Yeah, um. I sort of got kicked out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, my dad said he wanted me gone. That if I thought I was going to get anything from them anymore I was wrong and can’t keep living here rent free. But they haven’t, like, sent a cop or anything to make sure I’m gone. So, it’s fine. I’m handling it.”

“That’s only because you have an in with the Chief, Steve,” Sarah says sternly. He can picture the frustration on her face. “When did they tell you this?”

“Two weeks ago.”

Sarah swears under her breath. “You’re cutting it close here, Steve.”

“I know,” he says before she can continue. “I know I am. But we’re so close to getting out. Most of our stuff is out of the house except for essentials, and I have people on standby incase they come home. I’m not going into this blind. I know how they are.”

“The minute they show up, the minute that this backup plan gets put into place, you call me immediately.”

Steve knows that Sarah’s just planning for the worst possible outcome. That it’s better to plan for things that might never happen than to scramble for a solution. He doesn’t want to think of the worst. Deep down, there’s a strong feeling that it’s actually going to happen.

Because he does know them. He knows how they will want to fight. They don’t want to do it at all. Threats have gotten them out of trouble before, it shouldn’t be any different now. Only Steve wasn’t giving up. Giving in. He separated himself from them enough that their words don’t mean shit anymore.

At least that’s how he’ll act. In court, he’ll tell the judge the truth, not caring what their going to say as a rebuttal. The way they’ll tear him down as much as they can. It won’t affect him then, but Steve has no way of knowing how it will affect him behind closed doors.

Despite everything, someone deep inside him craves for their approval. Their attention. That person has been getting satisfaction knowing that he’s getting it somehow. The same person that threw large parties just to get the cops called. Just to see if they would show up again. Give him a phone call. Steve wants to ignore that part of him, but it’s there.

That same part of him will probably cry when this is all over. Knowing that his parents are done with him forever. That they think the worst of him. Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It still does sometimes.

“I promise I will,” Steve assures.

“Good.” Sarah hangs up without another word.

Steve’s relationship with his parents has always been complicated. He knew that. Everyone knew that. There was a small hope that if he just acted right, did all the right things, the relationship would become less complicated. Less strained. He’d be their son the way other sons were. Not just a trophy to sit on a shelf, but something more. It never became that, no matter how hard he tried.

So he stopped trying, and look where he is now.

. . .

Julie was putting her plate in the sink when a car pulled into the driveway. Steve’s head turned to the door, wondering who it is. He never does that. People come and go here all the time, normally Eddie since he has a car. Robin if she gets him to pick her up on the way.

But Steve never turns his head when it’s them. Like he has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to random people showing up at his door. Always knowing who it is before he sees them. This is different.

Still, Julie doesn’t pay much thought on it. It’s probably just one of them. Or maybe one of the kids had their parents drive them over. It’s nothing.

Until they hear the garage door start to open. No one ever uses the garage.

Steve’s body tightens. Standing straighter that he normally does.  He abandons his dish in the sink, walking toward the door leading to the garage. On attention. Waiting for something to pounce.

She’s never seen him like this before.

When he returns to the kitchen, there’s a frightened look in his eye. One that immediately makers her heart start to pound faster. It can’t be that bad. What can scare him into looking like this? Spine tied up with a string. Stance ready to start running. Afraid. He’s so afraid.

His mouth opens to say something as a car door slams. A rage filled voice traveling across the house. Enough that she can place who’s it is, even after only hearing it once. Steve’s fear matches in her eyes.

“Steve, who’s here?” Her voice waivers.

Without saying a word, Steve gently grabs her arm and brings her to the sliding door. “You can’t be here right now. They can’t know you’re here.”

“Steve,” she asks again.

He slides the door open, the evening air making her shiver. “The Byers house isn’t that far through the woods. You remember going there for Christmas Eve, right? Go straight about thirty feet, then make a right and keep walking.”

“Steve.”

The door starts to open, and the voices fill the other room. Steve’s eyes dart towards the sound before landing back on her. Only making her more scared.

“I’ll be there within an hour with the rest of our stuff. But it will be worse if they see you’re here. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“Steve,” she pleads for him to slow down.

“You got it. Go to the loose fence behind the pool house and then walk straight a little bit. Then make a right and keep going. You’ll see their house after a while. Take this.” He reaches for the walkie on the kitchen table. Messing with the dial. “When you get to the woods, call for a code red. It won’t go to everyone, just to them. I’ll be there when I can.”

Before Julie can say anything else, Steve pushes her out the door and shuts it behind her. Sliding the lock into place.

Heavy breaths fill her lungs, burning slightly with the chilled air. She looks at Steve though the glass. Face frantically asking for an explanation. Trying to convince her the one she has is wrong. They can’t be here right now.

“Go, please,” Steve mouths through the glass. Terrified.

Julie turns. Walking to the pool house. Finding the loose panels of the fence and pulls them to the side. The same way she would do when she would sneak into this backyard. When she lived in that other house and would do anything not to be there.

Steve’s instructions replay in her mind. Walk straight for a bit, about thirty feet. Maybe more. The turn right and keep walking until you see the house. Call for a code red. Julie looks at the walkie in her hand before she presses the button. Seeing how her hand in shaking.

“Copy,” a man’s voice comes through the speaker. Julie unable to place it right now. “I’ll wait outside for you. If you don’t see the porch light, look for the flashlight. Call again if you get lost.”

Julie turns to the house again. The light click on in Steve’s room. He shouldn’t be much longer. There’s not much else to grab. He should be right after her.

She thinks about waiting. But she already called. They’ll get worried if she doesn’t show up.

Her mind can’t stop racing as she walks. Sun setting slowly as it becomes harder to see the ground. Squinting to make sure she doesn’t trip on a root or branch.

Did Steve’s parents really show up? Just unannounced. That part wasn’t as surprising when she thought about it. They seemed like the people to do that. Steve mentioned that they might come home. She didn’t believe it then. She barely believed it now.

He was right. They showed up at the worst possible time. Give it another week and they would have been out of there anyway. But no, they just had to show up today.

The rage of Steve’s father’s voice rings in her head. The threats on the phone call finding their way back to her mind. What would they do when they saw he was still there? He wanted the two of them gone, that didn’t happen. Not yet. It was happening, but something told Julie that wouldn’t matter. In their heads, Steve disobeyed them. Again.

. . .

Steve watches Julie round the pool house before he turns away. Knowing that she’s going to a safe place, that no matter what the Byers’ will take care of her. His safety, he’s not so sure about. Anger fills his dad fast, and it’s already bubbling over with the sight of the Beemer still sitting in the driveway. Or the fact that there’s lights on in the house.

He’s about to see his parents for the first time in two years. And he’s terrified.

Everything slows down like one of the horror movie scenes. Where the footsteps thump down the hall while the protagonist just stands and waits like an idiot. Waiting for it to strike. They don’t seem like such idiots anymore. Steve knows how feet can feel glued to the floor, but it has a whole new meaning now.

His back is straight, chest puffed out in a way that makes him look bigger than he is. Anything to make him more menacing than his father’s glare. Or fist. Or whatever is coming his way as his father finds his way to the kitchen.

For the first time in two years, Steve looks at his father’s face. Disgusted how much it looks like his. A constant reminder of where he comes from, no matter how hard he tries. Rage filled eyes meet Steve’s, waiting for him to make the first move. All he does is cross his arms, clench his jaw. Trap his father in a glare. He’s not speaking until he has to.

“Steven,” his mother breaks the silence. “We were not expecting you.”

She always tried to keep the peace between them. To try and keep in his father’s rage. It rarely worked. But she tried. It was the one thing Steve commended her for. Deep down, he felt bad for her. Trapped in an unhappy marriage having to follow after Richard just to make sure he didn’t cheat. But that still meant leaving him, and she didn’t call enough for him to forgive for that.

“No, we were not,” Richard finally speaks, voice tense. “What are you still doing here?” Considering you are no longer welcome in this house, that is.

His father can’t even speak his name. Steve debates walking past right up to his room. Filling the last tote bag before doing the same with the rest of Julie’s stuff. Walking out without an explanation. His father raises his eyebrow with a tilt to his head. Awaiting an explanation.

Instead, Steve decides to gloat. “I’m actually just waiting for the keys to my house. Didn’t want the neighbors to think you left your son to sleep in his car. That wouldn’t be so nice to the reputation, wouldn’t it, dad.” He continues to glare at his father, not backing down.

His father lets out a condescending laugh. “If you were so concerned about reputation, then we wouldn’t have to go to court. Would we, Steven? Instead, you think that you deserve some kind of justice. After all we’ve done for you.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. “What did you do for me exactly?”

“Put a roof over your head, make sure there was money to put food on the table. Give you a car, clothes, expensive gifts. See you through high school, pay for your sports equipment. Everything you have is because we gave it to you.” Richard’s voice raises, almost yelling. Almost.

Steve resists a flinch when the last word booms through the room. Instead of saying another word, he side-steps his parents, heading upstairs. Flicking on the light in his room, stuffing as much of his stuff into a tote bag. His room already looks bare except for the sheet and the stupid car poster on his wall.

His mother appears in his doorway moments later, a more silent argument ready to be said. Until she sees the walls. “You painted?” she gasped.

“I did. Hope you don’t mind. I won’t be here much longer anyway. You can turn it back into what it was.”

A sickened smile forms on his mother’s face. “You never told me you wanted to change your room. We could have done it together.”

Meaning that she could have changed it while he watched. Hating how it would have turned out no matter what the product was. His mother never listened to him anyway.

“Well, you were never here long enough to change it, so I just did it myself.” He smiles to himself when his mother’s smile twitches. Knowing that his words stung.

The tote bag gets slung over his shoulder as he pushes past her. Leaving her to look at her ruined masterpiece as he packs up Julie’s room. Pulling out the tote bag she has underneath her bed and putting away the few essentials that she had left. Taking out another to shove her clothes into.

His mother gasps as she sees the paint over these walls as well. This room in particular being her favorite guest room. “What have you done?”

“Painted. Like I said.” He continues to fill the second tote bag.

Richard finds his way up the stairs, done waiting for Steve. Eyes landing on the desk where the picture of Julie and her mother rests. Steve grabs it before he can, gently placing it in the tote bag. Throwing some clothes around it so it doesn’t break.

“Has someone been living in here?” his father asks, not willing to admit he recognized the woman in the picture.

Steve takes a deep breath. “Oh no one special. Just your daughter.”

His parents stiffen at the same time. Bringing a sly smile to Steve’s face.

“I don’t have a daughter,” his mother says with feigned confidence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him.” He meets his father’s eyes again. “I was talking about Julie.”

As fast the smile formed of Steve’s face, it’s smacked off. Cheek stinging with the contact of his father’s hand. His mother gasps, scolding her husband. Knowing nothing would stop him from doing it again. Steve grabs the desk chair, using it to balance him as he gets his bearings. Waits for the ringing in his ear to calm down, for the breath to return to his lungs.

“You are never to speak that name again,” Richard commands. “She is nothing.”

“Julie is not nothing.” Steve manages to stand, only to have to grip the chair again when Richard’s fist makes contact again. Lip darting out to taste the blood coming from his split lip. A short laugh escapes as he stands, planting his feet stronger this time. “You really thought I’d never figure out about her.”

“You think you are so tough, don’t you, Steven. Changing your room, getting a job, housing someone you don’t know. All of that you could do because of me. All of that you are going to lose. What will come of you when you don’t have us paying for everything anymore? When you can’t come crawling back to us when life gets hard.”

Steve manages to stand again. Plants his feet the way he’s learned to. Treating his father like every other monster he’s faced. Wishing that there was a bat in his hand to twirl around. Make a show of protecting himself.

He doesn’t need it this time. Richard might pretend to be strong and menacing, but he’s just a person. Who got a few good hits in because Steve wasn’t prepared for them. He is now.

“You would know something about housing someone you don’t know. You’ve been housing me for twenty years.”

Richard’s arm raises again, but Steve was ready for it this time. Catching his wrist before it can contact Steve’s face. It surprises the both of them, but Steve doesn’t let his guard down. His eyes dart to his mother, who hides just barely behind Richard. Laura was never one for confrontation, and now he’s something more than just her son. Now he’s a threat.

“I am more than what you think I am. I changed my room because I never liked the old one. Because I should feel welcome in my childhood home. I got the job because if my hard work, not because of my name. I gave Julie a home because she is my sister, that is a fact. And because her and I have something in common. Our father knows nothing about us.”

“Let go of me, Steven.” For the first time, Richard is the one with fear in his eyes.

“Are you going to hit me again?” Steve tightens his grip.

Richard shakes his head. “No, no I’m not. Don’t do anything rash here, Steven.”

Steve lets go of Richard’s wrist with a swing, letting it slam back into him. “I go by Steve, but you both always ignored that anyway. I’m not some kid you get to push around anymore, no matter how hard you’ll try. You might think I’m stupid for staying here after you told me to get out, you might think what I’m doing is pointless. But I’m not doing all of this for me anymore, I’m doing it for me and for Julie. Because while you thought she was just something you could pay to never think about again, you missed out on a pretty great kid.”

He takes a deep breath. “But I guess you’re used to that. You missed out on the kid you kept around. Even if you weren’t here to see me grow up. I hope it all was worth it. It was a lot of hell for me.”

Steve grabs the tote bags, slinging one over each shoulder and the other in his hand. Taking a moment to realize that this is the last time he’ll ever set foot in this house. It’ll no longer be his home. It should be sadder than it is. There were many good memories among the bad that happened here. But he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. It’s not over yet, but he’s free of one of his chains.

“You going to let me leave? Not like you want me here anyway.”

Neither of them moves. Not ready to admit they lost.

“Where are you going to go?” Laura asks like she cares. She might, but it was too little too late at this point.

“You don’t get to know that.”

Laura lowers her head in a nod, accepting. Steve pushes his way past them and down the stairs. Finding his keys.

Richard follows him down, not willing to give up. “Don’t think you can have the car, we paid for that. It’s ours.”

Steve laughs, undoing a keychain Robin made him from the ring. “I know, was just getting this off.” He tosses Richard the keys. “There you go. House key is on there too, so you won’t have to bother about me coming back.”

He grabs his flashlight from the hall closet before opening the door. Sparing one last look at his parents, to find anything that shows remorse. All he sees is Richard’s hard stare and Laura’s sorry eyes. Nothing calling him to stay.

So he leaves.

. . .

Julie was lucky she didn’t get lost. She followed the directions and, after a while, saw the porch light. The last bit of sunlight helps her get the rest of the way there. Illuminating the path just slightly so she doesn’t trip.

“Hey,” a voice says from beside her, making her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Julie turns to see the Chief holding a flashlight, the light pointing towards her. “I think you would have even if I knew you were there.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s getting cold out here.” Hopper steps in front of her, leading her the rest of the way.

Joyce is waiting for them in the house. Getting up from the couch when they open the door. “You’ve been out there for a while. I was getting worried. Oh honey, you’re shaking, are you cold?”

Julie looks down at her hands, seeing them shake. She doesn’t feel cold. More in shock than anything. Afraid of something she’s never really experienced. Only hearing his voice once over the phone. That was enough to spark fear. Not for her, but for Steve.

It was all she could think about when she was walking. What Steve was going to face when his parents saw that he wasn’t there. If they saw what they did to their rooms. If they saw her.

She agreed it was probably best that she wasn’t there. It would have probably made it all ten times worse. But leaving Steve alone in that house, with them. It felt like a bad idea.

He can take care of himself, she knew that. That didn’t stop her from feeling like she should be there. Be a barrier to stop them from hurting him. In whatever way they were going to. Maybe if there was a witness, he could leave without a fight.

“Julie, sweetie, are you ok?” Joyce’s warm voice breaks through her thoughts.

Julie tries to say something, but nothing comes out. It hits her all at once how scared she was for him.

“What time is it?” she asks.

Joyce checks the clock in the living room. “Just about seven thirty, why?”

Julie left a little after seven. So, assuming Steve left right after her, he should be here soon. And if he left a bit later, he should be here by eight. That’s if nothing went wrong. If they didn’t get into an argument. Or he didn’t get lost.

“He said he’d get here within the hour. So by eight. If nothing happened. Do you think something will happen?” Her voice can’t help but shake.

Joyce makes a face that is supposed to help but doesn’t. Full of sympathy, but one of no answers. “I’m not sure. But whatever it is, he’ll be fine. I know he will.”

“And if he isn’t?” Julie keeps seeing the small person that Steve becomes when he talks to his father. How the light drains out of him, and he becomes a shell of the person he is. His father isn’t even in person and can do that. What will happen when he is in person?

“He will be,” Joyce assures. “How about you come in, sit down. Can I get you anything? Water, hot chocolate?”

Julie lets herself be led to the living room. “Water would be nice.”

“Alright. El here if you want to see her, have someone to sit with.”

“Yeah, yes. I would like that.”

Joyce smiles at her. “Ok, I’ll go get her for you. Jim.” She nods her head toward the kitchen before heading down the hall.

Hopper brings her a glass of water, which she takes. Taking a sip before setting it on the table, seeing how her hands still shake. Joyce comes back down the hall motioning for Hopper to join her in the kitchen. Leaving Julie alone in the living room. Until El comes to sit next to her.

“Joyce told me about what happened,” she says softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“He used to hit my mom,” Julie blurts out. “He used to hit my mom when they were together, and she made him angry. Steve made him angry. I know he did. He called the house last week and, and kicked us out. And we didn’t leave yet, because we couldn’t. Steve doesn’t get the keys for a few more days. What if he hits Steve, too?”

El’s hands find hers, holding them together to calm the shaking. Julie turns her head to meet El’s eyes. Seeing an expression that feigns strength but fear still rests in her eyes. She’s scared for Steve too.

“I have known Steve for longer that you have. I know how strong he is, how brave he is. He will be ok. I promise.” There’s a certainty in her words.

Somehow, Julie believes her. “Ok. Ok, yeah. Yeah. He’ll be ok.”

“Would you like a hug?”

Julie nods. Her breath starting to even out again, the adrenaline keeping her tears at bay failing.

El opens her arms and leans forward to give Julie a hug. Julie takes it with a choked sob, tears starting to fall. El pats her back awkwardly, not quite sure what to do but it’s helping. With a few deep breaths, Julie’s able to pull herself together. Pulling away from El to wipe the tears from her eyes. She won’t be ok until Steve shows up, but she’s better. For now.

“Thanks, that helped.”

El smiles. “Good. Do you want to watch something while we wait? Keep your mind off of it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

El clicks on the tv, finding a channel with some reruns that Julie doesn’t pay attention to. Her mind is still on Steve. Knowing that the there’s no sunlight left to guide the way, and he has no walkie to let her know when she’s coming. Yet she still grips the one resting in her lap. Hoping by some miracle she hears Steve’s voice through the staticky connection and knows he’s ok.

But nothing comes through. The only noise filling the house is the tv, and the not so silent whispering between Joyce and the Chief in the kitchen. After a while, Hopper heads back outside with the flashlight, walkie stuffed in his jacket pocket. He’s going to look for Steve.

It feels like forever before there’s a knock at the door. Making Julie sit up straighter. Joyce emerges from the kitchen to open it. A very winded Steve behind the door, tote bags slung over his shoulder and flashlight in hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes while catching his breath. “I had to go the long way.”

Joyce ushers him in. Steve barely gets a chance to put the bags down before Julie’s on her feet and pulling him into a hug.

“You’re ok.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Did you get here ok, I know I kind of freaked you out.”

Julie lets go. “Freaked me out. Steve, you terrified the shit out of me. After the phone call last week and the little I knew about him I,” she pauses when she sees his split lip. “He hit you?”

Steve touches his lip. “Yeah, he, uh, he did. But I’m ok. I’ve had far worse than this.”

“You say that like it makes it ok. It doesn’t.”

He looks down with a shake of his head. “I know it doesn’t.”

“He really hit you because you didn’t leave.” Julie can’t seem to wrap her head around the idea. But then, she would never hit someone for any reason. Let alone that.

Steve clears his throat. “Sort of. Why don’t you go sit with El for a bit, I have to talk to Joyce for a second.”

She gives him a confused look, knowing he didn’t answer her question fully. But she still goes to sit on the couch again. Him and Joyce go to the kitchen, speaking in whispers. Something tells her that reason he was attacked was because of her.

. . .

Joyce uses her walkie to let Hopper know that Steve is at the house. She gets him a glass of water and makes him sit down, looking at his lip.

“It’s really not that bad. You and I both know this is the least beat up I’ve ever been after a fight.”

She sits down in the chair across from him. “You should listen to Julie. That still doesn’t make it ok.”

He looks down at his hands. “I know. Just easier to think of it that way. Out of all the things he’s done, he’s never hit me before.”

Hopper comes into the kitchen, sitting down next to Joyce. “You ok, kid?”

Steve shakes his head. “I will be, just need a second. Thanks for making sure she got here. Making sure she was safe. I didn’t know what would happen if he saw her there. Just knowing that she was there at all was the reason why,” he can’t finish the sentence.

“Of course. You both can stay here as long as you need to,” Joyce offers.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Hopper crosses his arms. “You could press charges if you wanted, make your case a little stronger.”

“It’s my word against his, and my mom will never speak out against him.” She never did before, why would it change now. “Can I use your phone, I need to make some calls.”

Joyce nods and Steve heads to the phone in the hall. Pulling out Sarah’s number from his pocket. Dialing it with a deep breath. She wouldn’t be happy with this.

She wasn’t. Cursing Steve through the phone with an “I told you so”. But grateful that Julie is safe, grateful that he is too. She gives him a day before she’ll say anything. Give him time to make it look like Julie was just at an extended sleepover. For them to move. He thanks her just before she hangs up.

Robin is next. Takes a second to make sure he’s ok before cursing out his dad. Offering to go over there herself and give him a piece of her mind. He tells her it’s a bad idea, she disagrees, but still says she will keep it all for when she sees him in court. That way there will be witnesses. She makes sure he’s ok, offers to come over. Steve assures that he’s fine and will talk to her again in the morning.

The last person is Eddie. Steve already knows how he’ll react, but still hopes he won’t freak out that much.

“Where are you right now?” he asks after Steve fills him in.

“The Byers. It was the closest place that was safe.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Steve holds the phone closer to his mouth. “Eds, really. You don’t have to come over.”

“Like hell I don’t.” Eddie hangs up before Steve can protest anymore.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see Eddie right now. That if knowing that his boyfriend was willing to drop everything just to be there with him right now didn’t bring him comfort. Part of him didn’t want Eddie to see him like this, though. Fragile, partially homeless. Taken a few hits to the face.

As if Eddie hasn’t seen Steve beat up before. Pretty much all of Hawkins has, it’s a reoccurring event. But those times were different. It was because of his own idiocy or protecting someone. This was at the hands of someone that already caused him more pain than he should have gone through. He didn’t know how to admit that he got hit for no reason.

He heads back to the kitchen, tells them that Eddie’s coming over. They don’t say much, but have a knowing look in their eye. One that scares the hell out of him, but makes him feel seen at the same time. Steve could be himself in this house. Around these people. It wasn’t even his, and it felt more like home than he’s ever known.

“I never asked if you were ok,” Steve says as he sits down next to Julie. “Are you?”

Julie shrugs. “As ok as I can be I guess.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Did he hit you because of me?” Julie asks after a pause.

Steve would do anything to lie to her right now. To dart around the question and make up some excuse. Knowing her, she would see right through it. She didn’t need him lying to add to tonight. But would it be better for her to know the truth?

There’s a knock at the door before Steve can try to answer. He thinks it’s for the best. Enough has happened for one night.

He stands when Joyce opens the door. Almost getting pushed out of the way when Eddie sees Steve in the living room. They meet in a hug, Steve feeling more relieved that he thought he would.

“Those jackasses couldn’t have waited a few more days before they finally came home. They had to do it while you were still there.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Yeah well, they never had the best timing.”

Eddie notices the cut on his lip when he pulls back from the hug. Eyes filling with anger. “I’m actually going to get arrested for murder this time.”

“Eds, it’s really not that bad.”

“Not that bad.” Eddie’s voice raises. “Not that bad, Steve. You have a fucking split lip. Your eye is puffy.”

Steve tries to calm Eddie down, still conscious of the people around them. Trying not to make it look too revealing. “It could be worse.”

He sees Joyce say something to the girls that gets them to leave and head down the hall. Leaving him and Eddie alone in the living room.

“How hard did he hit you? Can you hear me alright? What about your vision, nothing’s blurry. You can still see fine?” Eddie clocks when they leave, grabbing Steve’s head with both his hands, assessing the damage.

Steve tries to pull Eddie’s hands away, make this less of a big deal. “I can hear and see fine. He didn’t hit me hard enough to do anything. I’ve had worse, it’s the least concerning thing that’s happened in the last few hours.”

“Your father, a grown man, assaulted you. His son. And you think there are more concerning things that happened in the last few hours.” Eddie’s face falls. “Just because you’re an adult when he hit you doesn’t make it better.”

“I know that,” he admits. Starting to feel the weight of everything finally sink in. “I just don’t know how to process it all right now. Tonight’s been a lot and I just need a minute, a day, I don’t know. Something. I just can’t think about that right now.”

“Ok,” Eddie says softly. “Ok. Then we won’t talk about it anymore. When every you’re ready. Does it hurt though, do you need ice or anything? Last thing, I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no. It’s ok. I’m ok right now.”

Eddie nods. Kissing Steve before pulling him into another hug.

Just when Steve gets his life together, it all falls apart again. Or at least feels like it. In just a few days, the pieces will be put back into place. His life will get back on schedule. His schedule. Where he can move into a house that he bought, with his own money. To a job that he got, by himself. And life that has nothing to do with his last name.

Even if the court date is a few months away, and he’ll have to see his parents again. But after that, he’ll never have to interact with them again. He will be permanently free.

Right now. He’s trying to hold it all together. Making his brain slow down to give himself a minute to breath. Before the crushing reality of all that just happened presses down on his chest. And they’ll take hold of his mind again. Just for a little while, then he’ll break free again.

Joyce insists they stay the night. Explaining how Julie is already set up in El’s room, and how the two of them can take the pull-out couch. Just like that, with no explanation needed. Or excuses. Maybe Steve could tell everyone about them soon.

It’s still early when everyone goes to bed. Just wanting the day to be over, even if they’re not tired. But the comfort of darkness lets Eddie scoot closer, hold Steve a little tighter. Make him feel put together even though he’s slowly starting to fall apart.

Tomorrow is a new day. With plenty of problems to be solved and conversations to be had. Telling the rest of the group to stay clear of his old house and change his contact information with a few people. Try to get the keys a few days earlier.

Tonight is meant for sleep. To float around and exist without anything pressing his mind. Wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms and feel comfort for a brief moment. Until his looks in the mirror again and see the healing cut on his lip, and the slight bruise on his cheek. Almost fall apart all over again until he pulls himself back together. Each time a little weaker than the last until he finally breaks.

It’s so easy to fall back into old habits. To bottle everything up for the sake of other. For the sake of himself. Steve really can’t process everything right now. It would sting more that it already does. So, it gets pushed away. Until he’s ready to face it again.

He only hopes that time will be sooner than most. So he doesn’t blow up at someone that’s undeserving. Saying something he can’t take back.

But right now, he doesn’t need to think about that. Right now he needs to sleep.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

[thenamessparkplug]

The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable. 

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.  

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived? 

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man. 

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation. 

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused. 

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

[woso-fan13]

28. Chronic Illness

“.. I’m a cancer, so obviously it didn’t work,” Alex finishes her sentence as you walk into the room. 

“Really?” You ask, perking up, “me too. We’re twins, even if it’s not the best thing to twin with.”

Alex startles slightly when your voice is first heard behind her. Turning around, she smiles and motions you into the conversation. There were no seats open so you walk over and plunk into her lap, making yourself comfortable. 

“Wait, Y/N, isn’t your birthday in February?” Rose asks. 

“Yeah?” You respond, somewhat confused. 

“How can you be a cancer then?” she questions. 

“Is that what you said?” you ask, looking up to Alex, “I thought you said that you had cancer. I need to start paying better attention when other people talk.” 

The conversation continues for another moment until the room suddenly goes quiet. It seems like everyone processed what you said at the same time. 

“Kid, why did you say we were twins earlier?” Alex asks hesitantly, unsure if she wants to know the answer. 

“Hmm? Oh, that! I misheard you, I thought that you said that you had cancer.”

“I know that, but I am a cancer. You’re not,” she tries to rationalize. 

“I’m not, I’m an aquarius,” you affirm. 

“So you’re not a cancer?” 

“I’m not a cancer,” you pause, “but I do have cancer, so I can see the confusion.”

Everyone had been trying to piece the conversation together, so they had an idea of what you were going to say. Still, hearing you say those simple words caused some players to let out exaggerated gasps. You turn your head to the sound, furrowing your brow. 

“Is this news?” 

Frantic heads nodding confirms that this is, in fact, news to them. Everyone looked like they wanted to talk, but nobody could find the words. Thankfully, you had become a master of handling awkward conversations, so you could handle this. 

“I’ve had it for a while now, I just always assumed that you guys knew. I had leukemia when I was a toddler, but I don’t remember that. But it put me at higher risk of developing cancer again, and I relapsed about 3 years ago. After about 2 years, so last year, I went into remission. I was only in remission for a few months when tests confirmed that I had relapsed again. So I’ve been doing my treatment and everything, I’ve just been timing it so that the worst of the symptoms are over when I get to camp.”

“And I know, health always comes first. And I promise, I’m taking it really seriously. I have a great oncologist and a stable treatment plan, and I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing. I haven’t been playing as much, Vlatko always pulls me out of practice early. And he never lets me play a full 90 anymore, but at least I'm playing. I'm doing what I love.”

—-

Everything was going according to schedule until it wasn’t. One of the games got moved up, so camp was a week earlier than it should have been. Which left you scrambling from chemo directly to the airport and still arriving late to camp. 

You had gotten a pass from Vlatko to sit out on team dinner and game analysis that night, instead finding your room and falling asleep as soon as you could. The day had been long and hard, and you knew the upcoming days would likely be rough. But you were determined not to get sick, to prove that you were strong. You really thought that you could ‘mind over matter’ your post-chemo symptoms away. 

Matter won out around 7am, when your eyes suddenly opened. The all too familiar feeling was back and left you racing for the bathroom. You barely make it in time, the bathroom door is still open and the lights off, but you made it to the toilet, so that was a win. 

You proceed to begin to lose any stomach contents that you may have. It’s not much, breakfast and a snack from the flight, but your body is insistent that it needs to get rid of it. 

You’re so busy that you don’t hear the light footsteps behind you. You’re making enough noise and so stuck in your own head that you don’t hear the faucet turn on, the tap running cool water onto some wash clothes. You don’t even notice anyone approaching you until they are squatting directly behind you. 

Your body is exhausted, ready for unconsciousness any way it can get it. An arm wraps around you from behind, across your chest, effectively preventing you from falling forward. The arm pulls you back into a warm body, Alex’s, her vanilla perfume giving her away. 

You tip your head back, half-lidded eyes looking up to her. She smiles sadly down at you, using one of the damp wash clothes to wipe your face. She wipes around your mouth, folding the fabric over before wiping the rest of your face.

When she finishes, she throws the dirty cloth into the bathtub behind her. She takes the other clean washcloth, draping across the back of your neck. The cool water feels nice, somehow helping the nausea. 

This is not a position that you ever wanted your teammates to see you in. But, here you were, cradled in Alex’s arms, one of her arms supporting your body and her free hand holding the cloth onto you. She was cooing and shushing you gently, trying to stop the involuntary whimpers that kept leaving your mouth. She wasn’t running away disgusted or ignoring you as you worried she might. She was just there 

And you knew that her solid presence would be there whenever you needed. 

[sensei-venus]

(Unedited) (This is months old and goes off a thing me and @gemini-sensei where talking about back in like March, I can’t find the posts but ehh, it’s going off the whole Bully!Reader/Eli thing we where talking about at the time.)

(Fanon timeline so don’t read to much into it- Reader gets pregnant just a little after Miguel shows up, if not slightly before, Reader is about to pop by the time Hawk switches sides to Miyagi do. The dojos are intermingled kinda at this point.)

Training was long these days and it only fueled Hawk’s irritation and internal anxiety. As hard as it was training for long periods of time and doing lesson’s, that wasn’t really the issue. It wasn’t about the physical strenuous activity, the sore muscles and sweat, bloody noses and lips. The punches and kicks didn’t bother him anymore.

It was the literal time that upset him. He spent hours of what was supposed to be his free time at the dojo now.

That left him missing free time with Reader and their soon to be born baby. He couldn’t help but grin as he landed a hit on Miguel, the other boy fumbling back as they separated. The small match over. Hawk continued to think about Reader. She was just shy of a month due and things had finally started to line up just right with their lives. Not only the dojo stuff but Reader’s pregnancy as well.

Just a few weeks ago she had finally gotten passed the big threshold of the pregnancy. Her horrible pregnancy symptoms had started to die down just a bit for her to start enjoying the last run of her pregnancy. She could eat now, she started to regain her balance just a bit, she didn’t vomit every morning or randomly thought the day. It was peaceful for the most part.

But now he he was missing those quiet moments.

“Ok class is over for the day! You guys can hang around or get the hell out. I don’t really care.” Johnny’s voiced from the dojo.

“Please of anyone needs extra help or needs to talk about anything from the lesson stay back and talk to us. We just want to make sure everyone is comfortable with the lesson plan.” Daniel piped in from outside the dojo in the garden area.

Hawk just wanted to go over to Reader’s place right about now. He rolled his eyes at the thought of staying any longer to get bitched at about something or someone. Luckily they didn’t train with their gi’s on so he didn’t have to go change. Walking outside he picked up his bag from beside the dojo wall and looked though it quickly.

“Hey man you going to stay? Me and Demetri where going to stay and mess around with some stuff in the yard. Maybe try the balancing bored again.”

Hawk was so in his head as he rummaged though his bag that he didn’t even hear Miguel come up behind him, his eyebrows frowned as he searched for his phone. He moved around some random things he had in his bag.

“Nah I promised my girlfriend I’d be over at her place for dinner-“ he couldn’t stop himself in time, the statement coming out with no backing. He stopped as soon as he knew he he said to much information. His hands stopped when he found his phone at the bottom of his bag. He clenched it in one hand and he tried to figure out his next move.

He hasn’t told anyone at the dojo, not even Demetri, about Reader let alone the baby. It was something he was desperate to keep privet. It wasn’t because of Reader or the baby themselves it was somethings else that lingers under his skin that makes him want to keep it a secret. At first it was because he pissed to many people off and he didn’t want Reader involved. Then it was the whole being a jackass and bully for months. Then it was the dojo war which he refused to get Reader involved in. Even though just about everyone at the mixed dojo was cool with him now to a extent, he still had nightmares of retaliation. It was his secret to carry at the moment.

“Wait what when did you get a girlfriend? No way, your lying. If you had a girlfriend you would definitely have told us by now, I haven’t heard one bragging right come out of you and that’s all you do is brag.” Miguel playfully joked. Demetri stood next to Miguel as Hawk got up and fixed his bag. He zipped it up before throwing it over his shoulder and around to face them. He tried his best to put on a poker face.

He laughed saying “Yeah you caught me! I was just messing with you guys- big joke. If I had a girlfriend I would definitely tell you guys or you would have seen her around. Stupid joke anyway.” He chewed at his bottom lip saying “But no, I have uh, something thing to do with my mom later on. Can’t miss it. See you guys later.” He pushed past the two boys before trying I walkout of the yard. He didn’t even get half way though the open area when he felt a hand on his shoulder that pulled him him. He whipped around to face the person who was actually Demetri. His brow raised at his friend.

“Ok well I’m not to good at this kind of stuff but we definitely just got some unknown trigger right now. Are you really going out with someone? No jokes.”

“No it was just a stupid joke man, don’t take it seriously.”

He wanted to just turn right back around and leave before they could try and get him to stay a second longer. He was nervous and irritated at this point and just wanted to get the hell out of there.

“Definitely some kind of defensive wall going up right now. Now who would you be going out with to make you want to lie about it? I don’t think there is anyone who would warrant that kind of reaction and secrecy.”

Miguel chimed in next to Demetri saying “So we know it’s a girl, I’m just guessing from school now, and he doesn’t want up to know about her.”

Hawk felt his hand start to twitch.

The two teens stood there for a moment. The time seemed to tick on as they just sat there.

Demetri scratched at his chin as he thought about it. Miguel doing the same. Demetri tried to think about girls he had seen Hawk with at all, which wasn’t very many now. A few here and there but nothing that screamed out anything.

That’s when Demetri’s eyes went wide.

“Shit I know who it is!”

Hawk paled.

“That girl Reader-“

“You mean the one in my history class? I talked to her a few times. Isn’t she the one who use to bully Hawk before I showed up to west-valley? And isn’t she-“

“Dude she’s pregnant! Like huge about to pop a kid out pregnant! When did that happen!? Why didn’t you tell us, like we are your best friends and you failed to mention that.” Demetri’s voice was loud and it rang out in the semi quiet yard. At this very moment Hawk thought about breaking Demetri’s other arm out of pure anger.

“What are you guys talking about over here?”

“What’s going on?”

“Why are you screaming?”

Some of the other dojo kids walked over along with Johnny and Daniel who had been standing near the entrance of the dojo. Sam, Tory and Robby walked over to join them all.

“Apparently Hawk has been dating Reader and didn’t tell us about it.” Miguel said.

“And why is that effecting you guys so much? Because that’s like a total score of she’s hot.” Johnny said with a smirk, about ready to high five the kid. Sam rolled her eyes saying “Well I mean, I’m pretty sure besides the fact that she use to bully Hawk all the time at school, she pregnant.” Johnny slowly banked down “Okkk wow didn’t think you where into that freaky stuff Hawk- but I mean you do you-“

“Oh my god I’ve been dating her way before she was pregnant, it’s not like that! Uhh” Hawk was beyond gone at this point. The fact he had to now admit his secret out loud made his brain hurt.

“Wait so if you where dating her before she got pregnant-“

“She cheated on you-“

“It’s my fucking baby ok!! Fuck y’all are so nosy, this is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to tell any of you in the first place.”

It was quiet for a long time as everyone took in the new information.

Demetri seemed the most shocked about the news. He was one of the ones to be beside Hawk when he was actively being bullied by Reader on a daily basis at school. The way she use to terrorize him on a level below Kyler.

“Dude I remember back then. She use to literally terrorize you just about every day.”

“Yeah so? Didn’t mean that was the only things she was doing with me.”

“Clearly.”

Hawk wanted to punch him so hard in the balls.

“Our relationship was really weird back then but it’s changed a lot since then. For the better. Back then it was like a role-reversal thing, Reader bullied me because she liked me, and I kinda just let it happen. It was like that for month’s. But things changed when she got pregnant and we kinda admitted all of our feelings and we got together. I fucking love her and I’m not ashamed of it.”

Sam spoke up saying “But then why lie to us about it? Why keep it a secret for so long. We have all seen Reader in the hallways and she’s literally about to have the baby like soon.”

“Next month actually…..”

“Exactly, so what where you going to do then. Just keep the secret going?”

“I didn’t really think that far. I just-“

He sighed.

“With all the dojo stuff happening and then all the bullying stuff, I just couldn’t let the information get out ok? What would have happened if anyone found out my weakness. All of you saw what happened. What I tell everyone that my girlfriend is pregnant with my baby and then the next thing you knew they are-“ he couldn’t physically continue his sentence. Everyone seemed to understand why.

“Hawk you know that we- at the dojo would never do something like that right. We would never hurt someone outside the dojo let alone a pregnant person right?” Miguel replied back to him. His voice was pitched as his emotions fell though. Miguel knew that none of them would ever go that far no matter what.

“You can’t tell me after all of that, I couldn’t believe it would?”

“That’s the women I love, carrying my- our baby. There was no way I was going to put them in harms way because of the stupid shit that I was doing or was involved in. No matter what.” Hawk grabbed his bag and rushed off not wanting to continue this conversation.

He just wanted to go home to Reader.



[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: This is the first fanfic I'm publishing in almost 10 years and I'm new to the character x you/reader writing style, so if anything sounds odd or awkward, I deeply apologize. The story is mainly based on the game, however, I keep it pretty vague so if you like the show descriptions better, it should still work.

wc: 3734

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter One

2013; Ten years since the CBI outbreak

The sunlight was trickling in through the cracks of the murky window of the old clothing store’s bathroom you barricaded yourself in last night; the rays dimly split across the subway-tiled walls. You lay still on your side, staring at the dense moss that covered the dark corners and the vines that weaved their way through the cracks in the tile. The morning was chilly, causing you to pull your long sleeve over your hands, balling the open ends in your fist to not allow any heat to escape. You close your eyes momentarily, not quite ready to face whatever today brings. For a few moments, you wanted to not have to face reality. Opening your eyes once again and taking in a deep breath of the cool spring air, you slowly rose to your feet, fully extending your arms above your head with your fingers intertwined, trying to straighten out the kink that has been in the middle of your back for the past few days. You wince as you lean from side to side.

You haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and it was starting to take a toll on you mentally. You know you aren’t being as careful as you should— accidentally knocking into things when scavenging, tripping over your own feet, nodding off out in the open when you take a midday rest from walking. It was only a matter of time before one of these things got you into some kind of trouble, trouble that you might not be able to get out of unscathed. The thought of it makes you shudder.

The nightmare of this world has only gotten worse now that you’re on your own again. It had been quite some time since it had been like this, and it was easy to forget how dangerous and scary it was to be alone. The small community you’d been settled into for the past few years was attacked and overrun three weeks ago. By whom, you don’t know. FEDRA, the Fireflies, some other militia group—they're all the same now, and the number of these bloodthirsty groups seems to only increase as time goes on. They supposedly stand for different things, all against each other; however, the one thing that they all have in common is that they’re always out for blood. 

You were among the lucky few who had not been inside the broken-down apartment building when the attack happened. Even luckier, you knew the ins and outs of the surrounding area, so it wasn’t hard to escape the fight unnoticed. A small part of you still feels guilty for not trying to help; you knew of families inside who were just trying to survive—elderly and children. In the weeks following the attack, you tried not to think about it; you tried to focus on your own survival, but the thought always came to mind just as you were about to fall asleep, and deep down, you feel guilty for running. It’s fucked up that this is what the world has come to; it makes you angry. 

Taking a seat back on the cold floor and crossing your legs, you lay out the contents of your backpack. At the time of the attack, you were on your way back from doing a supply run. You had been helping two of the men out by going along to try and keep the small group afloat. Unfortunately, the immediate area around the apartment building had been picked out pretty well, so finding supplies became harder and harder as time went on, and it was hard to plan longer treks to find supplies since there were so few people who were able to offer protection. You were unable to find anything that day; all you had was what you left with: a revolver with three bullets, your gas mask and flashlight you took from a FEDRA soldier back in Denver, a fixed-blade knife that has become dull due to daily use, a torn map of Colorado, two decently sized canteens of water, and a few emergency ration bars that expired four years ago. You were now down to half a canteen of water and had two ration bars left, trying to stretch what you had left. Thankfully, a few days ago, you came across an orange tree. You picked all the ones you could reach, filling up the vacant space in your bag.

You grab one of the oranges from the pile you made; it’s just a little smaller than your palm and wasn’t quite ripe enough for peak enjoyment. You carefully begin peeling back the thick layer, creating a pile of peels on the dust-layered tile floor. Halving the orange, setting one half on your thigh, picking apart the other half in your hand, and popping one of the slices in your mouth. You squish it against the roof of your mouth with the force of your tongue, and the juices quickly fill your mouth. You lean against the wall behind you and close your eyes. The cool air and sweet smell of citrus trigger a memory. You remember better days before the outbreak, specifically one where you were sitting in the grass with your friend just as spring arrived. The weather in Texas was perfect—not too warm or too cold; a slight breeze danced across your skin. Your friend Nessa brought back an absurd amount of oranges from her parent’s home that day, and the two of you ate them until you were sick. Laughing. Exchanging gossip you both heard around school. Giggling over which teacher assistants you found attractive. I swear he would stare at me with bedroom eyes during office hours, Nessa joked. Maybe he was frightened because you were looking at him as if he were some prey you wanted to pounce on... had to keep an eye on you, so he wouldn’t catch a case or somethin’. She rolled her eyes at your response. You miss those days; you miss being 16 and carefree. You miss companionship, especially Nessa. A small part of you hopes she’s out there somewhere, hopefully, better off than you are. The feeling of guilt quickly fills your chest, but this time it's for a different reason. You wished you could go back to the day of the outbreak, you wished you would have looked for her instead of running. Maybe things would have turned out differently, at least you’d have her by your side.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away and drying your eyes with the cuff of your ragged long-sleeve shirt. The moisture stains the sleeve, turning it from a light olive color to dark mossy green splotches. As you’re drying your eyes, the remaining half of your orange slides off your thigh, landing on the floor. Dust now clinging to the sides, you toss it toward one of the corners. Looks like it’ll be a light breakfast today, you thought. You pop the last slice of the first half in your mouth and grab the map from the side of your pack. Carefully opening it up and laying it on your lap, you hover your finger over your current approximate location, tapping it a few times with the tip of your index finger. A few days ago, you reached Fort Collins. It took you a lot longer to get here than it should have, mainly because you kept zigzagging between different places. You now only have about eight miles until you reach city limits, which means you have to decide where you are heading next—something you’ve been putting off since you were forced out of the apartment. 

Finding communities nowadays is few and far between, especially in civilized places, places that offer a sense of safety. When the outbreak began, you were in Houston, Texas. Within the first week, you found refuge at the Houston QZ. Unfortunately, it fell within the first year due to people becoming infected from inside the zone. Nobody knew if the cause of the infection was in the food, the water, or the air. Nobody knew much of anything back then. After Houston, you decided to head north for the Denver QZ. From what you heard, it was still in operation, the conditions weren’t the best; however, they could have been much worse looking back. Eventually, you wanted to head east; you knew it was a long shot, but your family was there, and quite honestly, you didn’t know what else to do. After a grueling month or so of making your way to Denver with some survivors from Houston, picking up a few stragglers along the way, you finally reached the zone. The first few years weren’t all too bad, however, it quickly became corrupt. By your 7th year of being there, outside attacks began happening weekly, punishments were becoming more and more severe; instead of a few days in lockup for being out past curfew, it turned into weeks, which then turned into public beatings. Last you heard, they were shooting people on site for violating curfew by mere seconds. Those weren’t the only major issues, however. Rations began running low. First, they were handing out half rations for the full amount of required ration cards, then it turned into thirds for double the amount of cards. People became desperate, more and more left during the night to look elsewhere for food and supplies. It put a target on a lot of people’s backs if they weren’t careful enough, and since it was punishable by death, a lot of people lost their lives. You either risk starving to death or risk trying to survive. That seemed to be the motto of today’s world.

Even though you stuck around at the Denver QZ for the majority of the outbreak, leaving wasn’t hard. You had a few people you became close with at the beginning, but they either ended up dead or leaving, so after the last one left, you never made any more close ties with anyone. You kept your head down, kept conversations to a minimum, did what you were told, and only created business-type relationships with the stupidest and weakest of FEDRA soldiers. Leaving wasn't the hard part, you realized. It was being completely isolated and alone. Scared and alone. With time, you became tactical and stealthy, learning how the world outside of QZs worked as you went. Even when you had people around you, they weren’t your people. You didn’t want to have to worry about anyone but yourself, you thought it’d be better that way. However, traveling in these conditions by yourself isn’t exactly ideal, but you make it work. You have to. You watch your back, carefully listen to all the surrounding sounds, and think critically before you act. It’s become second nature. You take all the proper precautions to not only protect yourself from the infected, but also from the other people living in this hellhole.

When the world changed, so did the people. The lawless land quickly turned for the worse. Nobody was safe from one another, women and children were more vulnerable than the rest. People became savages, which often made you wonder if humankind had always been this cruel, and if this world was what enabled them to be their true selves.

After putting everything back into your backpack, you carefully tie the laces of your boots up, making sure to secure the laces around your ankle for extra support. The last thing you needed was to twist your ankle, last time it happened, you were out for several days. In the corner of the bathroom, where you tossed the tainted ration bar earlier, sat your old pair of boots, the ones your parents bought you many years ago. The tape was peeling away from both soles, the left one had a gaping hole on the side where the side of your foot would rub. You just happened to find these stuffed in the back of the small stockroom yesterday, there were a few pairs of various sizes. Other than these being a half size too big, they were perfect. Eventually, you needed to find a thicker pair of socks to make them truly fit, but for now, that really didn’t matter. 

After putting your pack on and tightening the straps, so it fits snugly on your back, you holster your gun on your right hip and prepare your knife in your hand for quick use. You begin to mentally prepare yourself for today’s trek. 

Carefully opening the door, you put your ear up to the small opening you created. You listen closely. Listening for any movement, any screams or cries, or any noise that could indicate potential danger nearby. The last few days have been rather quiet—a little too quiet for your liking. You’ve run into a few infected, easily putting them down with your knife. They haven't been running in groups like they usually do. It puts you on edge because you know it could change for the worse at any given moment, and nothing can prepare you for the quick turn of events. You stand there for a few minutes, listening, trying to slow your breathing to heighten your sense of hearing. Not picking up on anything, you proceed with caution. As you walk towards the exit of the store, you glance around at the remaining intact shelving and floor in case you missed anything on your initial sweep yesterday. With all the rubble from the initial bombings and the greenery that invaded the building, it was hard to see much of anything on the floor, but you were desperate for anything. Food. Water. Perhaps some sanity. 

You had no clue where you were going once you made it out of Colorado. Things weren’t looking good in the east, at least from what you heard when you would eavesdrop outside the radio room back at the Denver QZ. You discarded the idea of reuniting with your family back home when you decided to leave. You had to come to terms with how small the chances were that they were even alive, let alone reuniting with them. This morning, you thought of continuing north and heading for Wyoming. Back at the apartment, a man named Charles was talking in the makeshift community room late one night, telling the others he’d been thinking of heading to Wyoming with his two kids. He knew someone who worked in the radio room back at the Boston QZ, they told him they heard of some safe haven in Jackson; supposedly they had food, electricity, and a safe community. Although there was no real, solid evidence that such a thing still existed, if it ever truly existed at all, Charles said it was worth the risk for his kids. He didn’t want them to grow up like this, so he ended up leaving with them the day after. You thought it was stupid and too much of a risk considering how young his kids were, but you couldn’t really judge him for trying. You started to live more in your own head than in reality, mainly yearning for a better future and hoping there was someplace out there that would give you a sense of normalcy. You were no better than Charles. You still really aren’t that much better, are you?  

At this point, the sun was at its peak. The air is cool and starting to feel like spring with every passing day. The mornings are still chilly, but by midday it's warm. You take a moment to stop, taking off your long sleeve and tying it around your waist. You notice the back of your ankles beginning to throb and decide to take a break. You find homage on a shaded area of a curb behind an old rusted car, the windows have been completely smashed in, and vines have woven through the tire’s hubcaps and begun wrapping around the door handles.  As you’re sitting there, massaging your calves with your hands, a feeling of dread washes over you. A familiar feeling with a hint of anxiety. 

You begin to doubt the plan you made . What the fuck am I doing? The thought rushes to the forefront of your mind . 

You quickly pull the map from the side pocket of your backpack and open it all the way. Your eyes dart at all the different markings, dragging your fingers along the creases you’ve made due to folding and unfolding it constantly. 

Okay, so you reach Wyoming, you get to Jackson, and there’s nothing there? Then what do you do? You become overwhelmed with defeat, a heat washing over your face and filling your chest with a burning sensation. Fuck.

Losing yourself completely in the map and your own doomed thoughts, you barely notice the sound of crushed glass coming from your immediate right. A sense of danger triggers something deep within you, causing your stomach to turn. Quickly, but quietly, putting the map away, you position yourself in a crouching, ready to run, position, peering through the back windows of the car. Glancing quickly behind you, you notice that most of the buildings had been hit pretty hard during the initial bombing, and there was no easy or quick access to get inside. However, between two of the buildings, there's a shallow alley that you could quickly revert to if you end up needing more coverage. Just as you tried to make an escape plan, the blood-curdling shriek of an infected stumbling out of one of the buildings echoed through the vacant city, causing you to snap your attention back to the front. Slightly ducking for more coverage, you watch carefully, glancing between the buildings. Then another responds to the initial one’s cries, coming from a building to the left, two more suddenly appear, one tripping over the light pole that fell in front of the doorway. No fucking way, they’re going to draw more out to the street, fear quickly occupies your mind . Your heart is now beating fast as you watch more come from different directions, you haven't been caught in a swarm of this many on your own before. You unholster your gun, just in case, but you know you can’t get caught, not with two bullets and a knife. Close combat with just one of those things is scary enough, let alone with no one else around to help if things start going south. 

You start to turn on your feet to head to the alley, as it is your only hope now, when a loud clicking comes from behind you, immediately stopping you from taking another step. Oh no, fuck. A sinking feeling rapidly develops in your chest. You turn slowly toward the noise, trying to shallow your breathing. Your eyes widen as you spot the clicker coming from one of the buildings behind you, trying to crawl out of a narrow opening beneath a fallen slab of concrete. You sink lower against the back of the car door, putting your free hand over your mouth, scared to make any noise, scared to breathe. It’s moving slowly once it makes its way up onto its feet, turning its head and cocking it towards its shoulder; its arms are twitching uncontrollably, and it begins making that awful clicking noise that sends a chill down your spine. The orange slices from this morning are suddenly sitting in the middle of your throat, ready to come up at any moment.

In your peripheral view, you see movement coming from the alley, next to the building the clicker had just come out of. A man with dirty blonde hair is crouching down near the edge of the building. He’s holding his index finger to his mouth, gun in hand, aimed toward the ground. His finger is hovering over the trigger. You look between him and the gun as the clicker passes by you and the car, making its way slowly to the rest of the infected now roaming the street.

The blood has drained from your face. You are frozen in shock, not daring to move an inch. Your back is pressed firmly against the side of the car door, and your eyes are locked on the man's face. All you can do is stare, you tighten your hand around the grip of your gun, your knuckles turning white. He’s intensely looking in the direction of the infected before glancing briefly at you. A bead of sweat smoothly and steadily runs down the side of his temple before dropping off his face.

With his head, he motions for you to come his way.

“C’mon, hurry this way,” he says in a very low, urgent whisper, causing the infected to cry out in response. You don’t move.

He looks annoyed and shakes his head, still keeping an eye on the potential danger ahead.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now,” he quickly lets out, at the same volume as before. “I could have done it multiple times today; I could’ve come up behind you when you were lookin’ at your map. Come. Now.”

This time he said it more firmly, and this time you listened. You turn your head and look once more out of the car windows to make sure the coast is clear before making your way toward him. He guides you in front of him, motioning to go into the depths of the alley. Your heart is beating deeply and fast, air is stuck in your lungs.  You both turn the corner before standing up completely, the man walks ahead before turning to face you. He holsters his gun, placing both his hands on his hips, and lets out a long breath that seemed like he had been holding in for a little too long. You let your breath go as well. 

He is taller than you had anticipated. He's solid with broad shoulders. His hair is shaggy, now looking more brown than blonde, and slightly curly. 

“Name’s Tommy,” he says, still in a low tone, but a bit louder than when you two were on the street. You respond with your name, holstering your gun. He gives you a slight nod with a short-lived smile while tugging at the stretched-out collar of his shirt.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tommy responds breathily.

read chapter two here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[monstersinthecosmos]

September 30, 1973

He’d gotten in late, and had sort of a queasy feeling as his feet touched down in the United States again. It didn’t fill him with some patriotic relief, some lust for home, as much as it made his fucking skin crawl. But he’d splashed water on his face in the airport bathroom, and lingered in the terminal long enough for a shitty vending machine coffee, and by the time he’s in the back of a cab twenty minutes later it’s at least settled down to a quiet vibration. He doesn’t chat with the driver, like he might have a month ago, just asks for a motel, and picks at his cuticles and stares out the window for the whole ride.

Does jetlag count when you’re this fucked up? It probably doesn’t apply. Time zones haven’t mattered in weeks, really. His body is still in that shitty room with Louis. The exhaustion is bone deep, though. He passes out the moment he flops onto the hotel bed.

The housekeeper knocking on the door wakes him in the morning. Slept like shit. He wakes enough to tell her he’s fine, and then lies there, staring at nothing. He considers turning on the TV, and stares at the glossy black screen, and it’s like a window to the world he’s left behind. There’s news inside, and kids shows, and music, and things to learn about. It doesn’t feel like his world anymore, though.

His head lolls to the side, and he stares at the telephone. 

Somewhere near the Cincinnati airport, which means he’s in the same time zone as his parents again. It’s been a long time.

It’s early still, which gives him the excuse not to call. He gets out of bed long enough to pull the curtains closed, and then goes back to sleep.

~~

So his stomach rumbles, waking him, telling him it’s lunch time. One eye cracked open sees the clock on the nightstand. A little past ten. 

For the first time in weeks, he knows what day it is, and it centers him. Makes everything feel a little more real. His cab driver had made a comment about it last night, filling the silence with small talk until he realized Daniel wouldn’t entertain him. Said something about all the kids out on Saturday nights.

Ten on a Sunday morning. He considers turning the TV on. Johnny Quest should be on, if that hasn’t changed in his absence. 

His dad will be off. Mom probably putzing around to catch up on some project. He looks at the phone again, considers calling them. Tries to imagine how the conversation would go, and whether or not anyone has noticed him missing.

The two outcomes echo on either side of his head.

His mom asking if he’s coming for Thanksgiving, like it’s any other day, like Daniel is still just being flaky. Or maybe she’s crying in relief, saying things like thank god you’re okay, I was worried sick.

And his father, too. Pissed off and disappointed as always, or covering his emotions with anger, demanding to know where Daniel is.

He curls on his side, his back to the phone. Closes his eyes again. His stomach hurts, but the darkness feels comfortable.

~~

An hour and a half later and he’s dragging himself to a greasy diner down the block. Together enough to get it done, and he doesn’t panic when he talks to people, but orders it to go. He smokes a cigarette and bounces his leg at a booth near the kitchen door while he waits, and thinks he should plan the next few days better. Maybe the next few weeks. Unsure how long this will last before he’s either dead or Armand gets bored. Maybe those two things are one and the same. 

They’re listening to King Crimson in the kitchen, and bits of it wisp out every time the door swings open. It makes Daniel smile, just a little, before he catches himself. That first album had really blown him the fuck away and he’d gotten a little obnoxious about it. In his past life he thinks he’d have the energy to intrude into these guys’ space and start asking questions about it, find out who put it on. Find someone to interview.  

He’d listened to it so much in his senior year of high school. His dad called it heroin music, and asked him to keep the volume down. His mom walked in on him getting high to it one night, because it was too cold outside and he didn’t feel like sneaking around. 

She’d had that look on her face. Conflicted about it, but didn’t want to make it a big deal, because his dad would’ve turned it into a whole thing. It ruined his buzz, and he apologized, but he continued to sneak smokes in his room for the rest of the year until he moved out. For a while he thought he��d gotten better at it, but maybe his mom just got too exhausted to say anything.

The bass melody flows through the kitchen door as someone steps out with a paper bag, cocking an eyebrow and handing it over. There’s barely time to even mumble a thank you before they’ve retreated back, and the music is swallowed again as the door swings closed. Daniel sits for a moment, letting it circle him, feeling the heat through the bag in his lap. He looks from one end of the diner to the other, counting the people inside, orienting himself with the exits, even though the sun is still up. 

There’s a payphone in the back, near the bathroom, and the urge to call almost overtakes him. Like he should just do it now, get it over with before he changes his mind again. Not sure what he even wants to say, except to apologize. He won’t be coming home again, they’re past that. But maybe…

Anxiety ripples through his insides, and he feels in his pocket to see if he has enough change. If he has to ask a cashier first he’ll lose his nerve. How much is the long distance charge, anyway? He might lose his nerve if he has to talk to the operator first. 

It feels like enough coins in his pocket. They click together, between his fingers, and his heart skips as he decides to do it. And the paper bag crinkles in his fist as he stands, and his mouth is dry and he’s not sure why he’s doing this but—

Someone slips past him, breezily, someone else with a call to make. His ears ring as he watches, as they lift the receiver to their ear, as they drop a coin inside. He sees the way their mouth quirks into a grin as they say hello. 

Not here. 

Don’t do this here.

He turns away. He bumps into someone on the way out. The sun hurts his eyes and he can’t catch his breath, and it takes a moment to remember which way the hotel is. 

A sob crawls through his ribs, and he stands there on the sidewalk, rubbing his chest until it goes away. He chews the inside of his cheek and his appetite is gone, and his stomach hurts but he can’t tell what’s hunger anymore. 

~~

The food is kinda soggy and cold by the time he decides eat. It feels fine, though, as he lays it out on the little table in the hotel. Not sure why he thinks he’s a person who’s ever going to enjoy food again, anyway, so he shouldn’t be picky. It’s just nourishment.

He’d dragged the phone over to the table, too. Just set it there, the cord swaying gently where it dangles back to the nightstand. He picks at his food in little bites, staring at the ugly view of the Ohio River outside. 

And he’d dug the number of the publisher out of his bag. The one he’d sent the manuscript to. It’s laid out flat on the table, and he thinks he’ll call them first. But this nagging voice keeps begging him to call his mother.

For what?

He remembers the day the military car drove up to Ray’s house. Daniel had known, immediately, when he saw the uniforms walking up to the door. And he’d just stared for a while, after they’d gone inside, and he’d felt so numb that he thought Well, this isn’t so bad, I guess.

He’d shut his blinds. Laid down on his bed. Listened to King Crimson a little bit too loud. The reality rolled over, and over, a tiny ball in his head, and he could picture himself cradling it in his hands, examining it, checking for sore spots. 

Never lost a best friend before. Not sure how it’s supposed to feel. But it wasn’t so bad. For that first little while it felt survivable. 

The phone rang downstairs, a couple hours later. He couldn’t make out any of the words from up in his room, just the near-hysterical pitch of his mom’s voice. He listened to her come upstairs, and go into the bathroom, heard the water running for a long time before the quiet knock on his bedroom door. And he saw the hurt in her face, the puffiness in her eyes that she’d tried to wash off. 

All the pain came later. And their moms hadn’t handled it well. Neither of them.

“Can you imagine…” his mom said, staring out the car window after the funeral. In the cemetery still, waiting for the cars ahead of them to pull out. Daniel looked up the hill, to the grave. So many fucking flowers.

Nothing in the casket, of course. They’d still buried one, and Daniel wasn’t sure who it was supposed to help.

“Not knowing where your baby is,” she said, and her voice cracked, and she hid her face behind a handkerchief. Her fingers wiggled as she tried to calm down, and then she turned to look at Daniel in the back seat, with her glassy red eyes. “I’m so sorry, Danny.”

It’s his old life, and he knows he can ever go back. And maybe his parents will bury an empty casket one day, filled with mementos that remind them of him. Would anyone else even throw in? Alice, he supposes, and her parents. Maybe Ray’s family. He doesn’t think he left any other close friends behind. Everything always felt so temporary. Really, looking back, he knows he never quite fit. 

Will people remember me?  Will people from my high school remember their classmate that disappeared when they were twenty and supposed to be enjoying college? Is it one of those spooky local tragedies?

If I tell my mom I’m okay, is that a lie?

He rubs his eyes. 

They’ll never get my body back. 

He pushes the food to the side, and his heart races, and he thinks he can do it. Reaching for the phone before he can lose his nerve. 

And he doesn’t want anything from them. He won’t ask for help, or put them in Armand’s path. And he doesn’t need to come home. And he doesn’t need their money. And it’s not exactly a goodbye, but…

A tiny part in him just wants to hear her voice, and he can’t admit until he starts dialing. He squeezes around the phone, only able to hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and leans his elbow on the table. Rocks in his seat and closes his eyes. The sound of the phone ringing, a moment later, makes him want to throw up.

Just once, just this last time. Hear her voice, let her know he’s okay, she might not hear from him for a while, no no it’s fine I just didn’t want you to worry, I’ll be fine—

And don’t follow me. Don’t look for me. I’ve become something else, and I don’t want to drag you down with me. He can’t tell her that, though. Just, no. Don’t worry. I’m okay. I’m okay.

Heart in his throat, and he draws his hand away from the phone, covers his eyes like it will make it easier, plunging himself into darkness. Breath shaky through his nose.

And then the click.

The half-second of background noise. The TV blaring the evening news. The gravely half-cough of a smoker clearing his throat.

“Hello?” his father asks.

Daniel’s teeth grind. The crackle of nervous energy snakes through his whole body—the pinch at his kidneys, and up through his jaw, and his fingers are numb. He even feels it in his nipples, at the roots of his hair. It tweaks through his shoulder socket.

“Hello?” his father asks again. Sharper now, because that’s how he is. Impatient. 

He remembers his dad being softer, back when he was a kid. Before Daniel had fucked up too bad. Because you grow up, and your dad is less colossal. One day you realize that he’s just some fucking guy, that he isn’t special. But…

There’s a rattling breath, like he’s going to say something, launch into a lecture or say something nasty, demand an answer, and tell you to stop fucking around, and call you a disappointment, and—

Daniel’s jaw aches all the way up to his temples. His face feels hot. Bile rising.

He hangs up the phone. 

[previous day] | [read on AO3]

[skjeinon]

thinking about you - anders lee

summary: when you go to highschool and then college together, being reminded you were never his first choice was something you faced a lot - something about him always brought you running back to him though. when it snows, you pour and he tries to fix that with his generosity as the boy who’s always treated you better than the rest…

warnings: not a very slow burn - but very much pent up unknown reciprocated feelings. anders lees big legs <3. slight breeding kink (wrap it before you tap it blah blah blah), best friends to lovers, lack of plot at the end (i can make a part two maybe), rather vanilla i suppose but very cute nonetheless. nickname andy is used once?? sorry NO PROOFREAD!!

laying down in bed, watching as the snow fell outside of your window, with your blankets to your shoulder, you felt the quick buzz of your phone against your backside. you never felt well when snow fell in minnesota, but your whole life it’s been something you’ve learned to deal with. you almost ignored the buzz until it began to repeat.. then came your ringtone. some old song you liked in middle school filled your ears before you rolled over to pick it up. before even looking at the name, you put the phone to your ear.

“hello?” your voice was tired as you spoke softly into the mic.

“hey y/n” as anders voice filled your ears , you blushed, embarrassed you hadn’t made an effort to talk differently.

“oh my goodness! hey andy.. what’s up?”

“mh.. nothing. i saw it was snowing in minnesota, i wanted to check up on you. i know it was pretty warm a few days ago and i know how you get.” he said, you could hear him laying back into his seat.. whether it be his couch or a chair somewhere.. you wondered where he was.

“yeah it’s .. it’s bad. i won’t even lie. i thought the snow was out of here considering it’s gotten warmer and it’s april. i need it to be normal again.” you complained, pushing your face into your pillow to let out a soft whine.

“mh.. are you working? outside of the snow i suppose.” his question felt random but you complied.

“no.. i had left over time from last year that i had to plan out at some point. i guess it was my luck to pick the week 4 months ago that it would be snowing.” you said, sitting up in your bed to talk better, pulling your knees to you chest. “why do you ask?”

“do you want to come to the island? it’s nicer here.. i can buy you a plane ticket and you can stay at my place.” his voice felt sensual when asking you the question. you tried not to let your cheeks burn.. or give any leeway to him on how you felt.

“oh.. that actually sounds really nice. are you sure?” success. you didn’t sound super shocked - at least you hoped you didn’t.

“yeah i’m sure. cmon y/n, you know you’re my girl..” he said, you could feel his cocky little smile on the other side of that phone call. the way he would smile when he’d tease you, or take good of your plate, or when he’d smile at you when he’d buy you tickets for a minnesota vs isles game.. the way he’d look at you when you’d wear his jerseys. highschool… norte dame… islanders.. it never changed.

“mmh.. okay.. when do you wanna get me a ticket ..” you said , your hand making its way to play with your own hair.

“i can get you one right now.” he said as he stood up, going to grab his laptop. “you prefer american airlines right?”

you smiled. “yeah i do.”

“when’s the earliest you can come..” he said as he sat back down, opening the device in his lap.

“tomorrow. i’ll be off work for this and next week. if you wanna have me for that long.”

“yeah why not, i haven’t seen you in a few months”

-

in the next 24 hours you had prayed that when you were at the airport by the will of god… your flight wouldnt be delayed or cancelled. thank god overnight, the snow had stopped and when you woke up, the roads were more clear then you’d expected.

the night before, you stayed on the phone with anders for hours while he bought your ticket and while you packed. you complained about dirty clothes and he responded “you can just wash your clothes here..” which embarrassed you as you put dirty clothes you knew you’d only bring because you would wear it for him.

you packed for every season, almost like trauma from the cold weather in the last 2 days even though anders reassured you it was getting warmer on the island, and as you went through TSA and was finally sat at your terminal, your foot tapped impatiently, maybe a little overwhelmingly excited for seeing anders. yeah you knew you’d see other people you knew and loved.. but you always were excited to see him.

you wouldn’t even lie, you’ve been in love with anders since you guys first became friends in highschool. the feelings came and went, but he’d always do something that made you come crawling back.even at points you were convinced he also liked you, but it just never resulted in anything like what you had ever dreamed of.

in highschool you weren’t necessarily the popular cheerleader but you weren’t an outcast by any means. you were a proud leader of the student section and that’s how you and anders had become friends. you always helped plan student pride at football games and even sometimes during spirit week. you had a football jersey for the highschool and you even sewed anders’ number onto it at one point after the two of you had met through football. - when you met, it was when you were standing on the edge of the field, he asked if you could try to catch a ball or two with him for some yearbook photos that yearbook had asked him to take, the both of you thinking it was stupid, you gave in. after this, you had both realized you were in lots of classes together, and started sitting together in those classes.. then at lunch.. then hanging out outside of school, talking on the sidelines at football games. the two of you were inseparable. his parents adored you, and always begged him to date you.. your parents did the same.

so even after all this time, you had never even been on a date with him, and now you’re sitting in the airport getting ready to board the plane to go see him after he payed for your ticket, while also offering you to stay in his own home for two weeks. you were whipped.

The plane ride wasn’t awful, a bit of turbulence though the clouds but once you neared new york and JFK, things cleared a lot. the sun was out and you smiled at the simple idea of a warm day. as the plane landed, you pulled your jacket back over your body and grabbed your bag as you got off the plane. JFK was big and honestly if it hadn’t been for Anders guiding you in the past, you’d be lost.

Getting down to the luggage pickup, you stood around, observing very hard but honestly ignoring the fact that Anders had to be around. if not here then he’d be here soon. but it didn’t cross your mind until you were picked up off your feet by a goon.

“COME HERE!” he exclaimed as he picked you up, his arms tight around your body as he lifted you up. you almost shouted before remembering it would only be him.

“Anders! put me down!!” you kicked, shaking in his arms until he sat you back down on the ground. you turned quickly to see him, a smile forming on your face at his goofy expression. you wrapped your arms around him, he did the same, pulling you close to him. Quickly inhaling, you catch the cologne laced into his clothes. he’s been wearing the same thing for years and it never gets old.

“i’m glad to see you made it here in one piece.. how was the flight?” he said as he glanced down at you watching as you pulled away to look for your luggage once again.

“it was good.. a bit of turbulence coming from minnesota but not too bad..” you stood ahead of him so when responding to him, you turned your body to see him. when speaking to him you’d observe his features.. looking at his freckles as some new one’s appeared on his cheeks every year, his dark blue eyes, his new haircut that maybe was his best one. you loved everything about him..

your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he said “is that your bag?” and pointing, you turned back around. “yes it is!” you said as you quickly went to grab it. as you pulled it off, he picked up your carry on and walked over to you, offering to take your suitcase also. you let him do so but in turn, you took your carry on from him and walked with him out to his car, which he pushed the bags into and then went to your side of the car, opening the door before finally going to his.

getting in the car, you noticed he did what he always did when driving and that was resting his right hand on the gear shift, even though he didn’t need to use it, and driving with his left. crossing your legs in the passenger seat, you leaned closer to his side of the car with your arm on the center console.. this didn’t go unnoticed by him as a small smile formed on his face.

“how’s work going?” he asked, looking over at you meeting your eyes before looking back at the road.

“it’s going. half the time im just tired and need a break. that’s why i’m glad you offered to let me come up.. i really just needed to be away from everything at home.” you sighed, your hand coming to your forehead to gently rub it. he took his free hand and moved it back, gently rubbing his finger against your arm.

“i definitely don’t understand but i wish i did.. sometimes i wish i could put myself in your shoes.” he said, you knew he cared - but sometimes he wasn’t great with his words when it came to comforting you over work. he never really understood what it was like to work a normal job, even through college. his parents paid for everything when he was busy studying and playing hockey in college. the two of you talked about stuff while driving, stuff you hadn’t talked ab the night before or just the music on the radio… small talk always turned into long deep conversations. you always loved that about him. ever since that first night the two of you went out to dinner together back in highschool.

getting to his place, you walked in, being greeted by his two dogs, smiling as they sniffed you, wagging their tails excitedly, they didn’t jump which shocked you. “i didn’t realized you trained them so well” you smiled as he walked past you with your bags in his hands.

“yeah it took a long time..” he shrugged as he walked into the spare bedroom he had assigned to you. “you’ve never been here before right?”

“i think maybe for a party when i was in new york but that’s about it..” most of your years apart, he’d been coming back to minnesota. he’d come and see you. even when you were in new york for a few playoff games, he saw you at your hotel and you guys were together everywhere except for his home.

“oh - i thought you’d been here more then that.” he felt a bit of guilt wash over him as he walked out of the room you were staying in. “uh- well cmon girl.” he said motioning for you to come into the room with him. you laughed before following after him.

“this is your room, you have a nice view. your sheets are clean and you have clean towels in your bathroom.” he pointed to the bathroom off the side of the bedroom. “but if you need anymore, they’re in the bathroom in my bedroom.” he smiled, before putting his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. he motioned to everything as he spoke it out ‘living room, balcony that’s really high up so he doesn’t sit out there much, the kitchen, the spare bathroom, his bedroom, his bathroom’ the sheets on his bed weren’t flattened or made, they were everywhere showing he didn’t make his bed which made you smile at the ounce of personality laced into his room.

“oh and.. there’s the washer and dryer for you..” he pointed to a little side area, where the two were tucked away off of the kitchen. you didn’t have much to say except for complimenting his home. for a small apartment.. it was large. the windows were high and so were the ceilings, lots of natural light accenting the colors of his apartment.

the tall man let you off to unpack while he took care of his dogs, taking them downstairs and outside while you put the clean clothes into the dresser he had told you to put them in and in the closet in the room. and taking all your dirty clothes and putting them in the washer. you embarrassingly made sure you knew what panties and bras were in the wash before you pushed your clothes in there, not having any interest in letting him even go near your clothes if you didn’t know what was in there.

you thought about what he was thinking about as you walked through his apartment, thinking that maybe he was thinking about you while he leaned down to pet his dog. maybe he was thinking about all your outfits you planned to wear or everything the two of you would do…

and honestly that is all that was on his mind. something that he kept secret was how much he adored you… yeah he’s been there for the last 10 years with you, but he probably loved you more then any girl he’s ever attempted to date.

everytime he’d find a girl, you’d stay out of his life as much as possible though every waking minute he thought “what will i do with y/n tonight?”, “i wonder what she’s doing”, “does she want to hangout this weekend?”. and even when he moved to the island, even when he signed for all those years with new york, he still dreamt of a reality he could have with you. but he knew you didn’t like him like that. sometimes he even wondered if you were using him but moments like today where you looked at him like you needed something more from him when he held you close in a hug, he knew that even if you didn’t love him the same way he did, that you were there for the long haul.

eventually, you were out of your airport clothes and into shorts and an islanders hoodie, trying to stay comfortable and feel clean. you sat yourself on the couch as anders walked in.

“i tried to give you as much time as possible..” he said while letting the dogs off their leash.

“you gave me plenty. thank you.” you smiled as you turned your body to view him from the couch. he walked closer to you and his hand rested on the back of the couch, leaning over you.

“i see you’ve gotten comfortable.” he smiled, bending down closer to you. “nice hoodie, you a big isles fan?” anders teased as he pulled at the soft material. he let go and stood up straight again, coming to sit down beside you.

“yeah, i have this boy i like a lot, he plays for the islanders.” you teased him back, batting your eyelashes at him.

“oh really?” he sat down, taking your legs and laying them across his lap. “tell me more about him.. he sounds fun.”

“he is. he’s tall and blonde.. he’s got nice teeth and a lot of freckles, he’s very very handsome..” you made a face, teasing him further. “so handsome” you threw your head back, swooning.

“wow! he sounds like a very lovely guy. i wish you luck” his cheeks burned a little, patting your shin with his wide palm. you noticed as the pink patched across his cheeks, making yours turn that soft shade as well. you looked away from him, sticking your hand out to gently pet one of his dogs that sat at his feet. “so um.. what do you wanna do tonight? or just.. in the next two weeks.” he cleared his throat, breaking the silence with his question.

“well.. i don’t know. you’re the one with the idea of what’s to do!” you said gently hitting his arm.

“hm.. well i have two games this week, and next week i have 2 next week.. one is an away game. so i’m sorry in advance..” he said, gently squeezing your bare leg.

“it’s okay, i kind of expected you to be gone longer then that” you cut him some slack as he thought further.

“i dunno, we should just play it by ear. but if you want something good for dinner tonight, we can go somewhere fancy or somewhere simple, what are you thinking?”

“hm.. something simple. i’ll save dressing up nice for another night.” you said leaning into the cushion, staring back to him.

a smile formed across his face, his dark blue eyes squinting as he smiled. “okay.. cool. did you happen to bring your jersey with you? if not we can always just go and buy you a new one..”

you almost blushed as you remembered how he was so willing to spoil you. so quick to give you anything you wanted. “yeah i brought it.. i wouldn’t mind a new one though.” you said pulling your legs out of his lap, bringing them to your chest.

“yeah doesn’t yours just have an A on it?”

“oh heavens no, it’s not that old. I do have an A one though.”

the conversation continued , talking about all the small things you could simply conceive into a conversation. it moved from the couch, to the kitchen, to his room and to the balcony, you both talked almost non stop until you realized the both of you were hungry. the two of you talked about where to eat dinner and as he let you go to get ready, he himself got in the shower. when you pulled on some nicer clothes, placing your perfume at your pulses, and grabbing some small things you needed, as you sat in the living room again , the smell of his body wash filled the apartment from the hot shower he took. you almost keeled over, thinking ab how nice he’s always smelled.

after he finished his shower and got dressed, he met you in the living room and grabbing his keys from the table sitting in front of you, he nodded to the door. “let’s go.” he said with a cute little smile, offering you a hand to stand you up. he pulled a jacket over his shoulders but knew he was only grabbing it to help you out when he knew you’d complain about being colder later in the night.

sometimes his personality makes it easy for you to forget he’s an athlete, ignoring that it’s professional. he does this for a living, but the way he treats you, you easily forget it. he walked with you, holding a soft conversation as the two of you rode the elevator, got in his truck and rode to dinner. dinner was in some small restaurant in one of those small towns on the island. dinner was good but the one thing you paid attention to the entire night was him. getting ice cream after and even buying a few groceries at the store with him before going home, it was all him. on the drive him, you leaned into the center console, your knees were at your chest and the moment the two of you had sang a song the two of you fondly shared memories of, your pinkies had become linked with the other. it took until the end of the drive where the two of you managed to let go, neither wanting to but both of you having to hold something going inside, there was no other choice.

you struggled to believe that you’d be able to spend these two weeks without folding and telling him but you didn’t know that he felt the entire same way.

-

as the night grew later, anders was laying on the couch doing his hockey homework, watching over old footage, almost his entire body sprawled across the couch. he had a notebook sat on his thigh, slowly scribbling stuff on it under the light of a lamp.

you had found a laundry basket and pushed your now dry clothes into it, slowly scooting it over to the living room to sit on the floor and fold your clothes. he noticed as you sat down and began to move his feet. “here, come sit-“ and he stopped once he saw you shake your head.

“no it’s okay.” you smiled to him. he nodded and gave a soft response before looking back at the footage. every now and again he’d glance down at you while it plays quietly. he watched as you bobbed your head to the music playing in your own head, listening to your quiet hums. he watched your quick movements with folding your clothes, wondering why you were moving so fast with some items of clothing. he began to observe what was in the basket instead of watching his footage like he should’ve been. you tried to ignore his eyes on you as you folded through the panties and bras you had washed that you didn’t want him to see, though with his hockey eye precision he did anyways. his face turned a soft pink as he finally realized what he was looking at - he was now back to watching hockey while you folded laundry. suddenly you were a little relieved to have the uncomfortable subject matter in your hands.

you now were the one observing him as he did his thing. you watched how he wrote messily against his thigh, trying to ignore how thick it was underneath the notepad. something about his legs was how large they were. perfect for sitting in a crowded space, inconvenient situation, for a booster in a mirror or maybe one day a sloppy hookup who knows. but as the thoughts raced through your head, creating scenarios past the ones you already experienced such as inconvenient situations.. your cheeks began to burn and suddenly your hands were conveniently back in the laundry before you finished.

“i have morning skate tomorrow.. if you wanna come” he said as he turned the tv off, breaking the room off into silence except for his voice. he began to sit up, stretching as he sat all the way up. he then leaned over, resting his elbows against his thighs to watch as you placed the folded laundry back into the basket. you stood up and stared down at him. “yeah.. sure i can go.” you said, shrugging, leaning over to pick up the basket.

“cool. you have to wake up early though.” he also stood, coming closer to you, leaning over you momentarily. “you should get some sleep then.” his hand gently rested on your arm, pushing you gently towards the bedroom you stayed in.

“so should you..” you rolled your eyes, a smile forming across his lips as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“i’m glad you’re staying with me for two weeks… get some rest.” he said as he stepped past you, making his way to his room. “goodnight.” he turned to see you and as you began walking to your own room, you turned to look at him as well. his hair was a mess over his head and it made you giggle.

“goodnight.” you nodded before gently shutting the door to your room. you could hear the dogs as they shuffled into his room to lay in the bed with him. you didn’t even want to imagine what he wore to bed but if it was anything like college, it was still nothing but boxers… he was so fit and it was almost insufferable.

-

sleeping that night was easy, you had put away all your laundry before you almost drowned yourself entirely in your sheets, cozy until the morning where he opened your door with a soft voice, coaxing you out of your sleep.

“goodmorning..” he said as he leaned into your doorway. you let out a groan, trying to ignore him before he did the same again. he did it once more before he was letting the dogs into the room, excited to see you as he walked in as well. he knew you were never the best at waking up early so he tried his best to get you out of bed without putting you in a bad mood.

“come on” he said, sitting down at your feet, gently shaking your legs. “get up, hon.” he stared up at the ceiling, listening to your voice as you complained more and more, finally pulling yourself out of the sheets. hunched over yourself you stared at him through tired eyes.

“goodmorning.” he smiled, staring down at you with his dark eyes. “do you still want to go?”

“mhm..” you nodded, letting your head fall into his arm. how hand came to the back of your head, stroking your hair before slowly getting up again.

“okay then, get up, we gotta go.”

standing in the shower, you slowly began to wake up more, still yawning every few minutes before you finished your shower, trying to move at a good pace knowing he needed to get going. you brushed your teeth and pulled some clothes on before walking out.

“here..” he said, putting a jacket over your shoulders before he grabbed his keys. you pulled his jacket around your body, smelling him within the threads. you walked behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“do you want dunkin?” he said to you as you both made your way to his truck, getting in, he heard you utter a soft yes. you stared down at your phone for a bit until he called your name.

“yeah?”

“you okay?” he said, his blonde hair was curly that morning, looking barely brushed out.

“yeah i am.. i’m just sleepy.”

“mh. yeah i know how you get. i’m sorry for getting you up so early” he gave you a gentle smile and you gave it back, making his smile even brighter. bundled up in his jacket, the two of you got your dunkin and were off to the arena. todays skate was in UBS. it wasn’t public but you sat with a few of the media detailing people, knowing one or two, being able to chat while the boys practiced. it was a longer practice, coach trying to condition them after a loss. you knew anders would be a little sore later that day, causing you to think of any remedies you may have while they finished up.

as anders finished, he was at the top of the stairs at the lower level of the arena seating.

“you wanna go?” he said, a soft smile on his face, nodding to the general direction of the exit. he felt like he never stood in this perspective of the arena, causing him to be overcome with slight shock as he watched you jog up the stairs. “you seem a bit more chipper now..” his gaze met yours as you walked with him to the truck.

“yeah i’m a bit better now” you smiled. the two of you held your hands in your pockets, but you felt your body brush against his every now and again while walking. you wished with everything inside of you that you could place your hand in his.

“do you want to get breakfast now? or do something else” he said, kicking a pebble under his foot before you made it to his truck. getting in you told him sure and that’s where you went. you went somewhere he wanted, you didn’t really care . the two of you ate breakfast in perfect bliss, sitting across from each other while quietly chatting over stacks of pancakes and bacon.

the two of you decided to end the morning back at his apartment so the two of you could just end up napping.

when getting into the apartment, the two of you had taken the dogs outside, you taking one while he took the other and as you both came inside, a yawn fell over the both of you. you changed into some more comfortable clothes and as you settled into the couch, turning on the TV to play some ambiguous movie, he ended up sitting down next to you. he offered you to sit against him so you did, tucking yourself underneath his arm, laying in his chest. the two of you slowly began to lay further on the couch, sooner or later, your body on top of his while he laid there with his arms around you.

the two of you were asleep, the sun slowly coming through the windows, leaving you both sleeping for hours before one of you finally woke up. it was him..

he woke up, seeing your head against his chest. his cheeks burned as he brought his hand to play with the ends of your hair as they fell across his chest. he lifted his leg so that his thigh was pressed to yours, warming your body as you rested. he winced a little, feeling his body becoming sore, especially as he felt your weight under him but he tried to ignore it, more focusing on matching his breathing pattern to your own.

starting up at the ceiling, he felt your breathing pattern change as you began to wake up. “hi” he said softly, pulling his hand from your hair, watching as you blinked slowly at him. “hiiii” you smiled, pushing your face into his chest again, not even thinking about how you laid on top of him.

“we don’t have to get up, but can you maybe move your legs a little so i can move my leg..” his voice was gentle, and you made a soft noise of approval.

“you can move me however you want..” you said against his chest, essentially going rag doll on him.

as a man does, the words sounded foul in his head, as his hands moved to your sides, gently grabbing you and pulling you up with his body. he tried to ignore how they made him feel as he pushed his thigh between your legs, sitting you up against his frame. he let your arms fall around his chest as you settled in his lap. he found the remote and changed it over to the footage he had to continue doing over from the night before, noticing how you seemed to have fallen back asleep, sitting in his lap. as he began to watch the plays again, he whispered comments to myself.

although he thought you were asleep, when laying there, in reality you were trying to process how when you spoke… he placed you with his thigh right between your legs. you tried to ignore it, you tried to ignore the feeling growing in your body, but as his hand met the small of your back.. you almost folded. you listened to his whispers, but noticing his breath getting heavier, it made it hard to focus on anything he was doing when lacking one of your key senses.

feeling risky, as anders pushed his hand down the small of your back, his fingers pushed under the elastic of the shorts you had on.. not with any devious intention, just to entertain himself as he rubbed his hand across your back. he would do it every few times his hand would come down to your waistband. he noticed over time your breathing pattern hadn’t shifted back to how it did when you slept and simply your breaths began to get heavier as you continued on. he shifted, his thigh pressing into your core…

“anders..” your voice came out soft and quick, causing your eyes to shoot open, covering your mouth with the speed of lightning. “oh my god- i’m sorry.” your face was red as you leaned against him, trying to act like it didn’t happen all the while his face was burned up too. “i-it’s okay..” he threw his head back, trying not to even think about it but as you readjusted he could feel the way your chest heaved slightly. you tried to ease yourself back to reality as his hand was pressed against your lower half again. his hand now slowly encompassing your ass as he rubbed it up and down your backside. you knew he was doing it on purpose..

you almost felt confident in yourself to simply push yourself down into his quad again and get away with it, but you were scared to even try. you slowly moved your hips against his thigh.. very slowly. only enough so maybe he’d notice if he paid attention. with his hand on your ass, he almost noticed immediately. he didn’t try to stop you, he even moved his hand with your hips. he let it go on for a minute or two before his voice broke the silence.

his name fell from your lips. “what are you doing..” he whispered. he knew what you were doing. he spoke in a voice that just oozed with arrogance. finally .. you turned your head to look at him. when your eyes met his, he could see the ways yours were almost melting out of your head. staring, you saw the cocky smile on his face. he didn’t just want to let you do what you were doing.. he needed it.

“i know what i’m doing, but you should show me what you really want..” you spoke, almost without thinking, hoping maybe he’d try to take control over the situation. but by simply speaking that way, it proved to him that this was something both of you wanted.

Anders nodded and his hands were around your waist again as he picked you up slightly, sitting you back down on his thigh at a better angle. “this okay?”

you nodded, your hands coming to his chest, your eyes meeting his. your hand slowly pushed up his chest, making its way to the back of his neck. you leaned in closer and as your lips ghosted over his, your name quietly fell from his mouth before he pressed his lips into yours. he held you close as you kissed him. you released from the kiss, your eyes opening to see his.

“little desperate aren’t we..” his frowny smile made a smile form across your lips. you nodded and kissed him and again..

“anders..” his name fell from your lips, his hands that held your hips encouraged you to move against his thick thigh. “oh my god..” you whimpered softly, the friction between your legs left your face flushed.

“what is it?” he said , watching as you pulled your head back, your eyes meeting his. “hm tell me..” he hummed.

“it feels so good..” you whined. simply having him hold you like this gave you the satisfaction of a love struck girl. “i’ve wanted this for so long” your head tilted back, following the movements of his hands as he guided you through the roll of your hips.

his cheeks burned at your words. hearing you say it gave him butterflies, he felt stupid feeling that way. “me too” he mumbled as he watched you pleasure yourself on his thigh. he leaned forward, placing his lips against your neck as you leaned back. your soft moans grew as he kissed down your soft skin, gently nipping at it, his tongue relieving the bitten skin.

your skin burned as he kissed at it, his hands slowly moved up your hips and slowly pushed underneath your shirt, feeling up your sides before getting to your chest. “can i take off your shirt?” he asked against your skin. you made a small sound of approval and as he pulled it over your head, he couldn’t ignore the deep blue lacy bra you had on.

“did you wear this for me?” he asked, his hands gently rubbing over the lace on the cups.

“m-maybe.. everything i packed was for you..” you confessed, feeling as his large hands covered your chest, squeezing your chest before his hand came behind you, gently unclipping your bra with one hand while the other moved to the small of your back, helping you hold your rhythm as you ground against his thigh. as he pulled the bra from your frame, he almost drooled at the sight of your bare frame.

“you wanna take those shorts off, baby?” he spoke, placing his face between your neck and your shoulder again, gently kissing at your exposed skin.

“n-not yet..” you whimpered, your hands coming to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he gave a soft noise of acknowledgment as he placed his hand on your lower spine, pushing it forward so that you would lean back, your chest pushed out to him.

he took your nipple between his teeth, gently sucking at your chest. your hand was in his hair, gently tugging at it as he played with your hardening nipples while you fucked yourself on his thigh. he sucked on each of them until he was bored, moving further down until he couldn’t kiss you without moving you from his leg. he could see the look on your face as you go you were close to your orgasm, causing his hard-on growing in his pants to twitch. your face was filled with pure ecstasy. he looked down to see the wet patch on your shorts, forming on his own.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he spoke softly , holding your head up so he could see you. you nodded.

“yes anders.. fuck..” you whined while you held onto him to hold yourself up. “fuck.. please oh my god..” you cried out loudly, feeling yourself coming closer and closer before finally, one last swipe of your clit over his thigh and you were done for. your body leaning into his as you rode out your orgasm, he held your shaking frame close.

“i got you baby…” he said as he move his leg with your body until you slowed down and stopped, your chest rising and falling, underneath his big arms wrapped around you. as you finally came down from your high, you pushed yourself up from his chest, placing a kiss to his jaw.

“you all good?” he asked, patting your back.

“yes.. i’m fine.” a laugh left your mouth , looking down at your legs and your shorts. you even noticed his hard on in his pants , making your face burn. “so uh.. you wanna keep going..” you looked up at him.

soon you were being picked up by him and taken to his bedroom, and as he threw you down on his bed, he was pulling his shirt off before helping you get the wet shorts you had on off as well, soon your panties also. he pushed his shorts down and as he pulled his boxers down, you were sitting there marveling at his body - he was carved by the gods themself. “what?” he said , noticing how you stared when he pushed his hands into his hair, pushing it back from his face before he was on top of you.

when he was on top, he placed his lips against yours. he smiled into the kiss, his hands feeling down your thighs and between your legs before his fingers gently pressed against your sensitive clit, causing you to shutter against him.

“anders..” you whimpered as he circled your sensitive clit. he breathed against your lips, trying to contain himself while his cock throbbed between his legs. he continued to push you to your edge before you were almost at your second orgasm then pulling his fingers away. your voice sounded desperate as you whined his name.

“you ready for me to fuck you?” he spoke as he pulled away, finding his body between your legs, pushing them around his hips.

you nodded, as he picked up his cock, pushing the tip through your wet folds. his cock was thick in his hand as he pressed his tip against your entrance. he took his free hand, pushing your leg up around his side. “okay baby..” he mumbled quietly before he pushed his cock into you, slowly pushing himself in further, leaning over you to stare at your face as you melted into ecstasy. he didn’t stop until his cock was fully buried inside of you, causing his head to fall forward, a grunt leaving him.

his hair was a mess as he held his hand to your hip, his fingers imprinting on your soft skin. “f-fuck anders..” your voice was weak as he composed himself, finally pulling out until he was nearly at the top again before slamming back into you. you cried out, your hands meeting the sheets, your fingers tightened within the soft fabric as he began to steadily thrust into you. your name fell from his lips as he threw his head back, fucking into you.

he soon leaned over you, placing his arms under your waist, holding your hips up higher to his as he fucked you, causing him to hit you at a different angle. your moans became louder as you melted under him. your back arched underneath him, you whines while he freed a hand to hold your face, causing you to look up at him.

“open..” he spoke softly, encouraging you to open your swollen lips so he could press his fingers into your mouth, his thick digits filling your mouth, your moans vibrating against his calloused skin.

as you sucked his fingers, he fucked his cock into you, picking up his pace while he watched his fingers go in and out of your mouth. “shit baby…” he groaned under his breath while he held your hips to him. you couldn’t express how close you were through speaking so you used your noises, moaning loudly around his fingers, your eyes hooded as you tried to keep yourself composed as you could feel your second orgasm rising through your skin.

“you bout to cum, baby?” he leaned closer to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth. you nodded. “no tell me more..” he spoke, his hand moving your hair from your face.

“yes.. fuck anders i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum on your fucking cock..” you strung your words together as he held your face.

“why don’t we cum together” he said, leaning back, knowing this meant you couldn’t just cum when you wanted to. he leaned back, placing both hands back on your hips, holding you up by your hip bones rather than under your back. he began to pull your hips to his, adding to the overwhelming pleasure growing. he thrusted into the spot which made you see stars, feeling himself edging closer every time he’d thrust into you. throwing his head back, he groaned.

“fuck baby i’m gonna cum oh my god..” his fingers began to bruise your skin as he gripped your hips.

“cum inside of me.. please anders-“ you whined. he knew you were safe - so he was almost begging in his head to be able to cum inside of you. you could feel yourself coming closer, almost being pushed over the edge until he finally said

“cum for me baby..” his words were gruff as he continued to rock his hips into you, watching as you finally let yourself go, your body arching towards him while you almost screamed his name, squeezing his cock with your walls, coaxing him to give you one final slam into your cunt before filling you up. you tried not to scream as he leaned over, holding you close as you rode through your orgasm. “fuck baby.. you’re so good.. god damn you’re so good..” he stilled his hips, fighting his own urges to continue fucking you through his own orgasm. he was deep in you, his cum could have dripped out with how much he dumped into you.

your chest was heaving as he slowly moved back, your eyes were very soft as you stared up at him.

“can i pull out or would you like me to stay here a little longer..” he asked, moving your hair from your face once more, leaning over to kiss you gently.

“y-you can pull out..” your voice was hoarse, leaving him to kiss your cheeks and forehead, your lips against them your chin before he sat up, slowly pulling out. he watched as his cum dripped from you, biting his lip before he got up, pulling on his boxers before getting a warm damp rag to clean you up from his bathroom. making his way back in, he watched as you slowly propped yourself up on your palms.

“you doin okay?” he spoke softly as he wiped between your legs, up your thighs and down between your folds. you nodded , a small sound of approval leaving your lips as you stared at him while he concentrated between your legs. he finally looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. you leaned forward, placing your lips against his. he moved a hand to hold your face as he kissed you.

“i want to tell you something - but i just don’t want you to freak out..” your voice was soft as you spoke against his lips.

“yeah , what is it?” he slowly pulled away, moving to go and grab you some of his own sweatpants - “one second.” he jogged to your room, finding where you had put your clothes and found panties for you before jogging back. he walked over to you and helped put them on your frame.

“i uh.. i don’t know.. i just think i have to confess to you how much i’ve wanted to do that for so long..” you spoke as he pushed the pants up your legs.

“yeah?” his response wasn’t dismissive, he was thinking of a response. “well i’ve always.. felt the same. i just couldn’t ever tell you..” he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

“ive wanted you for a long time” he shrugged. “ever since that first night we went out to dinner after a game. you’ve been the one i’ve wanted..” he said, placing his lips against yours.

“then why did you wait so long?” you asked as he pulled away, to grab a t-shirt for you. he came back to the bed and motioned for you to lift your arms up.

as he pulled the shirt over your head he spoke “well i could ask you the same thing.” he shrugged and finally sat back down on the bed with you, rolling back to lay with you in the pillows. “i guess maybe i just expected it to happen.. i’m not sure.”

you smiled, looking up at him with your frame against him. his chest was bare, and as you leaned against him you could feel as his heart beat.

“i’m not sure how this will work out, y/n.. but i love you. you know i love you but i mean it.. i love you so much that words fail to describe how much i’ve always wanted you.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours, almost embarrassed at having to dump out all of his feelings.

“i love you too anders.. so much.” you reached your hand up, forcing him to look down at you, a smile on your face as you did so. “you should treat me to dinner some time this week..” a giggle slipped from your lips as he rolled his eyes.

“yeah- if i can get you out of the house without wanting to fuck you again..” he chirped, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “you should take a nap again baby” he said, his hands rubbing down your back once more.

“you too..” you said, placing your face against his chest as you let sleep take over you again.

it was almost like everything that just happened was fake - how on earth did you just fuck your best friend and in all of it, confess your feelings to him in the process. you never thought he’d feel the same way but suddenly, when the two of you were left alone in a place no one could even think to interrupt, all the walls came crashing down.

you loved that boy; you’ve loved him ever since that night he showed an ounce of compassion that no star QB, no NHL bound forward, no highschool league baseball player could have ever shown any girl like he showed you.

the way his hands fit into yours and the way his lips felt when he kissed your head or the way his arm fell into the groove of your waist was never unnoticed in any situation where you were closer than just friends.

anders lee was your best friend and your love.. no one could ever take that from you, not now.

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 11: Disney Hime: Taking advantage of Sho’s teenage crush on Shojumaru, Katsu enables a stalking expedition to the docks.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

“Kaya, I can cook. In fact, I always prepare breakfast for my brother and sisters, so I don’t mind helping out here too.” Sho made good her announcement by literally yanking the teakettle out of my hands.

“I don’t mind cooking.” I’d gotten used to making my own meals while living with Mitsuhide – granted it had started as self defense, but at least I got to control what went into the pot. “You’re a personal maid, not a kitchen maid. Which, by the way, I have been, so I know what kind of work goes into that.”

“And, as your personal maid, I’ve spent the last week trying to soften the callouses on your hands, so if you ruin them again, you’ll only be making more work for me.” With as much as skill over the fire as she had with my hair, she expertly finished my breakfast stirfry and slid it into a bowl. “There you go. Please eat it.” She added something under her breath about people needing to appreciate her skills.

Since I sensed a teenage sulk approaching, I knelt at the table. “Only if you eat too.” It felt weird eating while she watched me.

“I ate already.” She put the wok in a deep bucket of water. Then she set another pot of water on the coals to heat up.

“I’m hungry.” A third voice piped up, as all of a sudden the boy I had meet a couple weeks ago – Hiko - appeared at the top of the staircase. He trotted into the eating area. “Feed me, Sho.”

They know each other?

Ok, yeah, I got the connection … Hiko worked for Shojumaru, who had been the one to recommend Sho to us.

“Hiko! You can’t just walk into people’s houses like this. Someone might get upset.” She clasped her hands in front of her, and bowed – then bowed again. “Miss Kaya, please excuse my brother. He has forgotten his manners.”

“The man downstairs said I could come up.” Hiko tossed a small coin purse at Sho. “You forgot your money and I’m going to the docks with Shojumaru, so you were on my way.” He plopped down at the table and eyed my plate. Sho sighed, but she found a jar of umboshi and poured some into a dish. Hiko reached for it, but Sho cuffed him on the back of the head and nodded her head toward me. Belated remembering his manners, Hiko jumped back up and bowed. “I’m Hiko.”

I caught myself from reminding him that we had met already, since it was Katsu whom he had met. “Happy to meet you Master Hiko. I’m Kaya.”

The hot water steamed and hissed, spitting a bit at the fire, and Sho dumped some of it in the bucket with the dirty dishes. “Thank you for bringing my coin purse. I planned to stop at the market later, so you saved me some embarrassment.”

Hiko shrugged. “Well, you could always steal what you want.”

Sho gasped and slapped her hand over his mouth. “Miss Kaya, he is telling a joke. We are not a family of theives.”

Hoping to keep the information flowing, I just shrugged. “Wouldn’t bother me if you were. People have to eat. Although I would rather you not steal from me – if you need something, just ask.”

“There.” Hiko mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I wish the Kaigoshu would see it that way.”

“I haven’t been in Sakai very long. Are the Kaigoshu really tough on thieves?” I knew they had set the prices and trade agreements, but aside from that, how much daily governance were they responsible for?

Hiko winked. “If you’re caught.”

“Which,” Sho said as she set a cup of tea in front of him, “you were.”

“But that worked out.” Hiko turned back to me. “Before I knew him, I tried to steal Shojumaru’s money. He grabbed my arm so fast I thought he was going to tear it right off. Figured that would be the end of me-”

“I was prepared to plead for his life for a week if it was necessary,” Sho added.

“Was it?” I could imagine the beautiful young Sho might be a convincing advocate, though that could be as dangerous to her as it was for Hiko to steal to begin with.

“I didn’t need to. Shojumaru offered Hiko work.” She sighed happily as a dreamy look came across her face – the kind of look that wouldn’t be out of place on a girl her age at a K-pop concert. “And when he found out about the rest of us, he sent us some sweets!”

Huh. That didn’t jive with Shojumaru importing illegal weapons (potentially) but maybe this was a diversion. Or maybe he was truly innocent.

Or maybe, like Mitsuhide, like me – these things were all true and not a contradiction at all. I was both a courier and a (faux) courtesan. I could be both snarky and nice, depending on the company and whether or not they deserved my niceness. Mitsuhide did not deserve it, but it might be… ok, it would be sensible to learn more about him and what makes him tick.

Locks… locks make him tick.

Aaaaaand, more importantly, I should listen to the conversations going on in front of me rather than daydreaming, or risk missing important information.

“I wish I could go with you today. Shojumaru always seems so exciting when he’s striding around on the docks. Commanding. Powerful.” Sho had that ‘teenage dream’ look on her face again.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Speaking of facets, Hiko’s mood turned sour and he suddenly seemed much older than ten. “Shojumaru is the same wherever he is.”

“Yes, but in sunlight. It’s like he’s being kissed by the Gods.” She sighed.

“Stop it, Sho.” With a scowl, Hiko pushed away his food. “You shouldn’t go there alone.”

“We could… all go. Not to get in your way.” I hurried to assure Hiko that I meant no harm. “But Sho said she wanted to go shopping, so we can walk you there, watch the ships for a moment, then continue on to the market.”

Sho brightened for a moment, then shook her head. “Master Kyubei might not like it. He said you needed to be exquisite tonight.”

Well, she didn’t have to sound like it would take her hours to turn me into an exquisite creature. “As it happens, I broke one of my hairsticks last night and I need to buy new ones. Kyubei knows. He was there when it happened.”

“How did you manage to-” She looked at her younger brother and backtracked.

What exactly did she think we were doing with the hairstick?

“They can be fragile.” Especially if you jam them into a lock. I felt warm all over thinking about last night’s lesson.

Sho giggled. “Alright. Master Kyubei said he would give me money for any accessories you might need.” She hefted the purse Hiko had brought her. “So if we make it fast, we can do this.”

Really? He offers Sho an expense account, but not me?

The fourth thing I hate about Mitsuhide. He doesn’t trust me.

Unfortunately, asking for forgiveness and not permission only works if you are caught returning from an excursion, and not leaving on one. Granted, Mitshide had no need to work very hard to catch us when we trooped down the stairs en masse – especially as Hiko seemed to have only two speeds when in motion. Fast and faster.

Before we could exit the premises, Mitsuhide called to us. “And where might we be going?” He oozed over to our group and made minute adjustments to my clothing, as if his only care was how my looks would reflect upon him.

Wanting to get ahead of the news cycle (so to speak), I jumped in before the kids could. “Sho needs to find something to help with my hair since I broke a hairstick last night.” Just for him, I added a ‘don’t stop me’ smile. “Hiko, her brother, is escorting us, before going on to the dock to meet his employer, Shojumaru.” Hopefully he would (a) understand that I wanted to question the two of them, and (b) not offer to join us. I knew both of the kids would be more open to subtle questioning if it were just me.

“I don’t like the idea of someone as delicate and lovely as you wandering around in full view of foreigners and rough sailors.” He made an adjustment to my shawl, arranging it so I was more covered. Apparently ‘Kyubei’ is a yandere.

“We won’t be going that close,” I said, noting Sho’s look of disappointment at those words.

After pretending to think it over (or, well, he probably was internally thinking it over as himself too) Mitsuhide he reached into his kimono and pulled out his coin bag. “Buy something pretty for yourself.”

Ok. Possessive and indulgent is how we’re playing this today. Knowing a cue when I heard one, I bowed to him. “Thank you, Master Kyubei.”

He leaned in and placed a very theatrical kiss on my forehead. Then he ruined it by adding, “Be sure to take Sho’s advice. She understands what will suit you.”

What really sucked was that… he was probably correct. Sho has exquisite taste, if what she was currenting wearing – a simple kimono the color of the sunset over the ocean – was anything to judge by. I refused to dignify that with a ‘yes sir’ so I nodded slightly to let him know I heard him, then hurried to follow the other two into the bright morning sunshine.

While Hiko ran ahead of us - he would pause every so often to allow us to catch up, then immediately run ahead again, I strolled with Sho at a more leisurely pace, pretending to take in the area. “Have you lived in Sakai all your life?”

“No. We lived in the mountains in the Hida area – our father was killed in a mining accident and my mother thought to move us to live with her brother, who is a fisherman here in Sakai.” Sho kicked a stone out of her path with unnecessary force.

“Thought to? I take it he was less than pleased with a sudden influx of family?” What was it that Sho had said earlier? She had four other sisters?

“He said he had no room for all of us. Hiko, he was willing to keep because he could help him on the boats, but-” She bit her lip and seemed so upset that I chose not to ask further. I patted her shoulder instead. With a sad smile she continued. “He had a friend – an old man -  who was willing to pay for me. Hiko put a stop to that… and well, that was the end of any of us living there. If it wasn’t for Master Shojumaru, I don’t know where we would be living. Oh. And of course, my working for Master Kyubei and you now.”

The way she’d tacked that on as an afterthought made me again suspect she was spying on us for Shojumaru. Give that she also seemed to have a crush on the man, she probably hadn’t needed much convincing to-

Hang on.

Since we’d left Mitsuhide’s townhouse, someone had been walking a few paces behind us. I hadn’t thought much of it at first. Sakai is fairly big, and the middle of town basically leads everywhere. But as Hiko led us down to the waterfront, I noticed that our follower had not turned down another street, or gone into a shop.

So. We were being followed. The question was, who? And why?

No time like the present to find out.

I accidentally on purpose dropped the coin bag that Mitsuhide had given me. When I knelt to pick it up, I grabbed a fast look behind me, long enough to identify our stalker.

Tall… elegant… carrying a colorful rice paper umbrella in one hand, and a fan in the other.

Yoshimoto.

Specifically, Yoshimoto being not at all inconspicuous between that umbrella and a bright kimono. He was… so not good at this. No wonder I had spotted him.

Well, if he wanted to follow us, it had probably been at Sasuke’s request, and if he had a message to pass along, there would be plenty of opportunity to ‘encounter me’ at when we went to the open air market.

He continued to keep pace with us down to the harbor, where he stood with his fan open and the umbrella half-hiding his face. Hiko, meanwhile, said goodbye to us, then scrambled down to a dock where Shojumaru was already waiting for him. Next to me, Sho sighed the sigh of a Disney Princess about to go off into a musical monologue, and I half-expected the sea birds to provide a chorus behind her. “He’s so beautiful. Don’t you think so, Miss Kaya?”

It was true that Shojumaru appeared to be in his element as he strolled along the dock, the breeze ruffling his white hair. He looked more comfortable out here anyway. “He seems to fit the setting. Um, I mean, he looks like he’s enjoying himself, which is more attractive than bored.”

Though Hiko had clearly dismissed us for the day, Sho propelled us closer to the dock. I wouldn’t exactly say that she dragged me down there, for I was willing to learn more about the man, but if I had planted my feet on the ground and refused to move, I bet she would have had the strength to yank me further.

Such is the power of young love.

Since he either hadn’t noticed her (or was pretending not to), Sho called to him. “Master Shojumaru!”

Ow. Ok. Does anyone know where I can find an eardrum repair service?

He didn’t respond to her shriek. He had to be deaf, for she had hit a decibel level and pitch that prior to that moment had only been reached by sea birds fighting over scraps of food.

“Master Shojumaru!” That one was even louder. He couldn’t possible ignore that without appearing rude.

He chose option B (appear rude) and strode further along the dock without a backward glance. Beside me, Sho slumped in disappointment. I would have tried to cheer her up, but something curious was happening. A rowboat approached the dock, carrying sailors from a ship anchored off shore. Not a merchant vessel, but an atakebune – a warship. The sailors seemed to know Shojumaru, for they were waving at him. Odd, but not completely out of the question for a merchant to be on good relations with a naval vessel. He could have hired them to protect his trading ships.

Unfortunately the ship wasn’t flying any banners so I had no idea if there was a clan association, or if they were mercenaries.

An old man climbed out of the rowboat, and bowed to Shojumaru deferentially. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t get to come down here very often, and when I do, Shojumaru hardly talks to me.” She pouted for a moment, and then upgraded her teenage moodiness programing by applying the random act of tears patch.

Wow. Ok. She’s a beautiful crier.

However, this was not the place for hysterics, so I wrapped my arm in hers and led her away from the docks, out of the path of any witnesses (aside from Yoshimoto, who had, of course, glided after us in his swanlike Yoshimoto way).

“What’s wrong?” The tears seemed excessive. Although what did I know? I’d never had a severe crush when I was her age (Ironman doesn’t count).

I glanced over my shoulder, at where Yoshimoto was still lurking. He gave a little nod toward Sho, as if to ask if I needed help. I shook my head. Whatever this was, seemed like it could probably be handled by girl talk.

She beautifully dabbed at her eyes with a creamy hand towel. “It’s my own fault that he hardly talks to me.” Sniffle. Single tear. “I was so grateful that he rescued us that I greeted him in his bed.”

Oh hell. If Shojumaru had taken advantage of this kid, then disguise or no disguise, I was going to hunt him down and dismember him. I rubbed her back. “What did he do?”

“When I tried to embrace him, he looked horrified and he pushed me away!” Sho seemed to be at least trying to keep her voice down, but I suspected that Yoshimoto was still close enough to overhear.

Ok. The rejection was a little over the top, but at least he hadn’t taken this very young girl up on the offer. “Did he say anything?” I still wasn’t sure what to make of Shojumaru, but at least I could cross “takes advantage of underage girls” off the list of potential crimes. And, yes, I knew that in this time period, Sho wasn’t underage – there were no laws governing this, and at sixteen many girls of the warrior class would already be married. But even though I lived in the Sengoku, my brain grew up in modern Japan, and to me, Sho just seemed too young.

“Only that he had no need of a concubine, and if he wanted pleasure for a night, he knew where he could find a woman of experience.” She abandoned delicacy and blew her nose in the hand towel. “He didn’t have to be so mean about it!”

“No. He could have chosen his words more carefully.” I tried to figure out more careful words myself. “Maybe he meant that he didn’t want the good deed he had done for your family to become a transaction?”

That was the moment when Yoshimoto decided to enter our conversation. “I agree with the lady.” Yoshimoto bowed to me. “A good deed needs no reward and you giving your innocence to him would have negated the act.”

Sho clapped her hands to her face, in obvious horror at being overheard, but Yoshimoto continued to smile at her. His own attractiveness seemed to guide her past her initial embarrassment. “My apologies Princess. I could not help drawing closer to your beauty, and once I was near, like a moth to flame, I could not stay away, even as I rudely listened to your conversation.”

Geez Yoshimoto. There’s a concept called punctuation. Look into it.

“I’m not a Princess,” was all that Sho managed to say, even as in the back of my mind, my brain added ‘hime’ to her name, and it seemed so appropriate, that I couldn’t shake it.

Yoshimoto swept a grand European style bow over her hand. “Every girl is a Princess to someone. Imagawa Yoshimoto.”

Seeing that she had lost her power of speech, I supplied her name to him, then added, “I’m Kaya,” since I wasn’t certain if Sasuke had given Yoshimoto my current alias.

“Two beautiful flowers of Sakai. Would you brighten my day and allow me to escort you to wherever you plan to go?” When I informed him that we were headed to the temporary stalls set up by the traveling merchants he pronounced himself thrilled as that had been his destination as well. From what I know of Yoshimoto it probably had been.

We made our way toward the outskirts of Sakai, where the merchants were set up along the interior of the city wall. Along the way Yoshimoto kept up a steady stream of light flirtation designed to balm a hurt teenage ego. It wasn't until we reached a stall selling feminine accessories that Sho gave in to exploring the wares, and Yoshimoto and I had a moment to chat.

“That was kind of you.” I watched as Yoshimoto held a silk handkerchief up to the light. “And possibly kind of Shojumaru as well.”

“I've little experience with him, though I once saw him conversing with an agent of Yoshiaki, which does not speak well of him.” He folded up the handkerchief as neatly, more neatly in fact, than it had been and picked up another.

“The deposed Shogun?” OK that was interesting. “Are they allies?”

“Yoshiaki doesn't have allies. Only pawns.” He shook his head. “I have little time, and I doubt Yoshiaki is your objective. Sasuke said that your father is missing. Yoshiaki is more concerned with returning to power, and I cannot see a connection between him and one missing man.”

Would he go so far as to kidnap Mai and Hideyoshi, though? It seemed that Sasuke had not told him about that part of it. “I’m not ruling out anything yet, although who knows where our search will lead. Do you have a message from Sasuke?”

“After you left, Kaya,” he gave me a significant look, indicating that he had finally realized (or been told) that ‘Katsu’ was as much of a disguise as ‘Kaya’ was, “Sasuke did some research and he thinks he’s pinpointed dates and locations where there will be events that should allow you to return to your home… village.”

Ah. So Yoshimoto also knew about the time travel. He handed me a paper, which appeared to list dates, and either ‘Honno-ji’ or ‘Togakushi.’ Wow. Apparently, a moderately awesome ninja got no sleep that night. I would probably need to memorize this as I doubted I could figure out a hiding place that Mitsuhide wouldn’t find. Unless I kept it tucked in my kimono – he wouldn’t dare scout around in that, although the idea of him trying made me feel— nope!  “Thank you.” I put the letter in my obi for the time being.

“And though Sasuke didn’t think to ask, I will. Are you safe in your situation? The man you were with the other day seemed rather cruel.” He reached toward me, then stopped, his hand frozen in the air, before redirecting, and plucking a chrysanthemum from a flower vendor. “Though some call me a paper prince, I have enough resources to protect you, if that is your wish.”

“I’m fine. The man’s attitude is as much of a necessary disguise as these clothes.” I was less clear on why Mitsuhide had chosen that particular persona. “In private, our relationship is far more businesslike. Um, I mean, we’re stuck working together, but at home he mostly ignores me.” Which was a slight exaggeration, as I had been the one to initiate the ignoring, but I didn’t need Yoshimoto hanging around the machiya and cluttering up our investigation. (Although he would be beautiful clutter.)

Was I making light of the situation? Mitsuhide had purchased me. Technically, legally, I was his to do with as he pleased. But I didn’t feel like I was a prisoner. Not exactly. If I truly felt the need to escape, I would have found a way. Heck, if I had been desperate, I would have returned to modern Japan with Sasuke.

“Though that is a relief to hear, I cannot trouble believe that anyone would wish to ignore you. You are far too lovely to languish unseen.” Yoshimoto’s co-spy persona was dropped in favor of the flirtatious prince I had met the other day.

I glanced over at Sho to make sure she still wasn’t listening. “No languishing happening here. I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me either. But we are each other’s best chance at achieving our goals.”

“Ah.” Yoshimoto was silent a long moment, during which he shred the few petals from his stolen flower. “I suppose I have been in similar situations. Necessity makes for uncomfortable alliances. My cousin, in face, is allied with a man he has gone to war with on eleven prior occasions.” He tossed the flower merchant a coin, then tucked the remains of the chrysanthemum in his sash. “They claim it is temporary.”

“As is my situation. A temporary alliance.” Once I have found Aki, and Mitsuhide has located his friends, we’ll happily go our separate ways. And if I am lucky, I will never encounter him again.

Yoshimoto looked at my face for a while before nodding. “If you are certain.” He looked past me as his expression flipped from sincere to acquisitiveness. “That bowl is exquisite. I must have it.”

Conversation over, Yoshimoto flitted over to a craftsman’s stall.

“You look lovely Miss Kaya.” Sho stepped back, comb still in her hand, with the attitude of an Olympic athlete who has just finished a marathon. Apparently getting me to the point of “lovely” took serious effort.

“Thank you, Sho.” I reached up to pat my hair, which apparently was in a complicated bundle of knots, and she diverted my hand just in time. “Uh. I will take your word for it.”

I didn’t own a mirror, as space was more important than vanity when you spend much of your time crossing the country on horseback. I could at least tell that the kimono, one of the first ones I had ever owned that was made specifically for me, a lovely pale blue with tiny pink (sigh) flowers and butterflies dyed on it, seemed to fit me in all the correct places.

“She is acceptable.” In his Kyubei wig and attitude, Mitsuhide stood at the doorway. He also was dressed in an expensive looking formal kimono, with gold and silver embroidery making it look like he was wearing precious metal – probably exactly the effect he was going for. “That is all we will need from you today, Sho. It will be late when we return.”

Sho bowed to both of us, then in moments I could hear her feet lightly pattering down the stairs as she made her escape in order to enjoy a the extra time off.

Mitsuhide waited until we heard the door rattle as she left the building. “That is a very talented maid.”

“She seems to enjoy the work.” I picked up the shawl she had set out and hung it over my shoulders. Mitsuhide immediately adjusted the way it draped. Of course. “By the way, apparently Shojumaru saved her whole family from starvation and homelessness, so if it turns out he is our villain, her loyalty and affection is to him. Oh and also-”

Mitsuhide held up his hand. “One thing at a time, brat. You may tell me in the palanquin on the way to the shrine.”

Palanquin?

A box?

We’re travelling in a box?

Oh no no no no.

“Can we not walk? Or ride?” I ignored the hand he extended to me.

“Kyubei would not.” He gave me one those looks he generally reserved for when he was ‘in charge’ and expecting his orders to be followed.

“Kyubei can have the tiny box. How about this? He can force Kaya to walk beside it… and really, those things are only made for one person. It’s not fair to the men carrying it to have two people and – hey!” Mitsuhide had gotten tired of my protests and had simply hauled me to my feet.

“Your weight is negligible.” He propelled me out of the room, just as easily as Sho had dragged me to the docks earlier.

So random behind the scenes footnote for this chapter. When I originally wrote this fic, I had only read Motonari's dramatic ending. My decision to have Hiko work for him was basically a head canon that if Motonari caught some kid trying to steal, he would relate to him and try to somehow help him out. Fast forward a few months later when I read the romantic epilogue and discovered that in that route, he had helped out a street kid he'd encountered at some point, and that the two had developed a kind of a friendship. Happy day... headcanon becomes canon.

@bestbryn

@selenacosmic

@mllorei

@tele86

@lyds323

@akitsuneswife

[midnightshard06]

Flufftober Day 24

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50489362/chapters/129097132

Summary: Sonic comes to visit Tails on a particularly hot day. The two have a nice chat.

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~1000 words

AN: Based in the same au as these doodles from this post- https://www.tumblr.com/midnightshard06/730864248738217984/so-my-brain-decided-to-oh-so-helpfully-have-me?source=share

I am getting so close to just officially making this au a thing I swear

@flufftober

"Why must it be so hot?" Sonic sighed as he put his head down on the table. It was summer at the moment, and honestly it was probably his least favorite season. Even when not in werehog form he’d always had thicker fur than the average hedgehog. It did a great job at keeping him warm in the colder months, and a great job at overheating him in the warmer ones.

Tails walked over and pat his back before putting a glass of water in front of him. He happily took it and drained the glass. "Well, you've always done better in the cold. Thicker fur and all."

"Like you?" Sonic grinned.

"Let's just say you're not the only one who doesn't like this heat." Tails sat down across from him after grabbing Sonic another glass.

"So besides suffering in the heat how have you been buddy?" Sonic took a sip of the second glass of water. 

"I've been pretty good. Thanks to you mostly." Tails took a sip of his own water with a smile.

"Hey I wasn't about to stand by when the fox that saved my life was getting picked on." Sonic reached over the table to ruffle the top of Tails' head. “Plus that happened like forever ago dude.”

Tails playfully batted his hand away. "Still." He fixed his misplaced fur. "I would have been a lot worse off if you hadn't stepped in and gotten people to see the worth in my inventions… and me."

"Well it helped that I had the chance to save your town from those bandits. Gave me a lot of sway with the people." Sonic took another sip. "I would have tried anyway though."

"And that's why you're my best friend." Tails' smile widened.

Sonic sighed as he put his head against the slightly cooler table again. "You're my best friend too bud."

"Maybe I should try and make something to help with the heat." Tails hummed. "How long are you going to be in town for?"

Sonic hummed. "Not sure. A couple weeks maybe? Depends on how careful I am."

"You don't know how to avoid everyone here at night by now? You've been visiting me for over a year." Tails chuckled.

“Look, you have some pretty persistent hunters in this town.” Sonic moved his head so he could look at Tails. “Even though I’m not here all the time, some of those guys are crazy about trying to find me and ‘finish the job’.” He gave an exaggerated shiver. “Have you ever talked to one of those guys?”

“Who? That guy who calls himself Infinite and those other jackals? Can’t say I really care to have any sort of conversation with them.” Tails shrugged. “Have you?”

“Unfortunately. Good to know your enemy and all that. They’re very… passionate about tracking me down. Even tried to convince me to join them on a hunt once since I was acting like I didn’t believe them.” Sonic reluctantly peeled his face off the table. Honestly it was already too warm.

“Imagine the shock on their faces if they realized it was you.” Tails chuckled. “How’d you get out of it anyway? I suspect the only reason they haven’t tried to get me to go on one with them is because I actively avoid them.”

“Well you know me, I’m good at slipping away.” Sonic cleared his throat as Tails gestured for him to elaborate. “I may have gotten their leader to go off on some passionate rant so I could run off.” He shrugged. “It worked at least but now I have to make sure they don’t spot me at night or during the day.”

“I know you’ll manage.” Tails glanced out the window. “Looks like the sun is going to be setting soon. What’s the plan for tonight?”

Sonic frowned and pinned his ears down. “Can’t say I really like the idea of going out for a run in this heat.” He sighed through his nose. “How bout I stick around tonight and help you out. I know you’re not going to bed any time soon. Even if you should.” Sonic gave him a knowing smile.

Tails rubbed the back of his head and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Suuuuure you don’t.” Sonic sped over to him and once again ruffled the fur on his head. “Hope your workshop is still werehog proof.” He smirked.

“I always make sure it is. Never know when you’ll be dropping by.” Tails chuckled. “Maybe I could experiment with helping you get rid of that extra energy again. I really think we were getting somewhere last time you were here.”

“So long as those experiments don’t literally blow up in my face as they tend to do I’m all for it.” Sonic paused outside the door to Tails’s workshop. “I’ll pop in once I’ve transformed. You go ahead and get whatever you need ready.”

“Got it!” Tails hesitated at the door before wrapping Sonic in a hug. “It really is good to see you.”

Despite the uncomfortable amount of warmth an extra body gave Sonic wrapped his arms around Tails. It was also in that moment that he felt the jolt through his body that signaled the start of his transformation. Well it looked like Tails was getting an extra warm hug then. It didn’t take long for Sonic to change and for Tails to feel smaller than before. The fox playfully struggled in his grip for a moment before Sonic let him go. “Heh, I’ll try and come around more often to see ya bud. Now let’s get to work.” Tails beamed at him and nodded. They were in for a long night, one filled with the same oppressive heat of the day, but Sonic wouldn’t wanna spend it with anyone else.

[absurdthirst]

I want to know if I am overreacting. Can I please have some advice?

I am a 23 year old female. I live at home with my parents and I don’t work nor go to school since my anxiety and depression make it hard for me. Instead I keep up the house. I cook and clean everything about 95% of the time, I help homeschool and babysit my nephew at least 5 days out of the week, and I am at anyone’s beck and call if they need me. Especially my grandparents.

My sister & BIL have just had a baby and being in their home has been hard, especially since my sister has developed PPD, so they have decided to sell it. Their initial plan was to get an apartment near our house and then buy another house a little later. They even asked my dad for money to help fix up their house before selling it. We were all for that plan since we hated that house since they first got it. So to us it was a relief.

But then a week later their plans changed. Instead they want to buy an RV and park it in our backyard so they can live back there. My dad said it was fine and they immediately started making plans for that. And I immediately went insane. Just the thought of the living dynamics fucked me up. I was just completely against it. I tried to get my dad to take it back but they have basically steamrolled their plan and want to be out of their house and moved into my grandmas house in two weeks before eventually getting the RV.

I love my sister and my nephew and my new baby niece but I despise my BIL. He’s immature and just plain obnoxious. I can’t imagine having to see them everyday. Especially because they are so irritating.

And the thing about my sister and BIL is that ever since they’ve gotten together they continually have pushed responsibilities that should be theirs onto me. Specifically when it comes to my nephew. They constantly let him come over for days at a time without saying when they’re picking him up. They made the decision to homeschool him two months ago, but lately I’ve the one that’s picked up the slack on that end. In turn, since my nephew spends so much time with me and because I practically helped raise him up until he was 5, he’s so attached to me and doesn’t leave me alone and it’s so overwhelming. I know it’s not his fault but I feel like I’m still a parent to him even though he has two capable adults that already are his parents. I can’t imagine how it’ll be when they move into the backyard.

I fear they will let him come into the house whenever he wants so they don’t have to be responsible for him. I fear they’ll be even more lazy about homeschooling him. I fear that they will expect me to cook all the meals for them and help clean their RV. Especially since they have no problem taking food sometimes when I cook dinner. I fear they’ll come into the house and get whatever they want and make whatever plans they want because that’s how they already are. It’s just so overwhelming. I feel like my safe space is being invaded.

My home, whenever they are not here, is a nice and quiet safe haven from them and the responsibilities I have with my nephew and I fear them moving so closely is going to make me combust. My mom isn’t too keen about the arrangements either but she says just talking out some boundaries will do the trick to keep them to themselves. But I highly doubt that.

Am I over exaggerating? Am I being paranoid or do I have some valid reasons to worry? I’ve told my mom that I will try and see how the living arrangements will hold up but if I can’t take them I’m considering moving to MX with family members to get away from them. At least until they buy their house.

(PS. That’s the thing also. They haven’t given an estimated time of when they’ll start looking for a new house or buying land or whatever they’re planning. They just plan whatever, involving everyone help of course, and then expect us all to go along with it. It’s happened so many times already. I’m just so tired of them)

((PPS. I also know that It could be good for my sister to be close since she has PPD. I don’t want to be insensitive about that. But I feel like them getting an apartment close to us would be good enough. We could go and help her anytime she needs. Our schedules would align that she won’t ever be alone for a long time. Not more than an hour. IDK I also feel guilty about feeling this way towards them living in the backyard since I want to be able to help my sister but I just know I’ll be even more overwhelmed than usual as well.))

I don’t think you are being unreasonable. This has disaster written all over it.

I don’t know if they (BIL/sister) understand how difficult living in an RV will be. Doesn’t matter how luxurious it is, it will be a HUGE adjustment. Especially with a NEWBORN and a 5 year old.

You are right, they will treat the house as an extension of their space and send your nephew to you when they ‘need a break’. Which will be all the time in close quarters.

I’m sorry, I truly am. This is going to be maddening. The best advice I could possibly give you is to make sure you have therapy in place and stand firm in your boundaries you lay down before they ever even move that RV in. At the end of the day - they had children, you didn’t.