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solarsavoy · 2 years ago

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I’m just going to ask you for this now before I forget but for character Tuesday, do you think you can do Maehara this time 👀

Character Tuesday, Maehara!

I actually started this last night and had to go to work so I was going to finish it later, but then my allergies decided to wake me up at 3:30 and I usually post this at 4 so I figured "why not" and finished it up now and I'm only posting it 40 minutes later than my usual time. Definitely some Maehara vibes for you, lol. Enjoy the ask! Thank you, Hailey for sending it.

1 – Favorite color?

Red, because it's flashy. He doesn't always look the best in it, but I totally see him being the type to get a red convertible for the attention.

2 – Hobbies?

Hanging out at the mall trying to pick up ladies.

3 – What are their strengths?

He knows how to compliment a lady. Trust me, not everyone knows how to legitimately do that. Living in the moment, and able to think quickly on his feet because of it.

4 – What are their weaknesses?

Committment. Long-term anything. I imagine he's the type that has to study all night the night before or he'll start to forget things. Unorganized. (Or as I like to call it, a particularly organized mess on purpose.)

5 – Favorite food(s)?

Junk food. Any of it. I can see his body not being able to keep up after his teen years are over and him going on one of those strict diet and exercise routines and then finally in his 30's being one of those dads that sneaks in a bacon cheeseburger in the middle of the night because it "doesn't count if no one's watching". I see you Maehara. 👀

6 – Least favorite food(s)?

Those protein bars and shakes that taste like chalk or are just plain flavorless. Avoids them like the plague.

7 – What would be their dream job?

Talent scout. What better job than to check out attractive and talented people all day?

8 – What is their DND alignment?

Neutral good. He's a good person at heart and has both lawful and chaotic tendencies. He isn't afraid to stand up for what's right, but he's also not afraid to "bend the rules" a bit either. I imagine Isogai had a large part in the lawful side even existing.

9 – What is their hidden talent?

He's double jointed. He probably showed this off a lot to people when he was younger just to get the "gross!" reaction but when he started liking girls and actively going after them, he hid it. Didn't want them thinking he was gross on the first date. 😉

10 – List a personality quirk of this person.

He's a romantic, in a quirky way. Of course he knows how to sweep a girl off her feet, but he also envisions them in sweet scenarios. If a girl wants to sing, he'll imagine he's backstage at her concert with a boquet, or if the girl is into tennis, he imagines going to all her games and when she wins the championship, their eyes meet despite all the chaos surrounding them. He does this in the moment and it's what makes his conversation during dates so flawlessly perfect. In the singer's case, "you have the voice of an angel. I could only wish to give you a flower worthy of your lips." In the case of the tennis player, "your focus on the ball is astounding. I could only hope to catch even a second of that gaze." But he never tells them about his scenarios. They are secret moments and then he forgets them.

11 – List something strange/weird/unexpected about this character that their loved ones probably don’t know about them.

He has something that belonged to the first girl that ever broke his heart. It's the one thing he never forgets. He'll pull it out of its hiding place if he happens to not have a date on certain holidays and then swears he'll never let someone else hurt him like that again. And then he'll sit there and remember why he fell in love with her.

12 – What is their complex? (Sister, inferiority, etc) Explain.

Don Juan complex, which basically means he desires to have many sexual encounters with people. It specifies with a man wanting to be with many women, but I'm sure it still applies if that man is bisexual.

13 – What is their main sin of the seven deadly ones?

Lust times infinity. Just kidding, kinda.

14 – How would they be as a parent?

Okay, so, because I think he eventually becomes bi and that he also feels that gender is irrelevant, especially in love, it depends on the kid. If the kid is soft spoken and shy, ultimate protective dad. Interrogates anyone who dares date them. Makes the date PROVE they will take care of his baby. Age holds no bounds. He'll do this if his kid's 40. If the child is confident or outspoken and sociable, he constantly gives them advice on how to pick up others. Constantly talks them up and shares dating stories. When the kid's younger, he'll talk about all the wonderful things they'll do, such as dating all the pretty people and how he's gonna have trouble beating them off with a stick. I think he'd do this no matter what. He'd be so lost if his kid ended up being asexual. 😆 He'd be like "who the hell'd you inherit that from?" And then constantly asking questions, trying to understand, and failing to do so.

15 – What is their main love language?

Touch. He's always the first to initiate and it always has more thought behind it than others would expect, but the person's reaction would tell him everything he needs to know about them. It would say they were interested, or not, and he can tell from a single touch, a bump, an accidental brush of their fingers. I think it's why he's been so successful, at least enough to get known for dating a lot of people.

16 – How do they act around a crush?

It goes one of two ways depending on how long he's known them. Less than a week, no different than he would picking up any other girl. If it's someone in 3-E or even Isogai, I think he avoids them. He'd be afraid of getting hurt because they already know too much. He'd fumble his words. Everything would come out wrong. Oh, the angst! He'd say something stupid and go run away to the bathroom and cry about it for being so uncharacteristically uncool. And then he'd convince himself it wouldn't work and move on to the next person. 😅 Poor dude.

17 – How do they act when they are in love?

There are two answers for this.

1. The love he thinks he knows.

He's flying over the moon. He's telling everyone about them. He's bragging about them. Millions and millions of pictures are taken. Spends lots of time with them. Gets into trouble with them. And then the honeymoon stage ends and he moves on and the girls call him out on his committment issues.

2. Real love.

He constantly feels sick. His voice gets caught in his throat. He's weak in the knees. He's nervous. He's scared to touch them or hold their hand, but doesn't want to leave. He's a lost puppy hoping the person will take care of him, and he's loyal in return, never wanting to leave. He's at a loss for words, and the words that come are all jumbled up. He's so in love, he's lovesick all the time. He'd be happy just to be in the same room as them, staring at them. It's so intense it's scary, and he never wants it to stop.

18 – How would they react to a confession of love?

"I know. Wanna go on a date? I'm totally free tonight/right now." 😉 (Says this whether or not he's actually free. It's not often when they approach him instead of vice versa.)

19 – How do they show their love/affection?

He's strikes me as a huge cuddler. I also imagine he's good at displays of affection via gifts like flowers and chocolate or last second vacations where they just take the train without a destination in mind and see what happens, but not on anniversaries or anything. It needs to be random.

20 – What is their idea of a good time?

When he is completely lost in the moment. It doesn't matter what he's doing or who he's with, but the moment needs to overtake any other worries or thoughts holding him back. He needs to be engaged and laughing or screaming or making out or whatever the situation calls for. But any time he's lost in the moment is a good time for him. It's all about living life to the fullest in that second, or minute, or hour. Those moments that seem to last forever are his favorite.

21 – Describe their ideal date.

You know, this is actually the question I'm answering last? 😅 I couldn't really come up with anything unique and I feel like I'm a broken record, but his ideal date is one where he finds a way to wisk both him and his date off into the moment. It'd be filled with lots of sporadic decisions that happen to work out. They pick a destination and end up stopping along the way for something better, and some fancy restaurant ends up with a cancelation and they're able to skip the 2 month reservations and get in at the last second. Anything that just... sweeps him away. That's the ideal date.

22 – How do they handle drama?

By adding to it. I fully see Maehara being the center of drama and unknowingly, or even knowingly, adding to it. It's legitimate. I mean, that thing with Kaho and Seo wasn't really his fault, but it was certainly centered around him. And I don't blame him for being hurt by it, but it's not hard to imagine that there's many scenarios that happen that way in his life, allbeit less brutal, but being a promiscuous loverboy doesn't exactly lead a drama free life. 😅

23 – What is their sexual preference/sexuality?

I've lightly mentioned this in passing before, but I fully believe Maehara is a hypersexual bisexual. I see him preferring women mostly, but after some self reflection, I think he'd be open to men too. I also see him being the "man" in all cases though, which is why I think he'd prefer women. I don't think he'd like being the one that's pursued. Being the pursuer isn't necessarily gender specific, but men tend to be the pursuer more often and as flattering as it is, that's the fun part for him. He has to be the pursuer. He has to be the one that brings the flowers, that picks the date, that works hard to impress the person. It's the fun part for him.

As a sidenote, I do think he'd be willing to try out an open relationship with someone. I don't think it'll work long term though. As far as marriage and settling down, he's monogamous, but I don't see him settling any time soon. No, he strikes me as a guy that's gonna try everything and everyone first. 😉

24 – What is their BDSM tag? (Brat, sub, Master, vanilla, etc)

So this one's kind of hard. I see him being on multiple sides for controller/controllee for different things, but I think this is the best way to explain him. He's a Hunter/Master. Put simply, Masters like controlled environments. Maehara isn't one who follows all the rules, which is distinctly not a Master trait, but he does like things certain ways and anything that deviates can be a turn off, which is a Master trait. Maehara wants to be the pursuer. I can see him wanting to be catered to in certain ways, like slaves take care of Masters. However, he wouldn't want the responsibility of controlling/caring for the slave per se. But in all other aspects, he's very Hunter-ish. Hunters live in the moment, follow carnal instincts, care more about the game than the rules of obtaining it. On a scale of 1 to 10 though, 10 being extreme, he's very light. I'd say 1 or 2 in Master and 3 or 4 in Hunter. Remember, this is more in terms of dynamic. I don't think he's very kinky, but he's explorative, so he'd probably have a lot of fun stories to tell before he settled down.

25 – What is their phobia or greatest fear?

It's a minor fear, but I think it goes along with Isogai's really well. He fears the unlived life. Now that I'm thinking of it, maybe Maehara was affected by the death of Isogai's father just as much. They were best friends growing up, so I'm sure he was close to him, and I've described Isogai's father as a person who loved what he did every waking second. In Isogai's father's case, he loved giving his time and money and love to those in need, especially his family. Perhaps Maehara interpreted it as simply loving life, so he grew to live in the moment. You know, I like this idea, so it is now my new headcanon. Maehara lives in the moment because of the effect Isogai's father had on him. 💙

26 – What is their emotional damage?

This is also not too extreme in my opinion, but it hits deep. That girl that broke his heart is something I think hurts him because she's the one that got away. It was his first love, even though it was so young, and it's shaped who he is in many ways. It's why he's afraid of committment. He's afraid of actually loving someone with all his heart, so he keeps it guarded. It's why I chose to go where I did with the loveydovey questions. The moment he realizes he actually likes someone, it's that "shit just got real" moment and he's terrified it'll end. I think this'll be easily overcome as he ages though, but like I said, it hits deep.

27 – How do they handle emotional pain?

Starts drama, like in that situation with Kaho and Seo. I don't blame him, but he is an active part of the drama. Lol. He's not afraid to call someone out on how they hurt him and he's not afraid to do this in front of other people, so yeah, he starts drama, whether or not that was actually his intention.

28 – How do they handle physical pain?

Like a champ! I think he's one of those tough guys that brushes it off unless there's a cute nurse, then he'd totally blow it out of proportion just to keep her around to nurse him back to health. 😆

29 – What would bring them to kill someone?

Another hard one. In some ways, I think he'd find it easy to do. In others, I don't think he's even capable of it. It all comes down to the moment. Does the moment call for it? Is it necessary? For example, if 3-E didn't love Korosensei at the end, I think he'd be perfectly okay killing him. If he were a soldier in war, he'd have no problem following through. If he's not though, then he wouldn't. I hope that makes sense.

30 – How would they react or change after they’ve killed someone?

Maehara strikes me as the type of guy that lives with no regrets, and with the answer to 29, each situation is different and comes with varying consequences. With that said, I think he'd find himself thinking about it at random and just be stuck in that moment for a while, silently watching it happen all over again. So it would haunt him, but he'd let it go, believe it had to happen, and move on. He wouldn't actually move on though. I think he'd find himself stuck in that moment over and over again throughout the rest of his life, but it wouldn't stop him from living, or at least trying to.

If any of this goes against canon, know that I answered these questions without any major research on Maehara. I think he'd be proud of me for going in unprepared. 😆 Anyway, I hope it doesn't stray too far away from anything. Feel free to let me know!

#assassination classroom #solarsavoyasks #hiroto maehara #daily delivery #Character Tuesday

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saokpe · 4 years ago

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HDLW SIbling Week 2020 Day 1: Adventure

It’s time to celebrate the most chaotic quartet of siblings know to duck kind with little DnD inspired fic!

@hdlwsiblingweek2020

Ducks and Dragons

“Are we ready to start our adrenaline pumping adventure!” An ecstatic Huey proclaims over the table. His siblings occupying the remaining seats, hovering their confused gazes over a collection of figures, plastic dice, and hardcover books.

“So, uhm-” Louie begins, still analyzing the display of trinkets ahead of him, “-this is a game about pretending to go on adventures, a thing we do almost every day?” The duck’s cynical suspicion directs itself towards the cap-wearing triplet, the 10-inch cardboard wall between them doing little to block it.

“It’s not only about going on an adventure, dear Llewellyn-” Huey agonizingly teases, “It’s about making a story!”

“Wait, wait, wait, do these colorful rocks have NUMBERS on them!” Dewey intersects, ruthlessly inspecting one of the oddly shaped dice, “I thought you said this was going to be fun! This looks like MATH!” The brother’s biting fury echoes.

“Oh c’mon guys.” Webby attempts to calm the derailing group, “I’m sure this’ll be fun. So I get that these plastic toys are to throw at other players, but what about this sheet of paper?” The girl raises the assigned and already filled character sheet, her innocently oblivious eyes curling curiously.

“No-” Huey stops himself from spewing the erratic words that were sure to fly in his frustration, “Why don’t we just start playing and see what happens from there, ok?”

“Alright.”

“Okey-dokey.”

“Better than whatever Scrooge had planned for the evening.”

“Perfect,” Huey takes a deep breath, scanning over his story notes quickly before re-addressing the party. “The night sets across the peaceful landscape, soon to rise again. Beneath the twilight, a tavern proved lively and bustling. A truth one realizes once they enter through its welcoming walls looking for a group which can help in a mission placed upon them by those that be, something that your character, Webby, is experiencing right now.”

“Oh cool!” Webby looks over to the table, “Is this when we start throwing stuff?”

“No; Dewey,” Dewey dismisses the perplexing dice he fiddled with throughout his brother’s monologue, gifting his attention to Huey now that he called his name, “-you said you were a Bard, right?”

“Yes!” He answers confidently, allowing himself to think the question through after the fact. He leans closer to the game master, “That’s the one that sings, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes! I am a Bard!” Dewey’s previous enthusiasm manifests.

“Alright then. Webby, your character, as they dash inside the busy establishment, the sound of blasting music welcomes you. You see, standing above the sea of guests, an extravagantly dressed…” Huey signals towards the now enthralled Dewey, his awestruck gaze not shifting at the motion. Seeing no difference, he waves again.

“What is this, what are you doing?” Dewey, still maintaining his smile, asks impatiently.

“Describe your character.” Huey returns, whispering between his teeth.

“OH!” The Bard straightens up, “I’m wearing a loose contortment of cut up robes of various different colors, and, and, he has this really cool guitar thing that kinda looks like an egg, which was weird and cool and I imagine it sounds like an electric guitar and he is rocking it, I mean totally destroying the stage. And-”

“Yeah, you get the picture,” Huey interrupts, directing himself at one awfully silent player. “How about you, Louie, what class are you?”

“Huh?” The addressed duck doesn’t move from his slouched seat, his hand fidgeting restlessly with the phone he placed his full attention on. “I don’t know, Geography.”

“I mean your Ducks and Dragons class.” Huey’s monotone corrects, sizzling annoyance in every word.

“Oh,” The brother looks over to his increasingly complex character sheet, darting across it in search of this so-called class. “Ah! Here it is.” His eyes narrow as his hands pull the piece of paper closer to his eyes, “Rogooe? Roge? Rojue?”

“A rogue, got it.” The dismissive voice of Huey clears, a lack of further enthusiasm in his tone. “Webby, as you continue to travel through the various tables and chairs, you notice the figure you were told spent his nights in the dusted corners of the tavern you stood in. Counting the shining amulets of small gold pieces, Louie would you please describe your character.”

“Right, right, uhm, Class: Rogwe, Race: Elf… Duck? Background: Charlatan, Experience Points: 0, and Player Name: Louie Duck!” Louie triumphantly tosses the paper back to his corner of the table, falling back to his seat, staring over to his brother’s dumbfounded face with a smug and arrogant snicker.

A deep sigh sounds through the table before Huey continues, “So you see this Elf Duck, seemingly unaware of your permeating gaze, what do you do?”

“I walk towards him.”

“Ok, Louie, just as you are about to account for the last of your previous odd job’s payment, this huge looming figure shadows over you. Webby if you could please describe your character.”

“Of course!” Webby raises from her seat, tilting her shoulder as she prepares her speech, directing her body to the somewhat disinterested Louie, catching his attention. “Standing before you, enveloping you, trapping you in their intimidating silhouette is the plated figure of a Half-Orc. Shattered armoring stabbed and overgrown over their bulging muscles, their tusks matching the dark greens of their slashed and scarred skin. My expression matching those with little value for life, I sit at the opposite side of your empty table.”

“Do you do anything about it.”

“No…” Louie responds in a petrified, wide eyed, and high pitched squeal. His now straightened and attentive body shaking as it prepares for conversation.

Clearing her throat, Webby prepares her following sentence, which emergers in a voice that isn’t her own. Deep and gravely, a tone probably acquired from various almost-fatal strikes to the jugular, the frightening figure tells Louie’s character. “Are you Laten?”

“We’re doing scary voices now?” Louie, his voice quivering over the overpowering presence of this alter-ego his sister had made for herself, directs to the game master.

Huey shrugs in response.

“You mean AWESOME voice! Go on, keep going!” Dewey waves, resting his chins over his palm as he anticipates the following interaction.

“Alright then,” The cowardly duck relaxes himself for a second, allowing the immediate paranoia to wash over before responding, “Depends on who’s asking?”

“Name’s Worerdurk, I have a job for you.”

“Hey Huey, it says here that I’m a Thief Rojue, does Webby’s character have, like, a money pouch or something,” Louie breaks character.

“OOOOOOOH-” Dewey begins, “You’re gonna steal from the big giant Half-Orc person!?”

“Just gonna check.” A mischievous grin can’t help but manifest itself over the lying schemer’s face.

“Roll a perception check then.” Huey instructs.

“Uhm,” The previously smiling duck looks down to his basically encoded paper, “What would that be?”

“Oh, over here.“ Webby leans from her side of the table, knocking over many of the placed figurines, pointing to the skill section of the character sheet.

“No! Don’t help him Webby, he’s gonna steal all your gold!” Dewey attempts to prevent foreseen disaster.

“It’s alright, it’s just a game.” The victimized party assures.

The still singing Bard’s player thinks the question over, eventually whispering to himself, “No… it’s a story…”

“Ok, what do I need to roll?” Louie, still unsure in his statements, asks.

“The d20.” Huey casually instructs.

“And that would be the…?”

“The bigger round one.”

“Got it! Alright…” Llewelyn’s hand grasps onto the small plastic dice, his forearms vibrating, bouncing the tool between their fingers before it’s released, clashing across the table. “I got an 18 plus something.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely enough. You look across Worerdurk’s outfit and it seems to you that they don’t have any money on them.”

“What?” Louie’s surprise is directed back to the smiling Webby, “You expect me to do a job with you for no money then?”

“Oh, I promise you a hefty amount of gold will fill your pockets. But I think we might need a third party.” The grizzled voice suggests.

“Oh, do I hear that! Can I go over there?!” Dewey, quickly excited, bounces and pleads to his elder brother.

“Ehhh, it’s a bit Meta-gamey, but sure, why not. Your performance has ended and you rush to the corner of the tavern.”

“I don’t know what that means, but HELL YEAH!”

“So as you guys are discussing this, emerging from the stage at the opposite side of the building is an attention grabbing Duckling.”

“A Duckling? Like a child?” Webby attest.

“Yes!” Dewey answers.

“No.” Huey corrects.

“No!” Dewey repeats.

“A Duckling is like a different race, like Elf Ducks and Half-Orcs, their traditionally not very tall, this fellow that ran over isn't much different.”

“HEY! HI! I’m Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewerius, Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome, the coolest of my triplets and a very talented performer, it’s a pleasure.”

The table of players meet each other's gaze before resting them over the unrefined Dewey. Huey questions, “Is, uhm, Dewerius-”

“Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome."

“Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome, is he supposed to, y’know, represent a specific someone or is inspired by maybe his player or?”

“Hmm, let me think- nope, not at all, now,” He looks back to Louie and Webby, elegantly singing, partly out of note, “Are we going on an adventure or not?”

“Yes,” Louie naturally falls into character, the fluidity forcing a smile on Huey’s beak. “What exactly are we doing, Worerdurk?”

“The biggest hoarder of gold in all the land has a rather large bounty on their head, I was looking for some help to spend all of it once we kill em?”

“Ooooooh, and who is this shrewd gazillionaire? Don’t say Scrooge, this is gonna get really awkward if you say it's Scrooge.” Dewey’s charisma saps to a deadpan monotone.

“Oh don’t worry my tiny friend,” Webby’s harsh imitation of gruffness assures, “Think more a fire breathing dragon.”

“Well that’s definitely interesting,” Laten speaks out, “Only legend speaks of the wealth they carry, you can count me in.”

“And count me three!” Dewey, I mean Dewerius (the Amazing and Awesome) adds.

“Perfect. Uhm… So what do we do now?” Webby returns to her usual voice, honest bewilderment in the question. She shares an eye with the rest of her party only to be met with the same insecurity.

“Well you can do anything you want!” Huey, still recovering from the serotonin of his family's enjoyment of the hobby, optimistically yells out.

“Anything?” Dewey asks again.

“Yes! Anything! That’s the beauty of D&D, the world is your oyster, it's a game where you can do and create anything that comes to your imaginations!”

The playing siblings share a mischievous smile as the realization of what the excited declaration implied falls over the game master. As an almost telepathic link befell Webby, Dewey, and Louie; Huey screams out:

“Wait! No-”

The party then proceeded to spend the next four hours doing literally anything but killing a dragon. An unexpected turn for the story that Huey did not plan for. Poor kid.

Read all of my HDLW Sibling Week fics here

#HDLW #ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #HDLW Sinling Week 2020 #Huey Duck #Louie Duck #Webby Vanderquack #Dewey Duck

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steveusesfaberge · 5 years ago

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3AM Talks

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hargrove!Reader

Request: Hi!! Could you possibly do a Hargrove!Reader, where she’s Billy’s twin and Neil, hurts her one night and billy comes home after being out to find the scene and he loses it and he takes reader out to steve(whom she’s secretly dating) and tells Steve that she’s staying there whilst his parents are out and they’re both like “how the fuck do you know?” AND just super fluffy and angsty and ahhh

Summary: Y/N finds herself in charge of watching Max...except, Max is missing... By the time Billy gets home...the damage is already done. His father had never been an understanding person. Hargrove takes his sister to (begrudgingly) the one person he knows for sure will take them in. Her not-so-secret boyfriend...Steve Harrington. Billy and Steve end up have a..nice, long chat...

Type/Style: Requested, Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Abusive father, violent-beginning, cursing, angst, a protective Billy-goat...

Word Count: 8,800+

a/n: Here it is! Finally!!! :D Thank you all for sticking with me! <3 Coming up are Steve Requests (I did not forget them, do not worry! :) )

It’s a bit longer than I thought...but I figure a topic like this deserves more time to be explained.

I live for Steve & Billy interactions! -- Sorry if this wasn’t what you all expected...I tried to make it as realistic as possible...without making it too long...<3

Next is a Billy fic - one that someone requested, and I’ll be doing it happily!

Sunsets Back Home & Some Steve requests as well! Hopefully getting them all out tomorrow or in the next few days! :D

I hope you like my take on the request! <3

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Y/N hummed to herself, the faint sound of Crazy For You by Madonna filled the hollows of her room. The walls were simple - the same tan coloring that Max’s and Billy’s rooms were. Unlike her brother’s innuendo posters of half-naked women, cars, and motorcycles (all of which, these bare women, were probably riding) - Y/N had band posters and a few (dressed) models scattering her four walls of space.

Her vanity mirror was placed in the corner of her room, across from her small desk. She remembered helping Max with simple things such as straightening her hair or even doing playful-one-time makeovers...(Billy had been dragged into it once...but Y/N had to promise no one would know about it and Max wasn’t allowed to see her big brother look like a complete softcock).

Y/N was sprawled out on her bed; Vogue magazine advertised before her on the sheets as she pondered if she could pull the looks these beauts did. She’d one time asked her brother if she’d be able to make Vogue - to which he responded with a snicker (the ass he was) hell no, Y/N/N. She’d roll her eyes, the running joke being well we’re twins, so looks like you ain’t makin’ it big either, B.

Normally, she and Billy would be hanging out...it was a Thursday night and she and her brother always did something fun on Thursdays (usually that involved just sitting around, swapping music and talking - but sometimes they went for late-night drives or paired up to find a party to crash...and Hargroves knew how to party...that was for sure). Time spent with Billy was time well spent, in her opinion.

But not tonight, he mentioned something about a date (which was code for one-night stand). I’ll be back, kid. Is what he’d told her, stopping by her room on his way out, leaning on her doorframe (like the ‘cool kid he was’, or as she said ‘like the fingerprint leaving asshole he was’). She’d frowned. Where are you going? Billy rolled his eyes, scratching his neck as he lazily watched her from across the way. I got a date. Sighing, she waved him off with a scrunched up nose. That’s fucking disgusting - ew, no! Billy don’t wiggle your eyebrows...get out - get out! Goodbye, Billy! He only laughed, saluting her before he continued down the hall. The thud of the front door and the piercing rev of his engine marking his departure.

She wanted to catch a movie - Back To The Future had come out and she was itching to see it...Y/N supposed she could wait another time. For now, she judged the too-skinny, too-perfect figures and welcomed her radio as a white-noise. Maybe she’d give Steve a call...was he babysitting tonight?

Her door was abruptly slammed open, giving her a heart attack on the spot - her hands fumbling with the booklet. Her y/c/e eyes snapped up, her body shocked rigid as she spotted Neil. Letting out a slow breath, she sat up, Vogue in hand as she fidgeted with the pages.

“You need something, sir?” She asked, remembering Billy who constantly told her to always stay calm, be relaxed, and act as civil as possible (even if he didn’t listen to his own advice...always being arrogant, sarcastic, and short with the man their father was...Do as I say, kid, not as I do).

Neil scanned her room as if searching for an imperfection to bring to light. Y/N only waited in a choked buzz of Bowie’s Let’s Dance, thankful that there was something else sounding off other than her own heartbeat. The tension in the room was suffocating...absolutely terrifying. When he found none, he spoke (she could almost taste his disappointment).

“Me and Susan are going out. You and your brother are going to watch Max,” He was fixing his coat’s collar and Y/N bit her lip for a moment, tapping her pointer on the magazine’s cover.

Clearing her throat, Y/N grabbed his attention,” Billy’s not home.” It felt like playing a game of chicken in the streets...which car was going to pull away first? Or...would there be a brutal accident to deal with? Would one car be worse off than the other? Y/N wasn’t sure who was winning and who was losing, all she knew, was that this game was not fun.

“You’ll be watching Maxine then, got that?” Y/N nodded. Her father raised his eyebrows - waiting for a proper response. Her mouth felt dry. “Yes, sir.”

They were gone after Susan gave a soft wave passing by, her father not giving a second thought of her as he left. The door banging shut behind him. She could breathe again...how did Billy do this? He spoke more to Neil than she did, always taking the initiative into his own hands...time and time again.

Standing up, Y/N forced her legs to work with her after that soul shaker of an interaction. Walking down the hall to Max’s room, she knocked on the door with her right hand; four raps. When there was a heartbeat of silence she wondered if Max heard her. She tried again.

Silence.

“Hey, Riding Hood? You in there?” She asked, bouncing on the balls of her heels as she waited - wanting to finish the section of Tips & Tricks For Flawless Skin - maybe she and Steve could have a spa-day...He happened to like facemasks, believe it or not (but had an odd tendency of eating the cucumbers for your eyes...). The white door was never opened, so she sighed, turning the doorknob herself.

“Hey - Maxie, did you hear me?” Y/N’s words trailed off, crashing to the floor along with her heart. The room was empty. The only sign of recent inhabitance was the open window and the absence of a familiar skateboard...

Running a hand through her hair, Y/N exited the room - calling her little sister’s name as she briskly walked to the kitchen...to the living room...and back to Max’s.

Y/N could feel a creeping terror in her throat and she wondered where Max could’ve gone. Mike’s? El’s? The Byers’? She was back in her own bedroom - pacing the carpet swiftly. The radio had been turned off so she could think and she was listening to the rhythm of blood coursing through her veins like her favorite song.

She didn’t have a car...couldn’t afford it - besides, Billy always took her wherever she needed...Y/N hadn’t needed a car up until this point. Not even when she needed to sneak out...Steve had his own car...a simple park down the block and no one would know who she was with, and where. Saying that...this was bad.

It hadn’t been the first time Max left without as much as a trace... Most times, she was back before anyone knew she was gone...other times...Billy paid for it (He tried his best to keep Y/N’s skin as flawless as Vogue’s stupid lures...he’d joke even with a busted lip that she needed to keep her skin healthy...so she can show their asses up one day!).

But that was when it was the both of them watching her...Billy wasn’t here now, it was eight o’clock...he wouldn’t be back till later...her father would be back in two hours tops - leaving her only one-hundred-twenty minutes to find Mayfield.

She quickly crossed the bedroom - exiting, and walking to the living room. She picked up the house phone and dialed the Wheelers’ number. Y/N was nervously curling the cord around her thumb and index finger, biting her lip as her eyes subconsciously kept flickering to the front door. The other line was dead for some time...she wondered if anyone was home...maybe the kids were caught up playing DnD - but then wouldn’t Karen or Ted answer for them?

There was a slight pause, a seeming hiccup - and then a voice.

“Hello? Who’s calling?” Y/N sighed, thanking her stars.

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler - I was wondering if Max was over, it’s Y/N.” she explained while listening intently (pretending Billy and her didn’t make fun of Karen for flirting with him at the pool...That’s gross, B! -- Yeah, but it’s so funny how easy it is, Y/N!).

“Max? - Oh, the little redhead! No - haven’t seen her-- have you seen my son, by chance?” Y/N sighed, realizing Karen was in a similar situation.

She quickly mumbled a no, I’m sorry, before hanging up and biting at the skin of her cheek. “No need to worry,” she told herself softly,” Call Hopper!”

Long story short, no one picked up. She assumed El was out - probably with the party, God knows where, and Jim was probably down at the station working... The last-ditch effort she had was the Byers’. As she began punching in their house number - she stopped - remembering their phone hadn’t been working for some time...something with the kids accidentally knocking it off the wall - all Y/N knew, was that Steve had warned them not to do it (That’s all you said to stop them, Steve? -- Welll...no...I said a few other things...-- You’re useless, Harrington!) - whatever it was - but they’d done it anyway and...now the Byers’ receiver didn’t work.

Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall entering the kitchen, she saw that she had roughly an hour and thirty-six minutes...that was enough time to walk to the Byers’ and back...right? Riding a bike was out of the question, she didn’t have one and she didn’t have time to just...go buy a brand new bike either...so walking it was.

Billy had always been a good brother. In his own way, he cared (even for Max, who claimed that Hargrove couldn’t give two shits about the air I breathe as long as it's not his). Billy would always look out for both his sisters - in ways they’d never notice. He was subtle like that.

Like the times he’d scare twerps off from bothering the party...it seemed that Hargrove could be rather intimidating - especially if you were a fourteen-year-old who liked to bully his step-sister and her nerdy buds.

Or when Billy would purposefully stay up late - knowing that Y/N was upset, or maybe something was wrong; waiting for her to come knocking on his door at eleven o’clock...asking if he was still awake...

Y/N had learned, through eighteen-years of knowing Billy, he’d always be there for them...no matter what. Support them through hardships, celebrate with them through victories, and holding their hands when they were scared. He may not...always show it...but...he was doing his best - and that’s all anyone ever asked for; could ever ask for.

Y/N had halfway ran, halfway walked to the Byers - tired beyond all hell when she got there, her calfs burning. Knocking on the door obnoxiously, she waited impatiently; how much time had passed? Twenty-five minutes? Thirty-five? She wasn’t sure. It couldn’t have taken long...right?

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang--

The door was yanked open. There stood Joyce, eyes wide and a clear confusion and worry crossing her features as she took in the girl in her doorway. It was just coming nine and she hadn’t been expecting anyone...certainly not Y/N Hargrove.

“Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need something?” The mother asked quickly.

Y/N shook her head, y/c/e eyes desperate as she tugged at her y/c/h locks. “M-Max, I’m looking for Max -- is she here?”

Joyce crossed her arms, shaking her head,” No, sweetie. She left a little while ago - said she was going home.” Thank, God...

“Why did so--,” “Oh, no, ma’am! Don’t worry! I-I was just...I was...I thought she was here...turns out - she’s not...and...and she’s at home.”

Y/N’s happiness slowly melted away as she realized Max was home...alone. Max was home alone.

“I’m s-sorry for bothering you, Joyce! But I can’t stay t-to talk! I-I need to go!”

Running home was not fun. It was not easy. It was not what Y/N wanted to be doing at nine o’clock on a Thursday night. She was sweaty, exhausted, and scared. Y/N was panted hard, her legs screaming, as her street now came into view - date night was always two hours...two hours...she could be home, and act like nothing ever happened...everything would be fine...until it wasn’t.

Her father’s car was parked out front. Slowing beside it, she felt tears well up in her eyes. How long had it been there? When did they get back? Was Max home? Did they realize Max was gone? Did he realize she was gone? Which she Y/N was referring to...Y/N didn’t even know herself...either way; she was still in trouble.

She’d never been so hesitant to open the front door - the porch light wasn’t on - so maybe they weren’t expecting anyone home...but...that was just Y/N trying to comfort her raging nerves. They knew Billy was out; even then, the light was off. Neil never turned it on - claiming it was a waste of money to have it burning all night.

Y/N opened the door. It was unlocked. Had she left it unlocked? She couldn’t remember. Her house keys were in her pockets, but that didn’t mean she necessarily used them in her haste to find Max...

The lights in the house were all off...a good sign...a very good sign (she’d shut them off when she left). That’s how she took the sign anyway. The door clicked shut with a soft sound, and she inched her way down the hall. She checked Max’s room...not having to open the door as she could make out the faint glow (of what she thought to be) Max’s desk lamp casting orange underneath the doorway. Then, Y/N walked past her closed room - to Billy’s...his door was wide open and was empty. It was only nine-forty-three (which she checked while walking back to her room - stopping in the kitchen) and the house was completely still.

She didn’t like how quiet it was...but...maybe that was a good thing.

But didn’t they say; good things never last long?

She turned her doorknob and pushed the opening to reveal her room. The lights were off, save for the tickle of silver moonlight from her window. Stretching a handout, she flicked her light switch on. Her hand shot up to her mouth as she muffled a scream of surprise.

Her father was seated on her bed. He didn’t look happy.

“I-I can e---,” “Max was home alone, Y/N.” his words dug into her, slow and menacing.

“I-I didn’t--,” “I thought I told you to watch her, Y/N?” She felt small...so, so small.

“I-I know, sir - and I-I w--,” “Then tell me, why did I come home, to find your little sister, home alone...” He was standing, and at this moment, Y/N wondered over and over (like every time this happened) how Billy did it.

She couldn’t sell Max out now...if she told him Max had snuck out - Neil might get angry at her...yet, Y/N knew he always blamed the sitter...even if this was the one exception - she wasn’t going to risk it. She’d cover for Max...because...that’s what Billy would do.

“I’m s-sorry, sir.” She whispered, the fear stopping her from crying out like she wanted to do. The fear tore at her, leaving Y/N helpless and stunned like a deer in headlights. Very harsh, powerful headlights.

Neil shook his head, wiping his hand over his face, dragging it along his chin as he watched the girl still frozen in the doorway. “Come here, Y/N.” Her body didn’t move, every sense in her telling her to run...run...run...

“Y/N. Come. Here.” Like a game of Simon Says, not wanting to lose - and the commanding word being Y/N...her feet drug her forward. She stood with an arm’s length between them...but that was all he needed.

Crack.

He’d struck her across the face, her head snapping to the side at the impact. She’d expected it...but...she never could prepare herself for it. She wished Billy was here, he’d know what to do...God, she wished Billy was here...

Her chin was seized roughly, Neil forcing her to look him in the eyes, his free hand clutching her wrist tightly. She bit her lip, trying not to look weak...not to give in.

“I thought we talked about this, Y/N...what did we talk about? What do I tell you and Billy all the time?” He hissed, his fingers digging bruises into her jaw and forearm.

Her eyes welled with tears and she was thankful for the dim lighting, saving her from looking the man in the eyes and seeing the monster that lived under her bed, that ran to her closet whenever she had Billy check for her as he’d done growing up...The monster always showed up when it was most unwanted...

She was thankful Neil couldn’t see her eyes. Y/N’s y/c/e eyes were filled with fear. Filled with anxiety and a stormy glaze that could only describe this; I knew this was coming...she left...but I won’t sell her secret to you...not the devil...no... If she’d learned one thing from her brother - it was that hell was never a pretty place to be...and sometimes, it was closer than you’d think...but despite that - you never made a deal with Lucifer.

“What did we talk about? Answer. Me.” Her arm was splintering in pain, his grasp so firm she wasn’t sure blood could find her fingertips anymore. She’d turn away from him, but he held her jaw so tensely she was scared to breathe.

The number of times their father will drill into them...Respect and responsibility. Until they learned that - until he was satisfied by it - then they could rest easy. But Y/N knew...she knew the devil never played fair. No matter what she did, or what she said - she’d never hold an ace hidden up her sleeve. Not like him.

“R-Respect. A-And responsibility,” she gritted out, her lips barely moving to produce the words. Panic, frustration, and hatred keeping her mouth locked in place.

Another strike to her face, her cheek stung and she could feel the making of a bruise find her nerve ends, but she refused to cry.

“Respect a-and responsibility, sir.” Y/N repeated while trying to pull away from her father.

“Don’t.” His hand holding hers whipped up and then down, throwing her to the floor with an immense thrust. Y/N moved to stand, but a sharp pain to her side had other plans.

It rained down like a hurricane and she could only wish for it to stop. Biting back her pain, she tried protecting her head and neck - Billy taught her that.

“We went over this, Y/N!” He yelled - fists, boots, and words flying as he gave into his anger. She wondered how much her body could take before she gave up. Billy would be strong...Good God...where was Billy?

From the moment she walked in, she could tell Neil had been drinking a little - his breath smelt of dead dreams and alcohol. She assumed it came with dinner...or, for his own enjoyment...it was hard to think while her body rippled with agony.

She tried zoning it out...all of it. The beating, her father, his words...she focused on her brother, Max being safe, the party, Steve...yeah...Harrington had taken her on a lovely date the other night - he’d taken her out to the cinema, and then they’d picked all the kids up for dinner...Y/N had ended up with milkshake on her shirt (thanks to Lucas and Dustin) and Steve had offered her his jacket...it was still a fond memory - the party was like a family to her...a better family she knew than her own kin to be...

She didn’t know when it stopped, or if it would never stop...all she could see were swimming images of whom she loved until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Everything went numb...but...maybe it was better this way.

Billy had just gotten home. It was well past one and he knew for a fact, that Susan and Neil were asleep. They were never up this late - so he’d never have to worry about getting laid in on for being out at an hour like this.

His car parked outside, he entered the house as noiselessly as silence itself. He walked down the hallway hesitantly, but the faint sound of his father’s snoring was enough to ease him to walk normally.

“Y/N? You up?” He was standing at her door. It was cracked open, the lights off. That didn’t mean she was asleep - there had been plenty of times he’d find her awake, just sitting in the dark; listening to a soft hum of her stereo...except the radio had been turned off and the only noise was the lull of night muffled by the house.

He pushed the door open, the dim touch of moonlight having him squint to see her laying on the floor. Billy rolled his eyes. Dumbass probably fell asleep - had she been reading or something again? Nonetheless, he walked over, gently leaning down to pick her up.

She didn’t even react to his arms lifting her; Y/N felt like deadweight - but it didn’t bother him. She seemed tired. He was carefully walking her to the bed, making sure she wouldn’t stir - and she didn’t...and it was now that he questioned if she were a heavy sleeper or not...Billy couldn’t remember.

He settled her down, and when he moved to cover her with the comforter - he noticed something by her nose. It was like a dark line - a streak almost. Billy used the palm of his hand to rub it away. He leaned to the lamp on her nightstand, and when it clicked on, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel his heart in his chest anymore...

Black and blues littered her arms, her face was swollen and an ugly handprint was nestled on her right side, her nose was bleeding, her bottom lip was busted...he was sure if he lifted her shirt - he’d only be met with a terribly splotchy rendition of the night sky.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking hell,” he cursed, touching her shoulder gently - attempting to shake her awake. “Y/N? -- Kid? Wake up, c’mon -- it’s okay now...you’ll be okay now...it’s me...it’s Billy.”

She only groaned, a whimper escaping her at his touch - his hand jerking away like he’d encountered something hot. It seemed everything hurt...

“Y/N - please wake up, I...I need to know...what happened,” Billy knew what happened...but he needed to know how bad it was...she only moaned, a painful noise, swelled eyes not opening. He needed to know if he’d be sending a demon back to the gates of hell right now...he could live with murder...

Damnit. He slammed his hand to the headboard. His anger tickling his neck red as he thought horrible thoughts...he’d kill the bastard, he’d fucking kill him. Billy wanted to yell, he wanted to scream, but he also wanted to cry. Why’d he go out? For some stupid fuck? Why had he left her alone? Why had he left her alone? Why? Why? Why?

He’d left her...it was Thursday, for fuck's sake...it was supposed to be their night...and he’d ditched that for an easy hit and run... Billy felt like a fool. This was all his damn fault. If he’d been here, he could’ve helped her....he...he could’ve done something for her...anything...he’d have been taken the--

The low murmur of his name drew his attention, and he fell down to his knees - grabbing her hand softly in his own. He was shaking. “Y-Y/N -- it’s okay...it’s me...It’s Billy,” the blond repeated, pulling her hand up to touch his cheek, letting her know it was him; the warmth of his skin. His presence heavy as he watched her frail figure.

“H-How was your...d-date?” When she asked him that, Billy almost didn’t know what she was talking about. He shook his head and moved to pick her up - scared by the sounds of someone walking around the house.

“It was shitty,” he grumbled, easily carrying her out the door, out the house, and into his car. Her breathing was troubled - like it hurt to do so...and God, did it hurt BIlly to watch her in so much pain...

“Wh-What’s happening, B?” She asked softly, throat dry, head splitting with pain.

Billy didn’t answer her. Only held her hand as he drove...drove fast down the road.

Steve had been asleep. Why wouldn’t he be? It was one-thirty-one in the morning and it had been a Thursday night. He liked to have stayed up late, talking to his girlfriend on the phone - but Harrington knew Thursdays were reserved for Billy (even if Steve pouted...Y/N never traded those nights for anything). So, instead he figured he’d catch up on well-deserved rest - the kids had been dragging him around recently like a doll and he wasn’t sure how well his body was doing. He didn’t get paid enough - well, he didn’t get paid at all.

To be woken up by a brash hammering, he thought maybe it was just a dream...but then the sound of his name being called - along with Harrington! Get your fucking ass out here or I’ll break this goddamn door down, shithead! - was not a dream.

The brunette was groggy as he trucked down the steps, a pair of plaid boxers covering his lower body with a loose hanging T-shirt adorning his chest. His parents were out of town for work and he had the house all to himself (another reason he wanted to spent the night with Y/N - but it was Billy and her Thursday night...and she religiously scheduled it every week).

“What the hell...?” he groaned, swinging the door open to reveal a blurred figure.

Rubbing his eyes - Steve realized who it was, and suddenly his unstyled hair didn’t seem so important (because yes, he’d thought about fixing it before answering the door...he hadn’t had his priorities figured out yet, okay?! How was he supposed to know the importance?).

“H-Hargrove--,” “Move.” Billy shoved his way into the nice home - heading straight for the living room...carrying Y/N with him like a fragile piece of art. Steve raced to turn the lights on, still not understanding why the Hargroves were here - until he saw the state his girlfriend was in. (He didn’t even have time to think about how Hargrove knew exactly, where he lived...)

“W-What the fuck happened to her?” He asked, crouching down to Y/N’s level, a hand coming up to brush some y/c/h strands from her bruised face.

Billy was quiet for a moment, wiping his forehead with his shirt. “Our father.” That was all he had to say for Steve to understand...he’d been together with Y/N for...well...coming five months? He’d met her in school - fresh out of Cali...the three siblings had been the talk of the small town (especially the supposed party animal and his drop-dead-gorgeous sister).

It was love at first sight - for Harrington at least. He had tried acting cool...but that backfired as soon as he realized just how perfect Y/N was. A pretty smile, sweet laugh, delicious-smelling hair, smooth, sun-kissed skin, and to tie it all together - she came with an overbearing little bow of Billy Hargrove...

He remembered when Billy had shown up at the Byers’ house just last year - asking for his sisters...claiming a little bird told him they were with him; Steve had been trying to persuade the children to calm down and just let the starting team do their job (it hadn’t worked out).

Billy had seen Max’s head peek out and he’d already had Steve on the ground before he could justify himself. I thought I told you to stay away from my sister, Harrington? He’d given Lucas the same treatment...it had only gone downhill from there... Ending with Y/N offering to stay there with Billy for a little while, coming to help them later. She said I can’t leave him here like this...he’s my brother, Harrington... (Steve liked that idea better anyway, kept her away from the trouble).

So, when Steve had finally gotten the courage to ask Y/N out...he hadn’t been surprised when she turned him down. It only had him fight harder to prove his worth and after a torturously slow convincing...she’d finally broken...five months later and counting...and she was still by his side.

Steve had always been a bit of a worry-wart, he couldn’t help it - he watched six headass kids twenty-four-seven...it was in his blood now. “I-I’ll get the first-aid kit,” he quickly mumbled, leaving Billy to stand by his sister - a savage glint in his eyes that Harrington didn’t feel comfortable being around (they weren’t best friends after all, and Steve was sure if Billy had the chance - he’d skin him like a jack-rabbit...).

Returning within seconds, he gently lifted Y/N’s head, her slight hum all he needed to feel more relieved. “H-Hey...how you doing?” He offered weakly, placing her head back down in his lap as he balanced the kit on the armrest.

“B-Billy?” Steve shook his head, pulling a clean cloth to her face, dabbing the blood from her nose. “It’s Steve, hun.”

Y/N’s eyes were barely open, she frowned with a wince. “I’m here, kid...I’m here.” Billy’s gruff tone was enough to have her relax into Harrington’s touch without having to worry for her brother. Steve’s eyebrows furrowing, it made him sick to think she even had to worry about Billy like that.

“Hargrove - you wanna grab something in the freezer for me, like ice or whatever?” Steve asked, eyes focused on the bruises along Y/N’s cheeks. His heart was twisting, all he wanted was to cuddle her and take away all her pain...instead, he resolved on playing nurse for now.

Billy gave a curt nod, his boots fading into the kitchen. Steve took the small moment of isolation to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s forehead. The y/c/h haired girl only looked puzzled after a half-smile tossed in his direction.

Steve was mumbling an apology as he applied disinfectant to her cut forehead, when she spoke,” W-Why am I here?” He was about to ask what she meant - Harrington figured she was here because Billy didn’t like the idea of keeping her in an unsafe environment in the state she was in...when he halted. Hand hovering over her brows.

Why did Billy bring Y/N here? There were so many other places to take her - Steve’s house couldn’t have been his first thought...and yet, as Billy walked back in, ice pack in hand...it felt like it had been.

Hargrove took a seat in the armchair nearest the couch Y/N was laid across, his elbows resting on his knees as he hid his mouth in his hands. Steve was staring at the curly-blond and Billy’s blue eyes dodged up to meet his brown ones.

“What?” Was all Billy charged while leaning back, his hands falling to his lap as he squirmed with the rings on his fingers.

Steve shook his head, breathing nothing, before looking down to his girlfriend. Billy...didn’t know...did he? No...they’d been cautious about it - meticulous and secretive - it’d been the most planning he’d ever done in his entire life...and he’d fought demodogs before...

Sure, Hargrove had the knowledge of mutual friendship between his sister and The Hair - they spent time with the party and so that was expected, being the only teens each other’s age. But, as far as Steve knew; they promised not to tell him...not yet anyway. He’d specifically told Y/N he didn’t care who she dated (it was her life after all) but God forbid it, kid - you better not end up fawning over that shithead, Harrington. No sister of mine is gonna sling it with the ex-King of Hawkins.

The distaste from one another stemmed thick and deep; Hargrove didn’t like Harrington, Harrington didn’t like Hargrove... Hiding their relationship was something that came with dating Hargrove’s beloved sister - Steve didn’t mind (much). He figured Billy would rip him a new one if he ever found out. Probably feed him to the Upside Down...or worse (What’s worse than that, Harrington? -- Being feed to Billy).

There had to be another reason Billy had taken Y/N here...and unless it was brought up in the short conversations of rival men - Steve wasn’t going to give Billy the ammunition to do shoot Steve in his own foot.

“More bruises...?” Y/N grumbled, hands skimming the ghosts of what he assumed were blooming blemishes along her stomach, back, chest...and well... her entire torso...

Steve nodded, licking his lips, his mouth dry as he ran a hand through her hair. It didn’t make him feel so hot to see the love of his life so...broken. He felt useless.

“Take your shirt off, Y/N/N so I can see what we’re dealing with,” Harrington decided, helping her sit up.

“Let it hang around your neck, kid,” Billy’s stern tone cut in, and Steve choked on his spit - Billy had been so quiet he forgot Hargrove was there.

Steve only nodded. He figured it’d be easier than taking it fully off anyway. Billy’s burning gaze didn’t help though - did he think Steve would try something? Wow...makes you feel great...Steve had some decency.

Y/N had difficulties getting her arms through their proper holes; so Steve gingerly helped her - trying not to do it for her, while also trying not to touch her for too long, on top of trying to well....help her. Billy was not making this easy.

Once the T-shirt was around her neck, hanging loosely (a pleased Billy following as it hung covering her chest, presumably what he wanted - only causing Steve to roll his eyes. He wanted to say - You know how many times I’ve seen her naked? Screw that - you know how many times I’ve undressed her? But he didn’t think he’d be safe to do so...).

“Oh, Y/N....” Steve muttered softly, biting his lip as his eyes filled with guilt. Her back was to him, and the litter of blue, black, purple, and yellow was like a child’s poorly done finger-painting. Streaks here and there, uneven and messy. Lifting his left hand, he warily brushed the skin; it was hot...feverish hot.

“I-I know...” she answered with a choked sob, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Billy was looking away from her, his eyes blinking away anger (he wasn’t about to let Harrington’s ass see him cry). “I’ll get more ice.”

Billy stood up swiftly and left the room - a slow string of curses finding him - Steve swore Hargrove thumped a fist to his kitchen counter...was Billy aware how much granite cost?

“Come here, my love,” he whispered, tugging her back into his chest. He swung his leg up to rest on the sofa, bordering where she sat as if his limb were a railing to keep her from falling.

Y/N leaned back, crying softly into his chest (it didn’t help that doing so was causing her abdomen hell). “Shhhh, it’s okay now...I’ve got you, babygirl...I’ve got you.” Y/N found solace in Steve’s words, gripping the thin material of his shirt she listened to the fast beating of his heart...

Bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum...

“I-I’m sorry...y-you have to s-see me like this,” she apologized, which only had Steve sink lower, drawing her as close as humanly possible.

He shook his head against hers as he rested his chin atop her. “No, no, no! Don’t you dare say you’re sorry, darling...this...is not your fault. It never is.” He kissed her hair tenderly and felt his own eyes well up (he refused to cry...he didn’t need Hargrove seeing him as a total softie - and Steve needed to be strong for his girl right now...).

“I-It’s so late-e though...y-you must’ve b-been asl--,” He tilted her head back, hating the way he could almost fit his hand in the same spots as the growing bruises on her jaw. He hated how the print of Neil was still glowing.

He gently shared a kiss with Y/N - forgetting Billy was in the kitchen...he could always deal with that later. She needed to know he was there...really there. Always.

“You, are the most beautiful creature...ever, and I don’t ever want you to say you’re sorry...for-r --,” he paused licking his lips and rubbing his nose to hers,”- for that bastard’s mistakes. You’re too good for that, you don’t deserve that, babygirl.” Steve would never blame her, not for anything. Certainly not this...She was like a flower - a flower that Harrington kept and cherished in his garden of gold.

He took care of it; watering it with hugs and kisses (sometimes drowning her in them...but he found that her particular type thrived on excessive gestures like so). He made sure she was healthy - always getting enough sunlight - making sure she shone that brilliant smile of hers...outdoing any star he’d ever seen...Steve made sure she could always call his garden home...that even if she had nowhere to go - he’d receive her with open, consoling arms.

Steve only hummed softly, Y/N entangled in his arms, their legs entwined as he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her head close to his heart. He whispered sweet nothings and means of okay to her...and eventually, she gave in...Y/N fell asleep there in his arms and he’d never have it any other way.

“God, you’re such a fucking sap, Harrington,” Steve’s neck hairs stood on end - Billy was standing in the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Steve told himself that maybe he hadn’t heard Billy right - or hoped that Billy hadn’t heard him right...

The muscular boy walked over, handing Steve frozen peas, mumbling something about how it’d do better than the lousy packs in Harrington’s freezer.

Steve nodded, moving slowly to take it from the brother - not wanting to disturb Y/N’s sleeping form. He pressed the cold bag to her exposed back, he felt her tense up, before easing back into him.

“She um...she kinda just fell asleep on me,” he explained while avoiding eye contact with the blond. Billy took his original seat - the armchair, but this time, he wasn’t fidgeting or staring at the floor. His blue eyes were fixed on the girl.

Clearing his throat awkwardly - Steve readjusted the bag, he was sure to help sooth these marks it would end up taking more than one bag of frozen veggies to make an impact.

“How long?” Brown eyes flickered up, meeting blue.

“For?” Steve asked confused, though tried to sound as casual as possible. There weren’t very many times he and Hargrove were in one another’s company...this was the first they’d not been at each other’s throats...

Billy rolled his eyes, scratching at his neck. “How long have you been in love with her?” No beating around the bush, it seemed.

“I-I, uh, well,” Steve’s face flushed pink. The soft lighting of the numerous lamps already bathed him in orange...hopefully hiding the blush well enough. His eyes glanced to the clock by the fireplace...two-twenty-seven. God, it’s too fucking early for this bullshit....he’s really gonna do this to me? -- His sister’s half-naked on top of me...passed out -- and he’s really gonna do this to me?

Billy chuckled, though Steve didn’t see amusement reach his eyes...it was almost a forced laugh (like he was mocking Harrington). “You do love her? Don’t you, Harrington?” Steve could only nod, unsure if the answer should be yes or no...he could see both ending terribly as it was.

“God, and here I thought you were more of a man than this, Pretty Boy,” Billy scoffed, shaking his head as he reclined into the cushion of the seat.

“Since I met her,” Steve suddenly mumbled, his eyes set on the slow rise and fall of breath from Y/N. The hand not holding the frozen packet, circling her waist to keep her in place.

Billy observed his movements as if examining an opponent on the court....looking for a bluff, a flaw, a weak advantage. Hargrove thought he found it without having to try...and it was sitting in Steve’s lap - cuddled close to his chest. “Speak up, Harrington.” He grunted.

“The first day I met her,” Steve repeated, his voice steadier than before...louder than before...the sudden wave of confidence was found when he realized...it didn't matter what Billy thought...Steve loved Y/N...and she loved him. That’s all the reassurance he needed, and he remembered it with each breath she took.

“I fell in love when I saw her,” Steve confessed, his voice softening at the memory. “I-I think she was walking to find you, actually - it was after school one day...she’d asked me where the boy’s locker room was,” he chuckled to himself, hand running through her y/c/h locks. “I had been dying to meet these Hargrove twins for weeks now...but...I guess...I’d never had the pleasure of being formally introduced.”

“It...it was like watching a movie. She was walking down the hall, in my direction...and she said hi to me...nothing much. Enough to keep me coming back, y’know?... To want more.” Billy was quiet as Steve spoke, letting him ramble for as long as he wanted - Hargrove was trying to prove a point that he wasn’t sure blockhead could see just yet (that he knew about their relationship but getting Harrington to spill his guts out was even better).

“Then, I remember walking with her - I had to grab my gym bag anyway, and she had the prettiest laugh. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember the feeling of pride...-- Like, I’d done something really good...”

“She said I was nice - she said she liked my hair and - you know, that sent me over the moon,” Steve was laughing softly, trying not to move too much with Y/N’s head rested on his chest.

“I love her, Billy,” he told while glancing the brother’s way - his silence had been a bit mortifying...but Steve didn’t want Hargrove to think he’d actually been terrified to hear what he had to say. “I love her and I know you don’t like it - but...I can’t change how I feel.”

A few minutes passed by, and neither spoke again. Billy had gotten up, exchanging the now thawed peas for a fresh pack of them (mumbling something about the Harringtons’ having too many frozen vegetables). Roughly fifteen minutes of eerie stillness was carried between them - Billy had an arm bent at the elbow, holding his face up. His other hand tapping his jean covered thigh.

Steve was keeping himself occupied with moving the makeshift ice pack around, looking out for missed cuts (which there were a few) and treating them accordingly. Y/N was still propped between his legs, using him as a pillow - her hands rested around his waist peacefully locking him down.

“She loves you a lot, you know.” The suddenness of Billy’s low tone startled the brunette. He had thought that because it’d been quiet for so long...their conversation had long been shut down.

Steve gave a short closed-mouth smile. “You think so?” Harrington asked while shifting the pack to rest on Y/N’s shoulder.

“We have thin walls at home, Harrington. I hear her talking to you for hours on the phone,” Billy noted while shaking his head at the thought. “Did you know our houselines are all connected?” Hargrove was clearly messing with Steve - as if indicating he’d snuck on calls with them...it was a joke...but...coming from Billy - Steve was slow to react.

Steve sighed. “So you know then?” Billy shrugged. “Give or take, I know enough to realize she’s been seeing you for more than a month.”

The curly-blond chuckled. “I know my sister, Harrington. There’s no reason for her to be going on walks a seven o’clock. It’s not like we have a dog.”

“Maybe you’re not as dense as I thought,” Steve jabbed. Billy only grunted in response, not laughing, but not taking too much offense to his words.

Hargrove rolled his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger before saying,” You know - telling me wouldn’t have done anything.”

“You’re saying my head wouldn’t have been on your wall? Like a trophy?” Steve snorted while rolling his eyes,” Yeah - okay.”

“Don’t get pissy with me, Harrington. You’re the one who went behind my back, screwing my sister, amigo.” Billy had him there.

Steve swallowed a sarcastic bite and answered honestly instead,” We were scared you’d not approve--” “Because just doing it anyway helps your case” “--so we just decided to wait till the right moment...” Steve pretended not to hear Billy’s sardonic interruption.

“Was this the moment you were looking for, Harrington?” Billy’s voice didn’t hold its usual arrogant demeanor. He sounded as if he were genuinely trying to talk to Steve. At least there was that much going for Harrington.

“What, you mean at three-am, sitting in my living room - your sister not even conscious for the talk?” he concluded,” No...it wasn’t exactly the ideal moment.” Billy chuckled at that, and Steve joined him. They surely weren’t friends...no...but...they could understand one another and that made all the difference.

“Take care of her, Harrington.”

Billy understood that Steve loved Y/N as much as he did. He cared for her like he did, and only wanted the best for her. Hargrove could see the way Steve looked at her, and it was like she were the only person in the room. The only smile that mattered, the only mind that counted.

Sure, Billy didn’t exactly like Harrington...but he could get over that (for now) because the dipshit somehow made her happy. Steve could make Y/N smile when Billy wasn’t there to do it himself...so he thanked the brunette for that. He thought his sister deserved the world - more than the world really, but if Steve was the only thing the universe had to offer...and that only thing that Y/N wanted from the universe... Billy could understand.

“I will.”

It wasn’t much different for Harrington. He knew that Billy loved Y/N - may be more than he did...they’d always have a bond that Steve would envy. Y/N never stopped talking about her ‘big brother Billy - the coolest guy she knows, the strongest guy she knows, etc’. Steve felt like he knew Billy better than Billy knew...and yet, here they were - sitting roughly half a room apart - the only thing tying them to civility being a girl whom they both loved.

Sure, Steve didn’t exactly like Hargrove...but he could get over that (for now) because he knew no matter what he did or said; Billy would always be her big brother who made her happy. Billy would protect her when Steve couldn’t, and maybe that’s why it was so hard for Billy right now...because he hadn’t been there at all for his sister when she needed him most...and Harrington wondered if it was eating away at Billy’s conscious.

He’d always been so hard to read - whether cross or content - it all looked generally the same (Steve had told Y/N that once and she’d laughed, saying you just had to know the tells...for example when Billy’s nervous - he usually gets antsy and fidgety). Either way, the pain would always be the same... Steve could understand.

“Just because you’re dating my sister - doesn’t make us buddy-buddy, Harrington,” Billy clarified, a wicked half-smirk finding his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes, brushing the hair from Y/N’s face. “I know - it’s not like I’d want to be friends with you anyway...I can only stand one Hargrove at a time.” Before Billy could say anything (he was going to warn Steve that a certain y/c/h haired girl was not asleep...and had been up for quite some time...), Harrington sputtered a sound of shock as he was jabbed in the side.

“Dumbass,” Y/N grumbled, scooting closer to his side.

Steve’s eyes widened and he stumbled to find his words,” Oh - You’re up...how long have you been up...?” His tone was light, and yet - why was his heart racing so fast? She pushed away his hand holding the pack of frosted peas and sat up with a stifled groan. “Long enough, Harrington,” she looked to her brother sheepishly - he returned the simper, Billy was glad the swelling went down - her face almost looked normal again (and Steve was gaping at the fact that Billy was smiling...like genuinely).

Billy began chuckling shaking his head - the waves of relief and security finding him as Y/N seemed..if not okay...she was at least holding up. He was sure shed be in pain for a few days more, the bruises needing some time to heal. Y/N only giggled, wincing at the ache caused by laughter - whoever said it was the best medicine...was a liar.

The little shit she was...she’d been awake for the last ten minutes or so - sleeping with bruises wasn’t easy...he’d know. She was also a terrible actress - while Steve had been talking, busy with cleaning nicks and cuts, Billy had watched how his sister’s face would momentarily contort at the contact of hydrogen peroxide. Billy was very observant, especially when it came to his little sister...he’d have been lying if he said he had never followed Steve’s BMW back to his house before...he was Billy supposed to know where he was taking his baby sister? (Little? -- Billy, we’re the same age! --But you’re way fucking shorter than me, pipsqueak).

Steve was blushing, very confused, but also glad to see Y/N was feeling a bit better. “I was up long enough to hear that...um...Billy....you know...,” she paused eyes drifting to the floor. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier...I think Steve would’ve been in the position I am if we’d told you.” Y/N made a grime gesture to her battered body.

Billy clicked his tongue, standing up to stretch his back and neck. “Nah, he wouldn’t look like that,” his low voice droned out as he began walking towards the door (not before placing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead and gently ruffling her hair). “He’d look much worse if I got to him, kid.”

Steve rolled his eyes, his girlfriend laughing as she pressed a hand, hissing, to her side. That’s what you get for making fun of me, she swore he said that under his breath - the intimation of a smirk creeping on Steve’s sweet lips.

“Where’re you going, B?” Y/N asked while watching her brother reach for the doorknob.

“Home. I’m tired and I have work i--,” “Stay.” Both sets of Hargrove eyes turned to watch Steve with a bewildered manner. Billy gave a huff of amusement, be licked his lips, hand running down the side of his face as he raised an eyebrow at Harrington.

“Come again?” He demanded.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, a small uplift of the corner of his lips sealing his attempt at kindness. “You can stay here - guest bedroom’s upstairs. It’s almost three, man. Just spend the night.”

Billy looked conflicted. Pride and logic always had a hard time understanding one another...a constant battle of the mind. He was so used to doing things on his own...taking Harrington’s charity wasn’t exactly an ego boost.

It bordered his whole issue with having Y/N and Harrington be together in the first place... He’d spent his whole life taking care of himself. Of her. Making sure she was always safe, making sure Y/N never got the worst of it. His father was not a good example of a man, and Billy certainly had his rough edges.

He knew that if anyone were to be with his sister, they’d have to be a man worth her time. First meeting Steve, Billy took him as the same old, same old...playboy wanna-be, who drank too much, partied too often, and flirted too quickly...Steve reminded Billy of himself (not the kind of man he wanted Y/N with).

Over time though...it seemed Steve Harrington was hiding behind a mask. Billy had been skeptical, seeing as good things always came with a sharp end...but...he saw how happy Steve made Y/N...the sincere consideration he put into everything...Harrington had become the only exception.

And still...that battle of pride and logic waged on and Billy wasn’t sure of the generous offer of sleeping at the Harrington estate.

“I can take care of m--,” “I know, I know. You’re a big boy - but...it’s more convenient for you to stay here, Billy.” Y/N cut in, squeezing Steve’s hand in hers as a silent signal of her appreciation. She didn’t want Billy going home...not (without her), anyway. She didn’t care what happened to her - as long as Billy was okay...she knew she couldn’t do much, but if this was what she could grant him - then she’d do everything in her power to keep it that way.

“Harrington.” The soft reply was barely heard, following a thank you in the form of a head-nod, but Steve waved in response. “Y-Yeah, any time man.”

Billy’s footsteps were fleeting and soon enough, they were alone. Steve puffed his cheeks out, eyes wide as he looked down to her. “You’re trouble, you know that?” Y/N scoffed, moving to stand up - she was thirsty and water sounded good (or alcohol...).

“Woah, woah - slow down there, tiger -- let me help you,” he shot up, arm around her waist protectively, hand holding hers as he walked her in the direction she pointed. He easily lifted her to sit on the countertop (even though Y/N complained he was being dramatic).

A cold glass of water was handed to her, their fingers touching through the pass. Steve stood between her legs and hesitantly placed his hands on her hips, unsure of what pain may lie there.

“You scared me, babes,” he admitted while resting his head on her shoulder, one of Y/N’s hands combing through his hair, the other holding her cup. “I did?”

“Mhmmm,” Steve hummed, turning his head to look at her, his brown eyes outlining the purple on her jawline. His muscles tensing at the thought of Neil’s hands on her. “I was scared - why wouldn’t I be?”

Y/N shook her head, not wanting to cry again. She placed her drink down, and cupped Steve’s face, lifting his head up, their foreheads pressed together. She closed her eyes, soaking in the scent of a faint shampoo and gentle body wash.

“I’m here, I’m breathing...I’m okay, Steve.” Her thumb rubbed a small circle on his skin and Steve melted into her touch. His arms holding him up, on either side of her as she sat there.

Steve couldn't hold himself back any longer; he tilted his head up, lips meeting hers. The faint taste of copper lingering between their kiss - but he didn’t mind. His body shifting to have Y/N’s front weighted to his, he kissed her, a hand coming to delicately - hold her tender face in his palm.

“I love you, so much, Y/N,” only pulling from the kiss to speak, Steve laughed wistfully. “Don’t cry, darling...you’re way too pretty to cry.”

Y/N shook her head, her hands falling down to hug his neck, he closed his eyes, rubbing her back instinctively. His face in the crook of her neck.

“You think Billy’s okay with this?” she whispered.

Steve tsked, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, he clicked his tongue,” I’ll give it till eight before he comes searching for my ass.”

a/n footer: I know this may not be what you expected...but...it turned out sweet..no? I personally love Steve & Billy interactions, like...they’re not friends - but...they’ve both got something worth being civil for... I hope you all enjoy! <3

Sunsets Back Home pt. 2 will be out very soon! <3 Along with some Steve requests~

Tagged: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @dazedimagines @danielathedoll @allisjustok @wallflxvver @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @frnchpy @kimmydespell @editsbyjenny @dazedimagines @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @billyhargrovescigarette @krystalane @truthdaze @neverlandsoundsgood @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary @imarockstar145 @foryoubarnes @winchestergirl907 @anniethepanda

Tag list is always open!~

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hargrove reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x reader sibling #billy hargrove #steve harrington x reader angst #max mayfield

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 3 years ago

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A World Full of Bullies, and the Four Kids Who Never Stop Fighting Them

This is a story about my four children and the small town they live in, a story about bullies and the people who stand up to them. Let me start by introducing the four of them. We’ll refer to them as the Sibling Mafia (this will be important later.) Each of them is as unique as the different parts of a harmony. They grew up closer than close. Best friends, siblings, confidants. They have their moments of disagreement, sibling rivalry, chaos. But there doesn’t go a day without them seeking out one another’s opinions and comfort. Theirs is a bond that can’t be replicated, or completely understood. The 17 year old, we’ll call her ‘Red,’ is the only girl in the bunch. She’s an artistic bisexual disaster (her words, not mine,) she’s riddled with equal parts anxiety and hope, and she holds her own like you wouldn’t believe (she’s surrounded by guys in her work, and out does them at every turn.) She’s five-foot-zero inches of kickass and love. And there isn’t a single person who can hold her back when she wants something. She’s had a rough several years, found herself beaten down to her most fractured level. But she fought back with every ounce of strength available to her and clawed her way back to the surface. She’s thriving. She’s scared. She’s dreaming of her future. (Her brothers have so often looked up to her, I think Red often feels like she’s surrounded by puppy dogs who would willingly battle-rush the world if it ever failed her.) The 18 year old boy, we’ll call him ‘Blue,’ has high functioning autism and social communications disorder. The world is full of lines he’s steadily trying to figure out how to cross without changing the flow he relies on. From working in the adult world, to trying to hold on to the childhood he isn’t quite ready to let go of, Blue still manages to find the space and time to be the big brother he’s always been. It’s the most important thing to him. More important than his love for just about anything else. That has always been his choice. There isn’t a single one of his siblings that he doesn’t love ferociously. And though his emotions are sometimes tumultuous, he always finds a way to make what he really feels known to those closest to him.

The 14 year old, we’ll call him ‘Purple,’ is a trans (female to male), bisexual, magnetic ray of absolute fricken sunshine. It’s impossible not to want to know more about him, to laugh with him, to share in his infectious well of joy. There isn’t a mean bone in his body, not a single inch of hatred in his DNA. From the moment he was born, he had a smile on his face. The world was his to make happy. And even though these last few years have been one hell of a confusing ride for him, he’s never stopped looking at the world around him like it’s something he wants to change for the better. The almost-11 year old, we’ll call him ‘Green,’ is a pint sized sarcastic ball of genius who doesn’t see just how important he is to the people around him. His comedy is endless, a shield to protect himself and others from the nastier things life tries to throw. He’s smarter than the average 11 year old, but refuses to jump ahead a grade or two because he ‘just wants to enjoy school.’ And though he likes to pretend that he can handle everything that comes his way, there are times when it’s easy to see how young he truly is. It’s those moments that his siblings are his anchor to an uncertain universe, the chains that keep his gravity from failing him. And they are the epitome of his best friends, his comfort, his home. Red, Blue, Purple and Green have a lot in common. From Red and Purple loving art and music, to Green and Blue loving video games, to all four loving DnD night. They love to adventure together, to share inside jokes, to create beautiful mayhem on a daily basis. They love to learn together, to forget to do their chores together, to ask the world to ‘listen, dammit’ -together. They also have trauma in common. Losses of those they loved, pains they’ve all had to feel, things a parent can’t protect them from... And there is so goddamn much I wish I could have protected them from. When Blue was in middle school, there was a boy, we’ll call him ‘Misunderstood.’ To him, Blue’s autism made him a prime target in the bullying arena. Like some other kids, Misunderstood would say mean things, call Blue names, make him momentarily feel like he would never fit into the world he so desperately wanted to be a part of. But what Misunderstood didn’t know was that Blue had a better world around him already, one that would come to save him when it counted most. One day in gym class, Blue was playing basketball with his friends. He tossed the basketball, and it didn’t quite go where Blue was expecting. It sailed at Misunderstood and hit him in the head. It didn’t matter to Misunderstood that it was an accident. All that mattered was this could be a perfect excuse for retaliation. He closed the distance on Blue and punched him in the head. He knocked him out. But in that same moment, Blue’s friends and sister ran to the rescue. They rallied around him, chased Misunderstood away. Protected their friend and brother, because they knew that was exactly what Blue would have done for them. Because Blue is the sort of person to give a stranger the shirt off his back if they really needed it. Something of which Misunderstood couldn’t see. Imagine my terror when I got a phone call from the police. It was a sobering sight to see police cars and an ambulance when I squealed into the school parking lot. There is no way to explain the feelings of helplessness and fury I was inundated with. You know, logically, that your children will break bones and get stitches and have broken hearts and nightmares and a myriad of other pains that are simply a part of life. And you also know, unfortunately, that bullies exist. You never think that anything like this can happen, until it does, however. That’s not naivete. It’s not denial. It’s the hope that the world might not just be as awful as you think it is. Knowing that world proved that hope wrong, even for a moment, makes you want to wrap your children up in your arms and never let go. But that’s not how life works. There isn’t an excuse for what Misunderstood did. But there are things to understand. I can raise my children to be good, caring, kind people. But I have no say in what happens in other children’s lives. Was Misunderstood being cared for? Did he have parents who gave a shit about him? Or was he neglected? Was he lacking the resources to explain and feel his emotions properly? Was his life hell, and he just needed someone to see? I asked myself those things, trying to understand. I even asked the other adults in charge of the situation. But because Misunderstood was a minor, I had no legal right to know. It turned out, in the end, that Misunderstood was expelled. His parents moved him to a different school district. And Blue was left with the question he always seemed to ask when another child chose him to target: ‘Why me, Mom?’

There is no why. Because, like I said, nothing excuses what happened. What I wanted him to focus on was what happened inside the event. And what happened was loyalty, love, friendship and the coming together of individuals to stand up to a bully. Now, at 18 years old and nearly six feet, Blue still has those friends. And he has the lesson they taught him, not the one that Misunderstood wanted to teach. And he doesn’t ask ‘Why me, Mom?’ anymore. He asks, ‘Why not me?’ as he now steps in when someone needs protection. Most recently, Purple, my 14 year old, has had to face bullying of his own. Purple didn’t come out till a year and a half ago, and the daily progress to being the person he wants to be has been beautiful and brilliant. But there is another boy, who we’ll call ‘Unwarranted,’ who has pulled out all the stops to make Purple feel panic, anxiety, terror. Back when covid was nearly past its first upsweep and all the schools were still closed down, Purple was desperately missing his friends. It was agreed, after a fair deal of hashing out the precautions, that he could see one of his best friends at the park. Purple hadn’t come out yet at that point, still struggling with what it would mean for all the relationships in his life. But the idea of seeing someone who he literally grew up with after being so long apart was too good for him to pass up. They met at the local park, a couple of other friends catching up with them there, and they hung out. It was supposed to be an innocent, happy time for a kid who only ever tried to make people happy. It ended in police involvement and kids being physically hurt. Unwarranted had shown up with two much older kids. But the part he played was entirely his choice as all three terrorized the younger kids, with words and with physical threats that ended with large rocks being thrown. One child was hit in the head. My child was hit in the side. Both of them ended up hurt. All while they were running to Purple’s friend’s house for safety. Unfortunately, there was so little we could do. It didn’t happen on school grounds, so the schools couldn’t be involved. The police couldn’t tell me much more other than they knew who the three bullies were, having been in trouble with the police before. And I couldn’t know anything else because they were minors. To protect my child, I couldn’t let him go to the park alone anymore. I drove him everywhere. I tried to help him forget. And over time, he did. Until the beginning of this school year. Purple started his Freshman year looking for new beginnings. He’d already firmly cemented himself in coming out, was totally authentic in who he is and who he wants to be. His friends are still his friends, completely accepting and loving him. And he tackled his first week of school with intensity and excitement. In the back of my mind, however, I had never forgotten what happened at the park. The mother in me held on to it, because I couldn’t take the risk that something worse could happen. I hadn’t been able to protect or avoid what happened to Blue. But maybe I could protect Purple. I got in contact with the new principal at the high school, explaining the situation and that I did not want Purple to be in any classes with Unwarranted. He vehemently agreed. Purple doesn’t have a single class with him. It’s worked out well. Or it did, until they passed each other in the hall. In that brief moment, when classes were changing and kids were hurrying through the halls, Unwarranted took it upon himself to pick right up where he left off. Except now, Unwarranted isn’t the same size as Purple. He’s over six feet, athletic, and knows how intimidated Purple already was by him. The result was Purple incoherent with fear. There’s a reason I have referred to all four kids together as the Sibling Mafia. Because if you hurt one of them, you hurt all of them. And there’s hell to pay. Red and Blue, who are both Seniors at the high school, heard about the incident almost immediately. (It’s a small town, so small school, and word travels fast.) They didn’t go to their next classes. They took Purple to the office instead, and demanded something be done. They wanted answers and a resolution, and they wanted it fast. I received a phone call about it all from the guidance counselor who was just gushing over the bond they all shared, and the way they’d rallied around Purple. But it wasn’t just Red and Blue who rallied. It was their friends. You see, if you’re friends with one of them, you’re friends with all of them. And in a place like this, it grows exponentially. So many people love Purple, and Red, and Blue, and Green. And it shows. The principal and counselor and school resource officer worked on a plan to keep Purple and Unwarranted from ever crossing paths. It was good. It was a start. Unfortunately, it did nothing for when the kids were walking home from school. Because Unwarranted decided to make prodding and inappropriate comments while walking behind him. Only, this time Blue and his best friend, we’ll call him ‘Orange,’ and two of Purple’s friends were there to do something about it. Because Unwarranted had a lot to say when he knew Purple was too scared to retaliate. (Red was with a friend, but was furious when she found out.) But being faced with the reality of a whole group who were more than capable of protecting Purple made him back right off. No fists were thrown. No one got hurt. And everyone made it home safely.

And Purple came to me, despite his fear and wariness, to ask... ‘What if something is wrong with Unwarranted? What if something happened at home to make him act this way? Maybe we can help...’ My response was to breathe. To stare at this kid of mine, because the compassion in those words made my heart hurt. Here was this boy who was obviously being terrorized by someone else, and all he could think about was making sure that bully was okay? I told Purple, ‘You have no idea how amazing your heart is.’ I told him, ‘I don’t know what might be going on with Unwarranted. And it’s wonderful of you to want to help. But you also have the right to be safe, whether you’re in school or walking on the streets. You have the right to have a happy learning experience without fear of being cornered in the hallways. For now, as much as I know you want to figure it all out, my priority is making sure that you are safe.’ He nodded, hugged me, and went about his day.

I read somewhere once that bullies are predators. They will go after what appears to them to be the weakest prey. Trying to stop a bully by teaching a child to stand up to them is like teaching the weakest gazelle to be stronger. The predator will not stop going after the weakest prey, it will only stop going after that target. But what if that target was never weak to begin with? Purple may not have the physical attributes of a football player or a wrestler. But he’s got something even better. He’s a wolf with a pack who would be lesser without his knowledge and love. And there’s nothing that pack wouldn’t do to protect him, just like there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make their lives better. The Sibling Mafia extends beyond blood, it seems. Now you might be wondering, where’s the almost-11 year old Green in all this? Green came into the first three’s lives when Purple was a little under three years old. At that point, they were already bonded and closer than I could have ever imagined. But the second Green’s little wiggly self came home, the change was immediate and overwhelming. Not in a bad way, not even remotely. You see, that bond transformed. It grew, it solidified, it settled into a whole new identity. It somehow made them far more whole than any of us realized they could be. Because all three older kids had lessons to teach and love to give, and with Green they could do all that together. Without any encouragement from me, because kids don’t need to be raising other kids, Green grew up being the literal center of their world. And they all loved each other more because of it. Green is just a little guy. He’s small and skinny and scrappy, full of wit and genius that often leaves the rest of us wondering where he got it from. He looks at his siblings like he wants to give them the universe. And he goes through life like he might just give it a reason to wise up to the possibility of goodness if it tries hard enough. Nothing holds him down for long. Events, losses, physical injury. He bounces back so fast that the rest of us get whiplash.

But what happens when an event causes loss and physical injury at the same time?

Just this past week, the kids were walking home from school. Red has Senior release, which allows her to get out of school early most days. So it was just Blue, Purple and Green, walking with their friend Orange. In the past, there have been bullies. Two of which I have mentioned. But some never made it to the ‘something we really have to worry about’ stage. One of these bullies, particular to Blue, decided it was time to graduate to that stage in a very dangerous way. We’ll call him, ‘Mistake.’ Because what he chose to do was a big mistake on his part. The kids had made it to just before the opening of our neighborhood. They were on the sidewalk. They’d been carefree, joking, laughing, talking, when a vehicle suddenly sped its way toward them on the road. The vehicle had a passenger and a driver: Mistake. And as Mistake accelerated, one of them threw a full bottle of Powerade out the window as hard as he could. We’re fairly certain he was aiming for Blue.

It hit Green instead. At that speed, with that much force, something as innocuous as a bottle of liquid can do real damage. It was only sheer luck that it hit Green in the leg. If it had hit him in the head, we’d all be sitting in a hospital room right now keeping vigil. That being said, Green is small. He’s skinny. The impact to his leg was enough to damage the muscles in his thigh. You can see the impact point, a literal imprint of the bottle on his skin. The bruising is very clear. The recovery will be slow. The first thing Green did was cling to Purple. Orange and Blue yelled after the car, but it had sped quickly away. The boys managed to get Green home right away. I had been working at my computer. And the next thing I knew, Green is in my arms, incoherent and in pain, crying so hard his whole body was shaking. Calling the police was an easy decision. Trying to hide my instant and unbridled rage was so much harder. The police are treating this as assault on a minor. The bottle was collected as evidence. Green was evaluated by physicians and will thankfully make a full physical recovery. But the emotional damage seems to be much worse. Green is not himself. He’s clingy, he’s worried, he’s having nightmares. He doesn’t want to walk home anymore, even knowing his brothers and Orange are there to protect him. His birthday is barely a week away, and he is trying so hard to be enthusiastic about it. But the bruise and pain in his leg keep offering reminders. The idea of leaving school grounds without one of his siblings or me makes him panic. And the light of innocence in his eyes is that much duller.

It was a senseless, useless act. One that’s rattled us all.

Blue and Purple are blaming themselves, as though they should have been able to see it coming and protect Green. Red is angry that she didn’t just wait to walk with them, as though her being there would have stopped it altogether. Their grandparents, friends, teachers, counselors, and even random people I have never heard of are all up in arms. They want someone to pay. I think Green just wants to pretend it never happened at all.

To be honest, I want Mistake to pay, too. Because it doesn’t matter who he was aiming at, this was clearly assault. Clearly intended to do harm. And I’m tired of feeling like I can’t protect my children. When did the world become so cruel? When did parents stop teaching their children that kindness is not a weakness? When will I ever feel okay with sending my children out into such an unforgiving world? I know I’m angry. In fact, I’m enraged. But... I also still have hope. Green’s birthday is steadily approaching. The kids are doing everything they can think of to make him smile again, make him laugh, prove he’s loved and, most of all, safe. They’re using their hard earned money to get him gifts, to surprise him with a puppy they’re buying themselves, to give him his normalcy back. And I’m watching them hold on to each other through it all. Like they always have. Like, I hope, that they always will. The future is coming at them quickly. Red, Blue and Orange want to get an apartment together after high school. Purple and Green have decided they want to live together forever. And they’ve all decided that they have to make time, once a week or more, to be back under one roof. We live in a small town, but they’re going to move on outside of it. Because the world outside of it is big, and they are well aware of that fact. They want to tackle it in their own way, individually and together. They want to see where this life takes them, no matter what tries to stop them. And they want to share that journey with each other, and with anyone who wants to be a part of it. I never could have predicted how close those four amazing kids would become, or how much they’ve already changed the world just by being who they are. They’re my hope, you see. In a world where anyone can be cruel, they choose to be kind. They choose to be the example by which everyone around them learns what kindness is. Misunderstood, Unwarranted, and Mistake are learning about kindness, too. Whether they realize it or not. Because in their misunderstood existence, in their unwarranted actions, in their irreversible mistakes, the kindness of the Sibling Mafia seems to be far more powerful. This is a story about a world full of bullies and the four kids who never stop fighting them. One act of love, kindness, and hope at a time...

#bullying #hope #together #siblings #the world isn't as bad as it seems #parenting #children #kindness #this is worth the read #i promise

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matt-skc-rp · 3 years ago

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Summer Heat Wave|| Swiftimer AU Drabble

A/N: Shout out to my girl @suzydoozy, who's been working really hard all summer so I decided to surprise her with a drabble I wrote in the morning. Love you, boo! Keep going you got this!

Matt woke up early and flinched slightly at the cat Mochi sleeping on his chest. He gently moves the feline and slinks out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to get his bearings and sneak a cigarette. Suzy's phone was still going off, although she was dead asleep from their late night. He creeped over and turned her phone off, which caused the girl to stir, putting a reassuring hand on her back and rubbing it, receiving a sleepy groan in response. He looks down and sees her notifications (even though he shouldn't) to see that Arin had called her and texted her all night. Her DND must turn off in the mornings.

He didn't pay it any mind anymore.

The two had been hooking up since the end of the last semester and she begged him to make sure nobody knew. It wasn't like Matt was in a relationship himself, but she even instructed him not to tell Kristen, which was different. He told her everything, even if it was nothing going on. Those planned occasions when they would go to a fancy restaurant and just spill the tea on their respective houses and plan their next attack on how to keep the campus as aesthetically pleasing as possible. It started so innocent: Suzy had been up late and wanted to stream a scary game, but didn't want to be alone. Arin was busy- well she thought he was busy because he wasn't answering his phone at all- and the girl thumbed over the other's contact, thinking that she might reneg and just ask her ex-roommate from Theta instead. But no. A few very brief messages later he showed up to Gamma, his lanky frame in his OG Twitch hoodie and some black jean shorts.

They sat together day after day playing games, eating, and just hanging out- their platonic touches falling away innocently for the thrill of fun and companionship. That's what they told each other. She remembered how she felt the day that she was standing in Theta with his hoodie draped over her and nothing much else, feeling more comfortable with him than Arin but not by much. She knew it was for the moment. She knew it was temporary. Matt is just so sweet and at times a little hard to figure out, but she really felt at home. She still doesn't remember what exactly got them to their lips touching in the still kitchen, the light from the windows shining on them. He had walked away that day.

Now she was sleeping in his bed, wearing his t-shirt with nothing on, fully satisfied after yet another late romp. Every morning she woke up in his room, she reveled in the smells of smoke and herbal air freshener. That gentle hand on her back as she stirred awake, his way of coaxing her to sleep in. He's so polite. He really cares even though he's not anything. Maybe that's what makes all of this so hard for her but so easy to fall into. She heard her phone ring and then stop, then the hand on her back, a light press of lips in her hair. She slept in her makeup again, but she couldn't help not caring about how she looked around the man. The girl stretched in the bed, moaning as Mochi stretched with her and climbed into her lap once she sat up. The girl pet and gave love to her kitty as she refused to look at her phone.

"You want breakfast?" Matt asked, closing the window but not shutting it as he put the butt in the ashtray. Suzy shakes her head as Mochi runs off to chase the shadow of the trees on the window, making the girl giggle lightly. "You wanna talk?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck before stretching himself.

"What happened with you and Gabbie?" she asked simply, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

"Eh, I mean we're still going, but she's just taking a lot of different directions. She went home before finals ended. Why?" he said, picking up his extra clothes from the floor before starting his pushups.

"Just curious..." she said, watching him and moving to the edge of the bed to see better.

"If you're wondering if I'm cheating, technically I am, but Gabbie isn't exactly in the headspace to worry about me right now, I'm actually glad I get a break from trying to understand somebody," he said with grunts as he pounded out each one, "I mean we're not super serious according to her, so I don't see the harm in test driving a few other ideas while she's not here."

"So...if she came back and wanted a relationship.." she started.

"I ask her if she's sure..then I'd be all for it. I still really like her, but I'm not running to go and be cuffed up since cuffing season is approaching, you know?" he replied.

"Wh-what would happen then?" she asked, playing with the helm of the t-shirt.

"What's with the questions?" he said, standing up and sitting on his knees after taking a breath.

"I dunno...guilt I guess," she said.

"You have nothing to be guilty about, at least I don't think so...Same with you, I'm not worried-"

"So what is this?" she blurts.

"What?" he asked after choking on his water, "What is what?"

"You know...this," she gesticulates, thrusting her hand back and forth.

"Fling. It's a summer fling. They're really popular this time of the year...Why are you so worried about it? Aren't you excited to have him to go back to?" he asked, sitting down in front of her.

"I mean...yeah, but..I really like the fling..I'm just saying," she began, not really sure how to finish.

"You can like the fling, but it's a fling. It's gonna end..and we'll go back to being friends or complete strangers, but I think that's the difficult part of that," he says, taking her hands, "For me, at least."

"Oh...well, do your planks," she giggled lightly, deflecting her feelings.

~~~

Suzy bit her lip, clicking through her chat and switching tabs to make sure OBS was recording, watching chat start just to roll in, she greeted her stream. It was supposed to be just a typical night for her. Some games, some ideas, some editing then she was going to bed.

Matt stood impatiently, checking around to see if anyone can see him, still checking his phone to make sure he wasn't getting any calls from his sister especially.

They embraced how they usually do, but tonight Suzy didn't let go. "Heyy, what's up?"

"N-Nothing..I just..I guessed I missed you," Suzy said, trying to hide the red flushing her cheeks. She backed away and showed him to her room. She walked on her tiptoes through the hall, hearing the faint noises of the other gamers in the house before getting to her door, decorated with cheap Halloween decorations with a little work done to make them scarier and aesthetically pleasing.

Matt shrugged off her response and followed behind her until they were at her door, the one with Halloween on it no matter the time of the year. He liked all the little things that were different about her, but still reminded him of Gabbie, like their love for dark themes. Suzy still was acting weird to him, but he passed it off as some hormonal thing or a mental episode and she just needed the company. He had just seen her a few days ago and she wasn't like this, but he never really took the time to know why she was even at the school in the first place save for a few traumatic experiences she shared that they bonded over.

Once they were in the room, Matt broke the silence, "Com'ere," he muttered, pulling her gently by the hand, which she allowed herself to turn around and shuffle towards the taller man, he picked her head up and gave a soft peck on her lips, wrapping his arms around her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing-I...I dunno. I usually know," Suzy explained softly, not wanting to break the sound barrier of his embrace, "I barely made it through the stream..I guess I've been working too much."

"Maybe you need something to take your mind off..hm?...But I saw your stream, you did great despite how you felt," he said, pushing her hair from her eyes and lifted her head up by her chin. Suzy was already feeling better with the kiss, but the way he just cradles her and makes her feel like a little girl who just scraped her knee. She wanted him to buy her ice cream to match his sweetness.

"Were you busy? Is your sister gonna call tonight?" she asked, shifting her feet underneath.

"No..I told her I had a long night of editing to do from that road trip that I totally lied about. I'll tell her tomorrow that the files were corrupted..you know...stupid stuff just to get away from my phone...I wasn't doing anything when you called me," he replied, scoffing lightly with a smirk shifting with her. Maybe it was this that she missed: idle dumb conversation about how their lives were. Not planning how they were going to approach their fling with the utmost clandestine. "The real question is..why didn't you call Arin?" he asked, wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

"Wasn't picking up, and he isn't in his room, so I guess he's at a Grump session or he's playing games with his friends...but I guess you'll do," she joked, finally cracking a smirk.

"Sounds good to me, that's literally what I'm here for," he said at a regular volume, "It's just a matter of what we're gonna do now...feeling sexy? You want me to make you something to eat? To drink?"

Suzy looked up when he asked if she was feeling sexy, it rang in her ears that it would be the perfect distraction. She had ignored her thoughts all day and did everything she could to push the idea away in order to get more important things done and to just act like she was a developed person who could function without it. Guess she was wrong. "I-I do...feel..like I could use some..uhh..attention I guess..see how I feel.."

"Well...what do'ya want? Ball's in your court," he said, surprised that her first choice was sex, but he was the fling, of course they can have sex. That's the whole point. He was willing to do more, but maybe he needed to get some clarity and figure it out later. He let her go, kicking off his shoes and setting them by hers by the door, and sheds his jacket, setting it on her gaming chair before approaching her again.

"Uhh...I guess just the usual, just like...I dunno...go slower?" Suzy said, rubbing her arms and holding herself. Matt was confused and didn't feel the most comfortable. He took to grabbing her hand gently, kissing her fingers, which she quickly pulled back and made her giggle. She loved that when she asked him to go slow, it didn't dampen the mood at all.

"Take your clothes off...." he said after he pulled her into a hug, sliding his hands under her sweatshirt to help.

Suzy was already feeling better about having Matt over, even if the feelings weren't going away. His lips on her bare skin brought her goosebumps, drawing a soft hum from her throat. His hands caressing her waist to help her take her shorts off.

Once they fell to the floor, Suzy turned around to hide her front against his naked top and rough shorts. She liked looking up at him and seeing those kind eyes, ones that just felt like home away from home. His large beard that she had gotten lost in on many lazy afternoons, and probably would do it tonight if she had time.

She was focusing on his hands, where they would go next, how they would carry her into a descent to a place much more lovely and sweet- a place she was used to. She shuffled backwards, never breaking eye contact until she fell back onto her bed.

Matt grabbed a random pillow on her bed, stuffing it beneath his knees as he looked down at a blushing and anxious Suzy. He sat in his knees, still towering over her and gave her thighs a soft kneading rub down. He loved when she would relax into his touch and consumed every tentative noise she made. He wasted no time and adjusted his body lower, giving her flower cute long kisses before slowly nipping her thighs, bringing a satisfied him from her.

Suzy's legs were trembling as he massaged them, her mind still racing about Arin and Matt's hands and whether or not she fed Mochi. She felt his fingers pushing and curling so steadily and careful she felt so dirty and so free. Her hands didn't rush to grip anything just yet, she just laid her head back, letting her staggered breath and noises slip from her lips. His mouth moving just as slow on her folds made her jump a little, which she prompted him not to stop. She could feel her thoughts beginning to cloud as she thought of the first time he did this. The girl was a whole mess. She's learned to enjoy these moments. Nothing was stopping her now. The way he just knew to speed up just enough to bring her to the next level of her pleasure made Suzy wish she could live in the moment for a few days. Her legs open and seemingly small in Matt's hands, her flower wet and exposed, twitching at the outside stimulation. She was thinking of his kisses on her lips those days and nights when there wasn't much to do. The fireworks they watched and accidentally made out under. The way she came for him after an OnlyFans shoot and they laughed it off over lunch. The girl let out a long greedy moan, which caused him to change what his tongue was doing, sending her. She wanted to close her legs, her knees rising as he found the right spot and the perfect tempo. Her arousal becoming almost too much, she felt exposed s though they were being too loud in the library. She covered her mouth, feeling the pressure build and an orgasm on the horizon. He pushed her legs apart by moving up and looping his arm around one, and resting it on his shoulder, going back to his teasing now that she was locked in place. No turning back. Matt was always so focused- "once I start, I don't like stopping...I just want to warn you.. but let me know if you need a break or anything.."- he was so gentle and kind. She hadn't felt so seen, and cared after, as to say Arin didn't do his best all of the time. "Make me cum~" She whined, running her hand through his hair, "I'm ready..."

"You know that's not how you ask, but you look so good right now... so I'll give you a pass..." he brought his head up to say, thumbing over her swollen clit while he watched her plead from the slight edging. He smirked at her as he coaxed another edge. He enjoyed watching her writhe against his hold as though she might explode or fly away if he didn't have her. Suzy was spilling from the mouth after the seventh edge, begging and pleading to cum. It's the longest she's lasted since he introduced her to the idea. Ever since the first photoshoot he helped out for that had a happy ending like this one, Matt had been helping her to have better control over her sex. Giving her what she asked for and teaching her a few things along the way. She liked to say he owned her pussy for having such a keen idea on what she needs, but he always said that it's more like satisfying a girlfriend's family, and the pussy is the sister or the mother. He retracted his fingers making it the hardest edge yet, and stood up, wiping his hand on her bed, promoting her to get up by tapping her thigh. "Get into your favorite position," he said, taking his pants off in one go and avoided touching his bouncing cock. He watched as the girl got up slow, getting on her knees and reached out for his hand, which he took hers and moved him behind her, leaning back and letting him do the rest of the work of pushing in.

"Don't touch me anymore.." she started timidly, "Just choke me until I tap out...please.."

"You sure?" He asks, giving light thrusts to get her used to the size, holding her waist and kissing her neck and shoulder as he found a rhythm.

"Yes baby...I need you to make me cum as hard as I can..." she mentioned between slutty moans as he steadily raised his speed, creeping a hand between her breasts and gripping her throat just hard enough to limit airflow and allow her to talk. The girl became a need of loud moans and soft screams as her orgasms run through her body. Suzy burst with pleasure, Matt not halting his thrusts as he was instructed, her eyes rolling back as the results of Matt's hard work ran down her leg and splashed against the bed. Her embarrassment crept up as she tapped his hand gripping her neck and he released, allowing her to try and close her legs although she was still getting pounded with both of his hands on her thighs to keep her from falling. Her moans changed as he finally got her spot dead on and begged him not to stop, another orgasm washing over her.

"You like cumming like this don't you?" He asked, his voice gruff as he was nearing his own orgasm.

"Yes, yes I do... fuck I-I think I'm gonna cum again~" She gasped.

"That's right baby... cum for me... you're doing so good... you want me to cum too?" He asked already feeling it coming on.

"Fuck, fuck just cum fuck... please cum for me baby~," she moaned quickly.

Matt gripped her hips tighter as his orgasm rose and bubbled over, hearing Suzy's crying out, falling against his body and stroked slower until he was strong enough to pull away and allow both of them to fall back into bed, Suzy immediately cuddling up to him out of breath. They both shared a tired giggle fit before Mochi came up and rested on the foot of the bed mere inches away from the wet spot on the bed beneath their feet.

"Oh my god, Matt~... look what you made me do~"Suzy said, looking down.

"I ain't doing nothing, you were wet like that when I got here," he joked, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head, "You held out longer this time... you should call me to fix your attitude more."

"I don't think that's a good idea...I don't think I could do that everyday," she laughed.

"I bet you could... keep practicing like you have been," Matt said, shifting to sit up.

"I can't... everybody would notice-"

"Notice that you're in a better mood... you don't owe anyone an explanation..." he explained.

"I-i guess you're right.. but I just..I guess I'm self conscious about that... aren't you gonna smoke?" Suzy asked.

"Not in your room.. remember?" He replied, "Too much of a giveaway.."

"What are you gonna do after this?" She asked, tracing his chest.

"Eat something and get some sleep... figured I wasn't gonna stay long when you called me over... and speaking of calls...I think your phone rang while we were busy."

Suzy hadn't even given her phone a thought since Matt came through the door. She used her trembling legs to go to her desk and see that it was a missed call. From Arin. He left her a message and texted her that he was outside her door. Her heart sank into her chest. She felt so exposed and disgusting for letting him down.

[Text: ARIN] I HEAR SOMETHING STRANGE COMING FROM YOUR ROOM 👀👀👀

[Text: ARIN] Uhhh i think you're watching porn ill come back later lol

[Text: ARIN] Sorry for not getting back to you sooner I guess

[Text: ARIN] Have a good night, lovely! 🥰

"What's wrong?" Matt asked, trying to respectfully stare at her back, "Arin try to come by?"

"Yeah..." Suzy sighed as she still tried to figure out how to feel about nearly getting caught. It was more of the rush, the thrill of knowing he was being cucked and he didn't know it. And if she was going to compare experience, Matt had Arin beat for right now. Her mind danced about with the idea that although Arin was familiar and reminded her exactly of home, Matt made this place. This place was filled with their memories and every touch and sound that littered their dorm walls. His southern ways and the way he keeps to himself yet remains so kind and happy. She felt like he was a nice little treat she found while having another treat: Shawna. These thoughts and memories of Matt made it hard for her to concentrate on her work, and his touch made her melt faster than an ice cube in an oven.

"Yeah? Did you need to talk to him?" Matt asked, scratching his neckbeard, then smoothing it out.

"Pfft! No. He thinks i was watching porn-"

"You?.. watching porn?.. at full volume?" He asked, trying not to laugh as he put his boxers on, standing up and handing Suzy her shorts.

"I'm the only girl here. Of course, they think I'd be watching porn at full volume.. to them I'm always in my room or I'm doing something for someone else..or I'm going to class.. but since this whole lockdown and the moving, nobody's sure," she explained.

Matt understood and walked up with her shorts, "One thing I'm sure of is that it's past curfew and the doors are locked... so I can't get out until the morning," he looked at the stream setup on her desk and played with her keyboard, accidentally waking up the desktop.

Suzy took her shorts and slid them on, then realized something, "Matt."

"Yes, darling?"

He killed her when he said that. He was so cool and sexy with his words, it matched his touch.

"Where are my panties?" She asked biting her lip, she turned to him.

"Answer my question first," he replied with a dark smirk, "You on birth control?"

"I'm fine...I take care of all of that, so just know before you get here, there's a lot of work being done to keep me safe," she said proudly.

"Safe and not pregnant are two different things at this school. Yeah nobody's passing around chlamydia, but girls do get pregnant around here... that's what I was told," Matt said wrapping his arms around her exposed midsection and rocking her back and forth. Suzy was so welcoming to the touch but it made her nervous that he was trying to lead onto something. He wasn't suggesting that she gets pregnant, but that he's noticed it hasn't been a concern for her.

"You believe everyone who tells you something? Especially here?" She leaned against him, absorbing his scent.

"Not always but I feel like you getting pregnant would draw a lot of attention to you that you're not ready for-"

"I'm not stupid, Matt. I may be sick sometimes, but I wouldn't risk everything because I didn't take my pill," she bit back, she didn't mean to be so aggressive, but he gave her confidence she never knew she had, "I should make you shower for coming in from the outside, putting me at risk like this."

"Oh trust me, I have condoms, but you've never brought it up and you told me yourself you're not quite worried..I just never asked what you were doing on your end," Matt said kissing her neck.

It did surprise her how this little funny fake fight to so long to happen. The fact that he was able to bring her to reality, without ruining anything. The kisses on her neck gave her goosebumps, and she could feel his hands hold her waist, then turn her around as she placed her phone back on her desk. She faced him and allowed herself to be pulled into another kiss before he walked away, and she just wanted to pull him back in.

"Answer my question," Suzy said, trying to keep her composure.

"Ask away sweetheart," he said, grabbing his phone to answer a text message.

"Where did my panties go?" she asked again, "I remember having them when we started and they seem to have not only disappeared...they're not even in the place that they originally were."

"You want them back? Why do you want them so badly?" Matt asked.

Suzy thought for a second, "What? I need to earn them back?" she couldn't help the smirk on her lips.

"You might have to, but you can just ask me much nicer than that...I like how you look with no panties- is that a crime?" Matt mentioned, finding the remote and turning the TV on.

"No, but they are mine..and I don't want to find them tomorrow after you leave," Suzy said, "They belong in a hamper."

"If you crawl up here and ask as nicely as you can, then I'll tell you."

Suzy folded her arms and pouted, "I gotta suck your dick too?"

"Nope. Just ask me. I think we're past the sex portion of my visit," Matt grinned, throwing his hands behind his head, "Come on, you can do it.."

Suzy sighed as she trying not to laugh. He was a goofball when he wanted to be, and it was always so much fun to indulge. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed, straddling his legs, and did a sultry crawl up his lanky body, feeling his eyes following her. She didn't break eye contact and was feeling so dirty as he devoured her figure. "Matthew," she asked with a much lighter and cuter voice.

"Yes, pumpkin?" he asked, cupping a hand on her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Can I please have my panties back...sir?" she sat up on her knees.

Matt smirked, trying not to laugh at how committed they were to their jokes and fun. He took in her body before him, every curve softened by the low stream lights in the room. Her aesthetic made him want to take pictures and short clips of her movements. He wanted to study her as a muse. He bit his lip as he gave her one more glance, "They're under the bed, in one of your shoes..I think it's your chucks."

The girl sat back with a look of disbelief, "Seriously?..How'd they get in there?" she dropped her voice act and sat on his legs.

"I put them there. You're too busy getting head to watch me stuff them in there..but then I stuffed you so I think it's even-"

"That is not even!" she laughed, pushing his chest playfully.

"You don't think so?" he laughed back.

"No~ you're not allowed to use sex as a veil of mischief. That's super sneaky.."

"I was in here- you snuck me in here- right? Your dude comes looking for you and he thinks you're watching porn..and you're gonna let him believe that and you're telling me that I'm sneaky..you have no grounds to tell me that I'm being sneaky. I'm trapped here until morning because of you-"

"Well the window's right there! You're welcome to leave anytime you want," Suzy said, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it.

"Ah~ now you're abusing me..get off me!" Matt tried to dodge her strike but took the soft hit.

"No I will not get off you," Suzy said, "Not until you take it back."

"You can ride my dick, I'm not taking it back..I call them like I see them," Matt folded his arms.

"In your dreams, Matthew Brian," she said, "You're sneaky too."

"I'm only sneaky because everyone in this house wants my head on a spit. You just want extra attention," Matt said, placing his hands on her thighs, which sent a shock through her, "Such a shame, too..You're already not wearing panties-"

"Because you told me to take them off!"

"Because you sent me a text."

"That's not important. If you were doing anything you would have come over anyway."

"I'll come over for you," he said sweetly. Suzy's heart couldn't handle him sometimes and cursed him for being so sweet and just being a general-

"You're a boob," she said trying to contain her big smile and a blush.

"Aww I think someone liked what I said~" he teased her.

"It's not..what you said..It's how you said it..." she whined.

#matt #suzy #for tatyln #with love

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stanbillyhargrove · 4 years ago

Text

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 23: I Can See The Pain In Your Eyes

Billy’s POV

Steve and I eventually made our way back into the house to find Cat curled into the corner of the couch, a steaming mug between her hands. Her eyes looked red and glazed as she stared into the mug and I took note of the plate in front of her. Steve must have brought her a pancake before coming outside. I swallowed thickly when I got closer and noticed that a couple bites of it was gone.

I knelt in front of her, placed my hands on her knees and whispered, “thank you.”

Cat closed her eyes and leaned forward to press her forehead against mine.

“You okay? You feel warm, do you want to go back to sleep?”

She hummed and nodded her head, slumping against me a bit.

“Okay, Baby,” I soothed.

I gentled the cup from her hands and placed it on the table before laying across the couch and pulled her between my legs to rest her head on my chest. She settled into me, humming softly as I ran my hand lazily up and down her arm.

Steve settled into the chair, wiping his face with a sigh, “fucking tired.”

I nodded, idly drumming my fingers on Cat’s arm. Eventually the room was filled with their soft breathing as Cat and Steve fell asleep. My mind was racing though and I couldn’t relax, I just wanted to leave, drive too fast and find something to put my fists through. My whole body thrummed with an energy that I couldn’t shake. When I couldn’t stand it anymore I carefully slid Cat off me and left her sleeping on the couch to pace the kitchen, debating leaving. Cat would be fine here with Steve, would probably be better for her to have Steve’s patience, his kindness. I looked outside and saw Rocky laying in the snow, looking bored as he stared at the house. With a huff, I decided to go outside to grab him.

“Come on, Bud,” I mumbled, clipping a leash to his collar.

I walked around the house and out of the driveway, Rocky dancing excitedly beside my legs. Once we were down the street a bit I picked up the pace, eventually running as fast as I could through the streets. The burning in my legs and lungs distracted me from thinking about what was waiting for me back at Steve’s.

When I returned to the house a couple hours later, I was covered in sweat and gasping desperately for breath.

It didn't matter how fast I ran, or how far. Once I stopped, the weight of everything settled back down on my shoulders. Threatened to crush me under it.

Inside, Steve was sitting on the end of the couch, Cat wrapped up in a blanket with her head in his lap while he watched TV.

He looked up at me when I came in, “hey, where’d you go?”

“Took the dog for a run,” I huffed, letting Rocky go so he could find a comfy spot to lay down.

“Thought maybe you took off at first, then I saw the car still in the driveway.”

I looked to Cat’s face, seeing that she was still sleeping before answering, “thought about it.”

Steve’s mouth tightened, “well, I’m glad you didn’t. She needs you.”

“She’s got you,” I shrugged, wiping my brow along my forearm.

Steve bristled, “you and I both know that’s bullshit. I can’t do this alone, there's only so much I can do by myself. You need to get it together."

My jaw ticked as I grabbed my keys and went to grab my clothes from the bathroom. I can't be here right now. It's too much, I need to leave.

Steve cornered me in the hallway, stretching an arm out in front of me so I couldn’t shoulder past him.

My lip tensed up in a sneer, “fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve’s arm dropped to press two fingers to my chest, “what? You’re gunna walk out on her now? You wanted her so bad, figured out she’s broken and now you’re gunna toss her to the side? That’s really fucking great.”

“Harrington,” I growled, “I came back, didn’t I? Even though that’s not Cat in there, I didn’t leave her behind even though I don’t know who that is anymore.”

Steve’s voice raised as he got angrier, “you don’t know who she is anymore? That’s bullshit and you know it! You knew who she was yesterday! And you knew she was fucked up this whole time, you just didn’t want to see it!”

I ground my teeth. Tried to get past Steve but he stayed still.

“I’m serious. You need to get it together. We need to be strong, she might have to be hospitalized."

"Hospitalized? You mean like a psych ward?"

He nodded.

"No, no fucking way! She's fine here with you!"

"She's not fine here! She's sick!"

"Sick! Not crazy!" I shouted.

"She's suicidal, Billy!"

"So hide the fucking knives! We can take care of her."

"I've been trying to take care of her, it didn't work! You called her a zombie! How the fuck do you think we'll be able to take care of her?"

There was a small whimper behind Steve and when I looked over his shoulder, Cat was standing in the hallway, blanket tucked around her chin.

“I can go home,” she whispered, “if I’m a problem.”

Steve’s face fell, “no, that’s not what-”

“No, Baby,” I soothed, anger mostly dissolving as I stepped around Steve to cradle her in my arms, “you’re not a problem. We’re just talking, aren’t we, Steve?”

He nodded stiffly, “yeah, just talking.”

“I’m going to go pick up Max, you wanna come with me? We’ll go back to your place? I’m gunna have to go home for a bit but I can probably sneak out to spend the night if you want. Maybe Steve can stay with you?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “of course I can. I’ll be there around dinnertime.”

Cat nodded slowly, “okay.”

I ushered to her to the front door, grabbing my jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders so she’d drop the blanket.

“Five o'clock, Steve,” I muttered, “that’s when I have to leave.”

Steve nodded, “yeah, got it.”

–

I pulled up to Max’s school with Cat in the front seat, clutching my jacket around her and staring out the window listlessly. She’d been quiet and unresponsive the whole drive.

I reached over and laid my hand above her knee, squeezing gently until she looked at me, “you know you’re not a problem, right? I don’t think that at all. I just want you to get better, to be your happy self again,” I swallowed the knot in my throat and cupped her cheek in my hand, “I just want my girlfriend back.”

Cat looked at me wearily and leaned into my hand, “I heard you, at Steve’s. You said you don’t know who I am anymore.”

I sighed, withering a little bit, “that’s not..I didn’t mean it like that..it’s just, this isn’t you. You’re not yourself right now.”

She frowned and looked from me to out the window, “you know I can’t just flip a switch and be how you want me to be, right? I’ll still be the one who tried to kill herself, who was drugged and, and raped and if that’s too much for you, if you want to be with someone better, easier, then that’s okay. I won’t-”

“Shut up,” I growled, “you know that’s not what I meant, what I want. I just want to help you get better, I want to be here for you. I fucking love you, you know that, right?”

Cat nodded against my hand, “yeah, I know.”

I looked past her at the string of kids leaving the school and saw Max running down the stairs, hair flying out behind her as she ran to the car.

“There’s Max,” I smiled tightly and pressed a quick kiss to Cat’s forehead before getting out of the car and closing the door behind me.

Max noticed me get out of the car and waved at Cat in the window before coming around to my side, “hey Billy, how’s Cat?”

I leaned against the Camaro and lowered my voice, “not good, Max. We need to try to lift her spirits. I was thinking we’d go to her place, you know, so we don’t have to deal with Neil. You got any ideas? Girly shit that might make her happy?”

Max cocked her head to the side, “yeah, I think so. We’ll have to stop at home first though.”

I gave her a small smile and pulled her into my side for a quick hug, “yeah, okay. Thanks, kid.”

We stopped quickly at our house so Max could run in and I turned to face Cat again.

“Baby,” I murmured, taking her face in my hands, “I don’t...Idon’t know what to do here. I need you to talk to me, tell me what’s going on, what you need, okay? I’m trying, I’m really fucking trying to help you but I need you to try too. Can you do that for me?”

Cat closed her eyes and leaned forward to touch her forehead to mine, “I’ll try, B.”

I tilted her face up to kiss her gently, “thank you.”

–

I had taken Cat into the bathroom when we first got to her house and dutifully wrapped her arms in new bandages that I was sure Max had seen when we came back to the living room but she kept her word to me and pretended not to notice, she didn’t stare, didn’t ask, just started talking. Max had grabbed a few bottles of nail polish from Susan and patiently painted Cat’s finger and toe nails a soft peach color.

Something warm to cover the blue tint her nails had taken on.

When Cat’s nails were dry, she had Max pick a color and slowly painted her nails, a light smile ghosting over her lips while they talked. Max was telling her all about her group of friends, their current game of DnD, how they were determined to beat the high score on a game at the arcade. She also told Cat that after the last time we had helped her with her homework she aced a quiz and asked if Cat would keep helping her. It took a while for Cat to start giving more than tired nods and short answers but she eventually was smirking and giggling along with my sister while I lounged quietly on the couch, watching as they enjoyed their girl time. It was nearing five o'clock when I heard Steve’s car pull into the driveway and I slid off the couch to meet him outside.

I tapped a cigarette out and held it in my lips to light it as I waited for Steve to join me on the porch.

“Hey, how’s she doing?”

I took a long drag off the cigarette and let out a puff of smoke as I smiled, “better, I think. Max and her were having a good time. She’s actually talking now but I think she’s getting tired again. I’ll be back later tonight, have to wait until Neil’s asleep to sneak out. Get her to eat something.”

Steve nodded, “yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

I flicked my cigarette into the driveway, my smile fading as my voice lowered, “force feed her if you have to.”

Steve’s POV

After Billy left, I looked through Cat’s kitchen for something to eat and decided on spaghetti and garlic bread. It wasn’t long before the smell of garlic and tomato sauce hung heavy in the air, making my stomach rumble. Cat hadn’t talked to me since I got here so when I turned around and saw her standing in the door of the kitchen I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Jesus! You scared me,” I huffed.

She smirked and twisted her fingers in the sleeves of Billy’s jacket, “smells good, Stevie.”

“I made spaghetti and garlic bread,” I smiled, happy that she was up and talking to me again, “it’s almost ready if you want to grab plates and something to drink.”

Cat nodded and stepped around me to grab a plate from the cupboard and set it on the counter. After, she went into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of diet coke and set it down.

I frowned, “Cat, you need a plate too."

She scrunched her eyebrows together and shook her head before grabbing another plate down, “oh, right..."

"You feeling okay?" I asked, concerned.

She nodded, "fine. Just tired."

When the food was done, I scooped it onto the two plates and handed one to Cat who looked weirdly emotionless as she stared at the plate.

I carried my food to the living room and sat down on the couch, joined soon after by Cat. She flicked on the TV before picking at the food in front of her, moving it slowly around the plate. I watched her slide the food around her plate for a bit before clearing my throat.

“I really don’t want to have to blend that and pour it into your mouth,” I muttered through a mouth full of food.

Her lip twitched up with a smirk, “that might be easier."

“Well if you don’t eat it yourself I just might,” I grumbled.

She stared at me for a second, like she was testing me, debating whether I’d follow through or not and then stuck a single noodle in her mouth, humming at the taste.

“See? Is that so hard?”

Cat scowled, “Stevie, you have to know by now that it’s not that easy.”

“Okay, well tell me what’s going on, cause I don’t understand. You know you look like you’re dying, right? You are dying. I don’t understand why you want that.”

Cat scoffed and dropped the plate onto the table, "I’ve got it under control, it’s just a few pounds.”

“A few? You’ve like, halved since I met you. Like, at that party when I brought you home I knew you were sick and there’s so much less of you now! I don’t know how your mom hasn’t put you in a fucking hospital yet. Is that what you want? To be force fed in a hospital? To die and leave me and Billy without our best friend?”

“No..” she mumbled, “I just.. Stevie, I’m fine.”

I set my plate onto the table and reached across the couch to grab her shoulders, pulling her so she was looking at me, “listen to me, Cat. You’ve tried to kill yourself twice and I’ve stayed quiet, I’ve been trying to help you but I will get you hospitalized if you don’t wake up. Eat your fucking food.”

Cat flinched when I let her go and pulled herself to the edge of the couch, hunching into herself as she ate. Sadness washed over me as I looked at her but I knew I couldn’t sit by quietly anymore, I had to try to push her.

My final stand.

She finished a quarter of the plate and then set it back down with a withering sigh before settling back into the corner of the couch. It didn’t take long before I noticed her starting to nod off.

I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and laid it beside me, “come here,” I mumbled.

She looked at me and hesitated for a second before sliding across the couch into my lap. I covered her with the blanket and leaned back against the couch.

"You hurt me," I muttered.

"I know," she whispered, turning to look at me.

"A lot."

"I know.."

I looked down at her and softened. I wanted so badly to hold her close. To kiss her.

I wanted to breathe life back into her lungs.

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” she murmured, “that you have to deal with me.”

I sighed and looked away, “I don’t have to deal with you, I want to help you. I’m sorry, I just...I..I don’t want you to give up.”

Later on, when I started feeling my eyes grow heavy, I scooped Cat up into my arms and carried her to her room and laid her in her bed as gently as I could.

She still woke up, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine, “Stevie?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving?” She whispered.

“I was gunna sleep on the couch,” I murmured.

Cat whined a little, her breath hitching, “stay, please. Don’t leave me alone.”

“Okay,” I soothed, climbing into the bed beside her, “okay, I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

She slid forward to tuck her face into my chest and clutched at my shirt as she fell back asleep with my arms wrapped around her.

We were woken up hours later by the loud thud of someone sliding through the window into her bedroom.

I sat up with a start and fumbled to flick on the lamp beside the bed, illuminating Billy crouched on the ground with his head turned away from the light.

“Jesus, Hargrove,” I huffed, “ever hear of knocking? Or a fucking door?”

“Old habits,” he grumbled, keeping his face turned down to the ground.

“B..?” Cat looked over at him and slid out of the bed to pad quietly in front of him.

When he didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her, she took his face in her hands and turned it up and into the light, revealing a new bruise on his jawbone as well as a small cut under his eye.

Instantly I saw a whole other side to both of them. I’d seen Cat hurt, caring, kind and broken but I’d never seen this before. The way her whole body tensed like it was made of steel instead of glass, the anger that burned in her eyes and made her jaw clench. She was seething, her own issues forgotten to care for Billy, to run gentle hands over his wounds. It was strange how alive she was now, when before she’d been near comatose.

I’d seen Billy with fire in his eyes, like he could tear the world apart with his bare hands, and I’d seen him crumble but I was taken back by the hurt and shame on his face when she turned him into the light. His eyes were locked on the ground and his whole body slumped forward like she was the only thing holding him up. He was soft, pliable in her hands, letting Cat twist and turn him to check him over.

Vulnerable, I’d never seen Billy Hargrove vulnerable.

She thumbed gently over his bruised cheek and muttered, “he did this didn’t he?”

Billy didn’t say anything, he just leaned his face heavy into her hands and wrapped his hands gently around her waist.

I was pretty sure I knew but I still asked, “who did that?"

I watched his lip pull back in a sneer, “go fuck yourself, Harrington,” he growled at the same time as Cat murmured, “Neil.”

Billy’s shoulders pulled back, squared up as his jaw ticked against her hand, “Cat. Don’t,” he warned.

Cat looked up at him, “B, it’s okay. He’s okay.”

I thought of the snide comments Billy's father had said in passing. The muffled shouting I heard through their front door before I drove away.

“Neil? Isn’t that your dad?”

Billy’s hands clenched into fists against her back as Cat turned her face to look at me, “yeah, Stevie.”

My eyebrows knit together, “Why haven’t you gone to Hopper?”

“What? Go cry to the cops like a fucking pussy? End up in a shitty foster home? Get Max put into the system? No fucking thanks, it’s fine,” he growled.

Cat smoothed her thumb against his cheek, “B, shh it’s okay. Come on, let’s get some ice.”

She took his hand in hers and led him to the kitchen with me trailing behind, still shocked.

“What about your mom? Wouldn’t she become your guardian? Or maybe someone you know could-”

“Jesus, Harrington,” Billy whipped around and sneered at me, “what? I’ll live with you? Mister, my parents don’t give a shit about me and are across the fucking country? Cat’s mom’s never fucking around either and Susan doesn’t have any money without Neil. It’s fine. Leave it.”

That stung but suddenly, I understood. I understood why Billy was always so angry, why he stomped around ready to challenge anyone who got in his way. I understood why he hadn’t fully caught on to Cat’s issues and why he couldn’t understand how she was so nice. I understood why Cat hadn’t told him anything, how she thought it would be better for him to not have to bear the weight of her issues on top of his own.

“Okay, well, if I can do anything, I’m here,” I offered as Cat bundled ice into a towel and handed it to him.

Billy grunted as he pressed the cold towel to his skin and turned away from me to go sit in the living room. Cat paused and walked over to me to place a hand on my shoulder.

She spoke in a low voice so Billy couldn’t hear, “Stevie, he’ll appreciate it later. I know he will, he needs a brother, needs more than me. Billy’s just not good with emotions and stuff, you know?”

I nodded, “yeah, I get it. I should...I should get going."

Cat gave me a small smile, her face full of a tired kindness, “you can stay, Stevie. It’s late, don’t want you falling asleep on the drive home,” she patted my arm before turning and going to join Billy in the living room.

I waited until Cat pulled a slumping Billy back to her room before I made myself comfortable on the couch and quickly fell back asleep.

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #fanfiction

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itsgabriel-james · 3 years ago

Text

Sugar, We're Goin' Down

The off-season for Gabe was the best excuse he had for partying nonstop. He had been practicing and playing football every weekend since he started his first semester, so it was nice to be able to let loose.

Letting loose in his first year of college meant parties, parties, and more parties. He figured that as long as his performance in class and the gym didn’t suffer, he had nothing to lose. After all, if his grades suffered, or if his coach deemed him unfit, he’d lose his scholarship.

Not to mention Gabe was talking to Maddie less and less since being back at school for his second semester, and going out and getting drunk was a nice distraction from how much he missed her. They texted constantly, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her voice and seeing her face. He missed her face, and everything about her for that matter.

Gabe furrowed his brows as he drove to meet up with Morgan for their Sunday lunch. He was trying to remember the last time he and Maddie talked on the phone. His hungover brain was probably wrong, it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

Well he did call her last night, but it went straight to voicemail. That happened a lot since she joined the sorority. Gabe knew it was just because of all the events she had to attend. They had to either have phones off or use it for social media, so he figured she just set hers on DND.

Gabe put his car in park and looked down at his phone, checking to see if she had called back and he missed it. He fought a frown at the absence of missed calls and then shrugged it off before getting out of the car.

He went inside, Morgan was already at their usual table, and sat down across from her. Rick and Joey had been joining them each week, but they went on a camping trip that weekend.

The thought made Gabe sad as he thought about weekends away with his dad.

“Hi, hun, you look.. like you had fun last night,” Morgan said with a light laugh, noticing his hungover appearance. He usually cleaned up nicely for their lunches, but today he had visible facial hair, his hair was a bit disheveled, and he had bags under his eyes.

Gabe half-smiled and nodded, running his hand through his hair, “I went to Surfside last night for a bonfire. I didn’t get back until like four.”

Morgan tilted her head to the side and frowned, “You could have cancelled, Gabe. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this every week, especially if you’d rather be in bed.”

Gabe shook his head, “No, no, I wanted to come. We had plans, I wasn’t going to cancel. Besides, this food is so much better than the dining hall at school, and I could go for a burger with some bacon.”

Morgan smiled at her son and nodded, “Well I’m happy to see you, even if you’re hungover. Order as many sides of fries as you want.”

He smiled back at her, “Oh trust me, I will.”

Their lunch consisted of catching up on each other’s week. Morgan always asked about school and Maddie. Usually he had an answer for both. Today he could only speak for one.

“School’s been good. Classes are as usual,” he spoke vaguely, his thoughts starting to drift back to his long distance girlfriend.

Had it really been over a week since they talked?

“And Maddie? How is she?” Morgan asked while finishing up her food.

Gabe picked at the fries on his plate, “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll have better luck getting in touch with her than I do.” He was half joking. Part of him was feeling a little bitter. That was probably the hangover talking.

Morgan’s reaction made him regret his words. He didn’t want her to think something was wrong. “I mean, she’s good. We text. I just haven’t spoken to her for real in a while. A little over a week, I think. We’ve both been so busy, and she’s in that sorority now.”

His mom was understanding. She looked as if she was going to drop the subject, but her face changed slightly, “Isn’t her birthday coming up? You mentioned that last week.”

Gabe smiled and nodded his head, “Yeah, shit, that reminds me. I need to send her a gift. I’ll probably head to the boardwalk and pick something out for her.”

“Go to Amherst,” Morgan smiled at him encouragingly. “Her birthday is Friday, right? You could fly out and surprise her. That will probably be a better gift than anything you’d find on the boardwalk.”

Gabe raised his eyebrows at the idea, “That.. actually could work. I have two classes in the morning, but after that I’m free until Monday afternoon. We can spend the whole weekend together. She can show me the campus, her room, introduce me to her annoying sorority sisters.”

Morgan gave him a small look at the last part, but didn’t speak on it. “I think it’s a great idea. I’ll even buy your plane ticket since it was my idea.”

Gabe smiled a real, genuine smile, one that had been missing for a few days, “Really? Thanks, Mom.”

Morgan smiled at how he called her mom. It didn’t happen often, but it did slip once or twice lately. “You’re welcome.”

Gabe was actually excited for the first time since he was back home. He was gonna get to see his girl again. He imagined how happy she would be to see him. The look on her face. The rough sex they’d have. The romantic sex to follow.

He was looking forward to Friday more than he ever had.

#self para

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years ago

Note

For whenever you feel like it: hello, please tell me about your DND characters!!

This seems to be a catch all kind of question so I’m gonna use it to just ramble about all of them. (Putting it under a cut because I really did just ramble for a while)

Content warning for alcohol mention and death mention.

Zafrina Carrpuff Cunningsmoke was the first I made so her backstory is a bit generic as I relied heavily on the dragonborn lore I knew at the time. She’s a chaotic neutral green dragonborn farmgirl who, as much as family means to her, wants to see the world. She left her farm once she’d come of age and moved to a small town nearby. When that town was attacked by an ogre, she stepped up and defeated it. (Her backstory is Folk Hero) She doesn’t have any siblings and was raised and trained by her mother.

She left that town and met up with her current party of ragtag heroes. She travels with an elf rouge/ swashbuckler with sticky fingers (my older brother), a dwarf paladin following the Oath of Devotion who enjoys being in control and is completely oblivious to the sorcerer’s flirting (my father), a human sorcerer who is either perpetually tired of the group or the instigator of shenanigans and enjoys flirting with the paladin (my mother), a dwarf druid following the Circle of the Land who is book dumb and barely street smart (my younger brother), and was recently joined by an elf sorcerer who doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation (my other sister).

Her favorite weapons are the long bow or her newly acquired morning star. She’s a ranger but is a klutz. She gets bored easily and hungry even easier, once eating the hand of someone the party was trying to interrogate simply because the person was being stubborn and she was bored. Her next favorite weapon that does barely any damage is her boomerang.

Noteworthy anecdotes about her is that I once received inspiration for insulting my father (both of us were in character at the time). I spent at least three sessions trying to get a panther and, once finally getting one, I promptly named it Virgil (most of the party just calls him Baby but I’m fine with that) and was very happy the rest of the session.

Lorarila Sarxiron has a noble background and was the second I made. Her personality can best be described as the peppy cheerleader kind of character. She’s a chaotic neutral half elf bard who makes her best music while drunk due to being taught how to play by an uncle that was always drunk. The instruments and skills she didn’t learn from him were taught to her by the local tavern. She vowed to follow the College of Whispers after finding out that was the one her uncle was in. Despite that college typically being used for evil, and her uncle using it for the same, she vowed to use it for good.

She decided to take up adventuring as she hoped to reverse some of her uncles misdeeds whilst seeing the world. Despite being a bard and being well aware of the promiscuous stereotype that comes with such a class, she’s asexual and sees no reason in sex.

(She’s being used in a horror campaign that was supposed to be a short thing finished by Halloween but this family is dysfunctional) Whilst walking to the room she’d been staying in one night, she was caught in the fog and transported to a town seemingly abandoned where she met her current party. She’s currently exploring a house with many secrets with a fire genasi who is very done with the rest of them (my eldest sister who DMs usually), an elf bard that’s a wimp (my other sister), an aarokocra monk who doesn’t like being alone (my younger brother), and a kenku named Shibble (I named it for her) played by my mother.

Kalgrea Aestros (I’ve accidentally been calling her by their last name this whole time) is my most recent character and the one I’m most excited to play with. Pronouns are she/they and gender identity is nonbinary. She’s a chaotic evil tiefling warlock with an axe to grind and an archfey patron. Her skin is lavender and her hair is stark white.

She was happily engaged to a loving (haven’t decided the race yet) woman. When they were traveling to Kalgrea’s hometown to get married, they were attacked by bandits and their fiancé was killed. Kalgrea swore vengeance and made a warlock pact with an archfey, the Prince of Frost. She swore to give him the hearts of any enemies they encounter if he became her patron and gave them the power to do so. He was amused by their offer and, having also lost a lover to battle, agreed.

Thus Kalgrea set out for vengeance, determined to use any means necessary to bring her adversary to ruin. They will join a group with the intent of learning new skills and getting stronger to one day take her lovers killer down and fulfill their pact with the Prince of Frost.

I haven’t used her in a campaign yet simply because my family isn’t the right party to use them with as I wanna do a roleplay heavy campaign for her, they’re going to be a very angry person who’s quite standoffish. I don’t know what campaign I’m going to use them with but that will most likely dictate what the fiancé’s race is.

And yeah, that’s my three characters! You guys can ask about my party members and I can give anecdotes about them but for the most part that’s all there is about them. I’m always willing to ramble about these girls and enby as I really love them.

#asks #answered ask #thanks for the ask!#this really made my day just being able to ramble about my #dnd ocs

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catsafarithewriter · 5 years ago

Note

“That’s the creepiest statue I’ve ever seen and it’s just casually sitting in your living room.”

A/N: Hello folks, yes I am still working on these; just trying to find the best angle (ie: funniest, fluffiest, or angstiest) to write these from, and this one definitely falls in the funniest category. I doubt this was what you had in mind, chez, but I think you’ll enjoy it regardless :)

Also apologies for the weird “keep reading” placement; tumblr decided to place it in the ask, and now I can’t remove it. :/

“That’s the creepiest statue I’ve ever seen and it’s just casually sitting in your living room.” Hiromi prodded the figurine resting along the bookcase and made a face. “His head’s too big for his body and he has the teeth of a chipmunk.”

Haru leant over and slapped Hiromi’s prying hand away. “That’s because he’s a nutcracker, Hiromi. He’s meant to look like that.”

Hiromi wrinkled her nose. “Even with those teeth, I don’t think it’ll do a very good job of cracking nuts.”

“It’s decorative.”

“You mean useless.”

“So is your lounge window, but you don’t see me judging you.”

“You did judge me.”

Haru rolled her eyes. “Okay, but you used the latch key as a screwdriver and broke it. How could I not judge you?” She shook her head and moved the nutcracker pointedly out of Hiromi’s reach. “Anyway, a friend brought him back from their travels as a gift, so he’s staying.”

“Which friend? The hot English guy or...?”

Haru regretted introducing Hiromi to Baron, even if he had been conveniently human at the time, because Hiromi had immediately latched onto the truth both her and Baron had been politely ignoring in that they were both head over heels in love with one another. Hiromi didn’t know about complications such as immortal lifespans or Creations and had shamelessly made it her personal project to get them together.

Haru didn’t meet Hiromi’s knowing gaze, and tried to remember if Hiromi had ever met Louise. “No, his, um, sister.”

“Oh. The hot English lady then.”

“Yes.”

“Is she taken or...?”

“She’s married, Hiromi.”

“Drat. She’s cute.”

“Yeah. And married.” Haru shooed Hiromi out of the lounge. “Now if you’ve quite finished judging my interior fashion design, we have a movie to get to, remember?” She grabbed her coat and passed Hiromi’s jacket across. Honestly, if that was how Hiromi reacted to a nutcracker, Haru couldn’t pretend to imagine how she’d respond to seeing Baron’s figurine form.

Perhaps it was just as well she’d met his “hot English guy” form instead.

It was midnight when Haru awoke to the sound of scuffling.

She turned over in her bed and watched her clock mark the passing of one day to the next, and mentally berated the Bureau. Seriously, was it that difficult to let her sleep? Or at least give her a warning before they crashed her place with news of a fresh case?

She admitted defeat and rolled out of her room, pulling her dressing gown tight around her and rubbing the sleepdust from her eyes.

“This better be urgent, Baron, or I’m going to tie all your bows into Gordian knots--” She froze.

She hadn’t stepped into a sheepish Bureau, as she’d been expecting.

Instead, she seemed to have stepped right into a tiny battle that was ensuing between an army of rats and the tin soldiers that Haru had bought for Hiromi’s next DnD session. She could see the remains of their packaging torn and ripped as if burst open from the inside.

“I’m still sleeping,” Haru muttered. “That’s it. This is a dream. This has to be a dream, because this is too weird, even for me, and I’ve almost been eaten by plants at least twice. I’m clocking out at rat wars in my lounge.”

A rat sank its teeth into her foot and she yelped and kicked the creature into the wall. Bloody bite marks decorated her skin. “Okay, maybe not a dream,” she grumbled. She inspected her foot. “You lot better not have rabies...”

There was a roar of triumph as several of the tin soldiers discovered the tactical merit of dropping heavy books on the rats below. Haru yelped as she spotted her signed book of urban legends get merrily tossed over the side. She snatched up the next upcoming causality before it could join the rest. “Stop that!”

There was a tearing sound, and Haru turned just in time to see a rat slide down the curtains, its claws leaving long slashes in the material. She slammed the book into the rat. “I have fought pirates and kings and slime monsters,” she roared, “and I am not going to let you be the ones to ruin the deposit on my flat!”

She gave the rat another hit and punted it across the room.

Just in time to spot the tin soldiers setting up the miniature catapult.

Haru took a moment to appreciate how they had managed to cobble together a working catapult from elastic bands, lollypop sticks, and a spoon, and then another horrified moment to register the eggs they were using as ammunition.

“Oh my god, don’t you dare--”

An egg hit her sofa.

Another the TV.

A third painted a very yolky picture across her window.

In fact, very few seemed to be actually hitting the rats they were aiming for. Trust them to have stormtrooper aim.

“Charge, men!” cried the de facto leader, armed with a fork and a head too big for his body. The nutcracker. Naturally. “Let’s show these rodents what we’re made of!”

“If Louise had any idea about this...” Haru muttered mutinously. She admitted defeat and grabbed the communication gem Baron had given her to contact the Bureau. She was going to need some back-up. As it began to glow, there was a decidedly rodent cheer, and Haru looked up just as the nutcracker was captured by who Haru could only guess was the Rat King, given the crown seated atop his head.

“At last,” the Rat King gloated in a voice that made Haru wonder if he had been born with that voice, or had carefully cultivated it to fulfil his evil role, “I have you in my clutches! Now, should I turn you into matchsticks or firewood...?”

“Not on my watch,” Haru said and she grabbed the nearest thing to hand - her slipper - and pitched it across the living room. It slammed into the Rat King with about as much force as... well, a slipper.

Maybe she should have grabbed a book instead.

Regardless, she suddenly found everyone’s attention on her - a hundred beady little rat eyes and a dozen soldiers’ gazes - and raised her other slipper. “I’m warning you, I’ve got friends in the Cat Kingdom and I’m not afraid to call them!” She tilted her palm so they could see the communication gem, which was still glowing with no reply.

She didn’t have to call her bluff, though, for the mere mention of cats sent a rattle of nerves flooding through the rats.

“Cats?” she heard hissed. “The Cat Kingdom?”

“My aunt was eaten by a cat.”

“One caught my great great grandfather and they say it took an hour for it to finish him off.”

“A whole kingdom of cats?”

“I’m not sticking around for them to arrive.”

“Me neither.”

Haru watched with surprised relief as the rats scurried away.

“Wait!” the Rat King cried. “It’s a trick! She’s...” He trailed off as he abruptly found himself very alone and very outnumbered.

Haru grinned and leant in to the Rat King. “This is the bit,” she whispered conspiringly, “where you run away.”

The Rat King gulped and nodded. “Okay.” He fell back onto all four paws and scampered after his minions. “Hey, wait up! Wait for me!”

With a fair bit of earned smugness, Haru straightened and smoothed out her dressing gown. “Not bad, even if I do say so myself... aww, I’ve got egg on this--″

“Lady! You have saved us!”

“--and I thought I was doing so well until then...”

“Our lives are in your debt!”

Haru blinked and registered the figurine that was currently hugging her leg. “Oh, right. Sure. All in a day’s work with the Bureau, now if you’ve got any solution for how to get egg out of cotton...”

“We must reward you!”

“Sure, sure, just buy me a new dressing gown and we’ll call it quits.”

“Such a trivial gift is not enough to show our appreciation!” the nutcracker cried. “I am the prince of the Doll Kingdom, trapped in this world until I defeat the Rat King who overthrew me, but now I can return home--”

Haru blinked again. Rapidly. “Oh no.”

“--and I shall do so with you by my side!”

The gem in her hand chimed, and Baron’s voice rose up. “Haru? Haru, are you okay? What’s happened?! Why are you calling in the middle of the night?!”

Haru wet her lips and raised the communication gem to her mouth.

“Baron, you’ll never believe this,” she said, “but I’ve just rescued another prince...”

#chez-pezeater #replies #cat writes #the cat queues #also hiromi is definitely not straight #just saying #also there's a shrek reference in there i think #I don't think I'll continue thi #I just entertained myself with the idea of haru rescuing another prince #and being pronounced rewarded with a kingdom #also haru getting angry over the mess that a rat battle causes #adulthood is discovering that all the adventure gets suddenly less exciting when you have to tidy up afterwards

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sparxwrites · 4 years ago

Text

(written to “american love” by smallpools, which is a bit of a nadi anthem tbqh. neidyasset ainseelie is my character from a dnd campaign by @ladyofrosefire. for my fellow players: beware, there are Minor Spoilers here for the much-hyped eventual Meeting Of Nadi’s Family, in that this fic is primarily about nadi’s family. if you don’t care about that, then feel free to read on!!)

cw for shitty/manipulative parenting, a dubiously healthy relationship with alcohol, and an excess of teenage angst

[ao3]

The butler let Nadi in, as always. A new one, since the last time she’d visited – a young man, either an unusually pale Drow or half-Elven, smartly dressed in the Ainseelie livery of ivory and gold and already looking tired of his job.

She kept her eyes down, mumbling a thank you as he let her through the heavy wood-and-wrought-iron front door. No sense getting too friendly, all things considered. Her mother’d never been too good at keeping butlers – or any kind of serving staff for that matter. It rankled, she knew, just one of the many pricks at her mother’s noble pride.

He took her bags, too, foisting them off onto a more junior staff member moments later. She kept her satchel, one hand clutched around the strap across her chest, but the rest were spirited away before she had time to take more than two steps into the entrance hall. Quite how the butler thought he could get them to her room before she got there, she wasn’t sure, but–

“Neidyasset!” Lady Luarine Ainseelie’s voice rang out through the large entrance hall.

Nadi froze, eyes still on the pale, veined marble of the floor. That was how, apparently. Relying on a little family reunion. Unfortunate.

She’d assumed her parents would be out, given her deliberately-awkward mid-afternoon arrival, but apparently not. There was her mother on the stairs – in an elegant, understated dress of pale silk to compliment the deep purple of her skin, gold-set diamonds hung around her throat in thin, dripping strings, and a perfect smile pasted on her perfectly made-up face.

Her father stood a full two meters to the side, one step down, in starched cotton dress pants and a shirt rolled up to his elbows, both in a shade of ivory to tone with his wife’s gown and accented with gold buttons. His expression was as flat and unreadable as ever, lips pulled into a thin line and his eyes hard and cold.

“Lady Luarine Ainseelie,” said Nadi, forcing a smile onto her face that was somehow even more fake than her mother’s own painted-on one. “Lord Istas Ainseelie. It’s good to see you.” She offered a clumsy attempt at a curtsey, then gave up on it half way through as a bad deal and segued into a stiff bow.

Istas snorted, softly and humourlessly, at the graceless display.

The look his wife gave him out the corner of her eye was positively glacial, though her smile never wavered. “Neidyasset, darling, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Mother?” she said, expansive generosity in every word. A lie. They’d been through this little script enough times for Nadi to know the reaction if she opened with Mother. “Honestly. So formal!”

“Mother. Of course. ” Nadi straightened up, carefully correcting her posture and ensuring her shoulders weren’t up around her pointed ears, clasping one hand around the other wrist at the small of her back. “I… had assumed you would be out making social calls, given the hour and the season. I would have sent ahead to inform you of my arrival, otherwise.”

Luarine smile widened, though it still didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, water under the bridge,” she demurred. “The servants will sort everything, regardless. It’s just good to have you home, Neidyasset. How have your studies been?”

“They’re going well.” Nadi’s fingers tightened around her wrist, trying to remember this particular bit of the script, what lie she’d used last time. “It’s– you know. Business as usual. Research, reading, experiments… my supervisor’s hopeful that I’m very close to a breakthrough, but it’s always a little slow going when you’re on the cutting edge of arcane research.” She shrugged, dipped her gaze in what she hoped was a modest gesture, not a suspicious one. “I won’t bore you with the technical details, but it’s groundbreaking work. We’re taking mathemagics and philoarcanosophy to previously-unconceived-of heights. Very exciting.”

It was a lie, but mostly a white lie. Nad reassured herself with that, even as the nape of her neck prickled at the deception, even as she fought to keep from breaking out into a guilty cold sweat.

There was absolutely no need for her family to know about her missing supervisor, after all. About the faculty’s ambivalence towards finding her a new one. About her stagnating research, in light of her recent academic suspension. And definitely no need for them to know about the impromptu Feywild trip. The mere thought of her mother learning that little tidbit was almost enough to make her shudder.

Though if Professor Egreth was gone for much longer… well. She’d burn that bridge when she got to it.

“Oh, how exciting!” Luarine turned to Istas, with a smile that showed too many teeth. “Our own little Neidyasset, on the cutting edge of arcane research. Aren’t you just so proud?”

“I am indeed,” said, Istas, drilly, looking as though he couldn’t care less. As though he would prefer to be literally anywhere else, having literally any other conversation. His gaze was fixed in the middle distance, on a point on the far wall somewhere well over the top of Nadi’s head.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Nadi felt a fleeting sense of kinship with her father.

“We’re both very proud,” said Luarine, fussily smoothing her hands over an imagined crease in her skirt, not so much as batting an eyelid at her husband’s lack of enthusiasm. “I can’t wait for your graduation, Neidyasset. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the town.”

Nadi, not sure what to say to that particular little performance-cum-threat, offered a respectful half-bow in response.

She was rewarded with a high, insincere laugh from Luarine. Istas gave no response whatsoever, save for crossing his arms, as though he were also waiting for the rigmarole to be over – though far more blatantly than Nadi was.

“So formal! Always so formal, our little Neidyasset.” Luarine eyed her up and down, taking in the mismatched boots, the scuffed trousers and oversized jumper, the goggles still perched atop Nadi’s head. “Though not so formally dressed, unfortunately. You’ll want to clean up before dinner.”

“Why? Do we have company?” Nadi fidgeted absently with the strap of her satchel, trying to not grind her teeth at the extended eye contact, the extended pantomime of politeness. She wanted nothing more than to disappear to her room, but her desire was subsumed beneath familial duty, beneath her mother’s pointed stare.

Like a butterfly on a board, she was pinned in place until Luarine decided otherwise.

“Though Talice will, unfortunately, not be joining us this Heartsease – she’s been asked to play a vital part in the ceremonies at the temple, can you imagine! Our Talice! – but the Lord Ainseelie has kindly lent us Veyris back for the holiday.” She failed to hide the note of distaste in her voice, despite the smile still firmly in place. “So she will be joining us. And I’ve invited the Lady Sabine’s family to dinner tonight. She, unfortunately, is otherwise engaged, but her sister and brother-in-law will be joining us! And their daughter, too – who I’m quite sure I told you about in my last letter.”

The letter had, if Nadi remembered correctly, made much of exactly how eligible Lady Sabine’s niece was. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. Yet another futile matchmaking dinner – and on her first evening home, too. What fun.

“So we must all be dressed appropriately, and on our best behaviour,” concluded Luarine, with a singularly pointed look at her daughter. “It’s very important to make a good impression. And, of course, we’ll be having family over for the next few nights after that – the Lord Ainseelie and some of his entourage,” again, the ill-hidden distaste, “tomorrow, I believe, and the Arganans the day after, And then, of course, it’s the family ball. I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring a suitable outfit for you, since I assume that you have failed to do so.”

Nadi ground her teeth a little harder, her mother’s tone sliding between her ribs more effectively than any dagger. “Thank you, Mother,” she managed after a moment, her voice perfectly flat. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Yes, I thought so too. Anyway. Busy busy busy! An exciting few days ahead of us. And it’s lovely that you could join us. Finally. After your absence, the last few holidays.” There was no missing the icy note in Luarine’s voice. No missing her pointed disapproval, even buried as it was beneath layers of courtly courtesy.

“Mmh. Well. Academia’s time consuming, unfortunately,” lied Nadi, through her teeth. She’d spent Silver Night drinking copious amounts of sweet, spiced rum and doing shots of brightwine with the other Starspire postgrads in her student flat’s kitchen, until she’d passed out at the table in the wee hours of the morning. She’d spent King’s Day before that in the bed of some mathematics undergraduate, half-drunk and drowning her worries in easy, meaningless sex. “I’m glad I could return home for Heartsease, though.”

Another lie. Nadi felt sure her mother must know, because she’d never been much good at lying – but the polite, insincere smile pasted onto Luarine’s immaculately painted face never faltered.

Perhaps her mother hadn’t noticed. Perhaps Luarine just didn’t care, so long as the pretense at happy families was maintained.

“Luarine, dear,” interrupted Istas, before Luarine could launch into more barbed platitudes. “As thrilling as your entrance hall interrogation of our daughter is, perhaps you could save it for dinner? I’m sure she’d prefer to run along and get… cleaned up.” He, too, eyed her well-worn lab outfit, and the corner of one lip curled up in distaste. “She looks sorely in need of a bath, after all. And a change of clothes.”

Nadi tightened the hand around her wrist until she felt sure she must be cutting the circulation off, and dug the blunt nails of her other hand into her palm until it ached.

For a split second, Luarine’s expression cracked, and a look of frustrated loathing flashed across her face – though Nadi missed it, busy sinking nails into her own skin and staring into the middle distance. Then it was gone, tucked neatly behind her near-flawless mask once more. “Oh! Of course. Quite right, husband dearest. She must be quite desperate to refresh herself.” She regarded Nadi for a long moment, and then flapped a dismissive hand at her. “You are excused. I look forward to continuing our conversation at dinner.”

“Mother. Father.” Nadi bowed once more, a little more gracefully this time, and then fled.

She didn’t run, but she did walk faster than was probably seemly, her boots echoing against the marble in the cavernous entrance hall and the hallway leading out of it. Down a corridor to the right, a turn to the left, up a staircase spiralling hidden behind an innocuous door, out into another hallway on the second floor, a sharp right turn–

The door to her bedroom clicked shut behind her, and Nadi inhaled properly for the first time since setting foot in the house as she turned the lock.

It took a long moment of just remembering to breathe, her slumped against the solid wood of her door, before she found the energy to pull herself up. She wandered into the centre of the room and, looking around. It was exactly as she’d left it, last time she was home – the furniture lavish and elegant, dark wood and lacquer and metal, but sparse.

The four-poster bed dominated the room, draped with deep purple silks and beautifully embroidered linens. A writing desk sat under one silk-curtained window, along with a high-backed chair and her bags. In the corner was a tall, thin armoire, and a capacious chest of drawers.

Otherwise, the room was empty – no rugs on the flagstone floors, no personal effects, no artwork. What little clutter she’d had was currently occupying every available surface in her student room, leaving her bedroom at home looking distinctly un-lived-in. Which was appropriate, really, given how rarely she returned to it

Nadi sighed, and set her satchel down on the desk, with a dull thump that echoed in the empty, high-ceilinged room. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned her familiar to her shoulder.

An irritated-looking raven popped into being with an angry squawk, nearly sliding off her shoulder before righted himself – hitting her in the face with one large wing, and grabbing at one of her many earrings with his beak for balance. Even once he was settled, he kept tugging on it, nibbling at the point of one long, obsidian ear until Nadi swatted him off her shoulder.

“Vyrrd,” Nadi chided, without any sort of heat in her voice. She tugged her goggles off her head, setting them down on the desk beside her bag, and dragged a hand over the close-cropped fuzz of her glittering, silvery hair. “Fucking hells, though, right? Fucking hells. Encounter one survived. Fifteen minutes down, four days to go.”

Vyrrd ruffled his wings at her, indignantly, from his new perch on the footboard of her four-poster bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Mother bitches terribly when you’re a rat, though, so, you know. Suck it up for a few days. We’re both making sacrifices here. I’ll give you pizza after.” A suspicious croak. “Loads of pizza. I promise.” A less suspicious croak. “As much pizza as you want. Which is gonna be like half a slice, because rats have super tiny stomachs. Dumbass.”

She toed her mismatched boots off and left them by the end of the bed, padding over in her socks to the old, elaborately-carved wardrobe in the corner. When she opened it, it was already full of the clothes she’d brought home for her visit – the staff must have at least partially unpacked for her. The thought sent her stomach into an uncomfortable curl. She wasn’t a fan of other people touching her stuff.

Hanging on the far right of the rail, though, was the outfit her mother had mentioned. Nadi took it out, and held it up to the refracted light of the crystalline chandelier, appraising it with a critical eye.

The shirt was thin, bordering on sheer, a deep, cool charcoal that highlighted the blue undertones of her obsidian skin. It was unadorned, so as not to detract from the suit it was designed to accompany – a darkly iridescent, exquisitely tailored waistcoat and trousers. The fabric of the slim trousers caught the light in unusual ways as Nadi twisted the hanger back and forth, the dark fabric picking up oil-slick hints of green, blue, purple, and pink in every crease and fold. The waistcoat went a step further, the front covered entirely in exquisite, carefully-arranged raven feathers, sleek and gorgeous, its fastenings disguised beneath the plumage.

Hung next to it was a jacket, no doubt also carefully tailored to her measurements, made of the same iridescent fabric as the pants and the back of the waistcoat. It was lined with a silk so deeply purple-blue it was almost black, and buttoned up to the throat with silver buttons stamped with the Ainseelie crest.

“The bitch’s got good taste in clothes, if nothing else,” murmured Nadi, running a finger down the front of the waistcoat and sighing at the texture of feathers against skin. “And you’ll match beautifully, Vyrrd, huh? Lucky you.”

Vyrrd, now underneath the bed and undoubtedly hunting for months-old crumbs, communicated his disinterest in Drow fashion with a half-hearted croak.

A cursory check of the wardrobe floor found a new pair boots, sturdy and ankle-high, polished to a mirror shine. There was new jewellery in the jewellery box on her desk, too, as Nadi had known there would be. No new earrings or rings – her mother had given up on that particular battle a while ago, irritably resigned to Nadi’s assortment of diamond studs and platinum hoops and mismatched finger jewellery – but there was a new string of diamonds, so small they’d do little more than catch the light in a fine sparkle, long enough to wrap several times around one wrist.

“Pretty,” she murmured, absently, testing the drape of it over her fingers and tilting her hand back and forth to make it catch the light. It glittered, beautifully, like a line of tiny stars across the inky darkness of her skin. It would turn into a constellation when worn, she had no doubt, throwing delicate points of light across the oily darkness of her clothing.

She dropped it back in the jewellery box, pleased but disinterested, and wandered over to join Vyrrd in poking around under the bed.

There, directly under where her pillow would lie on the mattress above, was her faithful old loose flagstone. Or rather, loosened flagstone. She’d rather deliberately cracked one corner of the enormous slab in her youth, and pried it up to carve out a small hollow beneath in which to stash anything she didn’t want her mother’s prying eyes to find.

She was pleased to discover it as undisturbed as ever – though she had no doubts that if her Luarine had found it, it would have been the first thing out her mouth the minute Nadi walked through the door.

Nudging aside a couple of books, a sheaf of papers, and a small pouch, she pulled free a heavy bottle of amber liquid. Dwarvish whiskey, old and extortionately expensive, pilfered unnoticed from her father’s collection several years earlier. It was still half-full, and Nadi hummed happily, standing up and letting it swing idly by the neck from her fingertips as she padded over to the ensuite bathroom door.

The bath had been filled, no doubt by the same attentive servants who had feverishly unpacked her belongings whilst she’d been waylaid by her parents. The water in the claw-footed tub steamed faintly. It was probably hot enough to nearly scald, just the way she liked it. It was both gratifying and uncomfortable to realise that someone in this godforsaken house knew her tastes well enough to hew so closely to them, down to even her bathing preferences.

After several years of an – admittedly high-class – student lifestyle, such luxuries seemed both foreign and awkward, an unexpected and delightful-yet-discomforting indulgence.

Nadi set the bottle of spirits gently down on the floor by the edge of the tub, and considered the water for a moment. Her gaze settled on the slow curls of steam from the surface, unfocusing as she tracked the random, meandering path of the vapour. Another increment of tension eased from her shoulders at the minor dissociation, and she exhaled slowly, letting her eyes fall shut.

Her internal deliberation about whether to strip off there and then and climb straight into the hot water, however, was interrupted by an insistent knocking at her bedroom door.

Eyes snapping open, Nadi stifled a groan, shoulders hunching up once more. “Coming!” she called, loudly, making sure to kick the door to the bathroom closed behind her as she left to answer. “Gimmie a moment!”

A cursory glance around her room confirmed nothing offensive in view – the flagstone section had been replaced, Vyrrd was still busy beneath the bed, and the bottle of illicit whiskey was out of sight behind the door of the en-suite. Satisfied within reason, Nadi braced herself, and unlocked the door to her room before pulling it open.

She needn’t have bothered with the pre-emptive stress. No sooner had she opened the door, than Veryris had thrown herself through it, dragging her younger sister into a tight embrace. “Nadi! You’re back! Finally. It’s so good to see you.”

Her vision was, abruptly, filled with the lower quarter of her sister’s head – a deep purple-charcoal cheek and long, silvery braids twisted into an immaculately elegant hairstyle. Her elder sister was everything she wasn’t; long-haired where she was close-cropped, tall where she was short, willowy where she was stocky, sociable where she was awkward.

Sometimes it seemed hard to believe they were genetically related, with the differences as stark as they were.

Nadi tolerated the embrace for a polite, painful count of five, before disentangling herself. “Vey,” she said, voice soft and uncharacteristically warm, despite the lingering discomfort of unanticipated physical contact still prickling across her skin. “It’s good to see you too. How’ve you been? Surviving under the watchful eye of the dread Lord Ainseelie?”

Veyris laughed, a light, high-pitched sound that was significantly more sincere than her mother’s. “I’ve got my townhouse, thank you very much, so I’m hardly under his eye. Or anyone’s, for that matter. And Uncle Rhyldyn is far more interesting to be around than Mother and Father, so you needn’t worry about me. The internship is a dream. I’m learning more about politics than I could ever have dreamed– and I’m almost starting to believe Mother’s theories about him handing off the Ainseelie title to me. I mean, he’s still unmarried, well into middle age, and the kind of duties he’s having me perform–”

She cut herself off, eyes bright with obvious excitement. “Ahem..” Her cheeks darkened a little, clearly embarrassed with herself at such an enthusiastic, unseemly outpouring – enough so that even Nadi could spot it. “Anyway, enough about me. How’re you? How’s school been? You must tell me everything! I’ve been surviving on Mother’s gossip and parliamentary intrigue for months and, I must say, it’s not half as interesting as the stories you come back with.”

For a moment, Nadi considered spilling her guts to her big sister. About Professor Egreth, about the academic suspension, about the Feywild and the strange people in it. About the tiefling coming to crash at her dorm. Or even about just some of it, just the funny bits, just about her brief and bizarre trip to the Feywild in all its improbability and alien beauty.

Veyris would have loved the it, she knew, if only for the drama and high elegance of it all. Her sister had always loved the fey. Or had, at least, loved the romanticised, fairy-tale version of what the fey could be, learned through childhood books and second-hand stories.

In the end, though, Nadi bit her tongue. “Still haven’t got Jazreth expelled,” she said instead, with a toothy grin and a slight pang in her ribs at the lie-by-omission. “I accidentally set a water elemental loose in the lab about a month ago, so. That’s a thing. The vice-provost just loves me, right now.”

“Oh, gods.” Veyris made a hand gesture commonly used to ask for Bahamut’s protection, only half-jokingly. “You’re going to give me grey hairs, Nadi. Grey hairs. Uncle Rhyldyn will ask me where my beautiful white hair has gone, and I shall have to blame you.” Her lips, though, curled into a co-conspiratorial smile. “You’ve got to tell me all about it. After dinner. And over some kind of alcohol, since I know you’re good at swindling that from the serving staff – so I’ve something to look forward to, after Mother’s no doubt extensive interrogation of us both..”

“I’ll bother the cook into giving us some of the good wine. Assuming Mother’s managed to keep same cook as the last time I was here. And assuming I survive dinner,” grumbled Nadi, her good mood soured by the reminder of what was to come. “Mother’s trying to set me up with some nice, eligible Drow heir, again. Because gods forbid I be allowed to finish my fucking doctoral studies without the promise of wedding bells at the end.” She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.

“Bahamut’s balls, Nadi,” groaned Veyris. Sympathetic as she was to her sister’s exasperation at their mother’s machinations, she found the endless whining more than a little wearing. “Yes, Mother’s endless matchmaking gets a little tiring, but do stop complaining. Or– I don’t know! Do an Aunt Vierayema, or something! Take a year studying abroad, find someone to marry who’s wealthy but just disreputable enough that you stop getting invited to dinner other every week, and then settle down in that ivory tower of yours for the rest of your life, blissfully free of familial bothering. Honestly.”

Nadi’s lips twitched, somewhere between amusement and irritation. “Or find someone very disreputable, and do an Uncle Tobith, and stop getting invited to any dinners, family or otherwise, ever.”

“Absolutely not.” Veyris levelled a finger at her sister, abruptly deadly serious. “Absolutely, under no circumstances, do an Uncle Tobith. Because you’re my sister, and I love you, and I do not want to deal with the enormous mess that would be you getting disinherited and then me trying to re-inherit you when I’m Lady Ainseelie.” Her lips twisted with distaste. “And also because if you run off with a tiefling called Delirium, of all the gods-awfully tacky names to choose, I’m not sure I’ll want to re-inherit you.”

“I was joking!” Nadi raised her hands in a gesture of truce. “I was joking, Vey. I’m not planning on running off with a tiefling any time soon. Or getting disinherited.” She pursed her lips, expression turning bitter. “The family fortune is an excellent incentive to stay on Mother’s good side. Trust me.”

She was abruptly glad, though, that she hadn’t mentioned the Feywild, or any of the people she’d met in it, to Vey. An elf with more knives than manners, a tiefling with entirely the wrong sort of manners, a halfling in the employ of the Baba Jaga, and a half-elven bastard… She could imagine what Veyris might have said about them and, though she couldn’t say why, her sister’s imagined disapproval left her feeling– unbalanced. She’d met this bizarre group of strangers once, unwillingly, in deeply awkward circumstances, and had left with no debt towards them whatsoever. And yet…

And yet.

“Anyway,” Nadi said, her mood abruptly soured for no reason she could put her finger on. “Given I haven’t pulled a Vierayema yet, I should get ready for dinner. I guess. Brace myself for whatever new idiot Mother’s found for me. No point getting myself mildly to moderately disowned if I’m not going to do it in style.”

Veyris sighed. “Yes,” she agreed, with a tired flap of her fingers. “Go– I don’t know. Have a soak in the bath, or something.” She was familiar with her sister’s sharp tongue and mercurial temper, but that didn’t make it any less wearing to deal with – especially when she’d clearly stumbled across some conversational pitfall so well-hidden she hadn’t even known it existed. “And, Nadi? Cheer up, for the love of Bahamut. It’s a few days of dinners and parties, not a bloody death sentence.”

“Not for you, maybe,” said Nadi, darkly, but the corner of her lip twitched all the same. Veyris stuck her tongue out, and Nadi responded in kind, her poor mood lifting for a heartbeat at the childish display of fondness. “Anyway. Fuck off, Vey, I want a bath.”

“As her highness demands,” demurred Veyris, sweeping out of the bedroom door with a grace Nadi had never seen in her before. Clearly, hanging around Uncle Rhyldon had been rubbing off on her mannerisms. “See you at dinner, sister dearest!”

The door clicked shut behind Veyris before Nadi could respond. She was left standing by her desk, in silence, staring at the satchel and the stack of books upon it.

She was seized, suddenly, by the urge to push them off – to sweep everything off, the bag, the books, the papers, the quill and ink, the candles, in a single violent motion, send it all crashing to the ground. To turn it all into a ruined heap on the floor, to scream and not stop screaming–

She picked up the book atop the stack, instead, and padded absently back into to the bathroom. The muscles in her jaw and neck were so tight they hurt, a dull ache at the edge of her senses. Her shoulders were up around her ears once more, and no amount of willing would push them down again.

The bath was still hot, at least. She set the book down on the tiled bathroom floor, next to the bottle of whiskey, shedding her clothes in a graceless heap. The water burned her feet a little, as she stepped in, but she ignored it, gritting her teeth against the bite and sinking her entire body down into it until she was submerged deep enough to scream.

It was only when her lungs started to ache, oxygen-starved, that she resurfaced, gasping for air through the near-scalding water rolling down her face.

Tilting her head back until it was resting on the rim of the tub, she stuck an arm over the edge, groping for the neck of the bottle of Dwarvish whiskey. She needed a drink, clearly. Being so tense hat she was already resorting to screaming where no one could hear was a poor omen for the long weekend ahead.

No, what she needed was clearly a long soak in an obscenely hot bath, and a drink. Or two. Or three. And perhaps a chapter or two of dense arcane theory, as well. That ought to be enough to numb her to the dinner ahead, to leech the tension out of her shoulders and the building headache out the base of her skull.

Her questing fingers found the whiskey, and she grasped it, thumbing the cap off without looking. Sitting up just enough that she wouldn’t choke on it, she took a generous sip, exhaling slowly as the burn of it worked its way down her throat to the pit of her belly. The combination of heat and alcohol began turning her muscles to soft clay, and she let her eyes slip closed for a second – luxuriating in the sensation, trying to grasp at the singular moment of thoughtless peace and keep it.

The moment lingered for a heartbeat, and then it slipped through her grasping fingers, ephemeral.

Sighing in disappointment, Nadi took another sip of the whiskey, and traced the glyph for Mage Hand in the air. She murmured the activation word, and hummed satisfaction as the spectral fingers grasped the book, lifting it up over the bath and flipping to the page she’d last left off. Dense arcane theory it was, then – or rather, it was that or masturbation, and she really wasn’t in the mood.

Arranging herself a little more comfortably in the bath, the heat of the water seeping into her bones and the whiskey turning her head pleasantly numb, she exhaled slowly, and began to read.

#dungeons and dragons #original #ocs #dnd #misfit toys #(the joke here is that she just acquired a tiefling boy-toy (if you ask her)/boyfriend (if you ask the tiefling) kdjfhs)#(what could possibly go wrong...........)#god i love her........ my best girl. my asshole girl.

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