#maybe on. my spring break or something..........

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Just My Type

This one is for @henderdads with her prompt - accidental first kiss. Happy Valentine's Day, Cass! I hope this will bring you some joy!

Steve Harrington wasn't known for sharing his problems with others. He was the one who resolved all your issues, not brought more to the already very overcrowded table. The kids needed some stability, and as much as he loved Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, they weren't exactly fit for that role. The girls would soon leave Hawkins for college (Steve was so proud his heart could burst), and Eddie had his hands full with the whole finishing high school thing while still recovering from being nearly eaten by demobats.

No, Steve had this handled. He was the least fun of the four, but reliable. As far as the kids knew, the only issue Steve had was his inconsistent and ever dramatic love life, nothing else.

When Steve's eyesight started getting worse, likely from all those concussions, he handled it on his own. No need to worry anyone. A secret pair of glasses for home, prescription sunglasses for driving (and yeah, he looked cool in them, despite the kids' grumbling), and that was it. They didn't need to know. Everything was working out just fine. He was great at faking things.

At least until that fateful day. But we’ll get there. First, something about Steve’s love life.

See, Steve was dating around. He had been feeling anxious, unfulfilled, and the more he thought about it, the reason wasn’t Nancy for once. Even stranger, he knew he was over her, but the feeling of needing something and not being able to get it wouldn’t leave. So he got out there, used his charm, and prayed he’d finally find the one.

So far, it wasn’t working out. Most of the girls he went out with were lovely, kind, and gorgeous, but there was always something missing that made him break things off before anyone could get hurt. He had a type - curly or wavy dark hair and even darker eyes, but hey. It wasn’t his fault that Nancy had been the closest to an ideal relationship he’d ever had! That had to be the reason, he thought. Maybe his concussed brain decided that curly hair meant a good girlfriend.

“It’s not like I can help it,” he lamented, pretending not to see Eddie’s amused smirk. They had become good friends after their Upside Down near death experience, and as Dustin never failed to mention with a truckload of disgust, they were now practically inseparable. “Who doesn’t like curly hair? They’re making it this whole thing. I’m over Nancy.”

Eddie snorted and tossed his chemistry textbook somewhere towards the pile of stuff that might have included his desk. “Uh-huh. Sure thing. So this new one-”

“Jenny.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yes. This Jenny. It’s just a coincidence that she’s a dead ringer for Wheeler.” He nudged Steve’s side with his bare foot. “Come on, Harrington. Be honest with your only adult friend.”

Steve kicked him in retaliation. “Wow, rude. I’ll let you know, I have Robin!”

“Buckley is so much more than a mere human, Steven. She doesn’t count, she surpasses our species. Whereas I,” he announced to the broken ceiling fan, “am very human, non-judgmental, and I have seen you go through half a dozen ladies of the same type since the spring break. So?”

Laughing, Steve kicked him again. “So nothing. She doesn’t look like Nancy. Hell, she looks more like you - her hair is darker, more wavy, and she has those really pretty dark eyes. And she’s tall. Are you saying you’re my type too?”

Eddie rolled over and batted his eyelashes. “I don’t know, Steve, am I?”

Steve hit him with a pillow in the face. If he hadn’t been so busy laughing, he might have just noticed the tinge of longing in Eddie’s voice.

..

To recap: the two things that led to the most important day of Steve’s life were a) his tendency to date a certain visual type of girl; b) his unwillingness to admit to anyone that he needed glasses.

Here’s what happened.

Steve, being both a good friend and a good boyfriend, took Jenny to see Eddie perform with the Corroded Coffin. Was metal his favorite music genre? Not really, but he wanted to support Eddie, and Jenny didn’t seem to mind, she even agreed to wear a Corroded Coffin t-shirt from Steve’s wardrobe.

Steve found himself enjoying the concert way more than he’d expected. The alcohol helped, sure, but it was so heartwarming to see Eddie in his element, scarred, but still the same. Steve had even learned to recognize the lyrics within all the noise, and even if he wasn’t ready to discuss that with Eddie yet, Steve considered them surprisingly deep. He really hoped Eddie would make it big, he was a wonderful guy, and life owed him big time.

After the concert, Jenny excused herself to the bathroom, and Steve went to grab some beers. His head was pleasantly buzzing, and even though his eyesight was more blurry than usual, he found his way through the crowd with ease.

He put down both beers and wrapped his arm around Jenny’s waist. He’d lost track of time at the bar, she must have come back in the meantime. And so, as they tended to do, he touched her cheek and turned her face into a quick kiss.

Steve noticed several things at once.

First, stunned gasps from the Corroded Coffin members, along with Robin’s snickering.

Second, Jenny’s cheek felt different. Almost stubbly?

Third, it was the best damn kiss he’d ever had.

And fourth, before the kiss could end, he felt something wet - the beer he’d just brought - hit his head and back, along with an angry shriek.

What happened next was a blur, and not just because he had trouble seeing it. He was vaguely aware of a second Jenny hitting him with her purse and storming off, Robin trying to control her laughter, and the person next to him, also drenched in beer? That was Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry!” Steve instinctively grabbed napkins and started drying off the beer in Eddie’s hair, on his jacket. “I...OK, not the best time to tell you, but I’ve noticed I can’t see shit, and normally I wear glasses, but I couldn’t take them with me because I look like a baby accountant or something, and I didn’t want you guys to worry. And uh, you probably know, but your hair looks kinda like Jenny’s, and I’m really sorry I did that without asking.”

Eddie was motionless, letting Steve fret over him. He was just staring into the distance, cogs turning in his brain.

Robin, bless her heart, re-directed the Corroded Coffin guys to grab a mop and a dry t-shirt from Eddie’s van for both Steve and Eddie. After that, she started ushering the unlucky pair towards men’s bathrooms, to “wash off that smell before it’s too late.” She snapped her fingers in front of Eddie’s eyes, getting him to move.  

As she shoved both of them towards the sink, she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him close. “Since you are freshly broken up, I would strongly suggest you think hard and fast about why you made that mistake, Steve. I can’t spell it out for you, even if it would be easier for everyone involved.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Yeah, uh...I think I might know.”

“Might?”

“I definitely know.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m so dumb. That...even if I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t fair to Jenny. Or the ones before.”

Robin smiled at him and, not unkindly, patted his shoulder. “They’ll get over it. In the meantime, your man looks like he’s about to faint. Don’t mess this up, OK? I couldn’t stand to see you brooding again and going through another set of Eddie substitutes.”

After she closed the door behind Steve, she grabbed the mop and started cleaning the mess. She could say it would cost Steve a lifetime of driving her around, but she knew he’d do that anyway.

..

In the bathroom, Eddie was slowly finding his words. “You...you kissed me.”

Steve took a step towards Eddie, trying not to spook him. “Yeah. I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said, pushing down the bitter memories of that word, “but I really mistook you for Jenny. I can’t see much, especially when it’s dark. I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

He couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but his voice didn’t sound fine. The music from the club drowned out most of the quieter sounds, but Steve could swear he heard a sniffle. “Of course,” whispered Eddie and he seemed so sad. Steve wanted to punch his own face. “Of course it was a mistake.”

Eddie straightened his back and wiped at his eyes before turning towards Steve. “Don’t worry, Steve. It happens. I mean, you should feel more sorry for yourself, you’re single again, and if Jenny or anyone from the club talks, they’ll think you’re a-”

“I don’t care.”

With a bitter chuckle, Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, Steve. You have a reputation to protect. Our lovely and pious citizens of Hawkins expect something like that from me, they know I’m...wrong. But you? You’re the golden boy. Steve, you should think about what this will do to you.” He wasn’t looking at Steve, his eyes were glued to the floor. Steve didn’t need a hint to know why Eddie was blinking so rapidly, why he sounded so strained.

He reached out and grasped Eddie’s hands. “Eddie. I really don’t care. I won’t feel sorry for what someone might think. The only reason I’m sorry is that I kissed you without you agreeing to it, in front of people, because...” He took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hands. “...because I wanted our first kiss to be something special. Not a case of a mistaken identity caused by my shitty eyesight. And I wish I could have done it differently, that we wouldn’t be in this dirty bathroom, and sticky and disgusting from that beer. But even if I’m sorry for not asking you, I’m also glad. Because it made me realize something really important.”

Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, still wet with tears, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. A hint of hope. “And what is that?” he asked.

Steve moved several wet strands of Eddie’s hair from his face. He looked just a little bit like a wet rat, but to Steve, he was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t wait to bury his hands in Eddie’s hair properly, when it was freshly washed. Maybe smelling of Steve’s shampoo. That was a thought.

He stroked Eddie’s cheek and for the first time in so long, he felt puzzle pieces falling in place. This was right.

“I realized that I didn’t answer you when you asked me,” he smiled and pulled Eddie closer. “You, Eddie Munson, are exactly my type.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

you’re my best friend

in which spencer reid has to teach your young son how to make friends nicely after a day at the park gone awry

fluff!! warnings/tags: fem!reader, husband!spencer yum, boy dad spencer enters the nereidprinc3ss cinematic universe!!!! yayyy!! but you still have a baby daughter as well, Spencer would 100% give his children old people names I'm sorry, gentle parenting Spencer my beloved a/n: I really miss spring its my favorite season so I found this draft that feels very springy and it makes me very happy also.. the name... like queen... also this is old so its probably not winning a pulitzer

The sun beats down just shy of hot on the sheath of fresh grass where you and Spencer are comforting your crying son—the ground beneath your blanket is a lush, verdant carpet, still cool with springtime rain but not wet. 

All of this pleasantry is lost on your son Oliver. He’s too focused on the scraped knee he sustained when he got pushed over on the wood chips. Marianne, your baby girl, is gurgling happily in her little bassinet next to you. Whoever said raising girls was harder had obviously never met the Reid siblings. Oliver is a drama queen—something you suspect he inherited from his father. 

“See? All better,” your husband is saying, wedding band glinting as gold as the curls that fall to his eyes as he smooths a bandaid over Oli’s wound. Seeing him like this never gets old.

Oli’s crying chokes to a confused halt. 

“It still hurts,” he complains. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. But you shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

“I wanted to be her f-friend,” Oli says, his sweet little bow lips (all Spencer) beginning to pout again. 

Your husband wipes Oliver’s already teary cheeks gently. “I know, but she didn’t know that. Not everybody likes to be pushed, even when you’re playing, because it’s kinda mean, isn’t it?”

“I was not being mean.”

“Do you push all your friends?”

“Sometimes,” Oliver says stormily. Spencer gives him a knowing look. 

“Are you sure you didn’t push her just because she’s a girl?”

Little shoulders raise and drop heavily. Guilty. 

“I know it’s sometimes hard to make friends with girls, but they generally don’t like being pushed. Not anymore than boys do. Maybe even less.”

“Then how do I make friends with them?”

Spencer considers this. 

“Well… how do you usually make friends?”

“I ask if they wanna play.”

“Sounds like you already know how to make friends with girls, then. That’s all you have to do.”

“How did you be friends with mommy?” Oli asks, bunching the blanket in his little hand. You smile to yourself.  

Spencer’s eyes flash up to you for only a second, his lips parted in what only you would recognize to be amusement. 

“I was super nice to her. Me and mommy are really good friends, right?”

Oliver nods dutifully. 

“Do you know why?”

A shake of his little curly head, this time.

“Because when you’re nice to someone, it usually makes them want to be your friend. Not always. But you have a much better chance that way. If I pushed mommy the first time we met, I don’t think we’d be here today.”

Your lips flatten to zip in a laugh. To Oliver, this is a very serious matter. To you, too. It’s important that he grows up to treat people well. 

“Why not?”

Spencer dodges the question smoothly. 

“Why don’t you try going to apologize to her? She might not want to talk to you, and that’s okay. But if you say you’re sorry, maybe you guys can play nicely together.”

This determines the already willful Oliver, who pushes up clumsily before running down the knoll on his short legs and approaching the swing set where his earlier assailant now plays alone. He stops far enough away that he can make a break for it if she gets a fixing to push him again. Smart boy. 

You and Spencer observe the interaction carefully, and while you can’t hear what’s being said, things seem to go well. Soon they’re making their way to the little kid’s playground in tandem. 

“Super nice, huh?”

“I really wanted to be your friend,” Spencer counters, scooting closer to Marianne’s bassinet. “Hi, angel,” he coos, demeanor instantly softening as he strokes her soft cheek. You can’t help smiling. The look in his eyes is truly something to behold. “God, I’m never gonna get over how much she looks like you.”

You preen and try to hide it. “You can’t possibly know that yet. Her skeletal structure is far from fully developed.” 

“Uh oh,” Spencer says to Marianne, offering her a quarter of a strawberry from a Tupperware. “Mommy is starting to sound like me. Is that scary, or what?”

Marianne cackles and burbles and takes the fruit with her little clutching fingers, only missing her mouth the first time she tries to eat it. 

“You’re so good at this,” you murmur thoughtlessly. The moment Oliver was born he’d been a natural. Earlier, even. You saw it in his eyes the second you tearfully told him you were pregnant. He’s a man of many gifts—and that extends to the way he parents. 

His gaze turns to you, still just as soft, but more knowing, on you. It’s comforting, to be known and seen and loved like that. 

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Corny,” you tease.

He shuffles on his knees to be closer to you. “Biologically factual.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you into him with an arm and presses a firm kiss to your head. 

“Have I told you how much I appreciate you recently?” He murmurs into the quiet dark against your temple, shielded from the spring sun. 

You’re melting in his hold, the way you always do. “Mhm.”

“Good. There’s nobody I’d rather be super nice to.”

You breathe him in—feel the rush of happy chemicals flood your brain.

“What if I pushed you?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he asserts, pulling back and framing your face between his hands. 

“But if I did.”

He regards you with narrowed eyes. 

“Why? Am I in trouble?”

“Maybe.” But you say it too coyly. The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“I’d forgive you,” Spencer murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “But if you want to be my friend, you can just ask, lovely.”

One more quick peck, and he’s situating himself to lay his head in your lap once more. You slide his sunglasses on for him once he’s settled, and he catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. Your lips twist. 

“You make it so hard to want to push you. I need you to be mean.”

He laughs. 

“Too bad. I like being nice to you.”

[dumbgoondog]

On Display(Part 4)

MDNI +18 NSFW

Fem Reader, them getting to see your cunt for the first time. These are short quick reads.

Ft. Nanami, Jogo, and Inumaki

Cw/Tw - Jogo is a bit mean, Inumaki is dumb

KENTO NANAMI

He’s so calm, stoic as usual, and reaching two hands up, one to his glasses the other to his tie. You thought he’d like the surprise, getting home from overtime to you just in an apron, with a nice warm dinner. You knew how much he loved coming home to something normal versus his work, and the way he was pulling off his tie you knew he needed this.

You can see his jaws clench, he’s moving forward carefully, hands slipping to hold, to squeeze, your waist. He leans in, that one strand of hair breaking free to dance on his forehead as he kisses your shoulder. A low hum against your skin, his breath warm and hand warm as you feel him cup you, “Well, a two course meal is a wonderful reward… thank you my love.”

TOGE INUMAKI

“Ooo la la~!” Toge hoots from the bed looking over his phone to jest at you and your naked wet body. You roll your eyes with a huff hiding you smile, “Ugh you’re so unsexy you know that? I come to our room after a shower, first time naked in front of you, you’ve got a whole lot of sexy woman in front of you and that’s it?”

You can hear him moving on the bed your back to him as you get clothes out, and you hear the zipper. You’re whipping around fully ready to smack him for even thinking to use his cursed speech, playfully of course, but your jaw is dropping seeing his bare chest and the tent in his pants. A shit eating grin pulls across his face as he leans back sitting on the bed’s edge now, “come here.” And you obey.

JOGO

You startle diving deeper into the water of the hot spring, as Jogo makes his way to the edge of the water. He pays you zero attention as he sits on his rock perch and pulls out his pipe while you bubble embarrassed. You were going to lift your head to say something but he speaks first, “you bein’ naked means nothin’, I’m a curse! We don’t have those parts or care.”

You somewhat deflate, your boyfriend was… blunt to nicely put it, but you’d hoped maybe he’d at least understand the intimacy of the situation rather than shut it down… “c’mere, firefly.” His voice breaks you from your thoughts and you swim over curious, “I do wanna know though, what the fuss is about em. Why don’t ya sit in my lap and let me find out hmm?”

[ghost-proofbaby]

hiii, I saw your post about the valentine's event and wanted to ask if you could write a something about Shadowheart going on a cute cottagecore date with a female reader. I don't usually request things because it makes me nervous, so I hope my writing isn't bad lol. have good day or night and thank you!!

ABSOLUTELY!! your writing isn't bad in the slightest, dear <3 i really love the thought of going on a cottagecore picnic with shadowheart, just reading to her as you play with her hair and aaaaaaah. this is my first time properly writing shadowheart x reader so i hope i did her justice as i dip my toes into the water <3

wc: 1.1k+

You’re trying to recall a time Shadowheart has looked so beautiful as she does now, and you’re falling short. 

Perhaps that time in the Underdark, in which she gazed around with eyes full of wonder and childlike grin at all the new scenery, could compare. Or perhaps the first time you’d gifted her a Night Orchid, and she’d seemingly glowed from within as she beamed at you behind all her faux casualness. Maybe her silhouette in the moonlight, on the beach during your travels, the night you’d taught her how to swim, could mimic this moment.

But it’s hard to think upon those times when the right here, right now is in front of you. 

The afternoon sun is warming her skin just right, pools of gold breaking through the leaves of the tree overhead and catching onto her high cheekbones just so. The bridge of her nose has turned a few shades pinker than it had been when the two of you first arrived, and it’s done nothing to deter her from keeping her head tilted back towards the sunshine. Her silvery white hair is littered with cherry blossoms, her comfortable garments are flowy in the soft spring breeze, there’s a ghost of a grin still on her kiss-bitten lips – she’s beautiful. 

Plain and simple. No metaphors, no elaborate plots to go about it. Your girlfriend is the vision of beauty herself, and she has you speechless. 

“Have you had enough of all your gawking, lover?” she hums, teasing as she cracks an eye open to peer at you. 

The book you had been reading out loud for both of you lays abandoned on your lap, pages face down so as to avoid letting the words distract you, “Never.”

You think you’d spend the rest of your life gawking, as she had so lovingly put it, if she’d just allow it.

“Well, who am I to complain?” she sighs out as she leans further back on her arms, entire body relaxing as another breeze flutters by. You swear, something in the air is whispering for you to kiss her again, “Although, I have to say, I was awfully enjoying that adventurous story of yours.” 

“We’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime,” you laugh a little, shifting around on the soft blanket on the ground, narrowly avoiding the picnic basket as you seek out a better view of her, “Is it so wrong for me to simply be relaxing?” 

“Gawking – not relaxing.” 

“Same thing.” 

“Is no-”

You cut her off with an unexpected kiss. Leaning your full weight forward, and capturing her mouth against yours. You’d steal all her breath away, if only she’d allow it. 

And she nearly does. She reciprocates easily despite you catching her off guard, quick to reach out for your hips, desperate to pull you closer. There’s no need for begging or bartering, however – you’re already on the move to situate yourself in her lap, fingers already carefully carding around the flowers you had placed in her hair, your own warmed skin eager to feel the press of hers. 

“What about the book?” she smiles against your lips, pulling back just a touch. 

You chase after her, not letting her get far, “Who cares? If you want to experience a real adventure, we can just call up Withers for another go-round-” 

She shuts you up with a kiss now. 

Hands dancing across the hem of your dress, inching it up, up, up. Not a secret motive in sight, nothing dastardly on the mind; she simply wants to be close to you. She only aches to feel her fingertips pressing into the soft skin of your thighs a bit, only craves to let the taste of sticky sweet strawberries on your lips dance on her tongue for a while. 

You get the message well enough. 

This is enough, she whispers with a playful nip at your bottom lip. Stay here with me, just a while longer.

And you will. She doesn’t even need to ask – you’d stay fiercely at her side to the ends of Faerun. You’ve already been fiercely at her side for travels through approximately half of it.

All the kissing and wandering hands with no real destination is a lovely reprieve, but it comes to a sudden end when a flash of white fur barrels into the two of you. 

“Oomph!”

“Scratch!” 

The two of you yell out in sync, no real anger behind your words as you collapse to the ground for the overexcited dog to trample both of you. The laughter is bubbling like champagne, and a paw weighs heavy on your chest as you watch Scratch begin his assault of licks across Shadowheart’s freckled cheeks.

Giggles, gentle chastising, springtime air, the smell of the grass’ dew below you – it all bursts around you with a whoosh, and it feels a lot like home. 

“I was wondering when you might interrupt our afternoon picnic,” Shadowheart simpers as her hand reaches out to ruffle snowy fur. “Miss us too much, boy?” 

You turn onto your stomach as you roll your eyes, “Missed you, more like it. ” 

“He misses and loves us both very much.” 

“He tries to kick me out of our bed every single night,” you snort, “I’m pretty sure he’s cuddled more with you in the last fortnight than I have over the last several months.” 

“Jealous?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

Very. You’ll probably spend the rest of your days jealous of every single person who ever has the honor of occupying her time, her thoughts, her care. It’s simply impossible not to. Not after getting to see her in moments like these, not after learning her soul as intimately as you have.

But you don’t say that outright, her beauty taking you by storm once more. 

Have her eyes ever been so green? Have they always matched the blooming leaves so perfectly? Or is it simply the sunlight catching them, and your heart in the process, just right?

“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” she jests as she turns her head back to the sky, a smirk toying on her cheeks. 

Has she always been able to steal your breath away so easily? Has her coy smile always made your heart batter about your rib cage this way?

The answer always has been, and always will be, yes.

You follow her suit, catching sight of a single drifting cloud above the branches, “Of course you will.”

Scratch settles himself into her side, farthest from you obviously, and the three of you lay in blissful silence. The distant chirping of doves, the dull buzz of insects impatiently awaiting the summertime, the thrum of your heart that you somehow instinctively know has fallen in sync with your lover’s. 

It’s all white noise when her hand stretches out to yours, sincere skin brushing against your own awaiting palm for just a moment before her pinky hooks with yours.

You never do find your answer as to whether she’s ever looked quite as beautiful as she does now. You have a lifetime to keep searching.

[dandylion240]

Automatically he flipped the switch for the light. The room remained dark and gloomy. He didn’t bother to check for another bulb. He knew he didn’t have any. He’d been stealing them from the Kitchen for weeks now. Morosely he flopped onto the ancient couch. A spring poked him in the back a silent reminder of how much had changed.

What happened to all the dreams he’d had? He tossed a hand over his eyes groaning as an image of his dad’s happy faces came to mind. They’d been so happy when he told them about scholarship he’d won to the school of performing arts to study music composition.

Pressing his palms into his eyes as images of their disappointed faces came to mind. Riley especially had been hardest hit when he told them he was pregnant and not going. It was then he found out that when Riley had been his age he’d dreamed of going to the same performing arts school as well. It seemed that life had a way of repeating itself.

“You succeeded anyway” Jonah recalled saying “why can’t I do the same?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t” Riley had acknowledged “it’s going to be so much harder now.”

“You don’t think I can do it” Jonah stubbornly clung to that stoking his own anger unwilling to understand where his dad was coming from. He could only see his disappointment, his disapproval. His lack of faith in his abilities

“You’re putting words in my mouth” Riley objected. “You don’t know how difficult it was. The sleepless nights. The lack of motivation. Inspiration…”

“I can do it” he stubbornly clung to that belief. “We can do it” he amended “Ethan will help.” He remembered the way his parents looked at each other. He hadn’t understood the exchange at the time. Now he knew. It was pity. They suspected before he did that Ethan wouldn’t be there like he always thought. If only he’d listened sooner, been willing to compromise and accept the help they were offering.

With an irritated groan he rolled to his feet. Going into the kitchen his toe snagging on the old cracked linoleum. The steady plop plop of the dripping faucet the only sound other than the distant thunder from the raging storm outside.

His stomach still churned the same way it had when he’d waited for Ethan to come home. Brendan had offered to let him wait inside but the conversation he needed to have with Ethan was best done in private. He could still see the uncomplicated, unsuspecting grin Ethan had given him as he jogged up the sidewalk towards him. The tender kiss they exchanged confirming the belief that they’d be able to get through anything together.

Something in his manner must have alerted Ethan. He stepped back, “what’s wrong?”

Everything, he wanted to shout but all he could do was shake his head as the words refused to form. The concerned look in Ethan’s eyes as he felt him take his hand, squeezing tight. Taking a deep breath he had to tell him before his parents spoke to Brendan “we need to talk.”

“Are you breaking up with me” Ethan asked looking miserable.

“No of course not. Why would you think that” he blinked confused wondering how Ethan had jumped to that conclusion.

“Do you regret what we did that night? After prom?” he sounded so bleak like he expected the world to end.

Sighing Jonah looked at his feet “maybe a little” he admitted. The sound of shuffling feet had him hastily add “but not for the reasons you think.”

“You haven’t been the same since” Ethan pointed out refusing to look at him. “What else could there be?”

His mouth flopped open , “I’m I’m pregnant” he stammered flinching beneath the half disbelieving half angry look Ethan was giving him. The silence between them lengthened until he couldn’t bear it any more. Lifting his eyes “please say something.”

“What do you want me to say” he snapped, “I’m not ready to be a father.”

A rock seemed to have formed in Jonah's stomach that was trying to crawl it’s way back up his throat. Blinking back the instant tears “I um thought you’d have my back. That we’d um…”

“I do” Ethan asserted “but we’re not ready to have a baby yet. What about college? Our careers? There’ll be plenty of time later for us to have kids.”

Jerking from Ethan’s touch he cried “just not now. Is that it? We just get rid of the baby?” He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d never imagined this conversation. It hadn’t been an option.

Ethan stood there silently watching him. “I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone.”

Nausea made him swallow compulsively to keep the bile down. There was a buzzing in his ears as he digested Ethan’s words. Pushing past him “I have to go.”

“You know I’m right” Ethan attempted to walk with him. “Now isn’t the time for us to have a baby. We have too much going for us right now to mess it up with a kid.”

“You’re not even willing to discuss it. To try” Jonah cried wanting nothing more than to get away.

“What if it doesn’t work out,” he asked, putting on a pretense to consider keeping the baby. “Then what? It’s not like we could get rid of it then. We’d be stuck.”

“No” Jonah blanched at his words “I’ll be stuck. I’ll do it on my own if I have to.” Turning he ran from the yard certain Ethan would follow. They’d talk. Figure everything out. It hadn’t happened that way. He ran until he couldn’t run anymore. Falling to his knees he sank to the ground screaming out to the uncaring hills around him.

Previous / Next

[chonnysinferno]

uhhhh fart and mint i n, yea and soul cause. astrjum watned to draw. himsrlf i guess

[lerildeal]

doodles for a game I haven’t played in over 5 years 😔

[neptunesailing]

mayoi (enstars x hnk au)

[supersymmetries]

i've finally reached the part in the semester where we're covering the second law of thermodynamics. matt bellamy we're in it together now

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Applied for a job and applying to community college. It feels weird. It feels like I'm 18 again, even though I'm turning 23 in less than a week. It feels promising though

[supercantaloupe]

at the end of rehearsal too while i was packing up one of the conducting students came over to me and asked if i was interested in playing for his informal lunchtime concert series he recently started up. i was like sure but i don't have anything prepared to play, but i guess i could do something in the future. and then he asked if me and the principal oboe would play something together and i was like well if we had something to play sure, maybe next spring sometime. and then i mentioned to him that we're attempting to get a wind quintet going (need to find a bassoon first) so if that gets off the ground we could probably play for him too. and he grinned and went "i want that"

[mirchloe]

frazie meets her match when she throws an acorn or a rock, and adam casually deflects it with his yo-yo. she's sweating. gobsmacked. words aren't coming to her. adam is walking the dog.

[most-fuck-able-ff14]

Mod MCH here adding in some extra points from the previous post (cant link with anon) because undiagnosed ADHD go brrr and i'll occasionally think of something to say after i've already dusted my hands of the situation

don't suck the fun out of internet polls for fictional characters about arbitrary personal opinions just because you've based your entire personality around being a simp for said fictional character. its not cool or fun to shit on other characters and the people that enjoy them (or make ridiculous claims like "doing everything they can do get G'raha eliminated")

its fun to go feral and say crazy shit about the character you love. don't let that extend to shitting on the other characters and people that enjoy them when your favourite is up against another character. go touch some grass, feel the light on your skin, have a conversation with someone face to face. maybe enjoy your local sights? revaluate yourself and your enjoyment of something if it results in being hateful to others

-Mod Machinist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I will say this is the last we'll talk about it, if only because the drama i'm worried continued conversation will cause will drain the fun even more. This tournament has been fun and has legit been a joy and something I look forward to, but when I get online and think "i'm not going to read the tags anymore" or "I don't want to check the polls" it reminds me how really funny it is how very quickly (almost a month) the tune and attitude of something fun can change.

So instead of feeling like I have to scold a group of people or like I don't want to continue the polls I'm just gonna take a break and not interact with y'all until the finals! gonna practice what i preach, ya dig?

remember to have fun and stay hydrated! -Mod Fisher

[madegeeky]

Tomorrow Mr. Geeky and I's relationship will be old enough for it to legally buy alcohol in the United States.

[absentmoon]

im so brave(got up to have a snack

[arakiincel]

i need to read more…