#she was gonna visit after thanksgiving

[subtlybrilliant]

I miss my dad.

I miss my aunt.

Today has been so hard.

This weekend has been so hard.

[millersfinest]

untethered⁵ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 10.6k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five (you're here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 3.0), using fuck as a conjunction word, ellie needs the reader bad, a few arguments sprinkled in, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is very anxious, hella angst, the CAT may be out the bag (can mean many things), some adoption related turmoil, emotional cheating (from ellie), cute mother daughter moment, repressed emotions, lots of angst in this chapter, ellie is mean when she don't fw you, not a lot of reader x ellie in this ngl.

note: finally the 5th installment, hope it's worth the wait my lovely readers!!! i'm gonna be honest tho... this wasn't the most fun chapter to write (maybe cause the reader and ellie aren't as horny as i would prefer lmao), but the narrative shall prosper regardless of my feelings. this may or may not be the second to last chapter of this series. idk yet, i'm still planning right nowwww. i might post a poll soon to help decide. anyway, thank you guys for being super patient while i wrote this chapter, so without further ado... thousands of bisous ofc <3 and please enjoy this angsty ass chapter!!

Stood before you was a very disappointed looking Joel. His deep brown eyes squinted with fatigue and restlessness; arms crossed over his chest. At the alert of his presence, you shut your eyes trying to come up with some way to save yourself—even though there was none. It was laugh worthy, really.  

I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.

You were unsure if his southern accent was stronger because of his disappointment, or if he just sounded like that when he was tired. But, either way, the question was valid. What the hell was going on?  

He called your name, snapping you from the rushing thoughts in your head. “Huh?” Those words came out of you more like a sound than words and letters. you were a child all over again, struggling under the fist of authority. Followed by a deep sigh, walking toward the counter, leaning your hands on the cool, smooth marble top. “Ellie and I are… Just catching up. S’all there is to it, Joel.”

He echoed a sigh, running his hand over his dark, graying hair and beard—he didn’t believe you. Not that you even tried to come up with a good enough lie that would be believable. “Now, Bug…” Joel began, shaking his head. “I know you’re not a liar; Tommy and Maria sure as hell didn’t raise you to be one—“  

“Joel, please—“

“If I heard what I think I heard… In that bedroom of yours. You and Ellie were doin’ a lot more than just catching up!” He whisper-yelled, careful not to disturb your parents upstairs. The man could barely keep eye contact with you, pointing his finger, accusingly. “She has a girlfriend who is in that guesthouse—“  

“I know, I know—“  

“Then, what the hell were you thinkin’?”  

You solemnly sigh, having your actions thrown back in your face. It sucked because he was right. “We… We have unfinished history. It just happened.”  

Joel scoffed, averting his brown eyes. “Things like that don’t just happen…”  

He was right—sex doesn’t just happen. There are steps that lead to that pleasurable event; it doesn’t just happen, and you knew that. But it was easier to say it that way. As if the two of you sleeping together, kissing each other was all acts of fate and prophecy. Something you had no control over. Even though, control was never stricken from you. If anything, you were always grasping for it.  

You chose to invite Ellie into your room, into your body, into your mind—you wanted her more than anything.  

That was something you couldn’t be sorry about.  

“Please, don’t tell my parents.” You almost squeaked out, looking up at him like a child charged with punishment. If Maria and Tommy found out about this, she’d have your head! And Tommy will be trying to talk her down—it would be a mess. At twenty-five, it wasn’t that you were afraid of your parents; you just didn’t want to disappoint them. “We need some time to figure this out…”  The fear that they would regret bringing you into their life weighed heavy on you.

With a raised eyebrow, he pursed his lips in thought. “Does Ellie plan on breaking things off with Cat?”  

“Yeah, not right away, but yeah.”  

“Not right away?”  

“Thanksgiving— she doesn’t wanna do it today with everything goin’ on. And they live together, so she has to arrange a few things…” You trail off, deepening your eyebrows with worry. “Oh, my God… Is she two-timing me? Is Ellie two-timing me?” Slapping your hands to your forehead, you squeezed your eyes shut. What the fuck. What the fuck. You repeated curses in your mind.  You were spiraling yourself into a stupor.

Joel walked around the corner, stabilizing you by placing his hands on your shoulders. “Ellie is many things, but she’s not a two-timer… All I’m saying is to handle this with caution. You’re hurting another person doing this—“  

“Fuck, Joel, I know… I don’t need the reminder.”  

“I’m gonna talk to her about this… About resolving this.”

You look at him with a pointed glare. “Resolving— there’s nothing to resolve. If everything goes according to plan—“  

He grunted, rolling his eyes. “Things like this never go to plan. Come on, Bug, you’re smarter than this… You know better.” Joel told, narrowing his eyes. He walked around the counter to you, to squeeze your shoulder. But that didn’t change the fact that his words stung.  

You know better.  

You did know better, but you acted anyway. Perhaps, it was a mistake; it was a mistake you were willing to ride on until it met its end. Which could be one of two things: complete and utter destruction, or… Happiness. Why was there such a large gap between those two endings?  

“Ellie,” He began, shaking his head, filling you with insecurity. “You know how she can be… Impulsive at times.” Joel pressed his lips into a line, looking past you, in thought. “I’m not even sure if she realizes the gravity of what she’s doing to her or you— not until it blows up in her face, which it will if you two keep it up.”

So, the both of you just had to work harder at hiding it. For now, at least.  

He rubbed his hand together, glancing his eyes up the stairs. “I won’t say anything to your parents… Just do a better job of keeping this to yourselves, please.” The older man prepared to head back up, but he looked at you one last time. “This isn’t me agreeing with what y’all are doin’— because I don’t. I don’t agree nor do I support cheating.” He exhaled, shaking his head, disappointingly. Feet nearing the steps to ascend back to his bedroom. “Just get it together.”  

Joel left you to gather your thoughts—but there was nothing to gather. Your mind was already made; you’ve already dug a hole for yourself. Seeing it through was the only option. Perhaps, the two of you had to shape up, though. Tommy even gave a side glance before you’d hopped off the porch to grab the wine; Ellie needs to be more careful. And so do you.  

Shutting out the lights, you heavily creeped back up the stairs to your bedroom. The dim bedroom that had the remnants of your lover minced in the air… And under your pillow. Grabbing your laptop from the charger, you arranged your pillows to support your back—that’s when you noticed the red and white striped boxer shorts Ellie left behind. Even though, you purposely threw them at her to put on before you parted from one another.  

Holding out the underwear that was marked with arousal, you threatened to smell it. Truly. But, before you could, your conscience got the best of you. Wasn’t it creepy to smell someone’s underwear? Let alone, a woman's... Instead, you stuffed it in the box you kept under your bed—which, very well, could’ve been worse.  

Feeling the need to tell Ellie of their pending situation with Joel, you logged onto MySpace. There was a small green circle that appeared on her icon. She was already online.  

BugsWritersRoom: Hey… Just ran into Joel. Not great.  

There wasn’t a much of a long wait before she responded.  

StarlightWilliams: duck what happened?  

StarlightWilliams: fuck*  

Her correction made you chuckle.  

BugsWritersRoom: He heard us. That’s what happened.  

BugsWritersRoom: We have to do better. Stop making everything so obvious…

BugsWritersRoom: At least, until you break up with Cat.  

There was a long pause in her responses. Longer than you’d anticipate her response would take.  

StarlightWilliams: noted.

Ellie’s response was dryer than you expected it to be, but the fatigue washing over you forbid you from investigating it.

Shutting your laptop, you nuzzled into your pillows with the auburn-haired artist on your mind. It was only right that you gave the relationship another chance; if it inevitably ends, you just hope it would be less explosive than last time. Amicable. Where the two of you could actually stand to be around each other after the fact.

If you had it your way, though, you’d never want to part from her again. It was easy to believe that Ellie was your person. Somebody who was only perfect for you. In a world of feeling nothing, she made you feel something more than lust or forced romanticism.  

When morning came, you were exhausted as fuck, to say the least. Awakened by your programmed alarm, and a blaring rooster that didn’t know how to shut the hell up after his first few yodels.  

Meandering down the stairs, you were told to speed through the morning chores, to begin help with the cooking, which you didn’t mind. However, Ellie wasn’t there for the spiel. Joel had appeared, saying that she was going to be little late. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but be struck with anxiety. Although, he looked and acted the same as he always did.

Either way, you fed the chickens, groomed, and fed the horses—and that’s when she found you. Brushing Tokyo and feeding fresh carrots to keep him entertained and focused. He was a horse who only responded to pleasantries; Tokyo was a man of high honor. “Someone’s bein’ a good horse.” Ellie cooed, approaching you and Tokyo with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans.

There was something off about her demeanor. Her shoulders were stiffened, cheeks flushed enough to insinuate an altercation. In addition to that pinched line between her thick eyebrows.  

There definitely was one, but she wasn’t going to admit that to you. Joel and Ellie were officially on bad terms—but she said nothing about that because she doesn’t want to alarm you.  

“Where were you this earlier? I thought I was helping you get in routine for your new farmhand position…” You tossed the brush aside, crossing your arms over your chest. Ellie didn’t stop walking until her body collided with yours. Hand finding a comfortable place along your jaw, preparing to pull you in toward her lips. Placing two fingers over her lips, you pull back. “What the hell are you doing?” You chuckle, looking around for any unwanted eyes.

Her hands slid down you arms, shoulder slumping. “What part of we need to do better do you not understand?” You questioned, looking intently into her dilated eyes.

Ellie ran a hand over her hair, sighing, tiredly. “What is wrong with you?” You press, deepening her eyebrows.  Suddenly feeling the need to comfort her.

The truth was, she was stressed. Joel had stressed her out. He found out about them and was pressing Ellie to tell Cat about it—or break up with her because she deserves to know the truth. But, today, Cat woke up like the happiest person alive, which was off brand for her. She showered Ellie with kisses she didn’t want and hopped up to make breakfast for them. It was weird, but she was happy; Ellie doesn’t want to ruin that. She just wanted to linger in the happiness that was the memory of your lips on hers.

“I just woke up feelin’ funky— it’s nothing…” She looked down, twisting her foot into the sprawled hay over the ground. “A kiss could help my condition, though…” Ellie raised a scarred brow, lips curling at the end.  

Pressing your lips into a line, you look over her shoulder than yours—making sure there aren’t any prying or peeving eyes. “Just one…” You mutter, pulling her close by the material of her unzipped jacket. She smirked against your lips, moving them in sync with yours.

The tenseness in her muscles loosened and relaxed under your touch, as she released a breath of fresh air against your face through her nose. Placing her soft, yet calloused hand at the curve of your jaw. Ellie made the kiss deeper by dragging her tongue against your bottom lip, begging for more—but you pulled away. She chased your lips, causing you to giggle as you turned your face. “I have a full plate this morning… I could use your help— as long as you stay focused!” You prodded your index finger at her chest. “Plus, it’ll help for when it’s just you on the farm.”

“Oh, I can stay focused.” She crossed her arms, overzealously.  

“Okay,” You snicker. “Well, why don’t we split up to cover more ground?”  

Her features fell. “Split up? Hey, I didn’t agree to splitting up.” Ellie pouted, taking a step closer to you. Playing with the frayed hem of the flannel sticking out from under your jacket.  

Splitting up was the best course of action, so you could begin helping your mother in the kitchen—because you know she needs it. Unless Cat’s planning to take your place on that front. Anyway, them splitting up could help their developing case with Joel. You want to prove to him that you’re as smart as he think you are. That you’re not blindly love struck by a destructive idea—that the words he told you meant something. And, in a way, helping Ellie with her impulsivity.  

“It’s for the best, Els. You get to put to work what you learned these past few mornings— so it’ll really stick.” You spoke, positively. “And there’s another half of the farm that you’re inexperienced with… So, it’s better if I just run through it alone.” You nod with a friendly smile on your lips. Almost too friendly.  

“Hm…” Ellie hummed, peering around the horse barn.  

“I already did half the work; the chicken’s and horses are already fed. I’m, basically, done with grooming Tokyo— just detangle his mane and tail, and do that same process with Sarah, which should be easy because she’s still a baby and barely has any hair.” You rambled like a professional farmer. It truly was muscle memory getting back into the chores.  

“Wait, what’s the process…?”  

“There’s a bucket of soap and water,” You point to the bucket at door of the horses’ space. “Use that to help with the brushing and detangling. That’s the process. Don’t worry about the horse shoes— my dad does all that.” You waved your hand, then reached into your coat to grab the notepad. Ripping the thin paper from the rings, you hand it over. “After this, all you have left is the garden. So, whenever you’re done, come find me.”  

Ellie took the note paper from your hands, plucking it with her fingers. “Uhm, if I have any questions…? What if I do something wrong?”  

You sighed, snatching the paper back from her. “Trust yourself. You’ve done this before, Ellie. But if you have any questions… Here’s my cell. I have it on me.” You scribble down your phone number, handing it back to her.  

She giggled, taking the paper back. “You just gave me your digits…” Ellie teased, dangling the page in front of you.  

“For professional purposes only.” You winked, before leaving her to finish the horse grooming.  

When you skipped away, Ellie didn’t quite know how to take your place. After finishing up Tokyo, walking him to his open space to grift along with the other horses, Sarah was next. And you failed to mention that she was a bit of runner when it came to retrieving her.  

It’s been made clear that she was already fucking up—said by Joel Miller—so, she didn’t want to fuck up the only job she had. The job you gave her.  

So, instead of moping and overthinking the words of her adoptive father, she looked to that lined notebook paper as if it were the Bible. Ellie couldn’t let you down over something as specific as farming chores. These were living beings. If she failed to do this correctly, you may never fall into her how she hoped

Meanwhile, you hustled cows and goats, hastily. Rain boots splashing into mud and manure, leaving marks along its battered rubber soles. Tucked into your back pocket, your phone began to vibrate, sounding off the ringtone of your choosing. Without glancing at the caller ID—assuming it was Ellie. You pressed the phone button.  

“Calling already?” You raised an eyebrow, while monitoring the chaotic goats around you. They were competitive eaters who’d rather trample over one another to eat their food, than stand by for their own servings. You scold them under your breath, pushing them off each other.  

“You want me to come to dinner tonight, or not?” She snickered on the other side of the line.  

“Oh, Abby, hey… Sorry that was meant for someone else— it’s been a long morning.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “Yeah, I still want you to come. What’s up?”  

Abby laughed, yawning. Did she just wake up? “When’s your family having dinner tonight— wanna make sure I’m planning accordingly.” There was raspiness to her voice that was soothing to your ears.  

Rubbing a hand over your forehead, you thought. It was basically undetermined, but you had dinner around the same time every year. Six-ish. Seven-ish. “Sometime around six, I think. What? You plannin’ on makin’ a good impression?” Pinching the phone between the side of your face and shoulder, you pulled one of the goats back from the trough by her back legs.

“Stop it, Frankie!” She bleated in response.  

“Was that a goat I just heard?”  

“No, it was Frankie— she’s worse than a goat. She’s, like, goat-fucking-three thousand— fuck! Hold on.” She placed the phone on a bucket, to stalk over to the problematic goat trying to fight her own sibling. “You’re pushing it. You are pushing it, Francine Miller!” Gripping the antlers that rose from her skull, you forced her to look at you. “This isn’t your food— that’s your food. Over there.”  

Picking her up, wrapping your arms around her stomach, you lifted her toward her own trough. That a few other goats huddled at to feast on their breakfast. “If I see you over there bothering your brothers again, I’m gon’ put you right back in that barn— don’t mess with me.”

You walked back to that bucket, picking up the small silver flip phone placed sloppily in the middle. “Sorry about that… But, yeah, sometime around six.” A tired sigh fell from your lips.  

“That southern drawl of yours… Getting stronger by the day.” She chuckled, in amusement. You heard her shuffling against cloth—perhaps, blankets and pillows.  

“The price of being around my family for too long.” You match her brief chuckle, twisting your toe into the dirt.  

“I’m certainly not complaining.” Abby commented, inhaling deeply. “Well, I’ll be there for six— unless you tell me otherwise…”  

“All right, sounds good, Abby.”  

“All right, bye, babe.”  

Babe.

The pet name made you freeze, but before you could say anything, she hung up the phone. You clenched you phone in your hand, gripping it tight enough for the blood to drain from your knuckles. Babe—since fucking when?  

A snicker caught your attention, causing you to swivel around on your toes. Her shiny, obsidian hair was tucked under a knit beanie. The medium-length blunt ends sticking out from the bottom, hanging over the shoulders of her jacket. A jacket that was sickeningly similar to one of Ellie’s—it most likely was.  

“Who’s this lucky girl… Abby?” She perked a slender eyebrow, brown eyes boring through you. Slightly squinting with taut features.  

You waved your hand before placing them on your hips. “A girl I met in the city. She’s up here with some friends— thought I’d invite her to dinner. She's the one who dropped me off the other night.” You explained, shrugging at your last word. After sleeping with her girlfriend, the least you could do was open with her.   

Cat leaned over the wooden fence, instead of coming inside. Her hands balling together in front of her body to keep her exposed skin warm. “Oh, really? What’s the status between the two of you? Since you’re… Inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner ‘n all?” She questioned, lips pressing together.  

There was something bitter in her speech that rubbed you the wrong way. But, nonetheless, you answered. “It’s complicated…” A laugh falls from your lips—fake and deceiving. “It’s been off and on for about a year— believe it or not.”  

“I believe it.” Cat chortled behind a fist. “Dating in New York is hard. People just don’t take relationships seriously anymore— I totally get it.” Her eyes rolled as she spoke, shiny lips curling at the corners.  

Awkwardly, you nod. Her tone alarming you once more. “Yeah… Well, I need to get back to this— the quicker this is over the better.”  

“Right…”  

“Are you planning on helping the parents cook, or…”  

She crossed her arms, lips frowning, slightly. “Yeah. Later, I’m helping Joel and Tommy with the steak. I’ve never really cooked steak before so… Wish me luck.” Cat chuckled, stepping back from the fence. “I’ll let you get back to work, though…” She began to walk off, after you waved, halfheartedly. Pausing in the well-kept grass, she looked over her shoulder. “Could you point me in the direction of my girlfriend? I’m sure you know where she is.”  

Hm.  

“Uh, yeah, sure— She’s either in the horse barn or the greenhouse… I would check the horse barn first.” You point towards the wooden paneled barn some meters away. My girlfriend. Did that not sound harsh? There was such diction in her proclamation for Ellie. It was an iron bar being burned into your chest, over your heart like a branding.  

She didn’t say much of a thank you, only a head nod and a wave. Leaving you standing in the same patch of mud you were standing in when she arrived. That interaction felt oddly tangy, rather than sweet—like usual. Of course, you had your doubts about Cat, but this time it felt different. So much different.

For another thirty minutes, you monitored Frankie and the other goats. Giving her a bunch of kisses to make up for your irate behavior—after all, she was behaving better; she deserved them!

Finishing your work, you didn’t realize until your stepped into the house—leaving your shoes on the porch—that Ellie didn’t call or text you about anything. She was supposed to meet you when she finished her side of the chores, but she never showed. It was too cold to wait around for her, so you trotted back to the house. And it’s not like you had her number; she had yours.  

In the back of your mind, you worried about the interaction she had with Cat. Why wouldn’t you? As the days went by, you were growing in possessiveness of someone that wasn’t even yours. She used to be, but that wouldn’t hold up in court.  

You noticed Maria working in the kitchen, working on small side dishes. Before you jogged up the stairs, you let her know that you’d be back after a warm shower. Cooking food while smelling like actual animal shit wasn’t a great mix.

Tommy had already put the television on the channel where the game was playing. The direct speech of sports anchors playing as background noise on the first floor--bouncing off the walls.  

When you walked up the stairs, you heard the soft tune of Joel strumming and tuning his new guitar from his bedroom. It soothed your ears—his playing always did. There was a song he used to play for you, and sometimes Ellie, when you were teenagers. Then, after while, she began to play it for you. Sat in the corner of your reading nook, in a t-shirt and plaid boxers (or whatever underwear she was wearing), strumming at the tough strings of her guitar. Looking into your eyes like you were unreal.

Everyone seemed to be doing something on this busy morning. And you were soon to jump right in.  

Steam opened your pores as you cleansed the dirt and grime off your skin. You attempted not to drown within your own thoughts while the showering. Echoes of your parents’ voices bounced around your mind, along with Joel’s. It was overwhelming. You feared they’d never forgive you if they found out what you and Ellie were doing—or had done. Then, there was Cat; a part of you felt bad for her. That she was getting caught in the middle of unfinished business… Clearly, your attempt at clearing your head didn’t work.  

Shutting off the shower, smelling like a happy mixture of vanilla and coconut, you wrapped yourself in a towel to walk to your bedroom. When you entered, you didn’t notice the frame of your estranged lover sitting on your bed—until you pivoted on damp feet. “Shit, Ellie… What the hell are you doing?” You gasp, clenching onto the material of the old beach towel you were using to dry off.  

Her back was facing you, eyes cast toward the paneled window of your reading nook. The auburn strands of her hair were damp, leaving marks on the shoulders and back of her grey sweatshirt.  

“She fucking knows…”  

Your eyebrows stitched together, trying to take in what the woman before you had said. Shutting your door with a sigh, you turn back around slowly. “What do you mean…?” Your voice trembled, wanting clarification even though you already knew what she meant. That hole that you dug was only getting deeper. Or, perhaps, not. It’s already reached max depth.

Ellie peered over her shoulder, the whites of her eyes unnerved. Freckled cheeks flushed to oblivion. “You PM’d me last night on MySpace…”  

“Yeah…?” You slowly approached her, shrugging your shoulders. Although, your heart was racing—beating throughout your entire body. If that was even possible.  

“When I got back to the guesthouse last night, I basically conked out, y/n.” Ellie told, finally shifting her body to see your stunned frame in its entirety. Water droplets dripping down your arms and legs; muscles tightening in anticipation.  

A hand shot over your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in remorse. If she went right to sleep, then someone else had been responding to you—and you don’t believe in ghosts. “Please, tell me you’re fucking with me.”  

She placed her head in her hands. “I wish I was…” Ellie bounced her leg, nervously. “Why the fuck would you mention anything that happened over the internet?” Her tone shifted, scolding you with the same pair of eyes that once caressed your skin with adoration.

“I had no other way to tell you about Joel. I was trying to warn you—“  

“Yeah, what a warning that was.”  

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Okay, hold on… How do you know about this? D— Did she confront you— or what?”  

She sighed. “She came and talked to me while I was grooming Sarah— Also, you forgot to mention that she doesn’t like to be brushed…!” Her round features were pulled taut, glaring at you.  

“I met her, like, once, Ellie. How would I know that she doesn’t like to be brushed?” You retorted, kicking out a leg, narrowing your eyes. “And… She’s a fucking baby. You should’ve expected that.”

“She said if I don’t admit what I did by tonight… She’s gonna fucking do it.”  

You bunched your eyebrows, shaking your head—utterly confused. “She’s gonna fucking do what? Wh— What is this, Ellie— fucking One Tree Hill?!” It was incredulous for Cat to make such a threat. Theatricals were never your choice of handling things. Hence the last time an explosive episode happened on the farm. You shut down and close off—it’s always too much!  

The auburn-haired woman’s feature slightly softened, looking up at you from her seated position.

Noticing the tensing in your body—seeing that face she swore she never wanted to see again. “Uhm, what did you say…?” You questioned, carefully with pinched lips and drifting eyes.  

“I said that I would…”  

Record scratch. Again. How many of those were you going to experience in a single week?

“Ellie—!”  

“To alleviate some of her frustration—!” She tried.

“I don’t give a fuck why you agreed to her stupid threat, Ellie— it’s the fact that you did!” You paced, squeezing the bridge of your nose. Thinking. Hard. Your voice had boomed, forgetting that the walls weren’t thick. “I will not have this random emo chick ruin the relationship I have with my parents… Because she wants to get back at you.”  

She leaned back on her hands, shrugging. “And you… She’s getting back at you, too.”  

“Seriously.” You snapped your head toward her, blinking with blossoming anger.  

“Dead serious.” Ellie held your eyes, courageously. She never liked seeing you angry, but boy, did it set her skin on fire. You were always so concerned with how people perceived you, that you avoided acting within your nature. Even though, in your truest nature, you were the most beautiful thing.  

You pointed a finger at her, strolling toward her. “Is this funny to you?”  

“Is there a smile on my face?” She retorted, looking up at you through her thick, batting lashes.

“You look amused—“  

“I am.” She simply stated, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “Because you’ve never changed, y/n. It’s always appearances with you— for everything.” You rolled your eyes at that, scoffing under your breath. What did she know? “Little-miss-perfect… Always has to do the right thing— not because she wants to, but because she wants others to notice that she does.”

Her words sounded familiar. More put together, but familiar.  

“It’s fucking pathetic, babe—“

“Get hell the out of my room.” The words came from you like a whisper with pinched lips, clenching your fists at your sides. Her and her name-calling.

Ellie stood up, chest nearly touching the towel that wrapped around you. Chest to chest. “Can you think about us for one second?” Her fingers tethered to your bare skin, dancing up your arms. “Cat’s makin’ our karma come quick— embarrassing us in front of our family. And, yeah, we did a fucked-up thing. I can admit and make peace with that because I wanna be with you.” She squeezed your shoulders, examining your tight features. Ellie reached her hand to grace your cheek, but you turned away.  

A sigh fell from her lips, pulling away from your body. “And all you can think about is your parents… What they would think?” Ellie scoffed, running her hand through her damp strands. “You’re an adult—! And you, certainly, made an adult decision to fuck me the other night— so this is your fault as much as it is mine.” She lectured. Ellie Williams was lecturing you. Oh, how the tables turn.

“Fucking stand in it.” The artist grit, pointing her finger to the ground. “That’s you’re fuckin’ problem. Always wanting to be perfect— but you’re not! Not even close.”

Tears began to build in the corner of your eyes, lips quivering at her words. Heart wrenching at her stern tone. “And I fucking love you for it…” Ellie appeared dejected, gliding toward your door. Adhering to the command you gave her: Get out. “But if your parents’ opinion weigh heavier… Fine.”  

A beat meandered through the room, while Ellie’s hand hovered over the handle.

“I realized… After Cat found me in the barn that…” She chewed on her lip. “I’m not ashamed of what we did— which is why I don’t mind telling the truth. It may be a threat for her but… it’s a release for me.”

A sob shockingly came from your throat, plopping onto your reading nook. The strength of your neck unable to hold up your head—it dropped into your hands to cover your face. “Please,” Your breath hitched, peeking through your fingers. “Ellie, please, don’t say anything. Don’t ruin tonight over something…Something fickle.”  

Fickle?

She deepened her eyebrows in offense before pulling open the door. “I’m telling them whether you like it or not. Shape up or ship the fuck out.” Ellie pushed through the door, making sure to shut it light enough not to cause a stir, but heavy enough to unsettle you further.  

To Ellie’s core, she was a pusher; a person who liked to push others—for better or for worse. Just depended on the day, and the person. Now, in her past, she’s made the mistake of pushing you into a worser version of yourself. And she almost did it again, but she revised her actions efficiently. She corrected it. Switched it around like a puzzle-piece placed in the wrong spot.  

You needed to learn how to stand in your decision—good or bad—and not cowering within them. There’s no point in begging for a person’s forgiveness once you’ve done something wrong. Accountability and apologies are all a person has. And your parents—pssh; you shouldn’t be worrying about that so much.  

Tommy and Maria loved you more than life itself, and Ellie understood why because she did, too.  

There was nothing you could do to scarlet letter your persona. Absolutely nothing.  

Even after titling the love you and Ellie embraced fickle; she could never turn her face from you— not for long anyway.  

Dragging her feet down the hall, old converse sliding against the wood, eyes watering with warm tears in the corner of her eyes; a door creaked open. An aged pair of brown eyes, pushing though the slot. “Everything all right, kiddo…?”

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. Olive eyes attempting to blink back tears at the sound of his softened, gravelly voice. Sniffling, her legs carried her toward him, wrapping her arms around his soft abdomen, tucking her head into his chest.  

Nothing came from her but soft, stressed cries. Fingers clenching onto the fabric of his flannel behind his back.

As much as this situation was a lot for you, it was a lot for her as well—just in a different way, for a different reason.

In your room, you were still on that reading nook in your towel. Your body was was dry, so the old cloth scratched and tickled your skin. It was deserving for you to be uncomfortable. Ellie was right; you were a little pathetic—for lack of better word.  

You spent so much time wanting to fix yourself. Be the best version of yourself. And that wasn’t Tommy or Maria’s fault, it was your own. When you were first adopted, sent to a new school, you had a full out meltdown. Some kid had been picking on you for being quiet, and you escalated the situation to a place that it didn’t need to go. As in: using your fists to defend yourself. From then, you were thrown into therapy and had to relearn that fighting wasn’t the answer. Maria aided that by drilling into your head that violence was something that could get you into trouble.  

So, how did the way people perceived you become such a focus? Well, Maria’s scoldings of your behavior translated in your head—along with trauma of past foster homes and neglectful parents—that what people saw of you mattered more than your own conclusions. They thought, therefore you were.  

You failed to fact-check. You failed to have a personal understanding of your own behavior. It was rare for you to make peace with your own actions—good or bad. You were always stuck on what a person would think of you; especially, your parent’s. Perhaps, there was still a part of you that felt you needed to prove that you worth caring for. Worth supporting. 

That pressure continues and continues and continues to shove your head underwater no matter how many times your flail and beg for air.  

It was obnoxious. It is obnoxious. You’re obnoxious.  

Love isn’t conditional. It’s a feeling that tethers people to one another despite anything. Despite flaws and self-guilts—it perseveres. That concept shouldn’t be difficult to grasp because, after all Ellie had said on that one unfaithful afternoon, you still loved her. You loved her at seventeen, and you love her at twenty-five. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change.  

And the same applied for your parents to you.  

It was fucking physics and you were a prodigal humanities student who looked at STEM in contempt.

Solemnly, you dressed into a pair of comfy clothes. Attempting to replace the frown that stuck to your lips, although your body was already weakened from your emotions. Surprisingly, a cigarette couldn’t cure your overthinking mind—not this time. There was no point in pulling from one.  

After squeezing eye drops into your eyes to eliminate the irritated veins in your sclera’s, you stomped down the wooden stairs. When your mother noticed you, she smiled. Her sparkling white teeth glimmering in your eyes—warm and kind. “Ellie and Joel are gonna be baking the pie at the guesthouse… So, the kitchen is ours.” Maria chuckled to herself, kneading the dough for her legendary biscuits.  

“I know how much you hate overcrowded kitchens…” You respond, grabbing the apron with your nickname stitched on the front—Bug. She did a double take, looking from the dough in her hands. Noticing that unfortunate look on your face, and that blandness in your tone.  

Maria sighed, setting the dough aside, leaning her flour covered hands against the counter. “Not you, too… What the hell is in the air today?” She shook her head, averting her eyes to you with intensity. “What’s goin’ on with you— Ellie had just come down here with that same look on her face.”  

“What look?”  

“That look.”  

You pressed your lips into a line, looking around in thought. It was easier to lie and say something unrelated but that was fruitless idea. So, you said nothing, walking over to the cornbread she left out to begin working on the stuffing.  

Raising an eyebrow, she followed you with her icy irises. She then called you your full name, which sent chills down you spine.

You sucked your teeth, meeting her stern eyes. “Ellie and I had sex…” You mutter, peering down to your shaking hands.  

“What…?”  

It was difficult to say aloud to your mother, but that the rest came behind swiftly. “And Cat found out because I had a run-in with Joel— he heard, and I wanted to let Ellie know… So, I private messaged her on MySpace, but turns out, she wasn’t the one responding to me; Cat was.” You puffed air from your lips. “This morning, she came by to ask where Ellie was, so I told her she was in the horse barn. Come to find out, she confronted her, threatening to air all of our shit out to you and dad and Joel as a consequence.”

“Tommy, get in here.” She asserted to her husband focused on the television, keeping her wide eyes on you.

Another sigh came from you, watching as your father navigated into the kitchen. “After my shower, Ellie was in my room and that’s when she told me. We got into it a little bit… Uhm, because she told me that she was gonna tell y’all that we slept together and that pissed me off— because why would she do that?” You scoff, not noticing the glances your father was making to your mother as you unloaded this heavily detailed bundle of information. “How could she be so quick to admit that we had sex to our family that has known us since we were children? That we committed fucking adultery while her girlfriend was only, like, ten meters away—“  

“Honey,” Tommy tried, but you held up a finger.  

“Let me finish.” Your eyes welled with tears, looking at your fathers aging features. “I couldn’t understand how she was so okay with it, but, now, I do. I think I do…” You glance between the two people hovering around you. “The only reason why I came up with the idea— yeah, I’m the one who came up with it… To hookup. Sue me— was because I wanted to see if what was happening between us was real. And it fucking was!”  

“I know what we did was wrong. I knew it was wrong when I decided to go through with it… I begged Ellie not to say anything— which is ironic considering I’m the one talkin’.” You chuckled, wiping a warm tear that slipped from your eyes. “I was afraid of what you guys would think of me. That you wouldn’t love me anymore because of what I did— because you didn’t raise a liar…” Pausing, you released a shaky breath. “Verbatim: she told me to shape up… Or ship the fuck out. I chose the latter because… You didn’t raise a coward either.”  

They blinked at you.  

“I love Ellie. I really do, and yeah, we should’ve gone about this differently— but we didn’t. And I’m sorry.” Curtly, you nodded your head, adjusting your shoulder to stand up straighter. “I’m so grateful that you guys are my parents— you chose to be here and support me. The least I can do is be honest with you. Even if that results in your disappointment.”  

The tears had dried up in your eyes sometime amid your ramble of humility. Confidence growing with every word that you spoke. Ellie’s words rang through your skull about your consistent jig of morality. Fuckup’s don’t make you nor should they break you.  

Shit happens!

Their quietness made you tremble out of that shell of confidence you manifested, making you breathe a little heavier and feel a little more uncomfortable within your skin. You watched as they looked at each other. Maria sporting a mixture of concern and disappointment on her features—more disappointment than concern. And, Tommy, the complete opposite.  

“You know, what? I’ll let you two… Sit on this.” You walk past them, toward the fridge. In the door, there was both glass bottles and cans of beer—Miller Lite and Heineken. You grabbed the green glass bottle by the neck, “I’m gonna have a beer…” Walking toward the back door with horse barn on your mind.  

It was like a weight lifted off your shoulders after you confessed. Being honest with your thoughts about the whole situation made you feel lighter—feather allowing the wind to guide her, type of light. It was freeing to stand in her truth.

The cool breeze of autumn bit at your exposed arms, and the sliver of skin between the hem of your top and the hip line of your sweats. But because you were riding on the high of your confession, you didn’t feel the chill. You never were much of a beer person—it never made sense for you to drink. Yeast was never your thing, but after your confession, you had a craving for it. The beer, not so much the yeast. You overcame something big—you cried yourself into a new you. A better you.

And not that surface-better person you were trying or pretending to be.  

When you arrived at the barn, you didn’t forget to pet the grazing horses near you before entering. Remnants of Ellie’s work lingered around, but there was no sight of her. Perhaps, it was for the best. Reaching for one of the bridles hanging on an iron hook, you used the belt to pluck off the tin cap that topped the bottle.  

Settling in scattered hay, you plopped onto the ground, taking a large sip. Gritting your teeth at the flavor—still, wasn’t much of a fan. Although, she lingered close to her mother, Sarah began to drift toward you. Curiosity ruling her developing brain. You reached out to her, scratching the short tufts of her blonde hair.  

She leaned into your hand, huffing air from her nostrils. It made you smile, her comfortability with you after knowing her for such a short time. “Oh, Sarah…” You sighed, wistfully.  

From behind her, in the distance, you see your mother’s figure approaching you. You take in a nervous breath, preparing for her, potentially, harsh words.  

Maria’s boots crunched along the sprawled hay, taking her time to sit beside you. Leaning her against the same wooden wall you did. She ran her hand through her short blonde hair, sighing as her shorter pieces of her hair fell right back into place. “If…” She began, thoughtfully. “I’ve ever given you a reason to think that I— we could ever stop loving you, y/n; that was my mistake. I wanna start there. Out of everything that you said in there… That’s what disappointed me most.”  

Your eyes flicker to hers, briefly. Sarah had retreated back towards her mother. “Yeah, I must admit… I don’t wanna see my daughter, my kid, doing something worth regretting— no parent wants to see that.” She shook her head, glancing back at the horses. “And, yes, I am disappointed that you did something of this nature… But I know your heart, honey.” Maria reached her hand to your bent knee, caressing with her thumb.  

The heat in your cheeks and eyes increased with emotion. “I’ll never forget that look on your face when we surprised you with those papers.” She smiled at the memory, and you leaned into her as if it were muscle memory. “You were… Relieved. And, from that day forward, Tommy and I promised to do right by you. To love you how you deserved to be loved— to prove that you deserved to be loved despite what the world had already managed to convince you.”  

You wrapped your hand around the one on your knee while tears dripped from the corners of your eyes. “You think something like this would change my mind?” She looked down at you leaning her shoulder.  

“Yeah… I guess…” You insecurely blinked at her. Feeling like the very thirteen-year-old she was referencing.  

The blonde woman shook her head, placing a hand on your cooling cheek. “Well, that’s the farthest from the truth, Bug.” Her lips plotted against your forehead, comfortingly. “Your father and I will love you until we’re cold in the ground—“  

“Mom, don’t say that.” You whined, sniffling.  

“Probably, beyond that—“  

“Mom!”  

She snickered, peeling the beer from your fingers, and taking a sip for herself. “I don’t know how they tolerate this stuff.” Maria grimaced, shaking her head, setting it aside. “So… What’s the course of action now that everybody knows this big secret?”  

You pull from her, leaning your head against the wall. “I don’t know…” You sighed, shutting your eyes. “Ellie is pissed at me—“  

“For…?” She perked a slender eyebrow.  

“Because… I called our situation fickle to get her to not say anything, but clearly, that didn’t work.” You shook your head. “I guess, I’m the impulsive one now.”  

Maria hummed. “Looks like you have a lot to clear up.”  

You inhaled, peering at her. “Looks like it.” With another breathy sigh, you shook your head.

“Fuck, and Cat.” You slapped your hand against your forehead.

“Ah. You know, she has every right to be upset?”  

“Of course, I do. But, to be fair…”  

“Nope—“  

“Ellie came up here to get away from her— that’s what she told me!”  

Your mother scolded you, calling you by your full name—because that was her super power. But, you ignored her, sitting up straight to prove your point. “She was living in the biggest, most creative city in the world and felt crowded? How does that make sense?”  

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Maybe… Maybe this is what they needed.” You shrugged.  

Maria stood to her feet, offering you a hand. “Let’s not get caught up in the little details— you have some apologizing to do.”  

“Ugh! I know, I know…” You took her hand, hopping to your feet. She bent down, picking up the beer bottle by the throat.

“But before that, you need to cover up those arms, and get to work in that kitchen— because, we have guests.” As your mother ushered you back into the house, you dragged your slippers against the ground, finding your way back inside the house with a newfound comfort.

Almost an hour earlier, the guesthouse was bluntly silent. Nothing but the slight huffing of Joel kneading dough and the crunching of breadcrumbs from Ellie. There wasn’t much conversation; only the actions of their priorities fr dinner. Cat had locked herself in the bedroom, probably, plotting her next attack.

Joel made a point to keep his eyes on Ellie—and Cat—to make sure nothing crazy happened. Cheating situations made people a little tense at times.  

“So… Ellie, what song are you planning on playin’ tonight?” He tried, beginning to roll out the dough; flat to place in the round tin pan.  

She sighed, glancing at him with a dismissive glare. “I’m not playin’ tonight…”  

“Come on, it’s tradition—“  

“Fuck, tradition! I’m not doing it. Can we move on?”  

He huffed, placing the wooden roller on the floured counter. “I think you need to cut her some slack, kiddo. She didn’t mean to—“  

“I don’t care what she meant—“  

“Can you let me finish?” He raised an eyebrow, pointing an index finger that was caked with white flour. Ellie bunched her lips together, rolling her eyes. “Now, Ellie, I know you’re upset with y/n, with how the situation panned out— I get it. But don’t let your frustration cloud your judgement.” He told. “I spoke to her long before you did. I don’t believe for a second that she truly thinks that your relationship is fickle.”  

He inhaled, scratching the back of his neck. “Sometimes we say things that we don’t mean— I’m sure you know about that.”  

She ran her tongue over her lips, tapping her foot against the floor. Thinking back to a few years ago when she exploded on Joel and you. Ellie was good for that—saying things she didn’t mean. “I mean, I’ve said a few things to Tommy in my day.”  

“Joel…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if it’s that alone— I…” Ellie struggled to verbalize, gesticulating with her hands and fingers as words attempted to materialize behind her teeth. “She’s always choosing her parents over me— over everything and everyone. Really, it’s doing her a disservice—“  

The artist began to rant like her life depended on it. Of course, in a low enough tone where her girlfriend in the other room couldn’t hear. Joel just watched a listened, as her features contorted with annoyance. But, within her big, earthy eyes, Ellie told on herself. Her claims didn’t come from hatred, or even contempt—it came from her adoration of you.  

In the corner of the room, relied the piece she’s been working on since the day of her arrival, or rather, the night of. It was no longer covered with a white, paint-stained sheet. Her work had been exposed to the light due to a quick argument between her and Cat before Joel came to save the day. It was a colored-in image of you in front of that old shed. A joint rested between your index and middle finger with a look of relaxation was on your smoothly stroked features. Ellie made sure to depict you in your most comfortable state.  

If only he could see her sketch book.  

“Ellie, you have to break up with her.”  

She paused, mid-sentence. “What?”  

“Matter of fact, you need to break up with Cat— now.”

Uncomfortably, she shifted on her bare feet. “But… The pie…”  

He chortled, averting his eyes to the art piece at the corner of the room. “Priorities, Ellie. Priorities.” Joel leaned his hip against the marble counter. “Go in there, break up with her— as kindly as you can. Then, offer to drive her to the train station. If she declines, insist. If you go now, you should make it back before dinner. You know Maria will have a cow if you’re late.”

Briefly, she thought to herself. Ellie was never the type to be afraid of confrontation—she may have hesitated a few times… But she was never afraid. She never expected her actions to be thrown into her face so quickly, though. The memory of Cat approaching Ellie in that barn sent chills down her spine, because she had an inkling that something was wrong the minute she had appeared. Her dark brown eyes were squinty and boring through her as she approached. At first, Ellie didn’t notice Cat’s slender frame walking up to her—as she were hyper-focused on tending to the small, blonde-haired foal.

They have been together for nearly a year, so of course, the freckled artist knew when she was truly upset. Cat was a woman of subtly, despite her tattoos and silver piercings. Her anger pressed through with an even tone, and a stiff posture; rather than, expression through loud voices and firm fist curls. They are polar opposites in that way. That is what originally attracted Ellie to her—but in that moment, she shivered.

It was like whiplash, comparing how she woke up to how she appeared in front of Ellie in that moment. Making her wonder, if that happy act was all lie? It most certainly was.

Cat somehow surpassed a level of straightforwardness that Ellie was comfortable with, telling her exactly how it was: Why she made breakfast for her this morning, the MySpace conversation (why she pretended to be her), her certainty of her infidelity, and the official threat that set everything off the rails. Easily, her intention was to embarrass Ellie and you. She sensed the timidness that you hid behind and wanted to use it against you. She assumed, based off the history between you and Ellie, that the only way for Ellie to be affected is to make an example of you. However, she imagined that it would be more difficult for her girlfriend to confess her actions first.

You weren’t particularly obvious with what happened between the two of you, but she would have to be stupid to not assume that it was a sexual thing. But when Cat approached Ellie with the statement: You told me you were going on a run. She didn’t expect to be met with immediate truth. Her olive eyes had grown wide for only a second, before words began to just flood from her like an open dam. Ellie couldn’t stop herself.

Perhaps, it was the complaints of you echoing in her head. Your fervent concerns about going back to Cat—it made her feel guilty; so, she confessed as if she were bribed to tell the truth and was content with the consequences. All the while, brushing the soft, blunt hairs of Sarah.

Ellie assumed that was why Cat made a threat to support her dominance. That made her hesitate a bit—admitting to her family that her and an old flame, that ended horribly in their teenagerhood, had secret sex in the middle of the night? Despite having a girlfriend—who could ever do such a thing?

Apparently, Ellie.

Straightening her shoulders, she didn’t back down, though. She took full accountability for her behavior, claiming that she would be the one to tell them what she did—although, she did find that to be dramatic. It wasn’t until Ellie was checking off the chores list in the garden, when she realized her fate had a drastic connection to you.

You weren’t the type to stand tall in defeat or mistake. When the things you did wrong were brought to you, you quivered and coward away because it made you feel more than you preferred. Faulty. It made you want to sequester—the total opposite of Ellie.

She could never forget how you hid away after the fight on her seventeenth birthday. You didn’t go to school for a week. Ellie offered to bring you schoolwork, like the waving of a white flag, but you declined—or, rather, your parents declined. One of your academic friends made visits to the farm every day to give you the missing work. For a moment, after not hearing from you, Ellie thought you moved abroad or something. You were the closest thing to a true hermit.

That worried her because this is the last thing you’d ever want to admit, and it was Ellie’s fault. She may not have felt a lick of regret for loving on you like she used to, but she felt bad for putting you in a situation you couldn’t seamlessly get out of. It was a nightmare to see you flail, but the only way out is through. Ellie learned that a long time ago. Maybe, it was your turn to reassess that motto.

The only way out is through.

So, Ellie made her way to the bedroom they shared, knocking before she entered.

Cat had her back propped up against the wooden headboard; a pair of headphones covering her pierced ears as she typed on her own computer. Her bags were packed and ready in the corner of the room—that’s what she spent her time doing this morning… Packing her bags. When she wasn’t issuing theatrical threats. That’s already one concern out the window. She was ready to ship out. When she noticed Ellie, her soft features fell.

“You’re already packed…” She acknowledged, rocking on her bare feet. Cat removed her headphones with a sigh. “Let me take you to the train station—”

“Before you tell your family that you boldly cheated on your girlfriend? I don’t think so.” She dismissed, tilting her head to the side. “If this is your way of getting out of—”

Ellie groaned, slapping her hands against her thighs. “I’m not trying to get out of anything, Cat. I just don’t want you paying a fucking grand to get back into the city.”

“What do you care?” Cat challenged, setting her laptop aside. “Hm? You told me that I had nothing to worry about. That’s what you said… Turns out that was a stupid fucking lie.” She ground out, pressing her lips into a disappointed line. A cruel laugh came from her, while she shook her head in disbelief. “And now, you’re saying you care about how much I’m spending to get back home? Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m not. It’s the least I could do—”

“No… The least you could’ve done was not fuck y/n—that’s the least you could’ve done.” The scorned woman argued, meeting her eyes with intensity. “I’m not going anywhere until I see the looks on Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s faces when they find out what the two of you did— I have a feeling it’ll be memorable.”

The freckled artist found her attitude to be draining, even if it was sensical for her side of things. Her fingers rubbed between her eyebrows. A raspy sigh fleeing from her throat. “Look, I get you’re upset, Cat. But dontcha’ think you’re doing, I don’t know, too much?”

“You think this is too much?”

“Uh, yeah, I do. I said I’d tell ‘em what happened— that should be enough for you.”

Scoffing, she threw her legs over the mattress. “You expect me to believe the woman who cheated on me? How didn’t I know you were this idiotic before?” Cat scoffed, dryly.

She deepened her eyebrows at the insult, gritting her teeth. “You know, what? I’ve been really struggling to keep my mouth shut… But, clearly, there’s no point.” Ellie huffed, blinking her eyes. Perhaps, it was time for her to know the truth on why Ellie wanted to go home for a while. Her stiff words got Cat’s attention, causing her to narrow her dark eyes. “That whole thing about me having a hard time in the city with my art— yeah, that was because of you, not because of fucking Brooklyn.” The woman admitted, releasing the tension in her shoulders. “Truth is, your endless support did nothing but drag out my lack of inspiration—you made it worse! What I needed was to get out of that goddamn apartment, not get out of the city.” She continued, pacing around the room. “From the moment I saw her… Inspiration fucking flooded my psyche— all I could see was her. Her face. Her voice. Her body. She did more for me in second than you ever did for me in the year we’ve been together.”

She ran a hand through her hair, scoffing. A boyish smirk spreading onto her plush lips. “Who’s the fuckin’ idiot now?” Ellie muttered, flickering her earthy eyes toward her shocked expression.

A beat plotted in the environment, feasting on the spreading tension in the room.

That was mean; she matched her cruelty and then some. Ellie shouldn’t have, but she was only human. A human who just made her girlfriend—sorry, ex-girlfriend—cry. Her thin eyebrows pushed into a harsh furrow, tears streaming shown her flushed, hot cheeks. Her fingers danced in front of lips, trying to keep her sorrowful whines from being heard. It wasn’t working. Cat cried like a hurt dog, stuffing her face in her hands at Ellie’s restriction of consolation.

With crossed arms, Ellie looked down at from across the room. Family was one of the most important things to her. Despite her youthful, abrasive attitude, Joel decided to contractually tie himself to her—her adoption. But, even before then, she’s been a divine part of the Miller family. They meant a whole lot to her, you, more so. The fact that she was so willing to draw a wedge between the lot of you… Frankly, it disgusted her. It was repulsive.

“You have every right to be upset. I can’t take that from you.” She let up, lifting her eyebrows. “If anything… What I do regret is pulling you along this far out of convenience. To be honest—”

“Haven’t you been honest enough? Fuck, Ellie.” Cat blurted, peeking over her shoulder.

Her feelings might have been hurt; a simmering flame awaiting the impulsive pressure of Ellie’s old converse. The auburn-haired woman sighed, taking a seat on the bed. Away from Cat, not only to convey her sincerity in her processing words, but to respect Cat’s wired emotions. “I’ve kept enough from you, kitty Cat. My honesty is my apology…” Ellie casted her down-to-earth irises to the side of Cat’s face. When she turned to meet Ellie’s eyes, her smudged eyeliner and mascara became a spectacle. “And my good-bye…”

Cat scoffed in pure offense. “You do not get to break-up with me when you’re the one who fucked up.”

“Well, if you wanna be the one to call it… Then, feel free.”

“No!” She grit her teeth, more tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to break up with you…” Her lips quivered.

Ellie chortled, leaning her palm into the mattress. “Uhm, one of us is gonna have to do the breaking, Cat.”

They apparently have walked themselves into an impasse. To make a decision, or to not make a decision—that was the question. The response, the answer, was far simpler than Cat was making it, though.

Sighing, the freckled artist looked to the side. Ellie could use this to her advantage—getting her on that train back to the city. “You don’t have to right now…” She began to offer. “How about you mull it over on the way to the train station? I still don’t mind driving you there.” Her fingers fiddled with themselves, hoping she’d finally accept her invitation to leave.

She looked at her frowning, blinking away her tears. “Fine…” Cat stood to her feet, wiping her makeup-stained cheeks with the backs of her hand. “Why don’t you be a doll and bring my bags to the truck. It’s the least you could do.” Before Ellie could respond, she walked into bathroom and locked herself behind the door.

Releasing a long breath of relief, Ellie got up from the bed. As silently as possible, she pumped her fists into the air. Cat was leaving with only a little bit of resistance. That whole dramatic scene she was hoping for wasn’t happening—thank God!

Ellie stuffed her feet into her sneakers, before grabbing her rolling luggage and bag, hoisting the large purse over her shoulder. She left the bedroom, eyeing Joel on her way out. He was covered in flour and sugar, like the chef that he aspired to be. She gave him a thumbs up on the way out the door, snickering to herself.

Joel clapped his hands, forgetting about the flour stuck to his hands. It puffed into the air and down his throat, causing him to obnoxiously cough—away from the food developing in front of him. “Goddamn,”

Ellie peeked her head inside, pushing the luggage to the side on the small wooden porch. “Please, survive until I get back. Wouldn’t want another tragedy on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, shut it, Ellie.”

She snickered again; her mood instantly heightened. However, as she maneuvered off the porch, her eyes caught sight of you and your mother. Maria’s arms were around you, guiding you toward the house. You didn’t have a jacket on and sported a pair of slippers—you weren’t dressed for the brisk afternoon air, dragging your feet against the ground. Ellie had stopped in her tracks. Shoes crunching on bumpy gravel. She couldn’t help but wonder what led you out the house. Was it her? Did she unnerve you so bad that you ran away from the warmth of the house?

Also, did you mean what you said when you used fickle as a description of your relationship with Ellie? Boy, did she have so many questions. This ball was filled with kinetic energy, rolling as it should have. She was just going to have to keep the momentum of its roll. For how long? The inspired artist didn’t know—but what she did know, was that she had a woman to make hers again.

This time, in a sustainable way, instead of a chaotic one.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple , @elliewilliamsblunt , @goddessofchaosss , @mikellie , @emmanetalias , @sevyscoven , @lluvbk

[orphicsun]

could you do a part two to the pit fighter vi fic where vi has a spit kink…pretty please😼

Part two hip hip hooray!! this one probably isn’t as delicious as the first I apologize, I’m allergic to writing good sequels

Content: 800 words, Pit fighter Vi and fem! waitress reader, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), spit play, quickie in the bathroom🐱, Vi calls you cupcake you can interpret that little bit of info however you want, getting stuffed like a turkey happy thanksgiving

After that insane night, you and Vi became regular fuck-buddies.

It wasn't always when she was drunk after fights. Sometimes, she would slide into the kitchen while you were on your break and pull you into the staff bathrooms for quickies. She called you her "good-luck charm." You found yourself growing more and more wanting of her attention, always quick to her table when she visits after fights and feel her hot touch over every inch of your skin. Even in your dreams, you could feel her hands over the fat of your ass, her saliva branded over your navel from the countless times her mouth trailed down it, the bruises all over your thighs from her bites, and even the scent of alcohol filling your nostrils, haunting you when she isn't around.

As you fucked more and more, it was clear that she had some insane kinks. She loved fucking several orgasms out of your poor pussy; she couldn't help it. You looked all used up and still somehow all shy after. It made her heart jump.

One thing Vi really, really liked about you was that you were so sensitive to everything she does, and she could really do anything she wanted to you. You would just take it, even if your knees were buckling and there were tears in your eyes from the intensity of her actions.

Vi has you on the bathroom sink with your legs spread wide open, her tongue deep inside your soaked hole. This was just the thing - Vi tells you to bark, you bark. She tells you to jump, you ask how high. You’re wrapped around the girl’s fingers quite literally. She gives you the best sex, and you can't complain.

She shoves two fingers deep into your pussy and watches as your legs quiver, “fuck you take everything I give you so easily.”

Vi is absolutely mesmerized. You look like an erotic painting even in such a vulgar context with your fingers grasping as her hair, pulling her up so you can kiss her. Your cheeks are rosy and your lidded eyes seem to squeeze shut every time her fingers curl inside you. Your hair is plastered in sweaty tendrils on your forehead, messy strays sticking up. Her lips meet yours in a searing kiss before she breaks away.

“Open wide.” The command is laced with sweetness, but you’re too dumbed down by how warm her touch is that you only offer up a moan in return.

Vi sighs, grabbing your lips and parting them. “C’mon, stick your tongue out.”

“P-Please, Vi, I just need you to-"

“Stick your fucking tongue out or I will stop right here and now, cupcake.”

Your tongue quickly peeks out of your mouth, and Vi doesn’t hesitate to deliver a glob of her spit onto it.

“Swallow.” As she demands, she adds another finger, stretching you full of her digits.

You can’t process all of it; the sensation of her fingers drilling deep inside you, the taste of her saliva fills your taste buds, and all you can do is quickly swallow what she’s offered you with a grateful little whine.

Vi’s lips are back on yours, her tongue parting them to feel yours. You kiss her like she’s gonna disappear, tasting her once more and you can’t hold on much longer.

Her mouth doesn’t waste time returning to your clit, suckling on the soft bud and only bringing you tumbling to the orgasm you have been desperate for. Your juices coat her fingers up to her knuckles and she is now taking everything you have to offer her. Every wave of your orgasm is like a new firework being lit and launched up into the air, crackling and fading before the next hits you.

When it finally ends, Vi is breathlessly leaning into your body, as flushed as you are. Your ass is practically in the sink now and the whole restaurant definitely heard you two, but all you can think about is how soft you are for this black-haired woman to the point that if she spits into your open mouth, you accept is so graciously and if she fills every crevice of your cunt, all you will do is plead and beg for her to own you.

Even in her brash behavior, she still cares about you. Vi plants a soft kiss on your neck, not a bite or a sloppy smooch, but just a kiss. She then moves back to your lips and covers them with hers from the corner of your mouth to your bottom lip, her lips swollen and hot but so affectionate and somehow sweet, despite the relationship the two of you have.

You completely forgot about the burgers you were supposed to bring to table three like, 15 minutes ago.

[sugawarassoulmate]

no nut november - nov 20

they put up a good fight but still couldn't make it...

(peachy had a very busy month so we're gonna ignore that this is late bc she wanted to finish it 😤)

farmer!ushijima & best friend!iwaizumi

word count: 330 & 531

cw: fem!reader, fingering, mutual masturbation, dubious consent (ushi and reader are drunk), infidelity (kind of), minors dni

farmer!ushijima

it might just be the alcohol in ushijima's veins telling him this isn't a bad idea but you're looking pretty in the dimly lit alley

he doesn't drink often but he'd thought he'd treat himself for a few at the bar after harvesting the last of his fall crops

it was a good season, one that exceeded his expectations, leaving him completely prepared for the cruelty of winter

you were already two shots in when you saw him, quickly challenging him to a drinking game and, uncharacteristically, ushijima accepted

and now the two of you are pawing at each other behind the saloon, ushijima's fingers already down your pants

and his fingers are so thick, filling you up more than your smaller digits would ever allow

"toshiii," you groaned, humping against his hand

you completely forgot about the stupid bet you made with your friends on a visit to the city last month

you were sure you could last the whole 30 days - you were single and aside from the occasional flirty jokes with a usually oblivious ushijima, there wasn't anyone else you were interested in

but now you're reaching into his jeans to pull his cock out

you're both gasping and breathing heavily into each other's mouths, desperate to get off

it feels nice to have ushijima, a massive, stoic man, groan with every flick of your wrist

you want him to cum first but once his thumb starts circling your clit, you don't stand a chance

even in the pleasure of your orgasm, you have enough sense to take care of ushijima, stroking him as the bliss racks through your body

within a few seconds, you can feel the warmth of his cum coating your hand

the two of you clean up as best as you can when ushijima mumbles, "sorry that you lost your game."

you can't help cracking up, finding it hilarious that he remembered the drunken conversation the two of you had earlier that night

best friend!iwaizumi

"uh huh," iwaizumi says, mindlessly tapping away at his controller. "no, you're so right, i can't believe he did that."

you're calling him again to complain about your boyfriend again

it was some stupid argument about whose family you were spending thanksgiving with - iwaizumi couldn't really care

"and then he just tells me to 'do whatever i want,' can you believe that?" you scoff

"no that's terrible, such a dick move," iwaizumi drones on, all of his focus on the game he's playing at the moment

every other week, you call up iwaizumi to have the same conversation with him - how much your boyfriend pissed you off and you want to break up

and, being the good friend that he is, iwaizumi lends his ear to listen (and his dick to comfort you after a breakup)

"i'm so done, he can spend thanksgiving alone. and the rest of his life for that matter," you huff but your threats hold no weight when the two of you are constantly getting back together

"can i come over? i don't want to be alone..." you ask after a few beats of silence

without thinking, iwaizumi agrees and you quickly end the phone call with a "okie dokie!! see you soon!"

it doesn't hit him for a few minutes but he suddenly remembers that he, oikawa, matsukawa, and hanamaki were doing that stupid no nut november thing again

you and your boyfriend seemed to be doing fine the whole month so and it wasn't like iwaizumi had any other prospects - not that he wanted any

but with you coming over (and being freshly single) there was no way he'd be able to keep his streak going

but iwaizumi is more disciplined than that and the two of you have been friends way before this weird....arrangement went down

he knows how to keep it in his pants and he can resist you no matter how hard you try

iwaizumi hajime is an idiot

it took less than half an hour for his dick to end up inside you

"fuck, haji, just like that!"

it was so embarrassing—your panties pushed to the side and iwaizumi's sweats scrunched only halfway down his legs

neither of you had enough patience to actually take the other's clothes off, like the moment was fleeting and could be ripped away at any time (and most of the time it felt that way)

"feels good? that's why you keep coming back, huh?" he grunts, pulling you into a kiss

you bite your lip, not wanting to admit that he was right but iwaizumi pins you to the mattress, plunging his cock deeper inside your cunt, forcing guttural moans from you

"not gonna admit it? that's fine, i already know, baby," he says, laughing when you cum around him

he follows soon after, not bothering to pull out cause he knows you enjoy the feeling of him filling you up

iwaizumi rolls off of you, taking a second to stare up at the ceiling. he knows the others will rip into him when they find out

reaching for his phone, he decides to get it over with before he helps you clean up.

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[kumkaniudaku]

Peace and Quiet

Summary: Terry spends a summer day with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Blood, and Injury

The worst had come for Deidra Richmond and the Richmond family. 

Months of doctor’s visits leading to long hospital stays full of machines that beeped incessantly to taunt any who found enough courage to visit Catherine Alexander slowly devolved into a grim diagnosis, rapidly declining health, hospice care, and, finally, the end. At 75 years old, Catherine transitioned to a realm beyond the physical to suffer no more from the pain of late stage breast cancer. She passed away with her loved ones standing beside her bed, oscilating between laughter and painful wailing until the sounds became one. 

Terry watched his mother crumple into a mess of tears from the doorframe before turning away to entertain his twin sisters who couldn’t quite piece together what was happening with grandma. He could though. He knew exactly what’d happened to grandma. He’d never hug her neck again and hear his nickname, Peanut, come in her wonderful high-pitched Southern drawl. She wouldn’t make him another double chocolate cake for Thanksgiving or gift him sneakers for Christmas. All of her birthday cards were no more. Monetary gifts for good grades became relics of a time before his first dose of grief nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. Grandma was gone. 

A full day of crying and consoling two ten year olds clinging to their big brother quickly became a dizzying week full of people parading in and out of the Richmond household. Routine condolences became like nails on Terry’s mental chalkboard. Yes, he knew how much his grandma loved him. No, he didn’t know where he mother wanted the follower. He didn’t want to be strong. He wouldn’t be okay. He just wanted to be left alone and released from walls closing in one him with every unwanted hug and request to help type the funeral program. 

Patrice offered to come over on day two. She could sense his heavy heart over the phone when he called to break the news and ask if her mom knew how to make a good potato salad because his aunt was still barred from making the dish for their family after the last debacle. 

“Yeah, she does,” Patrice answered, hoping he could hear the sympathy in her voice. “I could bring some by if you wanna taste.” 

Terry sighed and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Actually, can I come over there instead?”

He didn’t stay long for his first visit. Rosalyn offered the boy with a forlorn smile and tired eyes a healthy helping of her special dish and he picked his way through it, too sad to say anything but a quiet “thank you” and ask if she minded making more for the repast. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.” Rosalyn didn’t need Patrice’s pleading to convince her. Terry was just as much one of her children as Patrice and Junior. 

Mournful silence followed the pair out to the driveway as they prepared to part ways and agree on the what time Patrice should meet at Terry’s house to accompany him to the funeral. 

He stopped short at his truck’s driver’s side and leaned against the door to face Patrice. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want, Treece. It just gonna be a bunch of people crying and actin’ like they ever came to see her when she was sick.” 

“Stop sayin’ that, TJ,” Patrice admonished. “If you’re going, I’m going. So I’ll have my mama drop me and the food off at 10, okay?” 

“Yeah.” Passing cars swept Terry’s murmured response into their cacophony of sounds. Eyes committed to counting the pebbles beneath his feet finally looked up to ask the question clawing at his throat, itching to break free. “Can I…come back tomorrow?” 

It was then, with the summer sun high in a cloudless sky, that Patrice could see the faint pink hue coloring the whites of his eyes. Tears shed in private and a burden far too heavy for a child brought to light without a word spoken between them. She didn’t draw attention to her discovery or reach out to pull his shoulders into a tight hug in the only window of unsupervised time they’d had all day. 

Instead she nodded and answered plainly. “Come here whenever you want.” 

Patrice didn’t ask either of her parents for their blessing. She didn’t consult them for permission or even alert them to Terry’s intention to use their home as his escape pod. When Rosalyn found him sulking at the kitchen table, a bowl of chips and half eaten sandwich in front of him while he stared absently into the distance, she didn’t disturb his moment of reflection. She didn’t scold Patrice for her lack of communication or tiptoe around as if she’d inherited an unwanted house guest. Leon didn’t ask questions when he found Terry dressed in all black and quietly watching Junior play video games with Patrice nowhere in sight instead of eating dinner with his extended family a neighborhood over. No one said anything when a week had passed and their bonus kid and extra sibling was still finding solace in a home free of death’s heaviness. 

Lunch had just wrapped when Terry trudged up the front steps, rang the doorbell twice to cue Patrice, and slipped into the ice cold confines of his safe space. 

“You look tired.” Patrice didn’t mince words and Terry couldn’t find it within himself to lie his way through an answer. 

He shrugged. “I was helping my mama clean up Granny’s house last night. Guess it got late.” 

“Did you sleep after that,” Patrice questioned over her shoulder as he followed her toward her bedroom.

“Kinda hard to get rest when you have two kids in your bed.” His attempt at a laugh sounded more like a bitter huff, dry and lacking the goofy joy only Patrice was privy to on a day to day. 

She followed his every move around the room while carefully propping the door open for when her mother eventually made her way back in from Mrs. Wright’s next door vegetable garden. 

The weary sigh escaping his lungs melded with slow moving, heavy legs easing his body into her favorite chair in the house. Patrice made herself comfortable at the head of her bed, allowing silence to blanket the room.

Terry let his eyes drift closed for a moment, only to open them and find a set etched with concern staring back at him. “I’m fine, Treece,” he asserted, hoping to quell any worry. “What’s the plan for today? Wanna take Junior to the skate park like we promised?” 

“I think my daddy wants y’all’s help finishing that bench swing on the back. Then maybe we get ice cream after that?” 

“Sure.” Terry’s thoughts had taken him to some far off land too secluded for even Patrice to accompany him on his journey, leaving her with a half-assed response and a friend staring blankly at the wall ahead. 

Patrice shifted in her cross-legged position before speaking. “Are you…okay, TJ?” The question felt incomplete and went entirely unanswered, but not unheard. Terry quickly glanced in Patrice’s direction but remained silent. She tried again. “If you aren’t we can talk. Or we can sit here and watch movies until my daddy gets back. It’s up to you.” 

Still nothing. Time passed painfully slow while Patrice waited for any sign that Terry might twist the lid on canned emotions and welcome her inside his head. But, he provided nothing and she didn’t press. 

Terry sat motionless, suspended in a state of paralysis, wanting to speak but not possessing an iota of strength to open his mouth and ask for help. He was drowning. Water from his tears and some of his mothers had long engulfed him a wrafthful, unyielding high tide slowly pulling him into water too deep for rescue. He wrestled with himself, desperately begging his tongue to move to no avail. 

A wavering breath steadied rising emotions as Patrice appeared to give up on any possibility of a conversation and searched her nightstand for the television remote. “No.” His voice paused Patrice’s shuffling to shift her attention across the room. Terry closed his eyes and sighed again to push the words out of his mouth. “All my days are bad. Unless I’m over here. Then it’s less bad. I know I have to be happy for Zanah and Zorah and mom and dad so they don’t have to worry about me too, but -” He paused to gather the anger bubbling inside his chest before starting a new thought. “I like being here. It’s peaceful. Cold as bitch, but still. It’s a good break.”

Patrice scooched closer to the edge of the bed to lay on her stomach and study Terry. He kept his gaze low to avoid eye contact he knew would make him cry in the presence of his own high school crush to stick past a few weeks.

“You’re dramatic about the cold. It’s hot as the Devil’s kneecaps and you worried about the cold,” she joked. Terry allowed himself the gift of laughter, chuckling along with Patrice before finding enough resolve to return her curious stare. She offered a smile that he mirrored without effort. “I can’t tell you what to do, but it might help for you to spend a little more time with your mom. I’m sure she misses having you around. Maybe y’all could figure out how to be happy together.”

An unreceptive heart and mind sorted Patrice’s lofty idea into the pile of advice Terry had labled nice but ultimately just a thing to say when someone dies. He shrugged in indifference then slid deeper into her beanbag that had all but molded itself into his body shape after days of being its only inhabitant. “Maybe. Can you find something to watch, though, Confucius?” 

Roller her eyes, Patrice mumbled a retort under her breath and turned on the TV to scroll through the channels list for something worth their while. A seemingly endless search yielded little results, leaving Terry to drift back to his private mental island. Already waning speech crept to a halt. Defenses lowered. Limbs became putty under the weight of crisp air conditioning blowing from the vent across the room.

“Wanna watch Bad Boys 2?” Patrice’s question fell on deaf ears for a spell before she looked in his direction. Her frown slowly loosened into a fond smile while she watched his chest rise and fall, mouth slightly ajar to release the beginnings of a deep snore. Tossing a pillow from her bed, Patrice sent a soft mound of down feathers to startle him awake. She snickered at the wild look on his face when he came to. “Movie or no movie TJ?” 

“Girl! Movie! I said that, right? I said movie,” he grumbled, placing the pillow behind his head and wiggling his long body until he was comfortable again. “You play so much, Treece.” 

She waved him away and selected their first feature of the afternoon. “Whatever.”

Martin Lawrence and Will Smith had at least one active viewer. The other, slumped on the floor with a bean bag chair and an orange satin pillow case as a makeshift bed, chose dreaming as the alternative to action packed comedy. Patrice resisted the jester on her shoulder recommending different ways to interrupt his rest and convince him to join her for hijinks and pointless conversation, preferring to quietly slip a throw blanket over his body, draw the curtains, and tip-toe out of the room.

Life in the Ellis household went on with Terry out cold on Patrice’s bedroom floor. Rosalyn put a snack to the side for when eventually emerged from slumber. Junior tried his hardest to keep his voice down in the bedroom just down the hall with threats on his summer freedom as a motivator. Leon, though worn ragged from a days work and ready to start his weekend with a cold beer in the backyard, delayed completing his wife’s porch swing project to allow Terry a little more time to nap. All in the home conspired together to allow the young boy with heavy burdens space and opportunity for needed rest. 

Two hours later, once the sun had started to cast orange and pink hues on the city and turned the backyard into a golden paradise, Terry appeared in the living room feeling emotionally lighter and ready to work. Patrice saw him first and offered a small wave and smile that he returned with more visible happiness than before. She was right about the nap, and when she wasn’t so hellbent on gloating in her wins one day, he’d tell her she was right about him being tired.

He gave his thanks to Mrs. Ellis for saving a sandwich for him, playfully wrestled with Junior to satisfy his need for a little boyish horseplay, then dutifully follow Mr. Ellis outside to see his joint work through to completion. 

Patrice played supervisor as she stood with her arms folded and eyes darting between Terry’s muscles contracting from the effort and various blunders from the motley crew of handymen trying and failing to hoist the bench onto its metal chain.

“Alright, lift one more time, boys. I think I got it now,” Leon instructed Terry from the top rung on his ladder. 

Terry and Junior signaled their understanding then counted down from three to brace themselves for their fourth attempt. 

Counting down from three was inexplicably confused with counting to three in Junior’s mind. Somewhere in the middle, wires were crossed, yelps of pain rang out loud enough to disturb a flock of birds perched on the nearby wooden fence, and blood from a deep gash in Terry’s hand trickled down his aching, bruised fingers. 

He hopped around the back porch grimmacing and holding his hand while Junior apologized profusely. “It’s okay,” Terry gritted through clinched teeth. “Can I get a bandaid?” 

“Oh my God,” Patrice gawked. “Terry! Come inside and sit down. Mama!”

“Son, you gon’ need more than a bandaid. Ros! Grab the kit! The boy damn near lost his hand!” 

Leon’s exaggeration nearly sent Terry into shock as he wobbled his way into the kitchen. He finally understood where Patrice got her flare for the dramatic once Rosalyn had carefully cleared away all the blood and debris to reveal an ugly but totally normal cut running the width of his palm. 

While she worked to heal his wound with gentle care, Terry’s mind drifted to his mother a few neighborhoods over and what she might do to make him feel better. He knew she’d go to great lengths to kiss away his pain and mend his body until hurt passed and all that was left was her love. She deserved as much from him. They deserved as much from each other. He had to get home. 

Down one unharmed hand and up an almost full roll of gauze wrapped around his palm, Terry walked in front of Patrice on the way to his truck, laughing at the spectacle from before. 

Terry took a gander at his new accessory and chuckled. “At least I get a couple days out of conditioning. Shoutout to Junior for that.” 

“I don’t even know why Daddy had him out there. The boy gets out of school and forgets how to count every summer. Now I can’t get any ice cream!” Their shared laughter rang out on the empty street, floating into the sunset intertwined like two pieces of a whole. “When you come back tomorrow, I’ll have some cupcakes or something for you. By then, Daddy oughta had somebody by here to hang that thing and we can sit outside.” 

Terry chewed his bottom lip before responding. “Uh…I think I’m gonna hang out with my mama tomorrow, actually. Probably go get lunch or something. You can come too, if you want.” 

“No, that’s okay. Don’t even think about me. Spend some time with your mom. It’ll be good for you two.” Patrice didn’t hesitate to quell Terry’s anxiety with a tight squeeze around his shoulders. “Drive safe, Terry. Let me know when you get home.”

Terry brought his uninjured hand to the small of Patrice’s back and pressed her closer. “I will. Love you.” 

“Yeah. Love you, too.”

Quick bursts of electric energy passed between them before becoming the very energy to repel their bodies for good. 

Terry flashed a final smile at Patrice, putting all 32 teeth on display, then climbed into the front seat to make sense of driving without his dominant hand. The loud roar of his engine and two quick honks sent signaled his departure. Patrice chose to stand in the driveway until his was out of sight, giving Terry a mental picture to cherish forever as she grew smaller in his rear view mirror. 

He smiled when she finally seemed to go inside, unaware of the heart string spooling its way into existence.

------

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[sommerbueckers]

My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??

(smut😏)

A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.

I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.

"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."

"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."

"So...why're you here?" I frowned.

"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."

My unimpressed look didn't falter.

After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.

"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."

I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'

Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."

I turned around, staring at her from across the room.

"I just-"

"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.

"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.

"Goodbye to me?"

"Yes you."

"Why me?"

"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"

"No you, you can," I stammered.

Paige nodded contently, "Good."

She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.

I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.

I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.

When we pulled away, she took a step back.

"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.

She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.

"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.

Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."

"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."

I stepped closer.

"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."

She stepped closer.

At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.

In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.

I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.

I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.

She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.

We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.

"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head, "Not enough."

As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.

"Wider" she said.

I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.

This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'

I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?

She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.

I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."

She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.

Up and down.

Circles.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Circles.

The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.

I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.

"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.

"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.

Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.

"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.

She laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.

She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.

"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."

She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.

"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."

I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.

"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.

"Y-yes" I panted.

"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.

I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.

She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."

I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.

"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.

I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???

Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...

[eviesaurusrex]

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ." | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stephen Strange x Witch!Reader

summary: [request] How about strangexofc where they are dating and going to meet your family for the first time. But there’s an age gap and you’ve kinda been keeping your relationship a secret. Then you catch strange trying to dye his grey hair and stop him and tell him you love the grey and maybe show him how much you love him … 😈 Also like an epilogue of him meeting the fam and they love him??

word count: 3.3k

warnings: insecure!Stephen (and his showing clinginess and touch starved behavior), fluff, Wong being Wong, encouragement, smutty allusions but nothing graphic, more fluff, boyfriend!Stephen because yes, he is a warning, loving parents (we’ll see how I gonna suck at this part lol), more fluff, my inability to end fanfictions, not entirely proofread

author’s note: Another pretty old request! I’m not sure what today is all about, but I’m trying to work through those I deem interesting and fun xD Hope you enjoy it! The dividers belong to @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics <3

The double door to the Sanctum Sanctorum opened with a swoosh of New Yorker winter air following the arriving woman; snow crystals dancing over the floor of the foyer and forming intricate details in the woman's braided strands. A shiver ran through her body for the hundreds of times this day, reminding her again that winter most definitely had arrived in her most loved city.

With a groan, YN shrugged off the heavy coat and shook it to deliberate it from the layer of frost, snow, and half-melted ice before hanging it on the detailed wooden clothes rack standing next to the doors. The frost-crusted scarf and beanie followed closely. Now, only armed with her trusty souvenir bags, which she had acquired in every city she had ever visited—it wasn't an obsession, nope—YN put the grand staircase behind her and entered the second floor. She turned right, followed the hallway, and let the bags pile onto the kitchen island after getting there. Wong turned at the sound—steaming cup in hand and letting another one appear in front of the frozen witch.

"I know again why you're my favorite sorcerer," the woman sighed, closing both hands around the warm mug, her eyes falling shut in a flutter as the warmth seeped into her skin. "Tell me that again when he is in the same room, and I'm tempted to believe it, Elsa." YN opened her eyes again and grinned over the mug at the older man, softly shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes. "The movie insults won't hurt me, Maui," she returned, winking at the sorcerer with a grin still on her lips. "And I will say it in front of him when he infuriates me again. Give us a few more weeks; the closer we get to Christmas, the more likely it will become."

She loved Stephen with all her heart and every fiber of her being, but this man never knew when to shut his mouth—especially if she was already stressed out because Christmas was a huge deal for her. She loved Christmas. She lived the Christmas season as soon as nasty Halloween lay behind humanity and Thanksgiving was finally coming up. But Christmas was also the most stressful season for her, and now, as part of the Avengers, it seemingly grew increasingly frustrating. YN never had to think about so many presents because before, it had always been only her parents, maybe some co-workers, and Stephen and Wong after the sorcerer had entered her life.

Speaking of which…

"I will keep that in mind," Wong said after taking a big sip of his tea. YN turned to see if Cloaky had already come floating through the hallway like it usually did as soon as she came home but was greeted by emptiness. "You don't know by any chance where he is?" The woman had turned back to him, but Wong couldn't even open his mouth because the sound of a portal interrupted them. They looked both in the direction of approaching steps, and Stephen appeared in the hallway, seemingly not expecting any of these two to see here. His brows knitted, and YN cocked an eyebrow at the sight of him trying to hide the paper bag from Target behind his long legs.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said something about errands." His voice held an edge to it she couldn't pinpoint, so YN's brow wandered up even further until it almost reached her hairline. "Well, I was done sooner than expected. But I can leave again if you prefer it that way." The witch had already turned to find her purse, not hearing as the paper bag dropped to the hardwood floor and Stephen's hurried steps came closer to her. His hands softly took hold of her shoulders before the Sorcerer Supreme snaked his arms around them and leaned his forehead on her right shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, darling," he whispered, not caring that Wong stood opposite them and chuckled behind his mug.

To be honest, the other sorcerer had seen much worse in the past one and three-quarter years ever since Stephen had brought his girl to the Sanctum. And yes, he counted the months since the woman in his arms had told him she loved and came home with him. He was the luckiest bastard on this damned planet after all.

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to YN's neck, tightening his hold. He could hear her sigh before she settled her back against his chest and caressed one of his hands with the tips of her fingers. The sorcerer closed his eyes at the feeling of her lips against his reachable temple and how she leaned her head against his. "Is everything okay?" Her soft voice asked, and Stephen nodded quickly, not wanting to let her into his head to see the boiling mess in there—she would probably laugh before running away, changing her mind over everything that concerned him and their relationship. He couldn't let that happen. Not so shortly after he had finally found the one woman who could keep up with him and who loved him with every single damned flaw he possessed. "You can talk to me, Stephen. Whatever might be bothering you, I am here to help. It's my job."

She meant every single word because YN knew how the man in her back tended to be as soon as he spiraled. And because she knew every single red flag, she was worried to her bones—his behavior right now was a single big, screaming red flag. But she also knew she couldn't push him, so she had to wait and sit this one out as long as it might take.

"I know, darling, but it's nothing." He grew silent for a moment before continuing. "Would you mind cooking alone? I… I need to check some books that arrived this morning from Kamar-Taj, and they can't wait until tomorrow." YN furrowed her forehead at the shakiness of his voice, his barely audible stutter, and counting more red flags. Even Wong seemed not convinced. But instead of calling Stephen out now and not in their bedroom later after dinner, the witch only turned in his tight grasp and cupped his cheeks with both hands. She smiled up at him. "Of course, love. Go and do your work. I will get you when dinner is ready. Mousse au chocolate for dessert, or does Doctor Strange prefer a chocolate cake tonight?" Stephen pressed a long, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Whatever Miss LN is up to tonight," he returned with a soft whisper, followed by another kiss on her head.

And then he disappeared upstairs—but not without the ominous paper bag.

YN turned to Wong with heavily furrowed brows and deep creases between them. "Something is wrong," both spoke in unison and sighed before they started to prepare dinner together, a heavy silence dominating the kitchen.

Knuckles knocked gently on the hardwood door leading to Stephen's study after almost two hours of cooking dinner—lasagna just like he loved the dish—and baking his favorite cake—chocolate, with a soft chocolate core. She even got him his favorite whiskey in preparation for a cozy night in front of the fireplace, with some of their favorite vinyl playing in the background.

At the silence greeting YN from the other side, even after another soft knock, she huffed and opened the door without another warning. "Stephen?" But the study wasn't even lit, and twilight was all the witch saw. The snow still fell in front of the massive windows leading to the nonetheless busy New Yorker streets, and curiosity got its best of her. So the woman wandered into the grant but still cozy-looking room and rounded the wooden desk. Her fingers stroked over the scattered books—some opened, others closed—and got a hold of an opened letter written by one of the masters back at Kamar-Taj, dated a week ago.

"Books my ass," the witch mumbled under her breath and left the study again after a last displeased look at the books Stephen most definitely had already worked through. She closed the door behind herself because she was taught to be a decent human and raised her right hand softly. YN tried to not get distracted by the ring Stephen had gifted her at their first anniversary—a promise to a future, as he had called it. But she couldn't admire the piece, not now. Now, she had a task to fulfill.

Her pointer and ring finger twitched, barely visible, and the warm-feeling magic glided almost gracefully through the hallway and highlighted a golden path leading upstairs to the second floor. The witch followed her conjured marks, not really having to pay close attention to them because now, she was sure where she would find her boyfriend in distress. And that's where the path brought her—right in front of the door to their shared bedroom. This time, YN didn't bother to knock. Instead, she pushed the wood open and was faced with twilight once more, but the golden gleam of the bathroom lighting drew her steps closer.

And what she saw there let her pause dead in her tracks.

Stephen stood in front of the mirror, only wearing his sweatpants, a towel hanging over his shoulders, and his left hand held a plastic bowl with something thickly dark inside. His right hand had a tight grip on a brush, typically used for hair accidents requiring a re-touch before an important occasion. Inside the sink laid an assortment of at-home hair coloring products, all ripped open, and the instructions scattered around the sink's edge—one was even taped to the mirror in front of him.

YN gently cleared her throat before Stephen could even think of smearing this stuff into his hair. "Would you mind telling me what you are trying to do, love?" She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her chest, and eyes settled on his widening eyes before the sorcerer turned to his girlfriend—stupid contributors to his spiraling mind still in his hands. He looked from the brush and bowl to the woman he loved, the unpleasant smell of hair dye lingering in the air. "Would you believe me if I said nothing is happening right now?" Stephen had to try to lighten the mood a bit, at least, but YN couldn't have any of that. She pushed her body off the frame and walked over to him before taking both items out of his hands and placing them into the sink.

Her entire focus was settled on him.

"Did you try to dye your hair?" At the confused sound of her voice, Stephen only shrugged. "But why?" Another shrug followed, but because he didn't dare to look into her eyes, YN already guessed where his mind had wandered off. "Is this because we're gonna see my parents next weekend?" His heavy swallow was answer enough, and the witch couldn't hold back anymore. Her hands gently cupped his face, just like earlier, before her fingers carded through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Oh, Stephen…," she mumbled and pulled him closer until she could feel his hands resting on her hips. "I wanted… I… You…” His deep rumbling sigh was evidence enough for the woman to feel the boiling emotions running havoc in this usually composed man. "It's okay." She took one of his hands and pulled at it. "Come on, love," she encouraged him to follow her back into their bedroom.

YN's hand flicked to light up the many candles inside their room while she pushed Stephen to sit down at his bedside. She stayed in front of him, right between his thighs that spread to make space for her, and her hands were back on his handsome face, grounding him and clearing his mind at least a bit. He never knew if it was just inherently YN or her magic that pushed through to him. Either way, he didn't object in the slightest.

"Tell me what's going on in that brilliant mind of yours." She sounded as if she was begging, and maybe she was because YN had felt a pit forming in her stomach ever since seeing what Stephen tried to do. He started to play with the hem of her oversized hoodie—his Columbia University hoodie. "I tried to dye my grey spots to seem younger," the Sorcerer Supreme mumbled, ashamed to admit it out loud. YN stayed silent to give him enough space to sort through his thoughts and let them out in the open. It took a moment until he spoke again. "I never met parents before. I never had to think about how I appear in other's parent's eyes… All I can think about is how old I look and how old I am compared to you, and I thought that it might help my case in convincing your parents that I am good enough for their pride and joy if I dyed my hair to at least look somewhat your age." He sighed deeply and let his forehead fall against her chest, letting it rest there.

YN started to comb through his soft strands, staying quiet once more because she had never thought about what the question of whether Stephen wanted to come with her might do to him. She had only thought about the fact that this man was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and how much she wanted her parents to meet this handsome, loving, and compassionate man she had stumbled upon—quite literally. The witch would've never suggested it in the first place if she knew what it would do to him, and now, guilt washed over her, but she had to take care of Stephen's spiraling mind before she could tend to her very own troublemaker up there.

Tenderly, she took his chin between her thumb and pointer finger and nudged Stephen's face up so he would look her right into her eyes. "You will listen to me now, love," YN started, and Stephen stared into her eyes, unmoving. "You are not old. We may have a slight age gap—but nothing as vast as you picture it—and yes, some may object to it, but not my parents. They are happy if I am happy, and I can tell you, I never was happier in my entire life. You make me the happiest and most content version of myself, Stephen, and this is all that matters." YN stopped to press a soft kiss to his forehead, easing his deep worry-wrinkles. "And now, to the one point I may never have made perfectly clear." Her voice dropped to a whisper, and the witch cupped his face again. "You will never touch those grey spots, do you understand?"

Stephen still stared at her, utter wonder written in his eyes and on his face, and his hands grabbed her hips to coax her into his lap. "Are you trying to tell me you secretly love them?" A grin tucked at YN's lips, and her eyes wandered over his grey strands, her fingers following close as they combed through them once more. "I think they make you incredibly hot and deadly handsome, love," she giggled before burrowing her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. The sorcerer let out a raspy groan at the feeling of YN's nails scratching over the sensitive skin there. He cupped the side of her own neck with his much bigger hand, his thumb caressing her jawline slowly while his eyes took in the beauty that was her face. "Oh, really?" Stephen asked, almost teasingly, and pulled her closer to him until their chests were pressed against each other. YN nodded softly, a gasp leaving her parted lips, and a moan soon followed when Stephen dared to steal a deepening kiss from her. "Those spots make you appear like damned fine wine, aged into perfection and promising me the most perfect taste of summer, dreams, and sunsets. Don't you dare touch them as long as I am here," she whispered against his lips, drinking him in when the sorcerer kissed her once again, reveling in his taste and the feel of this man who had chosen her of all the women he could've selected from. "You are perfect just the way you are."

Stephen's hands gripped her hips in a tight, almost bruising hold and pulled the witch flush against him, tickling out yet another moan when their cores made contact. "You mean that?" He still felt insecure about this whole ordeal despite his mind slowly stopping to spiral out of control, but Stephen would be damned if he didn't ask for more reassurance, knowing well enough that YN would never hold back with it. The following smirk growing on her face? He did not expect that, nor what she had in mind for them, his eyes following her gorgeous body when she slowly sank down on her knees, right between his parting thighs.

"I have no qualms in proofing my words," the witch giggled in anticipation when the palm of her hands caressed his strong thighs, up and down, her eyes never leaving his. "When I'm done, there won't be a single lingering doubt, Stephen Strange, I promise you that."

—

And she would be correct.

"Stop fidgeting." Trying to soothe his over-worrying mind, YN smoothed out the lapels of his pristine coat as they stood in front of her parent's home in the dainty and quiet suburban around New York City. "Easier said than done," the sorcerer grumbled back and let her push back a salt-and-pepper strand, and after rising to her tiptoes, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a faint mark of her lipstick on his skin. Humming, YN erased it with the pad of her thumb, perfectly timed with the sound of steps echoing behind the front door. "Everything will be fine, Stephen, believe me," she all had time but to whisper before the door opened and welcomed them with a wind of warm air.

Her mother smiled brightly as always when she took in her daughter, arms already wide open to gather her in a tight, motherly hug. "Oh, my sweet girl. Look at you." She held her at arm's length, eyes mapping and cataloging everything she could see under the thick coat and layers of fabrics. "How is it possible that you still turn prettier every time I see you again? It must be magic," Mrs. LN smiled widely, and YN pressed a loving kiss to her mother's cheek. "Oh, please. You over-exaggerate."

"She is right, darling," Stephen chimed in, his unoccupied hand finding the small of her back when he stepped closer. Her mother instantly took him in as well, eyes like a hawk observing its potential prey, but the hardness vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and her smile returned. "You must be Stephen. I've heard so much about you—welcome!" YN had already grabbed the transport box filled with chocolate cake, so they could shake hands, but instead, the Sorcerer Supreme found himself in a welcoming and tight hug, making YN giggle in delight. "Come in, come in! It's freezing out here."

They both got ushered into the warmth of her childhood home, and the sound of her father rummaging in the kitchen welcomed them as her mother accepted the cake and watched with a softening expression when Stephen gently helped her out of the cloak and kissed her cheek while doing so. "You two are just too sweet," the mother hummed, showing them to follow her.

YN gathered Stephen's hand in hers and squeezed it softly, her other hand naturally wrapping around his bicep. "See? I told you," she whispered as quietly as possible, letting one brow rise when the man beside her huffed. "I still need to survive the introduction to your father, sweetheart," he answered just as quietly when they arrived in the living space with the open kitchen and her father smiling warmly at them. "I think this will run smoother than you give yourself credit, love."

And again, she would be correct.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog. It would mean the world to me <33

[imsogonesposts]

Now I'm Missing Your Smile

|| ao3 || an: im gonna be so honest, i wrote this cause of the set pics of steve's new truck. also, this is based on tis the damn season by taylor swift! ||

summary: When you come home from college for your winter break, you find yourself missing your ex boyfriend Steve Harrington. (wc: 2808)

You weren’t planning on visiting him on your trip back home. You were back from college on your two-week break to celebrate Christmas and the New Year with your family and friends, as well as finally finishing your finals. Steve was never supposed to be part of your plans. Not after he broke up with you in fear of doing long distance. Even though Indiana University was only an hour and a half drive away from Hawkins. Even though you had both originally promised to visit each other every long weekend. 

So, when you ran into him at the grocery store, picking up some last-minute ingredients for your mom’s Christmas feast, you were less than thrilled. You felt your blood go cold when he called your name and turned around to be met with his warm brown eyes. You missed those eyes. 

“Hi, Steve,” you reply, gaze quickly moving to the floor. You really didn’t want to see him. Not when Christmas was a few days away. Not when you were still getting over him. Not when you looked like this. 

“I didn’t realize you were back in town,” he said, taking a step towards you, then quickly retreating, as if he didn’t know whether or not he could hug you. He could not. 

“Well it’s winter break,” you say with a shrug and half smile. You had promised him when you first brought up going to a school away from Hawkins that you’d be home for every break. Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring, and summer break. “It’s not like I’ll have to pay for a plane ticket, I just gotta drive for like an hour,” you had told him at the time.

“How’s college?” He asked, eyeing your hoodie that had your school’s name embroidered across it. 

“It’s good,” you reply as you both nod. You couldn’t do this. Not today, not ever. “Gotta go!” You reply, quickly turning around as you push the shopping cart to the next aisle. Away from him. 

“Wait, I’m having a little Christmas get-together if you wanna pass by! I’m sure the kids would love to see you!” He yelled as you yelled back an “I’ll think about it!” You had already known about the party. Robin had told you about it the day before when she went to visit you on your first night back in Hawkins. You just didn’t know if you could step back into the Harrington house. Back in the house where you and Steve shared so many memories. Back where he broke your heart last October when you had last visited him. 

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he had told you.

“Do what?”

“Long distance…”

“You said you wanted to try. It’s barely been two months, Steve-“

“I’m sorry,”

***

You don’t know what convinced you to attend Steve’s Christmas get-together. Maybe it was so you could see all your old friends from high school again. Maybe it was because Robin kept (lovingly) pestering you about how she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible while you were home. Maybe it was because part of you missed Steve. Missed his smell, his smile, his stupid hair, missed him. 

As you pulled into his driveway, you briefly questioned if Steve had moved, as his maroon BMW was now replaced with a blue pickup truck. However, that thought was quickly diminished when you caught sight of a certain red-headed girl through the window. Since when did Steve become a truck guy?

As you knocked on the door of the house that once felt so familiar, but now so cold and distant, you were welcomed by a beaming Steve. “You made it!” He exclaimed, moving aside to let you in the house. Wow, did you miss his smile. And how he sounded when he was truly happy about something.

“Hey guys,” you say, greeting your old hometown friends as you place a Christmas cake on the coffee table, smiling as they all eagerly welcome you back. 

***

Hours later, after the party had ended and everyone went home, you stayed to help Steve. Not because you missed him,but because you had always stayed to help him clean up back when the two of you were still together. It wouldn’t make sense to break tradition now, right?

“So, you got a new car?” You ask, breaking the tense silence between the two of you.

“Yeah,” he nods, brown hair flopping back and forth as he sweeps the floor. “The BMW finally gave out, so...” He concludes with a shrug.

“Never took you for a truck guy,” you reply as he glances up, meeting your gaze with a smile.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

***

Twenty minutes later, after all the trash was thrown out, and the party’s mess was cleaned up, Steve took you for an aimless drive around Hawkins. Just like you both used to do to kill time. To spend time together, just because.

And just like last time, he was ever the gentleman. Opening the passenger side door for you, offering you a hand as you climbed inside the truck, asking if the AC was too cold or if you’d prefer the heater. Ever the gentleman. 

“Sorry, it’s a little dirty,” he had mumbled as he fumbled with the radio station. Though it was messy, there was mud on the tires, a few old receipts in the cup holders, and far too many sweaters in the back seat than one person would ever need, it was all so Steve. The truck smelled so much like his cologne, one that you’ve grown to miss, it had a picture of him and Robin and one of him and the kids taped to the dashboard, and even a hairbrush in the cup holders, because of course there was. 

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug. “It’s a nice truck,” you say, noting his smile. 

“It’s my baby,” he joked, tapping the wheel before pulling out of the driveway. 

“Y’know, it feels like everything and nothing has changed since I left,” you whisper halfway through the drive, laughing at Steve’s confused look. “I mean, like you got a new truck, Joyce and Hopper are married now, thats different, but in the end, you guys are all still the same,” you explain with a shrug. 

“I feel like time’s been standing still since you left,” he replied quietly, avoiding your gaze, whether to keep his eyes on the road or because he regrets what he said, you can’t decide. 

“What do you mean?” You ask as he lets out a sigh. You could see the air escape his mouth as the temperature slowly drops.

“It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he mutters, giving you a sheepish smile as you continue to stare at him. Could he have regretted breaking up with you? Did he miss you like you missed him?

“It’s not stupid,” you reassured him with a smile, glancing out the window to see the Christmas lights people put up outside their homes. 

“I missed you,” he said quietly, voice just above a whisper. “And I’m sorry about,” he pauses, putting a hand up in the air, waving it around the empty space, “everything.”

“I missed you too,” you confess just as quietly. 

“I should’ve never broken up with you,” he replied, voice somehow quieter, barely loud enough to hear over the truck’s engine and the music playing from the radio.

***

“Steve,” you whisper so as not to disturb him. He looked nice when he was asleep. Peaceful, pretty. 

He just grumbled in response, tightening his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You hadn’t meant to spend the night at his place, but as the weather got colder, and as the two of you exchanged more words with one another, how could you not spend the night? How could you not sleep in the arms of the boy you missed? Back in what felt like the warmest bed you’ve ever known. 

“Steve, it’s 10 am,” you whisper as he lets out another grumble. “We can’t sleep in the whole day,” you tell him, despite how much you would love to stay in his arms all day. In his warm bed, against his warm body, instead of facing the cold, freezing day. 

He opens his eyes, smiling when his meets yours, squeezing you once more. “How’d you sleep?” He asks through a yawn. 

“Good. Your bed’s very cozy,” you reply, smiling at his laugh. “How’d you sleep?”

“Perfect, best sleep I’ve had in months,” he says, tightening his arm around you again. If it were up to him, the two of you would stay cuddling in his bed all day. For forever, and then some. 

“I never asked,” he starts through another yawn, “but how’s college going?”

“It’s good,” you reply with a non-comital shrug. 

“Real convincing,” he teased, poking your side with a smile, one that you easily returned. You missed how easy it was for him to get you to smile. 

“Well, it’s no Hawkins,” you tell him, “there’s no one I know there. There’s no Robin, or Enzo’s, or you.”

“No me?” He asks, raising his eyebrows with a smile. “I am pretty irresistible, aren’t I?” He asks in a faux cocky tone, one that never failed to make you laugh.

“Why did you break up with me?” You suddenly ask, effectively ruining the previous light-hearted mood between the two of you. As soon as the question left your lips, as soon as you saw Steve’s smile drop, you regretted the words. Regretted why you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for once, and just be happy, in the moment, with Steve.

“I was scared you’d find someone better than me,” he quietly confessed, staring at the blanket that still lay atop you both. “I mean, I’m working at a stupid video store, I’m not even in community college, I was scared you were gonna meet some Einstein out there and realize he could give you everything I couldn’t.”

“And what changed now?” You ask, sitting up.

“I realized how much I miss you. How I’m more scared of losing my chance with you cause I gave you up.” His gaze finally turning upwards, finally meeting yours with a sorrowful look. 

“How do I know you’re not gonna break up with me again?” You ask, watching as Steve’s gaze turns to the blanket again. 

“Now I’m not as stupid.”

“But how do I know that? How do I know that the minute I get back to school, you’re not gonna call it off again cause you’re scared?” Again, you regretted your words. It’s not like you weren’t scared that while you were gone, Steve would find a different girl that he liked more than you. But at least you didn’t break up with him over that fear. At least you had stayed. At least you had tried.

“Why is it so hard to believe that I’m not the same idiot you left behind and that I want to make this work?” He asks, finally meeting your gaze, only to be met with an upset look on your face. Left behind? Is that really how he saw it? Did he really think you going to college to pursue your dreams meant you wanted to *leave him* behind? 

It’s as if the same thought hit him when it hit you because not even a second later, he’s sitting up, trying to explain himself. “Wait, that’s not what I meant,” he tries to explain at the same time that you’re getting out of his bed and putting on your shoes. 

“This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have come to your stupid party,” you say, getting up as he lightly grabs your wrist. 

“Wait, please,” 

“I should’ve stayed at school, then I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit,” 

“You would’ve been alone on Christmas-“ he quietly says, eyes looking sad. He knows firsthand that being alone on Christmas wasn’t easy. He knew it sucked. He knew he would never want that for you and that he’d avoid you for the rest of your life if it meant you’d still come home to Hawkins every Christmas just to have people to celebrate it with.

“I wouldn’t have had my boyfriend- my ex boyfriend think I left him here because I wanted a fucking degree,”

“That’s not what I think!”

“Then, what, Steve? What is it that you think, hm?”

He just stares at you, taking in your features as if it’s the last time he’ll get to see them in person. Because, honestly? He’s worried that this is the last time he’ll get to see you. He’s worried that this time, he’s screwed up things far beyond repair. That he might lose you for good, with no second chance.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, he quietly says, “I never thought you left me. I thought you were doing everything you could to get out of this hell-hole. Which, if I had the brains that you do, I would’ve done too. This whole time, even while we were broken up, I’ve been saving up some money to move near your school, so I could be closer to you. So we could both get out of here. I’ve never wanted anything but for us to work. Even if I sometimes have a shitty way of showing it.”

“What was your plan then? Move to Bloomington and try to win me back?” You ask as he begins lightly rubbing the inside of your wrist with his thumb.

“I never said it was a smart plan,” he responds with a weak smile. “I could show you the money if you want,” he replies, gesturing to his nightstand, where you presumed he had stored said money.

“You’re a really big idiot sometimes, you know that?” You ask as he lets out a small chuckle.

“I kind of figured that out when I broke up with you.”

You take a small step towards him. “You’re not gonna break up with me again when I go back to school?”

He shakes his head no, looking at you with those warm brown eyes that you’ve missed so much. “I don’t make the same mistake twice,” he jokes, smiling at your small smile. He missed your smile. He missed waking up in the same bed as you, your presence, your voice, your laugh, you.

You take another step towards him with a sigh. “Okay,” you whisper, smiling at his confused look.

“Okay, you want to get back together?” He asks, furrowing his brows in confusion, yet still hopeful. Hopeful he didn’t screw everything up again. Hopeful you’ll take him back. 

You nod. “Yeah. But if you mess up again, we’re done.”

“Please,” he starts with a laugh. “You really think Robin and Dustin are gonna let me make the same stupid decision twice?” He asks with a smile. A smile that grows bigger when you move to kiss him. You missed his kisses. He missed yours as well. 

“How long are you staying in Hawkins?” He asks, reluctantly breaking from the kiss. 

“Until next Saturday,” you reply as he smiles. 

“Y’know, we can go to Lover’s Lake, sometime while you’re here. In the new truck,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows with a smile. Instead of replying, you just kissed him again. Not that he minded. You truly missed your idiot of a boyfriend.

“I’m just saying,” he mumbles in between kisses, “you haven’t experienced Hawkins in the truck yet. It’s its own experience, babe. And, now I can visit you in the truck!” 

“I’m starting to think you like that truck more than me,” you tease, breaking away from the kiss. You can’t help but smile as he tries to chase your lips.

“Excuse you, she has a name,” he says with a smile. You just raise your eyebrows as he tells you her name is Sally. 

Of course, the dingus named his truck. 

“You’re an idiot,” you reply in feign annoyance.

“I’m your idiot,” he says with a smile, moving to kiss you again, hand carefully cradling your face. Holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Which, to him, you were. 

Maybe this time, everything would work out. Maybe in a few years, Steve would move to Bloomington, you moving in with him, and he could get a job there while you finish up your degree. And after, you could both start a life there after you graduate. Or maybe you could both start a life together somewhere else.

But for now, visiting him every break would have to suffice. Because in the end, everything would always lead back to the boy you loved. Back to Steve Harrington, and back to your hometown. And his stupid truck.

[azzifuddworlddomination]

casual pt. 3

paige x azzi fic

yall already knowwwww i did not proof read

this is mostly filler

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

“No… no… no…” Colleen replies mindlessly as Azzi holds up different shirts, “Az, I seriously don’t think going to Montana is a good idea. How did you even get your parents to agree to this? They take holidays pretty seriously.” Azzi takes a breath, “I told them I’d spend the entirety of Christmas break with Jon and Jose.” “Yeah? Until Paige comes over,” Colleen says under her breath. “Are you gonna help or no?” Azzi asks her. “Fine,” Colleen says as she settles back onto Azzi’s bed. 

Azzi stands under the awning of their dorm building as Paige pulls the car up. Its cold Connecticut morning and the snow is falling in thick and heavy flakes. After what seems like a very cold forever, Paige pulls around and parks. Hopping out of her car, she goes around to open the trunk. As her hand lands on Azzi’s suitcase, she’s met with resistance. Azzi tugs the suitcase from Paige’s hands, “I can put it in myself y’know.” Paige gives her a confused look as Azzi doesn’t pay her any mind, instead going around to get in the passenger’s seat. “I turned the heated seat on for you, I know you like that,” Paige says, as Azzi stares out the window. 

Azzi doesn’t want to be mad. She would be thrilled to be going to spend Thanksgiving with her girlfriend’s family. But that wasn’t the case. She was going to act as a buffer between her best-friend-turned-friends-with-benefits-in-hopes-of-them-being-together-one-day-in-the-future-but-one-of-them-pretty-much-ruined-that-after-acting-like-what-they-had-was-not-worth-actually-pursuing-and-they-are-just-casually-hooking-up-otherwise-known-as-a-situationship and her mother, who albeit is caring but struggles to connect with her daughter. To make matters even worse, Paige’s mom doesn’t know they’ve ever been anything beyond friends. She figured if Paige could bring her best friend, it would make Montana a little less boring. 

After an uncomfortably quiet ride, which luckily Paige just chalked up to Azzi being tired, they arrived at the airport. Paige watched in the mirror as Azzi grabbed both bags and mumbled something under her breath before she closed the trunk and gave Paige the go-ahead to go park. After finding a parking spot Paige noticed that Azzi had forgotten her unicorn neck pillow on the seat. She reached over and grabbed it. It’s the neck pillow she’s had since high school. Paige had seen it on more flights and bus rides than she could count. And on each on of those flights and bus rides without fail Paige had talked Azzi’s ear off as much as she would let her. Even though Azzi would tell Paige to just shut up and close her eyes, she never stopped listening until Paige stopped talking. She was such a good best friend. After enough reminiscing, Paige grabs the pillow and reaches for the car door. 

Azzi sits near the airport entrance as she toys with the tags on Paige’s bag. Azzi thought having multiple tags on her suitcase was a little redundant, but as she flipped through the tags she stopped at the one with the Hopkins High School logo on the back. It still had Paige’s old Minnesota address. Azzi reminisced on the times that she had gone to Minnesota to visit her, or the times she had traveled to see Paige play for Hopkins. Azzi started to look at the tag with the UConn logo on it, the address almost identical to hers. Only the room number differed. Azzi thought to herself for a moment, what it would be like to finally live together. Would their bedding be pink or purple, or maybe they’d mutually agree on a different color or a mix of the two? It was dumb, Azzi thought, it wasn’t worth wasting her time thinking about. You wouldn’t know how stupid she finds it, if you knew how much she thought about all the hypotheticals in her in Paige’s lives; all of the what ifs, all of the far-off futures, all of the daydreams, and delusions. Azzi flipped to the deep purple tag, it listed her Maryland address. She remembers Paige’s face when she told her that she finally wouldn’t live so far away. She could barely contain her excitement. Finally, Azzi flipped over a pinkish-purple tag, listing Azzi’s house under the address. It was from when Paige stayed with her and her family during covid. She couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental over all the milestones she’s been through with Paige. 

“Stalking me or something?” Paige laughed as Azzi looked up at her like a deer in headlights, “you, uh, forgot this in the car,” Paige says as she hands Azzi the neck pillow. “Thanks,” Azzi shortly responds. Azzi feels caught in the act, wondering how long Paige saw her looking at the different tags she had on her bag while Paige wonders if Azzi can feel that Paige held onto the neck pillow a little longer than she should’ve and reminisced over all the places they’ve been together.

“You know, flying back from Argentina was probably the best flight I’ve been on. To this day,” Paige admits. “Really?” Azzi looks at her. “Yeah, a hundred percent. I’d do a twelve-hour flight with you any day, over a one-hour flight with anyone else. Azzi starts to wonder how bad it would be if she opened up an emergency exit would be, like who says that???? A few beats too late, Azzi responds, “Me too.” As the captain prepares the cabin for take off Paige looks nervously at Azzi, “you know I’m still scared of take off right?” “Still?” Azzi looks at her? “Yeah, still,” Paige responds. Azzi uncrosses her previously crossed arms as she allows Paige to slink her hand under her own and intertwine their fingers.

Paige squeezes her hand as they take off. Azzi squeezes it back as a sign of reassurance. Even as they finally reach their cruising altitude Paige doesn’t remove her hand. As the flight goes on Azzi feels Paige’s hand go limp as she drifts off to sleep. Their fingers intertwined until they touched down in Montana, Azzi couldn’t make up her mind if this trip would be her saving grace or her biggest regret. 

[chrisevansonly]

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

you already know what i’m gonna ask for lol. i need my airport man my love. what do you think would’ve happened if he asked me for my number instead of WALKING AWAY or if i magically found him in duty free. BETTER YET what if he just happened to be on the same flight as me?

let’s pretend airport man is steve rogers please. the blonde and that accent gives steve vibes.

Need A Hand? - 1

PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader

SUMMARY: Flying back to Washington for a family event, you were already ready for it to be over in a week. You didn't want to face the comments from your family about your life as a single working woman. But what happens when you walk into the event accompanied by the stranger you sat next to on the plane? What if that stranger isn't really a stranger?

WARNINGS: Swearing, comments about loneliness from family members, a creepy guy

WORD COUNT: 1,877

ENJOY!

You knew the coffee was cold before the liquid hit your tongue, but you still needed the caffeine. Tipping your head back, you downed the whole thing quickly.

Wincing at the bitter taste, you threw the cardboard cup in the nearest trash can. You knew a 2am flight wouldn’t be the best experience, but you were not going to drive all the way.

You were on the last available flight. You knew your dumbass should’ve booked an earlier ticket, but can you really blame yourself? It’s the middle of December, and people are being stuffed onto planes, wanting to get back to their families for Christmas.

You?

You didn’t want to visit Washington; you had already built your life in the city.

Your family was shocked when you finally revealed you got the position as a Data Analyst at Stark Industries; however, they were even more shocked at your urgency to move ASAP.

They didn’t know that the reason you moved to NYC was because you wanted to leave the nagging and constant subtle unwanted comments behind. It would’ve been one month since you last visited home for Thanksgiving, which didn’t turn out great either; your grandmother made comments on how you didn’t have a man yet.

Rolling your carry-on behind you with one hand, you adjusted the backpack hanging off your shoulders with the other. Your eyes scanned the large gate numbers in hopes of finding the right one.

GATE 23.

You sighed and started heading in the direction of your gate. When you did find a seat in the plethora of people, you called dibs with your eyes and sat down, scrolling mindlessly on social media for the next half an hour.

-------

The aisle seat was somewhat ideal; economy wasn’t the best, but it was something you had to deal with for the next three hours. The man next to you had already started becoming a problem. He started small talk, and you gave in for a while.

“Going to see family?” he asked, looking at you with a wide grin.

You returned a pursed smile, not really wanting to interact with strangers this early in the morning.

 “Yeah, family stuff,” you replied, securing your seatbelt and tightening it to fit your waist.

The questions were normal until the man started getting personal. “Got a boyfriend?” he smiled sleazily, and you cringed on the inside.

You fake smiled and replied, “no.” He nodded and gave you a weird smirk. “Why? You’re a gorgeous thing.”

You shuddered slightly and went back to looking at your phone, but he didn’t get the signal. The suggestions he kept throwing your way made you want to gag.

Thankfully, a flight attendant did see you become uncomfortable for a while, and she, in a few minutes, made her way to you.

“Ma’am, we do have a seat up front in business class. In case you are up for the offer?” She smiled sweetly at you but harshly at the man next to you.

You nodded and got up immediately. “I’d like that,” you said, smiling at your savior. “See ya,” you said bitterly to the man next to you and followed the flight attendant after getting your carry-on down from the cabin.

-------

The seats were plusher and nicer; you groaned in comfort when you sank yourself into it. You were sipping on some wine the flight attendant, the one that helped you, poured into a glass and handed over to you.

You gazed outside through the window, enjoying your peace and quiet, until someone cleared their throat in the aisle.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but I, um, I’m your neighbour for the next few hours,” the infamous blonde man chuckled shyly and scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry,” you got up quickly and allowed him to sidle past your seat and sit down, then he shoved his backpack under the seat in front of him. You sat back down and continued to sip on your wine, feeling a tad bit awkward sitting next to Captain America.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” he extended his hand.

You shifted the glass to your left hand, then told him your name while shaking his hand with your right. “I mean, yeah, I know who you are already. So…” you laughed nervously. He chuckled at your answer, “yeah?” To which you nodded again and went back to staring at the seat in front of you.

The lights in the plane dimmed, and you flagged down a flight attendant to hand your glass back to her. Members of the crew made their way up and down the aisle until three of them settled in three different sections of the plane to start the safety demonstration You listened mindlessly, while your heart jogged for a mile as the thought of sitting next to Steve Rogers finally sank in. He did listen to the safety demonstration and actually read the safety brochures, which were tucked into the seat in front of him. Soon, the flight attendants were preparing for take-off.

“What’s taking you to Washington?” Steve asked you, facing your direction. You made eye contact and saw the soft smile he threw your way; you instantly melted in your seat and smiled back.

“Oh, my sister is getting married,” you nodded and adjusted the neck pillow around your neck. He nodded and crossed his arms over his muscled chest. “I see.”

“What about you? I’m guessing something related to ‘Captain America’?” You chuckled nervously as you felt the plane rumble slightly. He laughed at your assumption, “you would think so, but no. Just wanted to visit the place again.”

You nodded in understanding but quickly reached for the armrest when the plane started speeding. You gripped the plastic hard and closed your eyes hard, trying to act normal when really you felt like you were in a washing machine.

“Here,” you heard him whisper. You slowly opened your eyes and saw the big open palm he was offering. You smiled in thanks, grateful for understanding, and intertwined your fingers with his before squeezing it for dear life as the plane lifted from the ground.

-------

You munched on the dry Biscoff’s they handed out during the second hour of the flight. From your peripheral, you saw Steve reading a book and at times glancing out the window.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for the… you know… the hand, during take-off,” you smiled nervously, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him and his reading. He looked up from his book and bookmarked his page before closing it. “Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he smiled at you, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

You always saw him on TV and in the trash magazines your roommate reads, never up close. And now that you were seated literally right next to him, you felt as though he’s just a regular person. It’s not like you can ask him ‘how were the 1940s’, you don’t know him on a personal level.

But you kind of do; you had to study about him in high school during history class. You know where and when he was born, the place where he grew up. Your thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the pilot’s voice that played through the plane. You couldn’t understand the gibberish he said. “What?”

“We’re about to hit some turbulence,” Steve translated for you, and your jaw dropped.

“Great, more reasons as to why I should’ve driven,” you rubbed your eyes.

 He laughed at your annoyance towards the plane you were currently flying in.

You glanced at the book he was reading and saw the title. You instantly had to hold your laugh back as you recognized the ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’ book cover.

“Harry Potter, huh?” You pointed at the book in his lap. He looked down at it and nodded. “A friend of mine recommended it. Have you read it?”

You nodded quickly, “oh yeah, it was one of my favourites as a kid.” He smiled at your response.

“I’m a George Weasley girl, all the way. He’s such an underrated character,” you told him as your eyes moved from the book to him.

“Yeah, I think you could say that. But I would say that Hagrid is underrated as well,” he said, adding to your statement. You nodded along, “that is actually quite true, yeah.”

A moment of silence passed before he broke it. “If you don’t mind me asking, you mentioned about going to a wedding?” he asked, craning his neck to face you. You nodded, affirming his assumption.

“Are you going alone?” That made you raise your brows in pure shock.

“Uh, I—yeah,” you shook the confusion from your head. “Why?” You smiled, wondering why he asked you the semi-personal question.

He tucked his chin to his chest a little bit before facing you with the slightest smirk on his face. “Oh, I just thought that a gorgeous woman like you would have been going with someone already.”

You snorted, “WOW.” You really couldn’t believe he just said that.

“Why is that funny?” he smiled at you, a tad bit confused. You chuckled, “I just-‘gorgeous women’? Really?”

He laughed along with you, “I can’t say I’m wrong.” You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent your grin from expanding any further.

------

The next hour or so was filled with you and Steve talking about home and what you two did back in the city.

“Stark Industries? Really?” Steve was genuinely shocked at the revelation of your workplace. He wondered how he never saw you before. He asked how it was, working as a Data Analyst for Tony, and you replied saying that Tony can be immature sometimes, but he does treat you as an equal, unlike your previous jobs.

The flight went smoothly, and you and Steve were in constant conversation. You thought that you never had a conversation this good before. You were actually a bit disappointed when the pilot announced that the plane was about to land soon.

-------

“Need a hand?” Steve asked when he saw you struggling to get your carry-on from the cabin.

“Yeah,” you nodded sheepishly. He flashed you with one of his million-dollar smiles and effortlessly brought your carry-on down from the overhead shelf. You said your thanks and replied with a ‘No problem’.

-------

Steve finally got all of his bags, but you were still standing next to the belt awaiting your final one.

“I guess this is where we part,” you laughed nervously, toying with the strings of your hoodie.

You saw it in his face; he didn’t want to leave you just yet. And you were thankful for that because you didn’t too.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he smiled, but this time it was sad.

This was bad, really bad. You both didn’t want to leave the other.

“Have a good Christmas,” he finished the sentence off with your name, and your heart fluttered with how it rolled off his tongue. Why did you heart flutter?

You both smiled sadly at each other for the final time before he reluctantly parted ways. Why did he hesitate?

💌💌💌

Genuinely upset you couldn't get your man @yiiiikesmish, hope this helps you soothe your woes babes.

Again, if any of you lovelies want be added to the taglist. Please comment here!!🤗🤗🤗

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[luvo27]

Jammer talking to his mom after receiving his letter questioning whether or not he should go to bird school: the initial excitement has died down, he’s not sure he wants to leave his friends and most importantly, his family behind. His mom wants what’s best for him and tells him to go, he tells her he’ll visit as often as he can, or write or text or email, he doesn’t know if the wifi will be good or not. He tells her he’ll work hard, study hard, learn hard, etc. so when he comes back, he’ll be able to help out more

Jammer gets CPR certified after his second time visiting LEEP. After the first time he went with his college basketball team, he’d sent Jewel an email asking about if they needed any extra help or if they had open volunteer hours. She’d sent back an effusively enthusiastic response, telling him he’d be welcome any time. After he went back the second time, she’d emailed him some extra resources he could use if he wanted to continue volunteering, including links to several different cpr certification classes he could take. It’s so inconsequential and he’s probably never going to have to use it anyways, it never crosses jammer’s mind to tell his friends about it.

Theres a kid at leep that freaks jammer out (but he still likes her because she somehow manages to be a sweet kid anyways) who talks in a fake british accent and has an imaginary friend named cassandra

a Jammer and Evan conflict, in the way that people who care deeply about each other but have opposing worldviews conflict. It’s not an argument so much as highly charged conversation about their opposing moralities and what they will or will not do for each other. Evan loves his friends enough to kill for them, jammer loves his friends enough to bring them back to life. Jammer doesn’t want his friend to kill anyone, evan doesn’t understand how jammer doesn’t understand it’s out of love. The source of all conflict between evan and jammer is that jammer believes that people are inherently good and want to help people because he wants to help people, and evan believes that people are inherently bad because he thinks he’s inherently bad.

jammer realizing that he's not allowed to leave when he tries to visit home. he already feels terrible for missing the holidays with his family. (Thanksgiving without his mom and grandparents? Christmas without his mom and grandparents?) maybe one of his family members is sick. maybe he's trying to go home to help them. the rest of his friends are fine staying, they're find not being able to leave, but Jammer? he can't leave his people. the problem is that in order to be there for his people, he has to leave his people. they're supportive, they tell him to go home and take care of his family, they tell each other they'll keep in touch, jammer's gonna watch all of sam's livestreams, they'll text and facetime, they're not going to stop being friends. jammer gets home. he tries to be the person he remembers being, so he can support his family in the way he remembers doing. due to the nature of being human, he fails. he starts telling people that he bought spalding from temu

[violettathepiratequeen]

Ranking the Top 75 Spuffy Moments

In preparation for this study of all the episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer I'm gonna be starting here soon, I compiled a list of my top 75 Spuffy moments.

Actually I compiled a list of every single Spuffy moment (moments that either have a Spike and Buffy interaction, an action that is a result of Spuffy, or someone alluding to Spuffy in some relevant way) and there are 515 of them. 515!!

But I knew I'd only want to talk about the best in my rambles about this show, so I ranked my top 75. Because 50 leaves out a lot of really GOOD stuff, and 100 had me picking moments that were good, but no better than the other 415 I was leaving behind anyway. So 75 felt like a sweet spot of the very BEST of the best, while still knowing there's so many great ones that went unsaid.

So here is my list of that top 75, if you want to know!

Buffy asks Spike to stay and hold her (Touched)

Spike kissing her hair, holding her close while everyone else is sexing (Touched)

Spike’s “you’re the one” speech (Touched)

Buffy wakes up in Spike’s arms (Touched)

Porch scene #1 (Fool For Love)

Spike sees Buffy coming down the stairs, 147 days (After Life)

“It was the best night of my life” (End of Days)

Spike comes to Buffy with a truce (Becoming Part 2)

“I believe in you, Spike” (Never Leave Me)

Buffy finds and rescues Spike (Showtime)

Invitation, “I’m counting on you to protect her,” “You treat me like a man” (The Gift)

Spike tells Buffy about the soul, hangs himself on a cross (Beneath You)

Porch scene #2 (Flooded)

Spike comes to Buffy on Thanksgiving (Pangs)

Kissing behind the Bronze (Once More With Feeling)

Faith as Buffy flirts with Spike (Who Are You?)

Spike proposes, Spuffy hug and Buffy cries (Something Blue)

Buffy kisses Spike, “I won’t forget it” (Intervention)

Fighting and breaking the house, kissing and destroying the rest of the house (Smashed)

Spike’s dream and realization (Out of My Mind)

Spike gets his soul (Grave)

Spike watching Buffy dance (School Hard)

Kissing in the Bronze (Tabula Rasa)

Sleeping on the cot together (Chosen)

“I love you.” “No you don’t, but thanks for saying it” (Chosen)

“You’re something… you’re better than this” (Doublemeat Palace)

“Stay here, and help me be quiet” (Help)

“She does, because she believes in me” (Bring on the Night)

“Because I’m not ready for you to not be here” (First Date)

Spike stops Buffy from dancing to death (Once More With Feeling)

“She will come for me” (Showtime)

“We can either repair it or remove it” (The Killer in Me)

Buffy interrogates Spike, “God help me, Buffy, it’s still all about you” (Sleeper)

Spike tackles Buffy, they wrestle over the rocket launcher (Him)

“She’ll tell you. Someday she’ll tell you” (Help)

Spike cries over Buffy’s death (The Gift)

Spike reads the gang the riot act (Touched)

Spike asks for help, she agrees (Sleeper)

“What did you do, Buffy?” Kissing dream (Dead Things)

Spike patrols with the Scoobies and babysits Dawn (Bargaining 1 and 2)

“I don’t need your mollycoddling” (Him)

Radioactive dress (Hell’s Bells)

“I’m drowning in you, Summers” (Crush)

Buffy tells him about heaven (After Life)

Buffy checks on Spike first when the fight is over (First Date)

“You sent away the one person who’s been watching my back” (Empty Places)

“He can be a good man, Giles” (First Date)

“Ready, Randy?” “Ready, Joan” (Tabula Rasa)

“The soul, the changes, it’s what you wanted” (Get it Done)

“Who did this?” “Spike” (Chosen)

Buffy visits, Spike's promise, "Every night I save you" (After Life)

Rest in Peace (OMWF)

Buffy takes her family to Spike’s, Spike agrees to watch them (Checkpoint)

“Out for a walk, bitch” (No Place Like Home)

Spike offers her a hand up (Listening to Fear)

“Buffy, I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay” (Potential)

Double date… with Harmony and Parker (The Harsh Light of Day)

Lying to Joyce, Buffy reveals her secret (Becoming Part 2)

Buffy feeds Spike in the bathtub (Something Blue)

Spike grabs a sword over her head (Spiral)

“Feel like a bit of the rough and tumble?” (All the Way)

Buffy pins Spike to the table (Lovers Walk)

Choreography of the second Slayer fight (Fool For Love)

“Just getting what I came for, love” (Gone)

Buffy gives Spike a cloth to wipe his bloody nose (The Killer in Me)

Buffy feeds Spike in her bedroom (Never Leave Me)

“Hey, you still with us?” (The Killer in Me)

“I tried to get it out” (Lessons)

Spike gives her his blessing (First Date)

Spike’s smile watching Buffy’s “blech” face (Life Serial)

“We’re family” (Family)

Cards early in the morning (Older and Far Away)

“Good fight” (All the Way)

“Teenage hormone bomb” (Blood Ties)

“Tell me you love me” (As You Were)

I use the term "moment" loosely because sometimes it's a line, sometimes a scene, sometimes a couple different things in the span of the same five minutes, but what I considered to be wrapped up until the sweet vague title of "moment." These were selected based on how significant they are, how memorable they are, how romantic they are, how much I personally like them.

The way I ranked these was sort of similar to me ranking the episodes, except that I actually wrote all 515 in a list and circled my faves for each season, whittled the full number down to 75, and then ranked them by top 5, and top 5 again, all the way down the list.

Again this is just my opinion, not based on polls or stats, and as there truly are 440 Spuffy moments not listed here, I know you'll see some of your faves missing! But these are mine.

[queen-scribbles]

Okay, so. In the spirit of that 'letting people be there for you' post I reblogged earlier, here's a personal update I was really, really, REALLY hoping I wouldn't have to make.

(before anyone gets worried, it's not me, I'm okay as circumstances allow, but family health stuff under the cut)

My mom's been fighting cancer for the past eight years. There was a one year remission in there after the initial discovery and treatment before it came back, so this round has been six years. She's moved though different chemo-lite medications like ibrantz etc, had to switch to actual chemo just before Thanksgiving 2023. And it was working. The lesions were shrinking and disappearing, it was going away. Until this past September. When it was discovered that the stupid fucking cancer had migrated to her bones. So they switched chemo cocktail. Found out just before this Christmas it wasn't working. She had several multi-day hospital stays between November and December, the last of which was over a week, starting Dec. 23, so we wound up not having Christmas until she came home on new year's.

There isn't anything else that will work. So she transitioned to hospice home care, oncologist was talking in terms of months to live. I'll spare you all the medical details, but we're talking multiple tumors, fluid buildup around her lungs(Dad's been draining that p much daily), on oxygen, all that.

This morning she woke up super confused, my aunt who's visiting to help called the home care nurse, it could be next stage transition for end of life, could be just she took too much of a medication last night. I had some errands to run, not much good I can do at home, so I go do that, praying super fucking hard it's the medication one. Come back to the update NOPE the nurse thinks it's the next stage end of life. Now, barring a miracle, we're talking days. Maybe a couple weeks if we're lucky.

I just

My parents are great. They've always been loving and encouraging and supportive and our family is all super close and this sucks. It sucks so much. Stupid fucking bullshit cancer.

I've been hoping one of the treatments would work. That she'd go back in remission and get more time. She just turned sixty, for crying out loud. Normally there'd be another 20 years before we had to worry about losing her, she'd get to watch Starfish grow up, see any other grandkids that come along.

I feel like I should apologize for keeping all this to myself for so long and then dropping an update like this, but in a weird way I liked having somewhere where that wasn't a known part of my life? So I had somewhere I wasn't always being asked about it and having to think about it and this has always been my fandom/escapist place so it made sense to my brain to not mention it. I was meaning to say something when we got the 'months to live' news, but I've been dragging my feet. Don't feel like I can drag them any more.

I just wanted y'all to know what's up with me if I go quiet for a few days, or there's less writing, or--as I suspect will happen--there's a near-manic amount more and it's all fix-it, fluff, and fuck-it-eucatastrophe-time type stuff. I feel like I'm gonna use fic to cope; I can't fix real life but I can fix my characters' lives.

I love my mom and I'm worried about my dad(he's been joking for twenty years he doesn't know what he'll do if she goes first and well. fuck cancer) and I hate this. so. much.

[llamaisllama777]

... Oh, they better fix this soon, or it's gonna be a VERY sad Thanksgiving and Christmas!

Seriously, tho....thing are BAD right now, and I have a few possibilities/predictions for Earth and Luanr and what could happen next...

Earth predictions

1. Earth is left numb by the dark lighting.

Much like how Monty lost all feelings in his right??? Arm after fighting The Stitchwraith Earth will now have that same problem but all over her body cause that lightning spread everywhere! Leaving her in a lot of pain and then feeling numb for who knows how long?! I think for Monty, it lasted five months? So, Earth will be like this for the next five months... fun.

2. Earth is corrupted by the negative star power!

Turuas and Rez have mentioned it is possible to become corrupted by negative star power, and if there was an awful lot of negative star power, there. We've seen what happens to things that get corrupted by dark star power. (Dazzle's old body, those dark star creatures, and Nexus)

Earth will slowly become corrupted by the negative star power floating in her systems and turn into a corrupted!Earth! The Astrals will try to kill Earth while Sun, Moon, Solar, Monty, and Lunar (and possibly Eclipse) will try to save Earth and find a way to uncorrupt her, and they will hopefully succeed in saving her.

3. Earth dies!

Yes, you read that right! Earth dies! Earth's body will succumb to the corruption and die. Earth will die, and Lunar, Monty, and the whole family will be absolutely destroyed. Lunar will feel like a monster, Sun will have lost the only other sibling who cared for him and the one who made him realize he's not a bad person and that he does matter, Monty will lose the love of his life and might become the destroyer of worlds like how Golden Freddy said he would if Monty didn't meet the right people, Solar and Moon will have lost the sister they just gained, and Eclipse will have lost his first friend... needless to say, this is the WORST outcome! Lunar would go into hiding, Eclipse, Solar, Moon (And maybe Monty if he doesn't fall into a deep depression) will hunt down Lunar with the Astrals while Sun falls back into his deep depression and this may lead to Dark Sun offering Sun some kinda deal but who knows. Lunar will either be pushed into the hands of Rez and Cetus or will deny them and go into hiding or fight against them like some kind of Rouge star!Lunar.

4. Earth will be fine in like a day or two.

So, remember how Monty said he would go and remake that small red box that F.C. has in his chest and use it to protect them from all the dark star power entities... well, that box can absorb negative star power, and he'll use it on Earth and instantly heal her. (Or the Astrals will purify Earth's body, and she will be fine)

But even though she'll be healed, mentally, she'll be scarred. She almost got killed by one brother, and now she almost got killed again by another one of her brothers. She would be DONE!

She tried to be nice, she tried to be friendly and do the right thing but here we are! She would either leave and stay with Monty forever and rarely visit them or Alternatively leave and go on vacation to get away from them all but her dad will probably come and kidnap her or convince her to come back with him cause she just got backstabbed again by another family member! Whether she'd go with him or tell him to get lost and get kidnapped I don't know? We'll have to see.

Lunar predictions

1. Lunar will go into hiding, i.e... skip town(leave this dimension)

Lunar having just injured the person who cared about him the most and helped him get back on the right track mentally in the very first episode of LAES, Lunar now being hunted by The Astrals, The Dark Astrals, having ruined his relationship with his sister and Gemini he will leave this dimension and go to Eclipse and Puppet's dimension and Lunar will be forced to confront his hatred on Eclipse and the two will probably fight for a bit before coming to some kinda of closure probably with Eclipse apologizing for all the abuse he put Lunar through and Lunar will finally be able to move on and accept what happen and be able to continue his positive training and hopefully make amens with everyone... (If Earth isn't dead)

2. Lunar will become a Dark Astral (reluctantly)

These powers were meant to help Lunar, and now they just hurt his sister! Lunar will be done with all this star power poo and Dark star power poo! But Rez will show up and convince Lunar he's already messed up so much and Earth and the others will probably never want to see him ever again and Lunar at his lowest will believe him and leave to become Dark!Lunar (Think Anikian Skywalker and Emperor Palpatine sort of deal) and it will take maybe months before Lunar sees them all again and he'll be (reluctantly) evil and will be all sad and bad until someone (Maybe Earth, Gemini, or Eclipse) will convince Lunar to come back to the side of light and Lunar will betray Rez and help take him and Cetus down!

3. Lunar will go into hiding... with Gemini!

Turuas is now coming to kill Lunar cause he will see Lunar as a threat (fair, sadly). Gemini will probably try to smooth things over, but Turuas won't listen, and Lunar and Turuas will fight, Turuas will try to kill Lunar, and right before he does Gemini will step in and save him. The two would go into hiding to avoid The Astrals and The Dark Astrals. Now, don't think Gemini will do this out of love they're doing this to save him. Any love for him is out the window! They're only doing this cause they want to save Lunar and try to understand why he did. Not cause they love him! That's out the window right now!

Lunar and Gemini will work together to figure things out and hopefully help Earth (if she's corrupted or dead, and they'll try to purify her or resurrect her.) And try to defeat Cetus, Rez and try to protect themselves (and maybe Earth) from the Astrals.

That's all I think could happen. Let me know what you all think/what you think will happen, but no matter what happens...

It's gonna be a very very sad Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.

Lunar and Earth's relationship may never be the same.

Kat, Davis, Reed, please... DO NOT KILL EARTH!

I WILL BE SO SAD IF YOU DO!