#that like the dad from fairly odd parents and the neighbor

[sugar-plum-obito]

the funniest thing about the uchiha and senju beef is that these bitches have been beefing since the first ever uchiha and senju (indra and ashura) AND THEY STILL CHOSE TO BE FUCKING NEIGHBORS

[bluepoodle7]

#HouseImagesIFoundInteresting #WeirdHouses #HouseWithChimneyPlush #WeirdHouseRealtorIdeas #InfectedRealtorAu #MyThoughts

Just looking up weird houses and found a house plush I want.

I always I find weird or ugly houses interesting and the interior being a little off.

I wonder what the lure body will look like.

If I finally draw all my infected realtor house oc's these might be new ones.

My lure body guesses.

The monster house just a person with a lot of hair but is like a normal human or just has a beard while looking wolfman like with a cartoon house with chimney fungmammal.

(Monster House)

And the instrument shaped house looking like a famous composer and has a music note Stingray fungmammal.

Looks like a bootleg I.M Meen CDI like character in both look and movement.

(Instrument House)

The curved house being like the crooked man in design wise and has a stoplight fungmammal that changes into the base form.

If the instrument house had a theme be like.

I image the lurebody playing on a piano while the house flesh body tries to capture the buyer.

Music not mine.

Attack of the Killer Queen (Unused Version) - Deltarune (youtube.com)

(Curved House)

I can imagine the shoe house lure realtor being a shoe maker on the side and kicking other Realtors in the shin if they get close to a buyer they want.

Shoemaker elves would be this Realtor's fungmammal shape.

(Shoemaker House)

The airplane house lure would be female looking with disheveled clothes like this Realtors lure was in a crashed plane.

The parasite fungmammal is a Silky anteater and doesn't want to be a parasite one but is a glitched mutualism one.

He used to be a Falseperson but after being fired and angry changed into a parasite one then gave up being humanoid.

When she gets a buyer in the crashed plane house body will make the plane body move like it is flying but is in place then act like the plane is nose diving by the gases from the house.

Thinking about making a infected Realtor based of bear and have him be the main singer of the Nosy Neighbors band with Jack Black as the voice canon.

This infected Realtor having a thicc male body type Realtor that is nice and doesn't eat people.

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

Thinking about fleshing out these weird houses in the images into Infected Realtors.

Maybe making them be in a band called the Nosy Neighbors.

Also my sitcom of Infected Realtors is getting huge dude.

Basically this.

Scott pilgrim vs the world, WE ARE!! Sex Bob-omb!! 1 2 3 4!!! (youtube.com)

My oc Fable in Zable's vessel body trying to get in the non accessible areas of a REALTORs house body be like.

Images and video not mine but link is there.

Fairly Odd Parents- Timmy's Dad's View of Privacy - YouTube

Images and video not mine but links are there.

Happy Home Mascot, A Fully Customizable Plush House for Your Promotion | Best Plush, Inc

Artist transforms parents' home into the ultimate monster house | Halloween haunted houses, Halloween house, Halloween home decor (pinterest.com)

Most Unusual Houses in the World (mcintyreproperty.com.au)

Weirdest Houses In The US (onlyinyourstate.com)

MyBestPlace - The Haines Shoe House, The Man Who Lived in a Shoe

I UGLY HOUSES. - HomeVestors of America, Inc. Trademark Registration (uspto.report)

Ugly Houses | Unusual Homes Around the World | HouseLogic

When threatened, the silky anteater, like other anteaters, defends itself by standing on its hind legs and holding its fore feet close to its face so it can strike any animal that tries to get close with its sharp claws. | Photo by Brian Wilcox : r/Awwducational (reddit.com)

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

SO's Bookclub : Spirit Seeker

Title: Spirit Seeker Author: Joan Lowery Nixon Genre: YA Mystery

Goodreads Summary :

     Holly Campbell’s life has suddenly become a newspaper-headline nightmare. The parents of her friend Cody Garnett have just been found in their home, brutally murdered, and Cody is the main suspect. Holly’s father is the police detective in charge of the investigation, and even he thinks the evidence points right at Cody.          Holly knows it’s up to her to prove what she believes it the Cody is innocent. Against her father’s wishes, secretly crossing the barrier of police tape and television reporters that surrounds the Garnetts’ house, she begins her own investigation. Computer files, an odd neighbor, and a mysterious psychic—each might have the evidence Holly needs to help Cody. Or they could all be red herrings that will waste Holly’s precious time.

Review :

You know, it's interesting - after kind of turning the 90s corner, JLN's books have been, if nothing else, changing it up some. So I guess it's no surprise when she kind of backpedals easily into something that feels stuck in the 80s.

The plot of this one has already been done before -- it's very much The Stalker, though throws on an added supernatural-ish element. We're back in Texas, we're back in small town land where everyone is up in everyone else's business. We're back to a plucky protagonist who is annoyingly stubborn (but at least unlike The Stalker, Holly reaches out to people for help and is way less annoying.)

I've even picked up on another trope -- the delicate wife/mom who is suffering depression. Makes me kind of wonder for old JLN - because there's been a whole string of these books where the mom is just in a bad mental state and just kind of there and out of it as the rest of the story plods along.

The biggest issue with this book is that it is really boring. And while already short, could have been half the length. I still got through this one in a few hours - but I struggled with it.

The plot revolves around Holly finding out that the boy she has been sorta involved with (these books just don't go near the girls having full fledged relationships) is suspected for the murder of his parents. And of course, she's going to figure out what really happened.

Not a whole lot happens in the first half of the book. Her dad is the detective working on it -- so we get a lot of second hand information. Holly doesn't have to do much. There's a subplot where Holly's parents are having marital problems but that doesn't take much time. It's mostly a lot of Holly repeatedly stating that her guy - Cody - didn't do it.

Then, half way through - she meets this kinda crazy older woman who says she has psychic powers - and that Holly is gifted and can use her own powers. It's a bit of a left turn, but at least adds something interesting to this somewhat boring story. The book doesn't go full on supernatural -- there's enough doubt put out there that Holly's 'powers' could be circumstantial. And the book still relies on classic investigation over anything else.

The mystery of who did it, however, turns out to be kind of bland. There really aren't that many suspects - and I kinda figured it'd be the person it was fairly early on (even though I didn't remember much of anything from this book). There is one tense moment in the middle of the book -- and I always hand it to JLN -- she can really do the atmosphere of being alone in a spooky house. But otherwise, there's nothing ornately scary about the book.

I think the only thing that had me thinking was the fact that this book felt like the ones she was writing in the 80s. Other than the reference to Holly using a computer to dig through files (and even an internet mention!) nothing remotely screamed 90s. The way everyone acted still screamed 80s -- which I found interesting since the last few books seemed to have moved along with the times.

Ah well, I'm rambling in this one.

Rating : 3 stars. Not bad, not good, really boring, and very derivative of earlier books.

[well-fuuuck]

The Link's Parents

These are just some headcanons I had on the Link's biological parents (or where I give the boys more trauma than they already have). I have a lot more thoughts on this topic than I originally thought, so this is a long post lmao.

Just a slight warning, this post does contain some triggering topics - bad parenting, absent parents, parents dying, alcoholism, allusions to abuse, allusions to suicide (nothing too explicit, and I don't think its too bad, but just as a warning)

So just stay safe, my friends

Warriors - he came from a poor family that lived in a poor area of castle town. His dad worked two jobs, so was rarely home while his mom was a seamstress. She worked from home, taking odd jobs from neighbors and fixing and making their clothes. Warriors has a sister (hi Linkle), but his parents weren’t able to feed so many mouths. When Linkle and Warriors were 9, they sent Linkle to a family friend who lived on a farm where she grew up to be a shepherd. It devastated them to send her away, but they wouldn't have lasted through the winter with so many mouths. When Warriors turned 18 he joined the knights, mainly just so he could earn money that he could send to his parents. A lot of people died during the war with Cia - including his parents.

Time - His father was a knight of Hyrule and his mom was a shopkeeper in castle town. They met during the Hyrulean civil war - Time’s father had gotten severely hurt and his mom had volunteered to be a nurse out in the field. His mom was treating his dad and they hit off. Because of his dad’s injury, he was sent home away from the war. They never married (their relationship was more of a fling than anything else), but had Time, and the war got worse. Time’s dad was sent off to fight again after he recovered from his injury but died in battle. This resulted in his mom entering Kokiri forest (to escape the war, but also she never had wanted to be a mother in the first place) and leaving Time there.

Twilight - his parents were young, dumb, and in love when they had him. His father thought he had been ready for fatherhood but heavily underestimated how much energy and time and selflessness it took. The father left the picture fairly early on (twi was probably around 2 or 3). Twi doesn’t remember his father at all. His mom stayed and cared for him until one day it had just been too much. Being a single mom is hard, and she couldn't handle it anymore (much like the father). The only thing Twi remembers is the image of his mother’s back walking away from him, leaving him to his own devices in an unfamiliar forest. He was eight and was still eight when Rusl found him, covered in dirt, twigs, and other various kinds of muck. Twilight doesn’t remember how long he was in Faron woods alone or how he even managed to stay alive by himself.

Hyrule - I'm pretty sure it's canon that Hyrule is a foreigner? Like he's not Hyrulean, which is kinda ironic considering his hero title. Anyway, his parents come from a far-off land across the ocean somewhere (who cares about the destination? I sure don't). Hyrule got his adventurous spirit from his mother, who was constantly traveling and finding new places to explore. His father was a hunter. The two met when his father found his mother trying to help a rabbit get his foot out of a bear trap. The rabbit would have been Hyrule's father's dinner, but his mom was adamant about healing the rabbit. The two hated each other at first, but they kept running into each other. Eventually, his father found Hyrule's mom in a precarious situation involving vines, a monster, and a broken leg. The two eventually were able to talk, get closer as Hyrule's mom's leg healed, and they had Hyrule. When Hyrule was still a baby (a year or two at most) there was a major outbreak of some serious sickness. Everyone who got sick died. When Hyrule's parents got sick, they didn't want Hyrule to fall to the same sickness - so they sent him away with some other people who were leaving on a boat to a land called Hyrule. A place that would be safe from the sickness.

Wild - well, it’s canon that his dad was a knight, we all know this. But he had two dads, one a knight, the other a chef in the town of Hateno. The two had met when the knight was stationed in Hateno for a while. The chef would cook meals for the knights, and maybe he would make a little extra something for that one special knight with the pretty blue eyes. And who wouldn't fall in love with a chef that cooked you special meals and flirted with you till sundown? So the two eventually got married and had Wild through a surrogate. When Wild was 3 they had another baby through another surrogate, a baby girl. Wild would grow up to be a knight like his father, and grow up to love cooking just as much as his other dad.

Legend - I know a lot of people are a fan of Legend being Zelda's sister...but meh. I'm just gonna create a whole new story for Legend's parents. Both of his parents were Hyrulean knights, both were stationed in Kakariko village (which is how they originally met). Legend's dad spent weeks trying to 'woo' his mom (Legend's mom was already infatuated with the guy from the start, but she liked the attention he was giving her when she teased him). The two dated for a long time before getting tying the knot (they dated for five years, then married on a whim without telling anyone). They were also married for a while before having Legend (almost another 5 years). Legend grew up with two happy parents for about ten years, before his mom was killed in a robbery gone wrong. His dad did not take it well, he stopped showing up to work, stopped eating, drinking, he stopped taking care of himself. Legend doesn't really remember how long that period of his life lasted, but he knew when it ended. His dad couldn't live without the love of his life, so he went to go be with her. From then on Legend went to live with his uncle.

Wind - his parents were childhood best friends on Outset Island. They grew up together and, honestly, married out of convenience. Don't get me wrong, they genuinely did love each other but it was more platonic than romantic. They had Wind, and four years later they had Aryll. They were...okay parents, if not a tad neglectful. Wind's mom never actually wanted to be a mom, but what else was there to do on a tiny island that she couldn't get away from? So, she held a small bitterness towards her children, felt as if they were anchoring her even more to the island. The father was happy to stay on the island; he was a very peaceful, go with the flow kinda guy. But he knew his wife wasn't happy, so in turn, he wasn't happy either. For their tenth anniversary, they decided to take a vacation. They had heard about Windfall Island and decided that it would be nice to have a getaway for their anniversary. They left Wind and Aryll with their grandma, told them they would be back in two weeks, and set out for Windfall. Wind and Aryll anxiously awaited the two week mark, but when it finally came there was no sign of their parents. Wind doesn't know if his parents got caught in a storm and got lost (or died), or just...decided to not come back. (you can choose whichever option you like best, but either way its sad so)

Sky - his parents were a bit of a...controversial topic among the Skyloftians. The two had known each other for a while, not friends just acquaintances, really. When they were 17 they decided to...ah have some fun time, the horizontal tango if you will. Anyway, that ended up with Sky being born to the two of them, with the couple not even married yet. They decided to not get married, though, because they didn’t love each other and knew that if they married it would just create bitterness between the two of them. So they raised Sky between the two of them just as friends and quickly became best friends. One year, maybe a year or 2 before the events of Skyword Sword, a plague hit Skyloft. Sky’s parents were two unfortunate ones that died early on from the plague.

Four - His parents were really in love and were a popular couple around town. They had been childhood friends, and that developed into them falling in love and marrying. They were married for two years before getting pregnant. Unfortunately, Four’s mom died in childbirth. His dad was wrecked after his wife died and drowned himself in some liquid courage. Four's dad was almost always drunk and couldn't take care of Four. Four’s dad ended up giving Four’s custody over to Grandpa Smith (four was probs around 2 or 3). Four doesn’t see his dad very often and doesn’t have any positive feelings towards him. Grandpa Smith and Four were close before his adventures - but they got even closer when Four needed help with the splitting and re-merging himself together.

[nikkywrites]

The Superhero Next Door // Part One

Summary: Starla moves in with her sister. Things get better. Then she notices her new neighbor and not in a good way.

Based off this prompt/idea by @caffeinewitchcraft

This one has been reworked a bit. Still the same story though, just fixed how Starla notices Duke, basically. That’s the biggest change.

*****

"That would be a literal blessing," her sister says, sighing into the phone with hope that pierces through the static of low reception.

"Well," Starla sighs, hand on her hip, looking at the stacked boxes in her apartment, artfully ignoring the eviction notice laying on the kitchen counter. "I kind of don't have a place to live past Thursday, so I don't have much of a choice."

"Well, you're always welcome to come take the guest room."

Starla rubs the bridge of her nose. "I can't afford any rent, though."

"You don't need to pay rent, " Melissa insists, words garbled by the piercing sound of a crying baby. There's some rustling, sound muffled as she deals with the crying newborn. "You're my sister,” she continues, voice softer as she soothes the baby, practically cooing. "It's no problem and you'd be doing me a huge favor anyways, with the kids."

"Okay," Starla says, nodding to herself, like she has options and a choice. "Let's do it."

So she moves in.

It’s what’s best for both them, what with Starla’s apartment block being torn down to place a strip mall, and with Melissa having two new babies that she was raising solo. This was better for both of them, and it would help restore their bond that had been neglected since they had both reached adulthood and thrown themselves into work and romance.

This was good.

Starla moves in easily, happy to be closer to her sister and niece and nephew, but missing the busyness of city life.

She’s a babysitter now. Glorified, with her lack of rent, and definitely overpaid, but still a babysitter.

It’s exhausting, so maybe not so much overpaid or glorified. Maybe she had underestimated the amount of work and attention two babies took.

Watching one baby is difficult, but two? It’s the only thing that fills her day, and it does a fantastic job of doing so. It takes time, and after only a few days, she’s become adept at holding them both at once and caring for both of their needs.

She’s becoming a good aunt, she thinks. A solid second parent to the tiny babies who will never meet the man tied to them by blood. It’s hard, but she loves them and that makes it worth it.

It doesn’t take long for her to familiarize herself with the neighbors. 

Casey from down the block walks her two Shepherd mixes twice a day every day. Mat from across the street brings his sons to the park three days a week. Leslie jogs at six in the morning before work. Jake brought her a welcoming tin of muffins when he noticed that she’d moved in, a joint gift from him and his wife. Kay from the end of the road hosts a weekly hang out that she kindly sent her an invitation to alongside a welcome note.

None of them are who catches her attention, though. It’s Duke, who is her new direct neighbor who catches her eye. She’s never bumped into him or anything, but she’s acutely aware of his existence.

She’s-- she doesn’t mean to spy, but she’s sure that he’s no normal neighbor.

She’s fairly convinced that he’s a Super, actually.

No one in the neighborhood suspects, no idle gossip whispered when she questioned about the new neighbor who hasn’t bothered (or noticed) that someone new has moved into the house next door. He’s fairly secluded among everyone.

He doesn’t go to Kay’s hangouts. He’s just home to sleep, everyone says. He’s not a social guy. He does, though, travel into the city pretty often for hours at a time. Some of it is on a schedule.

Some of it is not.

Starla has... perhaps checked the news when he does, to see how often it lines up with city Super sightings, but it doesn’t enough for obvious eyebrows to be raised. But she knows that Supers don’t always go out in suits when they’re working, so it’s an iffy measurement from the start.

It doesn’t damn or clear him.

Not much would. But she’d find what she had to. If he was low-level, she’d be fine with it. It was the high tiers who couldn’t escape from their work. Who’s work followed them after they shrugged off the suit and the mask and the name.

It was fine if he wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t planning on outing him. She just needed to know if he was safe.

After she learned that, she’d leave him be.

It’s his fault for being obvious. He comes home bruised and battered from an office job. He has odd hours. He’s left for the city at night a time or two, speeding out of his driveway in a hurry. No one has ever been in his house. No one has said anything more then hello or good morning to him. He was a ghost. A picture of what it looked like when someone was trying to be invisible.

It was suspicious. It had her gut rolling in unease.

Scones are how she decides to start. it’s polite to bake goods for neighbors and scones are bland enough he probably won’t hate them. It’ll open the door of her getting closer.

The twins are napping when she gets the chance to start throwing the batch together. She hopes they sleep for the hour or so it’ll take for her to throw it in the oven because she’s starting it from scratch. They don’t, of course, or more specifically, Cassie doesn’t.

She abandons the bowl of unmixed powders with liquid poured over the top like a faulty volcano to scoop up the crying baby.  “Hey baby,” she coos, swiping a finger over a soft, velvet cheek as she bounces softly. “Whatcha crying for, huh?”

She settles fairly quickly, her large eyes drifting down. Carefully, Starla sets her back into the rocker and returns to baking, sacrificing time for silence. 

They sleep through the rest of mixing and shaping into triangle-esque blobs. It’s after she sets the timer that they wake again, and she’s quick to go over and give them another feeding, and a diaper change for Benjamin.

Caring for them both had seemed impossible, at the beginning, but now it was as easy as breathing.

Her life is turning around, rising from the bland routine it had fallen into. A brightening comet that lights her night sky.

Things were much less stressful now. She enjoyed her day to day, which she didn’t before. She’d loved the city, but it hadn’t been kind to her and the eviction notice was just the straw that broke her. That sent her away. The suburbs were nice, too, though, and she was close enough to the city to be satisfied.

It was safer, too.

Or, it was statistically. She’d never suspected her apartment floormates or coworkers to be Supers. Now she was determined her neighbor was one. Now she was worried about it.

Back at her apartment, a ripped-up street was just another Thursday. Rubble blocking a road was normal. It hadn’t disturbed her too much. Life was boring.

It wasn’t now. And not just because of the twins. She had a mystery, too.

She likes mysteries. Puzzles and games and books. She likes to guess who the villain is, in thriller stories and in mystery books. She guesses right sometimes and she doesn’t on others, but she likes attempting. At trying to slot together all the little clues and dissecting the truth from a heap of mostly inconsequential evidence.

As a kid, she’d wanted to be a police officer. Her dad had watched a lot of crime shows and she’d liked watching them fit pieces together to bring justice. It looked fun, when it was on TV.

Then she grew up. She learned that police work was a lot more boring and restricting than the shows made it out to be. Cops were just second-rate overlooked heroes. They got all the paperwork. None of the glory. They did the stakeouts and the waiting. All of the parts that were a slog. Heroes got the benefits. Her fire had been snuffed out. but she still loved the idea of it.

She still likes solving mysteries. And even if she didn’t-- she doesn’t like the idea of someone dangerous living next to her family. 

What if a fight followed him home and a Super battle broke out? If Supers started fighting that close, there would be nothing she could do.

It was best she figured out what kind of Super her new neighbor was . If she was lucky, he was just a nonpowered, try hard vigilante. Which was kind of illegal, but not particularly dangerous. But that was if she was lucky. If she was unlucky, then they were in danger just because of their proximity to him.

Living in the city, she’d seen too many new reports of mangled office buildings, smoking apartment buildings, has seen too much of the wreckage fighting leaves behind on the streets and the buildings and the people. It had so much impact on people. It was a very destructive thing to happen.

There was a reason why most of city budget goes to upkeep and repair. Super battles break everything and because they’re doing good, they don’t face punishment.

Starla is pretty indifferent to Supers. She knows that they’re expensive and destructive. They’re good too. Now she just doesn’t want that near her sister and the babies.

She was going to figure out just how much danger they were in. Exactly how much.

She was going to figure out Duke’s secret identity.

*****

Done! This one was a struggle to do for some reason. I think it’s a tad better now, though.

[awkwardpaulie]

The Child (Pregnancy Part 3)

1. The Adopted

• The midwife escorts the baby throughout the process. They're present during the birth, the hospital stay, the adoption process. They foster the child for a bit, before sending them off with their new parents, with the letter of course.

• The new parents absolutely adore the child. They give them all the love and care in the world. They're doing their best at raising their first child.

• They stay in England, only leaving for vacations, birthdays, etc.

• The child is intelligent, developing fast, and inherit both you and Brahms qualities.

• But, the child is odd, nonetheless...

• It starts around age 5 with the rats that burrowed into the walls. They were found dead and dismembered.

• Then, the neighbor's pets go missing... corpses found in the woods, dismembered, disemboweled... displayed...

• At age 9, a mysterious arsonist causes terror for a while... trash bins set ablaze, then vehicles, then animal corpses...

• One day, the child has a mysterious burn on their arm when they return to their parents.

• The signs pile up and the parents know exactly what is happening.

• They know who the child will become and ask you and Brahms for help.

• They meant well when they read the letters. Their child was a baby when they read it. They were curious, honestly.

• The child is still young, around their preteens, when they read the letter. They want to meet you and Brahms.

• You welcome them with open arms, naturally. Brahms, though, hides in the walls.

• He doesn't want them to come back. They took your attention for almost 10 months. Now, they're coming back to take it back.

• The child is hesitant and cold at first, but slowly opens up as they observe you.

• While you and the parents talk, the child explores the house.

• Brahms watches them as they enter his childhood room. He hardly uses that since he stays with you in your room.

• Brahms comes out when he sees the child's burn scar.

• The child knows, maybe by intuition, that Brahms is their father.

"So... You're my dad..."

*Brahms nods slowly*

• The child opens up more easily to Brahms, feeling that he is like them... He is odd, like them...

"How did you get your scar?... I got mine from a wildfire... California... My mum and dad wanted to spend my birthday at Disneyland... Let's just say that California is always on fire, so adding one more won't be suspicious."

"... I tried to burn this place down... it didn't work."

• They sit at the small table to talk as the child plays with the puzzle toys.

"How old were you when you killed your first?... I haven't done mine, yet..."

"I was eight when I killed her..."

"Did you get away with it?"

"Not really."

• You find them in the room, talking about the best way to subdue a target.

"Okay, you guys can continue this later because lunch is ready. Come on, sweetie."

• Brahms holds your hand as both of you escort your child to the parlor room. Your child can see how enamored both of you are with each other.

• But, they don't really understand why you didn't want to include them with your little family...

• Your talk with the parents yielded an unusual plan for the child. You, basically, suggest turning the child into a Dexter Morgan-type serial killer.

• They're unsure, but you want them to keep an open mind.

• Before the family leaves, you tell the child that they're always welcomed back here. If they ever need anything, both you and Brahms are a phone call away.

• Brahms is still unsure about the child, but he wants to talk more with them... they're fascinating... they're more like him than he realized.

• You want to keep a hand extended to the family in case they're over their head. You've dealt with Brahms' similar behavior and through trial and error, things have been fairly smooth.

• Your child is amazed at how prepared and accepting you are of their oddities. Their friends come and go, therapists and psychiatrist ask for impossible requests or uncomfortable adjustments. Teachers reject them or ignore them.

• But you weren't disgusted or scared or upset... you only ask about their hobbies and respond with interest. No matter how graphic the details got.

"Oh, you dismembered a raccoon? How did you manage to catch one! Did you keep the pelt?"

"N-no, but the blood was fun and-and it scared the neighbors when they saw it on the road!"

• At the end of the visit, the child feels slightly better on their view towards their biological parents. 

• Brahms only tolerates the child because they seem more of himself in them.

• Of course, you adore the child. A little surprised that they’re showing psychopathic/sociopathic traits, but you only want them to be happy and safe.

[isetmyfriendsonfire]

i haven't had power for a whole day now and hearing the sound of my neighbor's generator is making me go insane literally his whole house was lit up last night fucking prick i feel like the dad from fairly odd parents and my neighbor is dinkleburg

[pickalilywrites]

hi everyone!!! here’s the eretra au that a few of you might remember from my wip posts a few months (?) ago! i’m really excited about it, so i hope you guys like it. it’s very loosely based off a kdrama called big, although there aren’t very many similarities. i hope you guys enjoy it :) 

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

My First Love Come Back to Me

Eretra. Big AU. 

I’ll Love You in the Rain or Shine Series: Chapter 1

12788 words. 

Read on Ao3!

Eren stands in the deli section of the grocery store staring down at the premade sandwiches that have, judging by the wilting lettuce and stiff-looking squares of cheese stuffed between dry bread buns, been sitting there all day after being passed over by other customers for more enticing premade meals like the colorful, little sushis in their plastic containers or the burritos so stuffed with filling that beans are practically spilling out of the tortilla wraps meant to contain them. He looks at one particularly sad-looking sandwich. Turkey chunks and droopy lettuce leaves are shoved inside a stale bread loaf. Tomato juice from the poor fruit that was cut to make this depressing sub bleeds out from the bun, dripping onto the plastic wrap that can hardly hold the thing together. A strange assortment of veggies also poke out from the bread - bright yellow bell peppers, chunky strips of carrots, and slices of onions - but they look as though someone has carelessly dropped them into the sandwich because they’re not even evenly dispersed through the sub. It is, Eren thinks, the most wretched sandwich he’d ever laid eyes on. 

It’s a little sad, the fact that Eren is spending so much time picking out something to bring to a family dinner that he would claim, if anyone bothered to ask, to not give a single shit about. And, really, he doesn’t, but it makes him feel slightly better about going to those miserable gatherings if he’s able to bring something he knows his stepmom will hate. Except she’s not really his stepmom. To be more precise, the woman is his father’s first and only wife - the bastard having never married Eren’s mother - and his half-brother’s mother. In all honesty, Eren can completely understand why the woman hates him. He is, after all, a constant reminder of his father’s infidelity. It’s not like Eren likes her either and, with all of the snide comments about his upbringing and disappointing career path (although Eren has no idea why that is any of her business), she hasn’t given Eren any reason to. 

Eren looks down at the sandwich again, leaning towards not getting it. As much as he would love to purchase it and slap it down on the dinner table with a cheerful smile, there are only so many times he can buy disgusting sandwiches for his family dinners. He really outdid himself last time with a self-made sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients (blue cheese, coriander, tuna, onions, cherry tomatoes, the works) that had no business being slapped between the same two buns. He even remembered not to toast the bread buns. Apparently, the only thing his father’s wife hates more than sandwiches are untoasted sandwiches, but not everyone can afford a $300 panini press like she can. Apparently, any panini press with a smaller price tag can’t be called a real panini press. Eren only half-regretted his decision to bring the disgusting thing to his father’s house an hour later when he sprinted out of the house and biked half a block away to empty the contents of his stomach on the edge of a poor neighbor's sidewalk. No, a normal deli sandwich would be a step down from his previous contribution to family dinner, Eren decides. 

He walks up and down the aisle of the grocery store, taking his time even though he’s already a half-hour late for dinner. (He’s doing them a favor. Nobody in their right mind should be having dinner at five when the sun is still high in the sky.) His green eyes glaze over tubs of soup and plastic bins filled with salad. For a moment, he wonders if he should walk through the shelves of chips on the other side or maybe into the frozen food section so he can haul a tub of melting ice cream to his father’s house, but he wonders if that’s too petty. It’s probably best not to, Eren thinks with a grimace. He doesn’t want to ruin junk food for himself forever. 

In the end, Eren purchases a little tub of potato salad, hoping that it’ll be enough to piss off his Disney-esque sort-of stepmother. It’s not perfect, but he supposes it will do. It’s probably not as grotesque as the stuff he’s brought before, but he likes how simple it is. That woman’s definitely going to be miffed that Eren bought potato salad as if he cared so little that he couldn’t be bothered to spend a few minutes in the kitchen to make the same dish. He’s really going to enjoy seeing the vein on her forehead pulse when she sees him standing at the door with the potato salad. 

Eren thanks the cashier for ringing up his purchase, sliding two dollars into the charity box next to the register, and walks away with his tub of potato salad, whistling as he practically skips out of the grocery store. He hadn’t taken as long as he would have liked; there are still fifteen minutes before six and he had hoped he would burn enough time to arrive at six-thirty, but maybe he can take a roundabout way to his dad’s house, Eren thinks as he drops the tub carelessly into the front basket of his bicycle. He unlocks his bike with a click and pulls it off the bike rack before mounting it and pedaling away. 

Taking the direct route would be too quick. Eren quickly pedals across the road as soon as the road is clear and finds his way to the creek that cuts across the suburbs. It’s the same creek Eren used to play beside when he was a child. He fell in there once trying to catch a frog and his mom scolded him for being so reckless. It’s also the same creek that he frequented during the spring of his sophomore year of highschool when he was assigned to do a bug project, which Eren hated especially when the same project was no longer mandatory after his school cut the science department’s funding the year after. Eren doesn’t think he’s visited the creek ever since he graduated from high school. He blames it on college and summer internships taking up all his time and never really allowing him to return to his youth, but the truth is that Eren wouldn’t have sought out his childhood even if he had the time. 

It’s not that Eren had a terrible childhood. In fact, Eren would say that he had a fairly happy childhood. True, he grew up in a (mostly) single-parent household, but his mother was always patient and attentive to him even though he was a pain the ass about 75 percent of the time. Nothing incredibly significant happened. He didn’t win any awards and he never made the honor roll, but his mother was fine with it as long as he did his best. It was strange, but he got a lot more shit about his grades from his sort-of stepmom than he did from his own mother. He’s not particularly sure what his father thought about it. Eren’s father never said much of anything to defend him, but his father hardly said anything to him at all. It was kind of like not having a father at all, so it wasn’t really that surprising when Eren found a way to avoid his old neighborhood completely after his mother passed away after his senior year of high school. 

Eren hadn’t planned on returning so soon. Actually, he hadn’t planned on returning at all after he had left for college. He only came back the summer after freshman year, but he bummed it at his best friend Armin’s house and only ventured as far as Armin’s front lawn. The following summers he crashed at his ex-boyfriend’s house - an art student-turned-tattoo artist who somehow ended up setting up a shop in the city Eren and Armin grew up in - or Armin’s dorm when they were both working at their internships. Somehow, they ended up landing jobs back in their hometown because evidently the big city did not want them and they were too young and broke to go up against the universe. Maybe another day. 

It’s not that bad. Despite renting an apartment near his neighborhood, Eren hasn’t run into any childhood friends that might still remember all the embarrassing things he did as a teenager. He’s bumped into a few parents at the grocery store that would smile up at him and talk about how nicely he’s grown while reaching up to ruffle his hair. Other than a few childhood friends and the “family” he feels obligated to meet due to the biological bond he unwillingly shares with his father, Eren has successfully avoided most of his past. 

He pedals past his old middle school, zooming past the gates and grimacing as he remembers the less pleasant parts of his past - struggling with algebra, running a mile at seven AM, and the terrible school uniforms they forced on everyone in a strange attempt to boost standardized test scores. He’s happier when he crosses the street and is greeted with the lit-up shops - the convenience store where he’d happily slurp down slushies with Armin after school, the Chinese restaurant that his class would frequent every year for Lunar New Year’s, and the bakery store that always smelled of freshly baked tarts and pies. Eren’s pedaling slows as he approaches the bakery and he inhales deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of buttery baguettes and chocolate tarts. The aroma is so distractingly sweet. His mouth begins to water at just the thought of them, and Eren wonders why he hadn’t bothered stepping foot in the bakery since coming back. He’s about to stop his bike and pop in for a brownie or a lemon bar only to realize that he’s biking far too fast and about to crash into someone. 

“Shit!” Eren’s bike screeches as he swerves out of the way and he crashes into a pole so hard that he can feel his teeth rattle. He topples to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he rolls over onto his side that didn’t get smashed violently against a pole. When he opens his eyes, he sees stars as well as the face of an old man that he had last seen a decade ago. Eren tries to sit up, but his side is throbbing and he can only clutch at his side, trying his best to suppress a groan so as to not startle the man he had nearly collided with. He gives the man a weak smile. “Hey, Mr. Ral. I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

The old man’s mouth, which was already open to begin with after seeing Eren’s embarrassing bicycle collision, falls open a bit wider. “A-are you … okay?” he asks after a while, squinting a bit as he looks at Eren’s face and tries to place a name to it. Eren doesn’t really blame him for not remembering who he is. It’s been quite a while since they’ve seen each other and Eren has grown up a lot since then.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bump,” Eren says, laughing it off. He manages to sit up and pushes himself off the ground, standing up and brushing off the little pebbles that have managed to stick to his face and clothing. He picks up his bike, leaning it against the pole before turning to the man again. “It’s Eren, by the way.” He pauses, observing Mr. Ral’s expression. When he sees that the man doesn’t recognize him, Eren politely adds, “Eren Kruger. I’m Zeke Jaeger’s younger brother.” 

A spark of recognition finally lights up in the old man’s eyes at the mention of Zeke’s name. Eren’s not going to lie, but it kind of hurts. “Ah, Zeke,” Mr. Ral says fondly. Eren shifts from feeling hurt to feeling slightly jealous. “How could I ever forget him? And you, of course. You two used to play with my dear Petra back in the day.” 

Petra, a name that Eren hasn’t heard in years, and yet hearing it still makes him blush like a young schoolboy. He ducks his head, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, and he prays that Mr. Ral doesn’t notice the sudden flush of his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How is, ah, Petra doing?” he asks. He had meant to ask the question casually, but he stumbles over the words a little too quickly. 

“Petra? She’s well,” Mr. Ral answers with a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his laughter lines deepen. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered Eren is. “She just started teaching at the same university that Zeke is teaching at.” 

That’s certainly news to Eren. Zeke hadn’t mentioned that at any of the family dinners Eren had attended recently. It could just be because Zeke hadn’t run into her yet or it had simply slipped his mind, but Eren kind of doubts it. If Petra’s father knew, then it’s highly unlikely that Zeke didn’t know. As much as Eren wants to frown, he fights the urge to turn the edges of his mouth downward and gives Mr. Ral a thin but polite smile. “That’s great to hear. What does she teach?” 

“English,” Mr. Ral replies, his chest puffed out proudly. It’s endearing how much he adores his daughter. “She teaches some upper-division classes on creative writing and a few classes for freshmen on critical reading and writing.” 

Eren’s smile is more genuine now, more fond as he listens to Mr. Ral speak about his daughter. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She was always really good with words.” He remembers lazy summer afternoons lying underneath the shade of a tree and pretending he was sleeping so that he could listen to Petra talk to Zeke on the front porch. It wasn’t even that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just liked the sound of her voice. Eren wonders if it’s still as wonderfully soothing and soft as he remembers. 

“And what about you?” Mr. Ral asks, snapping Eren out of his reverie. The old man seems to ask out of polite obligation. It figures that he isn’t really interested in Eren’s life. After all, he hadn’t remembered that Eren existed until five minutes ago. 

“I just graduated a few months ago. I majored in child education,” Eren replies. He looks down feeling slightly embarrassed although he’s not sure why. It feels like a step down from Petra’s accomplishments. His sort-of stepmom would certainly agree. She enjoys rubbing Zeke’s doctorate in Eren’s face whenever she gets the chance. Eren clears his throat and adds, “I’ve been working at Liberio Daycare. It’s near Shiganshina Elementary.” 

It’s unclear whether or not Mr. Ral recognizes the name but he nods and reaches over to give Eren a pat on the arm, a grin on his face as if the old man is actually proud of him. “That’s good! Your parents must be proud.” He doesn’t notice the way Eren flinches and carries on. “It’s good to hear that you’ve been well.” 

“Likewise,” Eren says. His eyes wander towards the bakery. It hadn’t occurred to him to look for Petra before, but now that he knows she’s back in town he can’t imagine doing anything else. He half hopes that she’ll be inside, maybe clearing the display for the night or wiping down the countertops, but all he sees is a girl his age at the register munching on some lavender bars that hadn’t sold. Before he can stop himself, Eren finds himself asking, “Is Petra in?” 

“Petra?” Mr. Ral asks with his eyebrows raised. Maybe it does seem out of the blue that Eren’s asking. Petra was always more Zeke’s friend than Eren’s. Mr. Ral gives Eren an apologetic smile and a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not. She told me she was eating dinner at a friend’s house. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Maybe you two can catch up sometime.” 

Eren shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but he can feel himself deflating at Mr. Ral’s words. He really doubts Petra would want to meet up with him. It’s not as if they were incredibly close before. Still, he gives Mr. Ral a gracious smile and says, “That would be great! I should probably get going. I have to, ah, eat dinner…” His voice trails off and he looks to bike only to find the front basket empty. Eyes straying further, he finds that his tub of potato salad had rolled out of his bike basket and onto the ground where it lay pitifully. Thankfully, the tub hasn’t broken and the potato salad hasn’t spilled out, but somehow the salad looks even more pathetic than it did when Eren purchased it. It’s something Eren would have been happy about fifteen minutes ago, but it’s embarrassing now. Quickly, he goes to pick it up and drop it into his bike basket with the slim hope that Mr. Ral wouldn’t think much about it, but Eren has never been that lucky. 

Mr. Ral must find him pitiful because he asks, “Why don’t you take some dessert home?” He’s already heading back into the bakery, gesturing for Eren to follow him despite Eren’s protests. “If you don’t, they’ll just go to waste. Or into my employee’s stomach, and goodness knows that she’s already eaten enough desserts today already.” 

“Thank you so much, sir,” Eren says, humbly bowing his head. 

“Sasha,” Mr. Ral calls the girl at the register. “Could you ring up a few things for Eren?” 

The girl’s head snaps up at the call of her name, her cheeks filled with pastry and crumbs all over her mouth. “Sure thing,” Sasha says, gulping down the last of her lavender bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walks over to the side, Eren following her on the other side of the counter, and washes her hands hastily. As she wipes her hands dry with the hand towel, she looks at Eren brightly and asks in a chipper voice, “Do you have anything you want in particular?” 

Eren’s eyes scan over the display, but he doesn’t really look at anything in particular. He just wants to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He’s embarrassed himself quite enough for today. “Just … whatever you’d recommend,” 

“Alright-y,” the girl hums, taking a bag and stuffing it full with little tarts and tea cakes and croissants. Eren looks at her briefly, realizing that he doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved here sometime during the past six years when he wasn’t around. 

As Sasha finishes preparing the bag, Eren walks over to the register and gets ready to pull his wallet out but Mr. Ral walks over, shaking his head. “No need to pay for it,” Mr. Ral says. He reaches over the counter and takes the bag from Sasha, presenting it to Eren with a smile. “Consider it a treat. Really, you’d be doing me a favor just taking it. They would have gone to waste otherwise.” 

“Ah, thank you,” Eren says, his face flushing once more. He takes the bag from Mr. Ral with a small bow of his head. “It was great seeing you again, Mr. Ral.” 

“Likewise,” Mr. Ral says with that same crinkly smile. He walks Eren to the door, watching as Eren packs the desserts alongside his potato salad. “Take good care of yourself, Eren, and tell your brother I said hi.” He waves as Eren assures him he’ll do just that, returning to the shop only once Eren has biked away. 

This is not how the night was supposed to go. Eren was supposed to be wandering around the neighborhood with his potato salad before waltzing into his father’s house an hour late, his sort-of stepmother silently fuming at the dinner table while the family sat and waited for him. He hadn’t planned on bumping into his childhood crush’s father, and he certainly hadn’t planned on looking so incredibly pathetic in front of Mr. Ral. He can only imagine what Mr. Ral will tell Petra when she sees her dad tonight. Maybe something about how he grew up to be such a loser even though his half-brother managed to graduate with a Ph.D. and is now a successful anthropology professor at the local university. It’s not something that usually gets Eren down, but thinking about it now is making him feel especially miserable. 

Eren’s not sure why the thought of Petra knowing how his life is so embarrassing. He hasn’t spoken to her in years, so her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And even if she did have an opinion of him, he’s sure it wouldn’t be unkind. Petra had always been nice to him even when he was a kid and just being an annoying third wheel to her and Zeke. When his childish admiration of her turned into puppy love and eventually evolved into a full-fledged crush, she never brushed him off or thought him annoying, although there was a chance that she just never noticed. He couldn’t blame her for that when Zeke, honor roll student and valedictorian Zeke, was always standing right in front of her. He wasn’t even surprised when they started dating. It was inevitable. And when they eventually broke up for some reason that Eren still isn’t quite sure about, Eren knew he’d never be able to compare so he never tried to pursue her. It’s not surprising that he and Petra ended up losing touch. 

As much as he would love to blame Zeke for it (and it would be incredibly easy for him to blame Zeke), he can’t. Maybe it’s strange that he doesn’t harbor a deep hatred for his half-brother. Their relationship has all the makings of a classic sibling rivalry - a complicated family history, stark differences in accomplishments, and affections for the same girl - but Eren could never bring himself to hate Zeke. Even if Zeke’s mother liked to hold all of her son’s accomplishments over Eren’s head, Zeke himself never bragged about them. In fact, he was quite humble and would even offer to help his younger half-brother if he was struggling with something in school. Oftentimes he would invite Eren to hang out with his friends even though their age gap made it a little awkward. He even remembered Eren’s favorite snacks and would make sure they were in supply whenever Eren came over to visit. If Zeke’s mother was an evil Disney stepmother come to life, Zeke was that one fairytale sibling that was kind to the tragic main character, so Eren had no choice but to like Zeke. Even when Zeke broke up with Petra and Eren couldn’t understand why, when Zeke told Eren that it “just happened,” Eren kind of left it at that and accepted that because he couldn’t imagine Zeke doing anything wrong. 

Could Eren be classified with an inferiority complex with regards to his brother? Probably, but most siblings can. Eren would have to challenge whether or not someone with inferiority complexes would admire their brother as much as he does, but they might in a weird way. Eren’s sure that he and Zeke’s relationship would still be complicated even if they didn’t have all the weird history with Eren and Zeke’s parents. 

Eren sighs as he flies down a dip in the road, letting gravity carry him down instead of pedaling. He really doesn’t feel like he’s in the right headspace for this family dinner. Usually, he lets all of that woman’s snide comments ricochet, but his armor has grown weak and he can just imagine her landing the right thinly-veiled insult, her words burying into his skin and hitting right where it hurts. For a moment, Eren considers calling the dinner off with an excuse that will be sure to piss his stepmother off — probably something about how he has to restructure his lesson plan for the upcoming week — but he glances down at the potato salad and bag of baked goods in his bike basket and realizes that he really doesn’t want to eat them all by himself. If he’s going to suffer, he might as well make the rest of his family suffer alongside him. And besides, he’s pretty much already at their house anyway. 

His bike slows as he approaches the white-picket fenced house. He takes the potato salad tub and the bag of baked goods before leaving his bike on the driveway, not bothering to chain it to the fence because nobody would want to steal the old thing he bought from a garage sale anyway. The sight of it lying in front of the house instead of properly locked up will be sure to piss off that woman too, which is just an added bonus. With a sigh, Eren marches up the front steps, shifting the food all on one arm so he can ring the doorbell. The familiar chime rings out, muted from behind the wooden door. A muffled voice mumbles something Eren can’t hear, but he already knows that the speaker has nothing good to say about him. 

The door is thrown open and Eren looks down to see his stepmother glowering up at him, blue eyes a raging storm. “You’re late,” she hisses. She doesn’t even give him a greeting; she just stands there in front of him silently fuming. Behind her stands Eren’s father. As expected, he says nothing to defend his son’s tardiness. The man just stands there, uncomfortable as he quietly observes. 

“Sorry, Dina,” Eren says, squeezing past his stepmother who makes an indignant noise. He dangles the food he brought in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she snatches the bag from him only to wrinkle her nose in disgust when she sees the potato salad. “I brought dessert, too. Do you want me to put it somewhere …?” 

Dina snatches the bag of desserts from him too, still huffing. “We have a guest tonight too. Do you know how rude you’re being?” she says, continuing to nag at him even though Eren has stopped listening to her years ago. 

Eren’s father gently grabs Eren by the elbow, subtly ushering him inside to avoid any more conflict but Eren yanks his arm away. 

“Well, maybe if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have showed up on time,” Eren snaps. He sounds angry as he says it, but he really does mean it. It’s one thing to be rude to his stepmother, but it’s another thing entirely to be rude to a guest he doesn’t know. He’d at least wait for introductions before deciding whether or not to show any manners. 

Before his stepmother can say anything more, Eren stomps off into the dining room where Zeke and the guest are waiting. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning, as he pulls out his chair - the one furthest from everyone - and slumps down into it. “Sorry, I’m late,” Eren mumbles, still looking down. 

“Eren,” says a deep voice that Eren recognizes as Zeke’s. Hearing the voice of someone other than his stepmother’s makes Eren relax a bit and he rests with his back against his chair, a little more at ease now. He can hear Zeke’s small smile as his half-brother asks, “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke who sits across from him, and then at the guest. He looks so quickly at first that he doesn’t register exactly who he’s seeing until he does a double-take, his green eyes widening as they take in the woman sitting there. It’s someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again, much less sitting at his family’s dining table, and he’s so surprised that he almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks it might just be a doppelganger, but there’s no mistaking the soft dimples that appear in her cheeks as her lips curl in a smile. “...Petra?” 

“Hi, Eren.” Petra’s voice is still as gentle and soothing as Eren remembers, the sound of it so honey-sweet that he feels his cheeks bloom a soft pink. There’s so much about her that’s different, but there’s so much more that’s the same. Her hair is shorter now, no longer falling right at her shoulder, but curling right under her chin in a short bob. It’s the same shade of ginger it was when he was a kid. If it’s under the right light, it would probably burn a fiery gold. Her doe eyes are the same pretty amber, sweet and dangerously entrancing at the same time. She’s even dressed differently, her button-up blouse and slick gray trousers such a departure from the casual jeans and t-shirts she wore ten years ago when Eren was still in high school. Eren feels horribly underdressed - his ratty university sweatshirt over a thin cotton tee and his ripped jeans are so shabby in comparison - but a glimmer of silver on Petra’s wrist attracts Eren’s attention to the charm bracelet she wears, jangling with charms that Eren remembers her collecting in her high school days, and he feels a little less like he’s meeting a stranger and more like he’s reuniting with an old friend. 

“How are you?” Eren asks shyly, his smile bashful. 

“I’m well,” she answers, and Eren feels himself melting into her voice the same way he did when he was thirteen. When she smiles, her head tilts ever so slightly to the right just the way it did when he first met her and her dimples deepen into her cheeks. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers because he doesn’t trust himself to string together more than a word or two at a time. He wonders if she realizes how he’s unraveling at the sound of her voice or if she’s as oblivious as she was the last time. 

“I’m glad,” Petra says, and the warm look Petra gives Eren reignites a flame in the pit of his belly that he had thought he extinguished long ago. Her head tilts a little bit more to the side, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you,” Petra tells him, and Eren finds himself in love once more. 

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

There are rules to dealing with your ex-boyfriend after you’ve broken up, Petra knows, but it’s been ten years and she figures that these rules can be bent. So what if the last time she saw Zeke she was broken-hearted, crying in the rain as he turned his back on her? She was younger then, her feelings out of control for someone who didn’t care for her nearly as much as she cared for him. And, sure, maybe it’s terrible that she never received the closure that she deserves, but she can’t hold a grudge against him forever. They work in the same university and cowering behind the nearest trashcan every time they meet doesn’t seem to be a viable option. Petra’s older now and so is Zeke. They’re mature. They can be friends like adults are after they’ve broken up, so the universe should be able to understand her accepting Zeke’s dinner request that evening even if her friends couldn’t. 

She only started to regret her decision when Zeke offered to drive her there after his classes ended - saving gas and the planet, he explained - and she agreed. Although Petra repeatedly told herself that it was a simple family dinner and that such an invitation was extended to Zeke’s other friends on occasion, she found herself sitting impatiently in her office, biting her nails down so close to the quick that her fingers started to bleed. Having to bandage her fingers as she waited did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves. 

“I don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Levi tells her over the phone. He taught in the mathematics department, but they had met after Petra had nervously stumbled into the wrong building and into his office on her first day at the university. The man has a perpetual scowl on his face, and that very same expression had nearly sent Petra running until she weakly explained that she must have gotten lost and he kindly redirected her to the building her office was located in. She thought that was going to be the end of their interaction until he emailed her shortly after asking if she had gotten to her office alright. Finding him a kindred spirit, he had become her first (and sadly only) companion at the university aside from Zeke. “If you’re friends with him, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” 

“Well, it’s just that I haven’t really seen him since we, you know, broke up,” Petra explains, but she doubts that Levi understands. She had told him her history with Zeke a few weeks ago after he asked her why she was so jittery at the faculty luncheon, but he didn’t have much of a reaction. It was sort of nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t as hyperbolically reactive as the rest of her friends, but it was also painfully difficult when Levi didn’t show her any sympathy. 

“You saw him last week when you were at the library to look for reference books,” he reminds her as if it were the same thing. “I don’t know why this dinner has you in a panic. You left me nearly a hundred messages while I was teaching class.” He hadn’t even replied to her texts, the bastard. He had simply left her on read until midnight before sending her a thumbs-up emoji to let her know that he had read her messages, which was not exactly the response Petra was waiting for. 

“This is different!” Petra insists, but she knows Levi will never see it that way. 

“You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” Levi says. She can hear him scribbling something on the other end, probably correcting exams for his differential equations classes and marking a poor student’s paper in an abundance of red. “Either cancel or just go to dinner with him. You’ve had family dinners with him even before you guys got together right?” 

“Yeah, but that was back when we were kids,” Petra mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“Then you’ll be fine,” he tells her. 

“You’re horribly unsympathetic sometimes,” she sighs. 

“If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn’t have called me,” Levi says with a cluck of his tongue, but he chuckles when he hears her groan on the other end. “Really, it’ll be fine. You’re just overthinking it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you said the kid will be there, right? His brother, so it’s not as if you’ll be alone with Zeke and his parents.” 

Petra lays with her head on her desk, her phone pressed against her cheek. “Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles, but her lower lip still sticks out in a pout. The thought of Eren being there, sweet little Eren with his eager puppy eyes and wide smile, does make her feel better if only a little. She probably hasn’t seen him since she broke up with Zeke. She wonders if he’s changed very much. He’d be in college now? Or maybe he graduated. “I haven’t seen him in awhile though. What if he hates me now?” 

“You’re overthinking again,” Levi says. He sighs on the other end. If Petra didn’t know him very well, she would think she was bothering him, but he’s always like this. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yes. No. Maybe,” Petra sniffs. She looks sadly at her bandaged fingers and picks at the ends of one of them. “Should I just cancel? Maybe I can tell him I fell down the stairs and had to go to the hospital or something -” Someone knocks at the door and Petra lets out a startled yelp, nearly falling out of her chair because she’s so surprised. When she looks at the door, she sees Zeke’s silhouette against the frosted glass pane. The sight of it makes her want to hide behind her desk. “God, he’s here already!” 

“Too late for you to run then,” Levi says, not even bothering to hide his snickering. He’s such a sadist that Petra doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him sometimes. “Have fun at your absolutely normal dinner with your friend and his family.” Click!

“Asshole,” Petra mutters under her breath before shoving her phone in her bag. There’s another knock at the door — the same long, slow knocks that are a signature of Zeke’s —  and she hastily shouts, “I’ll be right there!” before shoving her papers in her bag and stumbling out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She must look like a mess because Zeke raises an eyebrow at her when she emerges from her office. Petra catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winces at her frumpled shirt and the hair falling out of her bun. She mumbles an apology as she pulls the hair ties out of her bun, her hair falling in loose curls around her face. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Zeke asks. 

“No! God, no,” Petra says, inwardly cringing at every word that comes out of her mouth. Even she can tell how awkward her responses sound, a little too quick and desperate. What is she being so anxious for? It’s just dinner with a friend —  an ex-boyfriend, but a friend nonetheless. Petra clears her throat and asks as casually as she can manage, “How are your parents?” 

“Hmm? They’re well, I suppose,” he answers. Everything about him is familiar. He’s grown just a bit taller since Petra last saw him, his shoulders a bit broader and his jawline a bit sharper, but he still wears the same double-bridge glasses and the right corner of his mouth still quirks upward just the slightest bit when he speaks. He even walks the same way, his strides a little too long and quick, and Petra finds that she still has to struggle a bit to keep up. If Zeke notices the same thing about her - how she still wears the same shade of lipstick, how she still has that habit of wrapping her hair around her finger when she’s nervous like she’s doing now, how she bites her lip when she’s not sure what to say next - he doesn’t mention it. “My father’s still working at the hospital with my grandfather. He’s been promoted to director of the orthopedics department.” 

“Oh, congrats!” 

“And you know my mother has been at the hospital now that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Zeke says. It’s strange how casually he says this, as if he doesn’t remember that the last time he spoke about his mother to Petra was when they were still together. “She really missed being in the OR. Says she’d rather be doing surgeries all day than taking care of me.” 

“It’s nice that she can go back to it.” She nearly stumbles over a step but catches the railing before she can. When she looks up again, Zeke is already on the sidewalk and she hurries after him, a little breathless. “And Eren?” 

“Eren?” Zeke seems a little surprised by the question although Petra doesn’t know why. He leads her to a car - a slick Mercedes with a shining blue exterior and tinted windows that don’t quite match Zeke’s academic profession —  and opens the car doors with a click. 

“Your brother,” she clarifies as Zeke walks over to the driver’s side and slips into the car. She opens the passenger car and slides into the seat beside Zeke, setting her bag down next to her feet. The door swings shut behind her. “He’s coming to the dinner too, right?” 

Zeke turns on the engine and the car comes to life with a pleasant hum. “Most likely,” Zeke says as he checks the side and rearview mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. He even drives the same way, his arm resting on the side with his hand tapping against the door while one hand is on the wheel. Just watching him makes Petra’s chest feel tight. 

“Ah, that’s good. I haven’t seen him in so long,” Petra says. For some reason, knowing that Eren will also be there makes her feel a little more relaxed about the dinner. “Is he still in college? I think he should have graduated by now.” 

“He graduated a little while ago. He’s teaching now. Still on probation, but he says his colleagues like him so he’s not too worried about getting tenure after the probationary period is over.” He slows the car to a stop at an intersection and leans over, fiddling with the radio dial. He sets it to the jazz station and the sound of smooth brass and relaxed percussion fills the car. 

Somehow, driving down the streets with Zeke is far more nostalgic than it ever was when Petra drove on her own. Some nights Petra drove home by herself, and all it ever felt was lonely. Maybe it’s the familiarity of having Zeke beside her like when they were teenagers, driving back home after watching a movie downtown or returning from a basketball game at their high school. 

Petra doesn’t ask any more questions about Zeke’s family. She figures she can catch up with the rest of the Jaegers when she sees them at dinner. Instead, she asks Zeke about his classes and finds that conversation with him comes more easily after she stops stumbling over her words. He tells her a little bit about teaching anthropology (“Far less painful than you think it would be, at least when the kids aren’t just taking it to fulfill their core classes,” he says), his plans for the upcoming week (“It’s midterms, but the students should be fine if they actually look at the study guide.”), and the butterfly exhibit opening up at the museum downtown (“I’m thinking of putting it up as extra credit. Who knows, they might actually look at the other exhibits while they’re wandering around.”). Petra also fills him in on her own life, mumbling about how she still has to make the answer key to her own midterm and expressing interest in the butterfly exhibit Zeke mentions. 

They pull up next to Zeke’s house, the very same one he grew up with. Not much has changed from the outside. The white picket fence is a little worn and the rose bushes have been replaced with peonies. The house is still the same shade of cream, but Petra is sure that the Jaegers had it repainted over the summer like they usually do. She looks up at the second-story window where Zeke’s room should be and vaguely wonders if it’s still his room or if he’s moved out and hasn’t mentioned it yet. 

Walking up the brick steps to the door is a bit surreal. Petra doesn’t realize just how silent she’s been until the chime of the doorbell startles her and Mrs. Jaeger opens the door. As with most of Zeke’s family members, Petra hasn’t seen Mrs. Jaeger since she broke up with Zeke, but she had an amicable relationship with her. She can’t recall Mrs. Jaeger ever being angry, so she’s surprised when Zeke’s mother opens the door with a terrible scowl on her face. 

“Mom, you remember Petra,” Zeke says, moving aside so that Petra can enter first. 

The scowl quickly slips from Mrs. Jaeger’s face, replaced with a smile that Petra is more familiar with. “Petra, of course! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her voice strained. She waves Petra and Zeke in, shutting the door gently behind them. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Petra mumbles. She looks at the kitchen doorway where Zeke’s father leans and gives him an awkward wave. The man, just as silent as he was when Petra was young, gives her a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgment. 

“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” Zeke apologizes as he shrugs off his coat. He walks over to the dining room, Petra and his mother trailing behind him. “A student wanted to talk to me and it took a bit longer than I thought it would.” 

“No need to apologize! Eren hasn’t arrived yet anyway. He’ll probably be late. Again.” There’s a harsh tone in Mrs. Jaeger’s voice that Petra hasn't heard before. When she looks up, she sees Zeke’s mother hovering around the table and arranging dishes, the same polite smile on her face as she does so. “Your brother, of course, didn’t bother to send a text to notify us that he’d be late.” 

Petra wonders if Mrs. Jaeger usually speaks about Eren with such disappointment in her voice. Maybe she had always spoken about Eren like this and Petra had never been around to witness it or maybe it’s something that developed while Petra was away. Whatever it is, Zeke and his father seem used to it. Zeke merely shrugs, pulling out his phone to flip through his phone while his mother continues to mutter about how disrespectful her stepson is. Mr. Jaeger continues to stand at the doorway, not bothering to join them at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the carpet. He doesn’t bother to defend his son. 

“Maybe he’s busy,” Petra says, interrupting Mrs. Jaeger mid-rant. She feels rude for speaking while Mrs. Jaeger is talking, but sitting in silence while Zeke’s mother speaks ill of Eren doesn’t feel right either. All eyes are on her now - Mrs. Jaeger a little surprised, Zeke with an eyebrow quirked upward as if in amusement, and his father with a look that’s almost relieved. Petra clears her throat and continues. “He’s a teacher, right? It must be difficult teaching so many children every day — making the lesson plan and everything. Maybe texting slipped his mind. He’ll probably be here soon.” 

God, she hopes Eren will be here soon. Her cheeks are starting to burn bright red and she’s thinking that perhaps speaking up might not have been the best decision. 

“Ah, you’re probably right.” Mrs. Jaeger seems a little more composed now, perhaps remembering that they have company over. She settles down in the chair across from Zeke and flashes a pleasant smile at Petra. “He can be quite forgetful of these things. Of course, you’d never worry your father like this. You’ve always been so responsible.” 

Has talking with Zeke’s mother always been this difficult? Petra’s head is starting to spin, unsure of what response would be appropriate. She feels as if she should defend Eren, but she doesn’t want to make things awkward either. In the end, she smiles awkwardly at Mrs. Jaeger as if accepting the woman’s compliment and reaches out for the glass of water in front of her, raising it to her lips before she can say anything else that she might regret. 

“Dear, come sit next to me,” Mrs. Jaeger calls. She gestures for her husband to join them at the table and Mr. Jaeger stiffly walks over from the doorway before taking a seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Jaeger folds her hands on the table, her gaze still on Petra. “How have you been, Petra? We haven’t heard from you in a while. How long have you been back?” 

The series of questions leave Petra tongue-tied and unsure of how to answer. It’s so strange how casual the Jaegers can be about asking after her, like she hadn’t been such a large part of their lives — or at least Zeke’s life — ten years ago before disappearing completely. As if they didn’t know the real reason she hadn’t kept in touch. She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to act as oblivious as them. 

“Er, I’ve been back for a while now,” she replies. She bites her lip when she sees the look of surprise on Mrs. Jaeger’s face. When she glances over at Zeke, he doesn’t look back at her. He’s returned his gaze to his phone screen, ignoring her. Nervously, she laughs. “I guess Zeke didn’t tell you, but I’m teaching at the same university he is. A few undergraduate English classes and then a graduate course on nature and romantic poetry.” Petra doesn’t know why she feels a lump at the back of her throat or the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She nibbles at her lip again, looking down at her lap so that she doesn’t have to look at Zeke or his family. She doesn’t have a reason to feel hurt or upset. Maybe Zeke was busy and didn’t have the chance to mention it to his parents or maybe it just slipped his mind. It isn’t a big deal. 

“Oh, that must be nice!  Who knew you two would be working together after all these years?” Mrs. Jaeger says. She subtly pushes the cheese plate on the table towards Petra, gesturing for her to take one. 

“Mmm,” Petra says, nodding as if she agrees with Mrs. Jaeger. It’s not as if she’s wrong. Petra certainly didn’t know any of this would happen. She knew some of it would — getting her degree, teaching at a university, eating dinner with Zeke’s parents — she just hadn’t predicted other things like Zeke breaking up with her, not speaking with him for ten years after knowing him her entire life, or having to pretend that she’s okay. 

Petra reaches for a cracker and a spread of raspberry goat cheese and shoves the entire thing in her mouth, hoping that she won’t have to answer any more questions. 

“The university is nice,” Zeke’s father murmurs. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night. The sound of his voice startles Petra, but the other Jaegers don’t seem too surprised. “It’s near the museum too. Very convenient.” 

“Ah, the museum!” Mrs. Jaeger clasps her hands together and looks at Petra expectantly. Petra nearly chokes on her cracker out of nervousness. “Have you been there yet?” 

“Er, not yet,” Petra says hastily, wincing at the pain in her throat. She takes a quick sip of her water to relieve it. “I haven’t really found the time, I guess.” 

“Oh, you should absolutely go!” says Mrs. Jaeger brightly. Petra had never thought Mrs. Jaeger was one to love museums, but there’s probably a lot about the woman that Petra doesn’t know now. All Petra really remembers about the woman is that she stayed at home during the daytime and worked at the hospital at night. She’s bound to have found other ways to occupy her time now that she doesn’t have to worry about Zeke anymore. 

“You sound as if you really enjoy it.” Petra nibbles at another cracker. She feels as if she should smile right now, but she’s not sure if she’s able to. “Are there any exhibits you would recommend?” 

“Oh, they’re all good! The staff especially …,” Mrs. Jaeger gushes, but her voice begins to trail off. Her eyes flicker over to Zeke as if waiting for a sign to proceed, but her son pays no attention to her. He simply reaches over for an almond on the cheese plate and pops it into his mouth. His mother’s smile tightens and she continues, “The butterfly exhibit that’s opening soon should be exquisite!” 

Petra looks from Zeke to Mrs. Jaeger. Aside from Mrs. Jaeger’s forced smile, Petra really can’t tell what’s wrong, so she puts on a false smile of her own and nods. “I know. Zeke was telling me about it on the ride here.” 

There’s a long and awkward silence. Zeke puts no effort in speaking and neither does his father, who still sits and stares at his lap. Only Mrs. Jaeger and Petra seem to be putting in any effort to pick up the conversation, both trying to appear calm as they search for some common ground to work with. Instead, the doorbell rings and Petra swears she hears a sigh of relief escape Mrs. Jaeger’s lips. 

“It seems Eren has finally arrived,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her chair scraping across the floor as she gets up from the table. As she turns to leave, she flashes Petra an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry you had to wait so long.” Petra is about to tell her that it wasn’t a problem, that she didn’t mind waiting (even if it was a lie), but Zeke’s mother has already disappeared into the next room with Zeke’s father following silently behind her. 

For a moment, Petra wonders if she should try to talk to Zeke so more. It’s not that the quiet bothers her, but she’s never felt comfortable sitting silently next to others unless she was completely comfortable with them. Ten years ago this would have been fine, but now sitting with Zeke beside her without saying a word is making her skin crawl and her throat dry. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his interest. 

Zeke doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence at all. He’s still scrolling through his phone, occasionally reaching out to pluck a cracker or another almond from the cheese plate. If he’s fine without any conversation, Petra figures she shouldn’t bother him. She settles down with her back against her chair rather unhappily and tries to occupy herself another way. 

Petra tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. First, she stares down at the lace tablecloth, gazing at the delicate pattern until the floral designs are burned into her corneas. Mrs. Jaeger’s voice begins to drift into the dining room, her tone just as cold and harsh as it was when she spoke about Eren earlier this evening. Another voice floats into the room as well, a voice like Eren’s but a bit deeper and rougher than Petra remembers. As the two continue to talk, Petra finds herself straining to listen to the conversation, but she can’t quite make out the words. The words exchanged don’t sound incredibly pleasant though. 

“...if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have shown up on time,” Eren hisses as he walks into the room. He’s taller than he was when Petra had seen him last — probably as tall as his brother if not taller — but he walks with his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Petra seated at the table even as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Without looking up, Eren mumbles, “Sorry, I’m late.” 

Zeke looks up, his expression amused. “Eren,” he says, setting down his phone for once. He rests his chin in his hand, mouth quirked upward in a smile. “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says, mumbling into his lap. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke and then Petra, but he doesn’t really register who Petra is until he takes another glance. His eyes are huge like a doe’s. He’s always had big eyes even when he was a child, large and green like gemstones. He’s grown into them more since the last time Petra has seen him, but they’re still enormous, growing wider as he recognizes her. His mouth falls open in surprise. “... Petra?” 

She can feel her lips curling in a smile. “Hi, Eren.” 

Eren smiles back at her, a little nervous but a lot more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He’s still shy when he smiles, looking up at her before glancing down at his lap again. “How are you?” He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer slouching. 

“I’m well. How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers.

“I’m glad. I missed you,” Petra tells him, and she means it. 

His smile is a little wider now and Petra feels the most relaxed than she’s been the entire night. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, at least Eren hasn’t changed and she feels less awkward being at a Jaeger family dinner after ten years of estrangement. 

Mrs. Jaeger puts down a tub of what looks like a potato salad on the table, opening the container with a frown. “At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” she comments wryly. 

Eren winces but doesn’t say anything. 

Petra sits up. “It looks, um, delicious.” It doesn’t. It looks like a pile of mush and not at all like anything edible, but Petra begins to spoon some on her plate anyway out of politeness despite the look of alarm on Eren’s face. “Eren, your brother told me you started teaching recently. Where do you teach?” 

“Just, um, down the street. Not really elementary … it’s a daycare,” he says distractedly as he watches her help herself to his potato salad. Eren hesitates for a moment before taking the spoon from Petra and switching their plates. He does it absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he notices everyone looking at him peculiarly. Flustered, he explains, “It’s not, ah, I don’t think it’s very good. So.” As if to prove his point, he puts a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth, gagging on it as he swallows it down, and scrunches his face up in disgust. 

Mrs. Jaeger looks rather smug as Eren chokes. “I’ll just put this away then,” she says, removing the tub of potato salad from the table. She gestures for Petra to help herself to the other food on the table. “Help yourself to everything else, Petra.” 

“Er, thank you,” Petra says. She does feel bad about not eating the potato salad, but Eren looks pretty relieved. Because she’s talked Zeke’s ear off in the car and doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation with the Jaeger parents, she decides to continue her conversation with Eren. “Daycare seems like it would suit you. I bet you’re great with kids.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren mumbles as he pushes the potatoes back and forth on his plate, but he’s hiding a smile on his face, secretly pleased. He’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, which Petra thinks is an endearing trait. “Teaching at a university is probably harder.” He freezes for a moment and then hurriedly adds, “Your dad told me you work as a professor now. I ran into him before coming here. He mentioned that you taught English …?” 

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, casting a side glance at Zeke. She thought Zeke would have mentioned that they were working at the same university, but maybe it never came up in conversation between the brothers or they just weren’t as close as they were before. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, “Yeah, I teach English, but I wouldn’t say teaching university is more or less difficult than handling a daycare. They have their own challenges, right?” 

“Yeah,” Eren replies, voice soft. His smile grows wider and, after Petra asks him about what it’s like teaching at the daycare, starts animatedly talking about his students. He seems very endeared towards a young girl named Gabi, a very mischievous but sweet troublemaker, and her companion Falco, a young boy that often has no choice but to be dragged into all of Gabi’s shenanigans. 

Talking to Eren makes the rest of the dinner go by easily. He’s always been easy to talk to even when they were teenagers and she was dating Zeke. Sometimes she would wait at the Jaeger house and talk with Eren while they waited for Zeke to come back from baseball practice. Eren was always so animated when he talked, using his hands and sometimes bouncing up and down his seat when he got excited. He still does that now as he talks about his work at the daycare, listening intently whenever Petra or even Zeke exchange their own stories about teaching. It makes her feel as if the past ten years hadn’t really happened, like Zeke and Eren had been a part of her life the entire time. 

“Oh, I brought dessert,” Eren says brightly. Before Mrs. Jaeger can say anything, he gets up to collect the paper bag on the kitchen counter and plops it on the dining table. He pushes it closer to Petra. “Your dad gave me some while he was closing up his shop.” 

She laughs. “I eat too many of these as it is,” Petra says, but she plucks an almond cookie from the bag. Her teeth sink into the cookie, savoring its subtle nutty flavor on her tongue, and sighs. “Don’t tell my dad. He won’t let me eat anymore when I get home.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eren grins. 

Petra peers into the bag. “Did he give you any chocolate croissants?” She looks over at Eren. “Those are still your favorites, right?” 

Eren looks surprised. “Ah, yeah,” he replies, blinking. “You remember?” 

“Of course, I remember,” she snorts. She manages to find a pain au chocolat and places it delicately on Eren’s plate. It’s a little smooshed from the ride here, chocolate spilling out of its side, but Eren still looks at it hungrily. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Zeke leans forward. “I like the lemon bars. Let me know if there are any in there.” 

She laughs and actually does manage to find one, but it’s a lemon-lavender bar. Zeke assures her it’s fine, picking off the little bits of lavender that are on the top of the bar. They eat like that for a moment and Petra feels an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. It’s probably unhealthy to yearn for the past, but Petra wouldn’t mind if things somehow ended up the way they were before. 

When their dishes are scraped clean and the conversations begin to fade away, Zeke pats down the corner of his mouth with a napkin before announcing that they should stop for the night. He has papers to grade tonight, he explains to his parents who nod understandingly. The wooden legs of his chair scrape against the carpet as he gets up from the table and Petra slides out of her own seat, ready to follow him. 

“Ah, Petra,” Zeke says, pausing like he’s just remembered. He looks at her, head tilting slightly. He’s stopped by the door to the living room, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Do you mind calling an Uber to pick you up? I’d drive you home myself but …” 

“I …” Petra blinks, feeling like a deer in headlights. If she looked around, she would see that the rest of the Jaeger family has a similar expression. She’s not sure why she feels so surprised. Maybe it’s because she had expected him to drive her home, but maybe that was too much to ask of him after he had taken the trouble to drive her here in the first place. It’s not even that far of a drive to her house, but it’s probably too cumbersome for Zeke, who’s busy with grading papers and preparing for tomorrow’s lectures. There’s an awful lump in her throat like she had swallowed an egg whole, but Petra forces a smile on her face as she begins, “Sure, let me just call my dad -” 

“I’ll take you home,” a voice says suddenly. Everyone turns to see Eren standing up from his chair. At first glance he looks angry, but Petra blinks again and there’s only concern on his face as he collects his jacket and walks over to Petra. He shrugs it on and smiles down at her, his expression a little apologetic. “Er, you don’t mind riding on a bike, do you?” 

Petra has to lift her head to look at Eren and she wonders when he had gotten so tall. It must have been after she left for college. “No, that’s fine,” she replies numbly, too shocked to really think about it. She shuffles silently after Eren, mumbling a brief “thank you” when he helps her into her coat. 

“It was lovely having you over again, dear,” Mrs. Jaeger says to Petra, a smile pasted on the woman’s face as she saw the two out. She doesn’t say anything about Zeke not offering Petra a ride back. “Do come again sometime.” 

“Of course,” Petra says, although the promise feels empty. She’s not sure if Mrs. Jaeger notices or even cares because the woman shuts the door in her face before Eren and Petra are even out in the driveway. It’s not a cold gesture, but it’s a change from the days when Mrs. Jaeger would wait until Petra was almost out of sight before shutting the door and disappearing into the house. 

Petra shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat and follows Eren down the driveway, watching as he runs to the bike he had carelessly discarded on the ground before entering the house earlier. Embarrassed, Eren hastily picks up the bike, brushing it off and mumbling something about how he had been in too much of a hurry earlier to properly lock up his bike. Petra assures him it’s fine. She’s only half-listening anyway. 

“You can just sit here,” Eren says, patting a padded seat on the back of his bike. He throws a leg over his bike easily and looks at Petra, waiting expectantly. 

She hadn’t objected to the ride home before, but now she looks at Eren’s vehicle of choice skeptically. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pedal with me on it? I’m a whole other person.” Petra hovers beside the bike, but she doesn’t get on. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. It was fine when my boyfriends were riding in the back, and they’re a lot heavier than you,” Eren replies. It takes him a moment to register what he just said and then his face begins to color, cheeks glowing pink even in the dim moonlight. “I mean my ex-boyfriends. I rode around with my ex-girlfriend too, but she was really tiny too. She was …” He probably would have babbled on and on if Petra hadn’t sat down. 

“Your exes?” Petra asks, eyebrow raised. She hadn’t really thought about Eren dating, but it’s funny to think about now. She doesn’t remember if he ever dated anyone when he was in high school. She probably shouldn’t tease, but she can’t resist grinning at the boy and saying, “It looks like you were busy in college.” 

“Not that busy. Just … probably as busy as your average college student,” Eren mumbles under his breath, face still flushed. He gestures at Petra’s hands and then makes a motion around his waist. “You can … around me if, you know, you’re comfortable with it.” 

“Oh, right.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around Eren’s waist and wonders briefly how someone so tall can have such a thin waist. “Do you remember the way to my house?” she asks. 

“Of course,” Eren says. “It’s not that far from here.” 

For some reason, the way Eren answers makes Petra feel warm. Maybe it’s just the heat transfer from resting her cheek on his back. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind rush around her as Eren bikes her back home. 

It feels so comfortable, clinging onto someone so familiar and breathing in Eren’s scent, something like pinewood and a little bit of peppermint. He feels strong too, sturdy like a redwood tree. Petra doesn’t know why she doubted his ability to bike with her additional weight. He’d probably be fine having someone twice her weight in tow. She experimentally gives Eren’s waist a little squeeze. It must have been too sudden of a squeeze because they come to a screeching stop, Petra’s face slamming against Eren’s back and the two of them nearly go flying. 

“Oh, ouch,” Petra says. One arm is still wrapped around Eren’s lithe waist, but she raises a hand to rub her stinging face. “That hurts.” 

“S-sorry!” Eren stammers. He twists around to get a good look at Petra, forehead wrinkling. “I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly I was just … surprised.” He brings his hand down to where Petra’s arm is hooked around his waist, but he snatches his hand away as soon as their skin brushes as if he’s been burned. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Petra assures him. Her nose is throbbing dully, but it’s not bleeding. “It’s my fault anyway. I was just surprised. You’re a lot bigger than you were the last time I saw you.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren says with a shy laugh. He pushes off on the bike and starts for home again, pedaling easily despite Petra’s weight. He doesn’t startle when Petra leans against him again, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie. His breath hitches a little when Petra wraps her arms a little tighter around his waist, but it goes unnoticed by her. 

“Were they nice?” she asks. Eren makes a confused noise, and she can’t help but smile. Clarifying, she says, “Your exes. Were they nice?” 

Eren pedals in silence for a while before responding. “Yeah. They were nice.” 

“That’s good.” Petra sighs against his back, not noticing the way he shivers as if he can feel her breath on his skin. “You deserve to date nice people.” 

Petra might have imagined it, but she thinks she hears Eren say something in reply. He says it quietly, though, and the wind carries it away too quickly for her to hear. She straightens her back, lifting her head from where it rests against Eren’s back, but he doesn’t repeat himself and she doesn’t ask. Maybe it’s just one of those things that are meant to be spoken aloud but not heard by anyone. 

They don’t speak much the rest of the way home. Petra figures Eren is having enough trouble biking with two people and holding a conversation would only tire him out more. She just lets herself rest against him, watching as they pass streetlight after streetlight. It probably would have been more convenient to call a Lyft or an Uber, but Petra thinks accepting Eren’s bike ride isn’t bad either. It saved her from having to wait awkwardly for her driver to find the house while Zeke’s parents waited for her to leave. 

She wonders if she should have gone to dinner in the first place. Maybe Zeke had only invited her out of politeness, but she had taken it to mean more than it did. She’s stupid to think that arriving at the Jaeger house meant that things could go back to the way things were. It was noticeably tense in the house. At first, Petra thought it was because of the strained relationship between Mrs. Jaeger and Eren, but now she’s not so sure. It’s not as if Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger had met her with open arms. They hadn’t been hostile, but they were polite in the way that people were polite to house guests and not in the way they would be to a childhood friend of their son. God, she’s so stupid. She should have just declined Zeke’s offer politely and never spoken to him again since he was obviously content with not speaking with her for ten years. 

Burying her face in Eren’s hoodie, Petra gives him another squeeze. Eren doesn’t brake this time. He just lets out a surprised “oh!” and falters for a bit, bike slowing, before picking his pace back up and continuing on their way. 

“We’re almost there,” Eren tells her. As he approaches Petra’s house, the bike begins to slow before stopping completely in front of the driveway. When Petra lifts her head, Eren is looking at her, smiling. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Petra nods. She gets off the bike and pats down her windswept hair, brushing some stray locks out of her face. She manages to smile back at Eren. “Thanks for the ride back. I hope it wasn’t too out of your way.” 

“It’s fine.” Eren sits at his bike, his smile a little lopsided. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes. It’s only when Petra turns around towards her house that he opens his mouth. “Hey, Petra?” 

Petra’s hand rests on the gate of her wooden fence, just about to open it. She looks at Eren, watching as he fidgets with the handle of his bike. “Yeah?” 

“Did Zeke …?” His voice trails off and Eren’s looking everywhere except at her face. He nibbles on his bottom lip and Petra wonders what he’s so nervous about. His expression looks pained as if he’s scared whatever he has to say will hurt her, but Petra’s not sure why it would. After a moment, Eren swallows and forces a smile on his face. “Did Zeke tell you that … I work near your university?” 

“You do?” 

Eren nods. He looks a lot less nervous now, his shoulders relaxed. “Well, it’s not that far by bike.” 

“Really?” Petra hums. “I should come visit you some time then.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to -” 

“Or you could visit me?” she suggests. 

He blinks. “I can?” Eren asks. “Is that really okay?” 

Petra almost laughs. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You should just let me know beforehand if you’re coming,” she tells him. She walks over, pulling her phone out of her purse and handing it to him so he can add his number. “Text me or call me. I might not respond right away because I might have a faculty meeting or a lecture, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 

“Oh, alright then,” Eren says. He types away on her phone, handing it back to her as soon as he’s finished. He watches with wide green eyes as Petra sends him an emoji — a simple “Hi, Eren! It’s Petra 😊” — and looks back at her with a grin. “I’ll come visit sometime.” 

“That’d be great,” Petra says, and she really means it. “Thanks again for the ride, Eren. I really appreciate it.” 

“It was no problem,” Eren tells her. He waves as walks through the gate and up the steps of her porch. He’s still waving when she opens the door and turns around, his smile a little goofy but cute at the same time. “Have a good night!” 

“You too,” Petra says before shutting the door gently behind her. She takes a peek out the window and sees Eren still on the sidewalk with the bike. He stands there with a pensive look on his face before pushing off his bike and riding off into the night. Petra watches until he’s a tiny speck down the road. When she blinks, he’s gone. 

Petra finds her dad waiting for her in the living room, sleeping because he can’t stay awake for very long after dinner. In his lap sits a half-finished crossword puzzle. Petra smiles affectionately at her father before pressing a soft kiss on the old man’s brow. 

“I’m home,” she whispers as her father begins to stir. 

“Ah, Petra,” says her father. He looks at her, eyes still bleary with sleep, and gives her a drowsy smile. With a hand, he pushes up the glasses that were slipping off his nose during sleep. “Did Zeke drive you home?” 

Her lips press into a thin line. “No. He was busy,” Petra replies, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “Eren took me home instead.” 

“Eren?” her father repeats, not seeming to remember the name. 

“Zeke’s younger brother,” Petra reminds him. She leans against the back of her father’s armchair as she tries to describe the half-brother. “He was a few years younger than me. Brown hair, big green eyes, kind of gangly.” 

“Oh, Eren,” her father says, nodding. Petra’s not sure if he actually remembers or if he’s just being polite, but then he suddenly says, “I saw him earlier this evening before I was closing up shop. He’s very polite. He’s a nice boy.” 

Petra leans over to rest her head on her father’s shoulder while her arms lay folded on the back of the armchair. She thinks about her ride home, how it could have been cold and miserable and lonely. And maybe her thoughts were all of those things, but the ride wasn’t. She can still feel the warmth Eren emanated from underneath his hoodie, how comforting it was to have someone to hold.

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy,” Petra says softly. 

[otakushrew]

Okay you know what? I have brainrot and after trying to draw something I’m just gonna inflict you all with headcannons from an AU which holds next to nothing from cannon and that I may never actually write!

While I’ll grant there is an option for “FRan but they’re in College instead of High School” this ain’t it. This is pushing the Chronometer juuuuuuuust a bit back and placing it before certain events.

Rather than “Lux Clan lad and a bunch of Clan Heirs” it’s now “The newest Attachment Gathering Team is the Clan Heads and the Widow of the previous Metallum Clan Head. And because Houjo was the one to pick them he had to allow them to bring their kids as well”. So we have a regular couple with their kid (who may or may not have outlived their firstborn if Andgy’s works are anything to go by), a couple who really should get an effin’ divorce and their kid, a Single Mom, and a Single Dad, each with their own small child.

If this were the route the show took it’d end up being a slice of life featuring grade school shenanigans, grownups juggling their alibi jobs with their real jobs (They may be out of Fairy World but there’s no escaping that paperwork), and generally wholesome family stuff. (Don’t be fooled, the fluff is there so make the heavy themes easier and we all know it)

Now that we have some context out of the way let’s get to the headcannons!

Yeah it’s these two what did you expect? And yes I gave the nameless parents names which I will rescind if and only if the creators give us real ones

Hoterase Kaji, better known as Homura’s Dad or “That Ignis Clan hooligan”

-Since all the families have their own houses, connected by Those Doors, Kaji is free to keep raising Homura as he has. Which is good because he was mildly concerned about someone like Sumiyoshi giving him flack for who knows what.

-Okay he’ll be the first to admit he doesn’t 100% know what he’s doing sometimes but in his defense he can at least do the important stuff: cook real food, clean, braid his son’s hair.   ~Ignis Clan Culture in general is pretty cooperation oriented. There was no “one parent holds a job while the other does all the housework”, you took turns and did things like raise a rambunctious little boy together. Being a Widower means he’s up a creek in some respects but he’s doing his best.

-Homura gets his looks from Kaji, but that temper of his? Believe it or not, 85% of that he gets from his Mother. The other 15 does come from Kaji but Kaji’s temper is the kind you want to avoid if at all possible because like fire he can very much kill a man.    ~Needless to say Kaji keeps a strong grip on his temper, only allowing it to escape when practicing.

-He was surprised to see that his new home was right across the street from a Dojo. Doubly so when he realized that it was run by a family of three.    ~When the two were fully settled into their new home, they were surprised to learn that this was a fairly close-knit community, as neighbors stopped by frequently to introduce themselves.

-He knows how to use a stove and a microwave and can make actual meals, yes, but all told he likes cooking things over a fire better. Yes this includes Grilling. In his opinion Charcoal > Gas but he’s not overly picky

-When he or Homura are feeling particularly restless they go camping, and Kaji teaches Homura how to cook over a fire.

-The first time Kaji tried to pick out a human form, it made Homura cry because he didn’t recognize his dad    ~Homura also cried when he tried to make a human form himself and didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. He’s like five cut him some slack

-He’s a very caring father, but he does know when to put his foot down. Luckily Homura is mostly well-behaved. There are a few times he has to sit his boy down for a talk but it’s never as bad as other parents complain over.     ~He does not understand why Aqua Clan Parents (or at least the ones he’s working with) tie their kids to chairs for not getting first in school and he does not want to. As long as Homura puts in the work and asks for help when he needs it, Kaji is content.

-It goes without saying that he still works out in human form. Out of all the Fairies he’s the only one able to pick up all the boys. Sometimes even all four at once. Homura likes to mimic him, but Kaji has to look into child-scaled weights and such otherwise his beloved boy is stuck with basic exercises like push-ups and crunches.

-The lady who runs the Dojo across the street has a child about Homura’s age, and like her husband is oddly laid back about the odd things that escape his and Homura’s mouths. Which is good because he really enjoys his conversations with them, as well as the fact he’s allowed to teach his son to use a spear in relative safety.

-He has reading glasses in his human form, and he works from home.

-He gets along with everyone in his group except for Sumiyoshi, who has some kind of stick up his ass and considers himself superior to the rest of them. (Sumiyoshi just thinks Aqua Clan Fairies are superior in general because the whole “Aqua Clan handles Administration for the Entire Fairy World”. He unlearns that later in the AU)

[spartanguard]

even death won’t part us now (2/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

rated M | part 1 | AO3 | 3.9k words

A/N: I was going to post this update yesterday but *life*. We really get into the story, though—I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to @optomisticgirl​ for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair​ for her amazing art; and to @kmomof4​ and @cssns​ for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

say what you will about Glee, but Darren Criss’s version of this song is amazing

part two— the air is humming, and something great is coming...

2020

The sun was setting on another day, just like it had for the last 5000-plus. At least, Emma figured the number was up there; she’d stopped counting around day 4,588. Which was really an absurdly long time to count considering her days were no longer numbered, but old habits died hard, even if she never would.

She’d accepted that fact somewhere around day 4,040, which ironically was her 40th birthday. But instead of dealing with gray hairs and wrinkles and aching joints, she was still in her 28-year-old body, fairly spry and with exactly one white hair blended into her blonde. (Not that she could see it in the mirror anymore—or, you know, anything—but she knew it was there and that was all that mattered.)

She knew she’d finally settled into her new life when she was looking forward to drinking the deer blood she had at home and not longing for chocolate cake like she had the past several birthdays. Well, she still wished she could eat it—real food didn’t digest properly anymore—but the blood sounded just as good.

“It probably took me about that long to come to terms with it, too. Longer for your dad,” her mom had told her about the revelation.

That had been another epiphany: that the kindly undead couple she’d somehow ended up on the doorstep of—David and Snow Nolan—were her parents. Her actual birth parents. You know, the ones she’d been looking for her entire mortal life? (Had once dreamed would save her from one shitty foster home after another until she finally gave up hope, and instead turned to counting the days until she moved again?)

As it turned out, they’d been attacked and turned shortly after she’d been born—which apparently had been in a backwoods cottage in Maine that her grandparents had owned—and were taking her to the hospital for checkup after the fact. They didn’t trust themselves to face their new reality while also in charge of an infant (an infant with delicious-smelling blood, no less—creepy, but true) and so finished the journey to the hospital, but left her there alone.

Coming to terms with that had taken 1,187 days. There would have been lots of tears, were any of them able to cry; but instead, there was just a lot of emotion, which Emma had never dealt well with. But she was getting better. Who knew the kind of personal growth one could achieve after death? And it was a good lesson in how to handle (or not handle) things should the son she herself gave up ever manage to track her down.

(She looked—once, before she was turned. All she’d been able to find out was that he ended up in the foster system, too. She just hoped he was having a better time of it than she did. Well, had—he’d be an adult by now, wouldn’t he? Damn.)

So. Anyways. Sunset. Which Emma was watching from the roof of their building, which had become something of a refuge for her over the past 15 years. She had her own bedroom, but after so long on her own, being an adult suddenly under the same roof as her parents (who, despite being physically younger than her, still acted like her parents) was a bit stifling at times.

It wasn’t much, but it was her own space: she’d cobbled together a tent with some reclaimed tarps, filled with gently-used cushions, and on nice nights, would bring out a sleeping bag and let the lights and sounds of the city wash over her. It had been overwhelming at first—she kind of envied that her parents only had to deal with forest smells when they turned, and not the incredible everything of New York—but it had dulled over time, which she probably should have expected; it had only taken her a week or so to get used to the smell the first time, right?

That’s to say—the overwhelmingness did; she learned to tune things out and let them fall to the background. But her senses themselves were the sharpest they’d ever been, consequently making her even better at her job than she’d been pre-death. Having ethereal beauty compared to a mere mortal easily drew in most of her targets; her preternatural sight, hearing, and strength made it pretty simple to track them down and subdue them (she loved it when they ran); and she’d found out they were extra willing to comply with her demands when they were down a bit of blood. (It probably was connected to the whole your-sire-can-control-you thing but it didn’t last once they’d recovered from the blood loss and it kept her from murdering random ne'er-do-wells on the street; the lower a body count a vampire kept, the better.)

On a normal night, she’d be getting ready to catch another skip: either gussying up for a honeytrap, revving up her old Bug for a stakeout, or trying to track them down on Tinder while binging Netflix in the background (they kept up on technology...for the most part; she still wasn’t sure what a TikTok was). One thing a lot of the stories leave out is that it takes a long time to build up the kind of wealth and decadence you see with old vampires; even Emma’s parents still had to work, 40-odd years into this thing (David was an after-hours vet and Snow taught night school) and their townhouse was not rent-controlled. 

Of all the vampire media out there, their existence was far more What We Do In The Shadows than Twilight.

(Emma had always preferred comedy anyways.)

God, she was really getting sidetracked tonight. Anyways. No one was working because it was the anniversary of her being turned—her rebirthday, so to speak—and her mom was very much Leslie Knope when it came to anniversaries, but especially this one, given that it marked them finally coming together as a family.

That, and they were all going to get drunk.

“My class is a bunch of assholes this semester—I need this,” Snow had gushed earlier that week, grading papers behind their blackout curtains. (Vampires didn’t sparkle, thank god—at least, not without the help of glitter—but they were dangerously susceptible to sunburns, so the whole pale thing was accurate.) “And David—you’ve worked every weekend the last month; they can definitely operate without you for one night.”

“I put in for it a month ago, dear,” he tutted as he gathered the laundry, placing a kiss on her cheek as he went. 

They were definitely one of those nauseatingly cute couples, so it was a good thing Emma’s gag reflex was dormant. And, though she’d never admit it, she was a bit jealous that they’d been able to find—and keep—something that had evaded her her entire mortal life, and likely would for her afterlife, too.

Every now and then, a flash of blue eyes blinked into her vision; the same pair she’d seen on the night she transitioned. She still wasn’t sure they were real, and her parents genuinely knew nothing when she’d asked, so she never did again. The fact that she hadn’t ever seen them again, despite knowing just about all the vampires in this part of town (for better or worse), had her pretty convinced it was a mania-induced hallucination. But damn, was it a good one.

“Emma, are you ready?” Snow’s voice pulled Emma from her daydreams (nightdreams?). “It’s time to go,” she shouted—not loud enough to annoy the neighbors, but enough for Emma to hear.

“Coming,” she replied, then took one last glance at the night sky. Maybe there was something different in the stars? She didn’t know; she just had this feeling that something was going to change tonight. 

She brushed her hands down the skirt of her light pink dress; it wasn’t what she’d usually wear, but since this wasn’t her typical honey trap, she’d borrowed a dress from Snow. It was definitely sweeter than her taste, with its pastel color and A-line skirt, but just cut low enough to not be demure. Her high ponytail fell somewhere in between. Her fangs would probably take it in another direction, but it’s not like she was going to pose for photos—she only just showed up in those.

In a moment, she was back in the house, grabbing her purse and joining her parents (who equally straddled the line of sweet and seductive; it was a vampire thing). 

Out of nowhere, a flash of light blinded her. “Seriously?” she cursed, blinking away the temporary blindness, only to see her mother holding a Polaroid camera. That was the one thing that could document them; thank god the hipsters over in Greenwich Village had clung to them.

Snow just grinned and shook the picture while David lectured, “It’s not like we got to see you off to prom or anything.”

“Yeah, but are you going to do this every year?”

“Yes,” Snow stated matter-of-factly, smiling at the photo before setting it aside. “Now come on; there’s a bloody mary calling my name.”

“Where are we going?” 

“That new underground club at 43rd and 10th. Figured we should try it, and it should be trouble-free.”

‘Trouble’ meaning the Aurum coven. Emma still hadn’t figured out the reason for this centuries-long blood feud, but she did know that she’d been dragged in on the side of Coroza, under a woman named Cora; turns out Walsh had been one of her cronies. And it normally wouldn’t affect her, save for the fact that her parents were turned by someone in Aurum (led by the mysteriously mononymed Gold) and that had dangerous implications, not to mention the rising tensions between the two groups as they began to encroach on each other (and each other’s feeding grounds) on the Upper West Side. 

“You sure? That’s awfully close.” 43rd had become an arbitrary border between the two factions, and there had been more than a few skirmishes while people were on the prowl for a midnight snack. She’d had a couple close calls of her own while tracking down skips in the part of town, but had somehow managed to evade notice.

“It’s on our side of the street,” her mom shrugged in response and grabbed her purse.

(Why one side couldn’t just move to another part of town, Emma didn’t know, but she was definitely aware of how stubborn vampires could be. And she wasn’t going to move; there’s no way they’d be able to get a place like this anywhere else for a reasonable price.)

She’d hardly gotten out the door when a familiar scent caught her nose—and not necessarily a welcome one: Graham.

“Uh, hi, Emma,” he stammered, while giving her a shy yet adorable grin.

“Hey,” she answered back, not meeting his eyes—and instead finding Snow’s, who was intently studying the sky. Snow had been trying to get the two of them together for at least 10 years, and while Graham was a great guy, a good friend, and handsome to boot, Emma had never been attracted to him like that. A fact that seemed to keep falling silent on Snow’s ears despite her enhanced hearing. 

(His blue eyes were pretty, but they weren’t the pair that kept haunting her.)

Given the sudden awkwardness that settled over the group—because that was apparently something you had to deal with whether you were dead or alive—it was up to Emma to break it. Not that she had any skill in that department.

“Alright, uh, let’s go,” she said with little confidence, and set off towards the club, with the others falling in behind her; Graham stayed close and if she wasn’t mistaken, attempted to put an arm around her, but she walked a bit faster to avoid his reach. The bar was only a few blocks away, which they could normally cover in less than a minute, but they had decided to blend in with the crowd tonight; it was nice to be normal every now and then.

But still—every now and then, the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck rose, and it had nothing to do with Graham’s proximity. Something was coming; she just didn’t know what. 

That wasn’t for her to worry about tonight, though. Tonight was for fun and drinks and dancing. And once they got to the darkly-lit club, that’s what she focused on for the next hour or so—

—Until her gaze locked with the blue eyes from her dreams.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Killian took a deep breath as soon as he exited the jetway—and immediately regretted it. He didn’t know why he expected LaGuardia to have changed at all in the past 15 years. Despite all the reconstruction, it still smelled the same: of old coffee, questionable sushi, and stale humans. (The latter was a double-edged sword: despite eating shortly before he got to Heathrow, there had been a few delays before takeoff and he was feeling rather peckish now, although nothing here seemed appetizing. Which was probably something he had in common with mortals at the moment.)

He didn’t know why he’d assumed that he might have been routed through JFK this time—why would he think Gold would care enough to properly welcome home his best operative from abroad after 15 years?—but he tried to push that ire to the back of his mind as he summoned an Uber.

At least the delays meant he landed just as the sun was setting; his previous plan had been to hang around the terminal until dusk, so at least this prevented any awkward encounters with some overtalkative Midwesterner on their way back to Cleveland. Signs pointed him to the ride share lot, and a gentleman named Marco was waiting to take him home.

On the ride into the city, he marveled at how New York always seemed like a living, breathing thing, constantly evolving and changing. He could still sharply remember the dusty bustle of the town more than 200 years ago, the sound of carriages running over dirt and cobbled streets. He’d watched as the city grew, sprawling both across and beyond the Manhattan island and up into the sky, the smell of horses and people and sweat replaced by the acrid stench of exhaust (although, even his extra-sensitive nose had gotten used to it in short order). 

So it was both surprising and not to see how much the city had changed even in the last 15 years, most noticeably in the skyline: the Twin Towers were still fresh in everyone’s memory when he’d left, so to see the new One World Trade Center in their place was a bit jarring. But the sun still glinted golden off the skyscrapers the same way; pedestrians still hardly waited for the crossing signals to give the okay to go; and though he wasn’t in a yellow cab, a language barrier still lay between him and his driver. 

Cash tips were understandable to all, though, which Killian handed over once they’d arrived at his apartment building on 34th—the Chelsea side. He’d owned his flat since the building was constructed, which was fairly impressive, but did require him to occasionally change the name on the paperwork lest anyone notice anything suspicious. 

(Someone had figured out at some point that it was helpful to have an ally in both the Social Security office and the DMV; Archie and Jefferson traded off every 20 years or so in order to help create revolving identities for the members of the vampire community. The name on his ID at the moment was Kyle Johnson, and during the past 100 or so years since he’d been required to have one, he’d also been Killian James, Ian Joseph, and—though he had to admit, he’d picked this one just to see if he could get away with it—James Hook.)

And thankfully, he’d had a reliable roommate for the past 80 years. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out after braving the still-shaky lift to the top floor.

“About bloody time,” Robin called back from the couch. “You know I had dinner ready for you before you left?”

“Ha,” Killian answered. “I’d hate to see what that looks like after all this time.”

“Oh, I let him go. And good thing, too—he ended up writing Hamilton.”

Killian had barely poked his head into his musty bedroom before he returned to the living room. “You didn’t actually have Lin-Manuel Miranda in here, did you?” To most people’s surprise, Killian was a bit of a theater nerd; the West End was great, but he was looking forward to catching up on Broadway again. 

“No. But maybe that’s a good strategy if we want to get tickets.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Robin chuckled. “There’s a bottle in the fridge you can have; figured you’d be hungry when you got back.”

Killian tossed his luggage in his room and emerged again. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?”

“Maybe a few times over the past several decades.”

He downed the bottle quickly; the black blood market never gave the best stuff—considering the type of mortals who would be willing to sell their blood for money and didn’t qualify to sell plasma—but it hit the spot in a pinch, and every now and then had something good. This definitely wasn’t, but it sated his thirst long enough to take a shower and wash the airplane off of him.

As he stared at the fogged mirror with nothing looking back at him, rubbing his palm over his permanently well-trimmed scruff, he realized he hadn’t yet checked in with Gold. Even if he’d spent the last decade-plus doing the man’s bidding from abroad, it was still easy to forget about him.

Well, mostly—until he glanced back down at his blunted left wrist. Then it just brought ancient memories to the surface, as fresh as the day they’d happened, no matter how many centuries had intervened.

Which reminded him: he was still missing something. He shot off a quick missive to Gold as he pulled some clothes out of his depressingly dated closet (having left anything more modern in a consignment shop in London), managing to put together something vaguely timeless. But before he dressed, he turned his attention on the nightstand drawer.

He slowly pulled it open, though he knew what would be inside: his hook, as sturdy and sharp as ever, with its well-worn leather brace. Sure, he had a fairly modern prosthetic hand—one that TSA didn’t mind so much—but the hook had come first, and was definitely his preferred artificial appendage. He hadn’t meant to go so long without it, but then again, he hadn’t expected his London assignment to take so long. 

(Although, 15 years to him was roughly the same as 2 or 3 to the average mortal.)

Slipping on the soft leather was like greeting an old friend (well, another one, albeit he’d known this one longer than Robin). And snapping in the hook settled a part of him that he hadn’t realized had been adrift all these years. It didn’t fully still the odd sense of anticipation he’d had ever since he landed, but he definitely felt more at ease.

With that settled, he finished dressing and then headed back to the living room and flopped on the sofa next to Robin. “When did we get a new couch?” he asked indignantly, inspecting the unfamiliar upholstery.

“As soon as you left.”

“And what was so wrong with the previous one?”

“It was from the 70s! It was hideous and uncomfortable and you know it.”

Killian could only sigh; Robin was completely right. 

“Anyways,” Robin continued. “We’ve plenty of time to argue about furniture but very little to decide what we’re doing tonight.”

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“You arrive back in North America for the first time in a decade and a half and you think that’s not a reason to celebrate?”

“Well, I was in Toronto a few years ago.”

“Still the Commonwealth. Doesn’t count. What do you want to do? There are quite a few people anxious to see you.” 

Well that’s good for them, he thought, but he wasn’t so sure of the same. The time away in the UK had definitely made him reconsider some of his connections back here in the States; getting away from the drama with Coroza had made him realize how petty he found it all. Though he’d never be completely extricated given that Gold was his sire, he’d definitely be alright with staying distant from the other frivolous disputes.

(And after spending a bit too much time in Brighton—particularly with some headstones bearing the name Jones and some rather divy taverns that were still somehow open all these centuries later—he wished more than ever to be free of Gold’s influence. Alas.)

He supposed he could placate them for one night, though; it’s not like he was going to sleep anyway. “Are there any new clubs to check out?”

“For you—plenty. For all of us...aye, there’s one that’s just opened up about...10 blocks away? Ish?”

“In which direction?”

“Up, but kind of midtown so it should be in the clear.” Meaning no one from Coroza would be there.

“Sounds fine, then,” he replied; after so many years, every club started to feel the same, but he was willing to give it a shot.  

It wasn’t long before he found himself dressed in a waistcoat and slacks that were trendy a decade ago, hoping his hair was styled appropriately (he stopped caring about 130 years ago), and waiting outside the apartment building of Robin’s girlfriend Regina.

“Jones, it’s the 21st century; why do you still have a fish hook on the end of that arm?” she greeted when she emerged from the tower, with a young vampire behind her. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Regina,” he tossed back. They’d known each other for well over a couple hundred years and this was just how they communicated. Nodding at the young man, he continued, “Who’s this?”

“This is Henry; he’s new.” The statement was matter-of-fact enough that Killian knew she wouldn’t say anything else. But he seemed friendly, albeit nervous, and Gold never complained about new vampires on their side—just Coroza.

It didn't take much for him to immediately think of Emma. His thoughts had drifted to her more than he cared to admit over the past years, wondering if she’d acclimated or if she’d burned out. It was definitely odd that such a brief encounter had left such a lasting impression, but at the same time, it had taken him well over 250 years to get over his first love; he was a romantic at heart, even if that heart no longer beat. 

He of course said nothing about it as they continued on; if no one had discovered what he’d done that night by now, he was content to leave it that way. There were other ways of him finding out if she was still around, such as—

—Such as the green eyes staring at him from the other side of the club, barely a minute after he’d entered it, freezing him in place.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @shireness-says​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @bleebug​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @fergus80​ @killianmesmalls​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @ineffablecolors​ @laschatzi​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​ @stubblesandwich​​ @lenfaz​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @lfh1226-linda​

[the-girl-with-the-glass-heart]

So I’ve decided to talk in depth about my sander sides high school au, specifically the characterization of Remus, Janus and Virgil.

I tried to make a rather grounded and realistic take on things with some conventional teen drama tropes mixed in there along with some serious storylines about family and the issues Remus, Virgil and Janus experience because of it.

I will make a part two to this post if you guys so desire with the other sides and possibly Picani and Remy.

Virgil is the main character of this au, he moved back to his old home town after moving away when he was fairly young to go start a new life with his dad.

Virgil and his dad are all on their own with little money to their names making them live in the poorer area of town, which doesn’t exactly help Virgil with bullies.

Virgil also has some deep underlying issues about his mother since she died in labor and thus never got to meet her, his dad goes to great lengths to teach him about her and how much she unconditionally loved him but it does little to quell Virgil’s complex feelings towards her.

Despite the amount of attention his dad gives him he does feel especially empty and sad about his lack of a mother, it doesn’t exactly help that because of the way Juliet died Virgil feels in some way, partially responsible.

This would later cause him to build up emotional walls to cover up how he really felt about his mom, insisting that he’s okay and doesn’t think about it often.

This also causes him to stress a lot about small situations and in more extreme scenarios full on fits of anxiety due to his underlying fears about losing even more people in his life.

Ultimately this all mixed together with the bullying Virgil received growing up for his lack of a mother made him a very tense and self conscious individual with a deep rooted fear of the unknown and loss.

Virgil still has a support group there for him, like I said, his dad is always there to provide and take care of him no matter what and his friends always make an effort to understand his plights despite not really having the same issues as he does.

Really the only person who comes close to understanding him is Remy, who also is raised by a single parent and understands the hurt that can leave you with.

Remy’s mom and Virgil’s dad are quite close though and since they are neighbors try to take care of each other’s kids the best they can when the other can’t.

Overall Virgil’s life isn’t all that great but it could be a whole lot worse if he didn’t have his friends with him.

Now onto Janus, Janus’s familial troubles culminate into anger and spite, his family was rather normal until he was around five years old and his parents got divorced and it was rather messy.

Janus couldn’t adjust very well to not only his parents being separated but also his dad losing his job and most of his money, making him move across town, next door to Virgil.

He coped with it after a little while but everything seemed to get way worse after one day when he was visiting his mom and her boyfriend, an electrical fire started and Janus got trapped in the bathroom causing him to get very bad burns all up one side of his body, making him lose most of his hair and most importantly of all, push his mother to take extreme lengths to protect him.

She just seemed to become more and more irrational over time and take even more precautions that made little sense to anyone but her.

She even prevented Janus from hanging out with Remus since his behavior kinda scared her which only made Janus want to hang out with him more.

She was already very over protective of him but the fire just made everything worse and eventually Janus developed a habit for lying as a way to hide his more “dangerous” activity from his invasive mother.

Janus was often confused and didn’t know exactly how to feel about his mother, his love for her was both very strong since he admired how much she wanted to protect him but also was full of anger and spite for how controlling she was.

At least his dad and step mom were better, his father though not the most emotionally available still takes care of him and loves him while his step mom is the most wholesome a person could possible be and much better than his step dad (Who’s just a complete idiot).

Janus mostly deals with his problems by venting about them to remus and going through lengths to cover his burns (wearing hats to cover up his bald spot, gloves to hide his hands, jackets to hide his arms, ect.) unfortunately though sometimes this will lead to confrontations with Virgil.

Virgil’s fear of loss and want to keep his loved ones safe will often clash for Janus’s demands for freedom and independence making them sometimes clash until remus tries to calm them down.

As for Remus, unlike his friends he didn’t care much about how his family was, yes they are clearly dysfunctional and Remus fully knows how his families relationship was strained and probably really toxic but he didn’t care.

Even though favoritism was really clear at his house, his parents weren’t home often due to work and his brother seemed to get everything, remus just sorta took it in stride and used it as an excuse to grow more independent and bombastic.

He likes himself, in fact maybe he likes himself a little too much tbh.

He developed a strong sense of self, something that Janus really admired and would often look up to him for.

Eventually his teen years hit and surprise surprise, this independent loud bastard with strong opinions got a really weird sense of style (I mean, who else would draw on a fake mustache and dye their hair grey while wearing chokers and knee length boots?) and a penchant for partying.

Not only would he party (very hard, sometimes at bars with fake IDs) but he also started having small relationships that didn’t last very long (didn’t matter who it was, hell it could of been a guy who was already in a committed relationship, remus didn’t care).

To go along with his bold and odd personality he was often contradictory, putting on a persona of the stupid party guy while also being surprisingly intelligent, to the point that he even rivaled Logan (some one had to be the smart twin).

He has a great relationship with his brother, they actually get along very well, they just don’t speak much during school hours.

Remus has a very can do attitude and is completely determined to be his own person and nobody is gonna fell him other wise.

So yeah... if you read this far thank you, I appreciate it.

[jemfisch]

⌠ MASON GOODING, 21, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, JEREMY “JEM” FISCHMAN II! according to their records, they’re a SECOND YEAR year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION & “MACGUYVER” SURVIVAL SKILLS AND NAVIGATION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (old hip hop blaring from headphones, a broken crtv with the cords ripped out and repurposed, the smell of spray paint graffiti, brightly colored shirts with 80s patterns). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 06/23/99, they always request their ICE CREAM SANDWICHES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati, 24, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION

fox mulder (the x files)

hogarth hughes (the iron giant)

will turner (pirates of the carribean)

robin hood

george weasley (harry potter)

aladdin

spike spiegel (cowboy bebop)

mark watney (the martian)

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO

his parents were high school sweethearts and married just before they attended college at harvard together, securing careers at the kennedy space center. 

jeremy fischman sr dies under mysterious circumstances in a lab accident and ellen is twenty-eight and left alone to raise baby jem. things only go downhill from here. jeremy was the love of her life and she becomes obsessed with his disappearance and all kinds of conspiracy theories, blows a bunch of her money. it doesn’t take long for her to be fired, savings blown on expensive equipment or sunk into internet hoaxes

they move to a rough neighborhood in gainesville where jem grows up. he likes jem, not jeremy, jeremy is his father. he’s never experienced the perfect life his parents used to live, the white picket fence, the shiny space shuttles. he’s only got this, and honestly, he doesn’t hate it. 

the neighborhood’s rough, but there’s a lot of fun characters, and his mom is practically his best friend – aside from his next-door neighbor, NOAH WARD.

jem’s mom does odd hacking jobs from the comfort of their home. some of them are shadier than others, she makes connections with a lot of private investigators in town and looks into people’s cheating husbands and tracks down birth parents and missing people. she does pro bono work too, a kindhearted woman, she can never say no to those in need, even if she’s not so fortunate herself. as jem gets older, he learns everything that he knows from her

every summer vacation growing up, jem and his mom would pack their bags and make home in a camper van, traveling across the country. in some ways, this was great mother-son bonding, but this wasn’t why they did it. his mom never gave up looking for the truth about her husband,  but hacking into secure, top-secret government databases is nothing like hacking into the gainesville city hall, it’s hard work, and they travel around the country methodically so that their signal cannot be traced. every summer they get close, but never close enough.

when noah moves away for college, jem stays home. he’s not comfortable leaving his mom. 

he keeps up with hacking jobs and keeping up with looking for his dad on the side. he doesn’t think they’ll ever find him, his mom holds out hope but jem is eighteen years old and a bit more jaded now, he figures the guy’s just really dead and well, the conspiracy of it all matters less and less when he knows that either way, he’s still grown up without him. 

a lot of jem’s social life is online, whether it’s friends from hacking forums or via soundcloud.

when he’s not hacking, he’s making music. his passions of technology and music mix and he creates his own beats and soundcloud, mashing together songs, and even putting together a popular meme track or two used on tiktok. 

it’s actually a bit lucrative, but that’s not why he does it. doesn’t even really use his name, catch him on soundcloud…username? uncutjems.

every time he and his mom get close to finding his dad, there’s just more to do, and it’s almost like someone KNOWS what they’re doing. 

jem’s right about that – he is being watched. since noah’s admission to gallagher, recruiters have been aware of the boy who taught her everything she knew. 

when gallagher makes the choice to start allowing male students, an agent shows up at his door offering him a once in a lifetime chance at a free education. 

jem doesn’t have any strong ambition to go into espionage, per say, but he won’t say no to advanced classes taught by some of the world’s brightest minds – and a chance to reunite with his best friend. however, he hasn’t stopped trying to get into the government’s records and still has ambitions of going into music production.

PERSONALITY. 

INTUITIVE. jem has a natural intuition about things and he trusts himself and his own opinions about things. i suppose you could perceive this as confidence, but honestly he’s just really SMART, good at absorbing facts even subconsciously and putting things together about people or situations. in a sense, he has a habit of being correct – he definitely comes off as intelligent, even though his grades in school have never been very good. he just has different priorities. 

LOYAL. make a friend out of jem and you have a friend for life, he’ll take your secrets to the grade and he’s pretty trustworthy. he’s the type of guy that gets along with pretty much everyone but he has a few select, close friends because he is somewhat intentional about the company that he keeps. he’s friendly and kind, but he keeps his inner circle of people he trusts close and somewhat exclusive. 

PROTECTIVE. kind of has papa bear energy, you know ? maybe the dad friend of your friend group, but in a laid back way, he might not seem like he’s the type to spring into action but call someone close to him a rude name and you’ll see his fist coming at your face. he’s protective but not possessive, i guess is how i would describe it, but i think he gives pretty good advice as well because he’s really hoping the best for ppl. 

MALINGERING. jem is kind of a SLACKER! at least, that’s what teachers have called him in the past, he simply does not dream of labor. he’s just kind of doing his own thing, will fake sick to skip a class, whatever else, even though he likes producing music he doesn’t really have a great ambition for anything, spy or otherwise. as long as he has a good computer setup, then he’s fucking chilling. 

MOODY. he’s laid back to the umpteenth degree when it comes to work or obligations, but he does have sort of mood swings, i guess he’s the sort of person that you would describe as grumpy at times ? definitely NOT a morning person and when he’s in an off mood, he can be hard to interact with or snap out of. 

DISORGANIZED. the sort of person to throw his stuff across the bed or leave piles of clothes on the floor to deal with later, maybe he’s not your favorite roommate for this reason. he has a habit of losing things that he just set down or whatever, things like that. 

HEADCANONS.

tbh you can think of him like...beca in pitch perfect ! he’s here bc he was offered a free education and he’s cool with that, but he’d rather be pursuing a future in music. a damn good hacker, though, and the gallagher recruiters are hoping that with some ‘ambition’ he’ll want to work for the government someday. 

played baseball throughout middle and high school and he’s fairly athletic – he can get pretty competitive when he plays, it kind of brings out a side in him that most people don’t expect to see because he’s fairly chilled out most of the time 

a boss with a slingshot. there is no reason for this, but he had one as a kid and he used to chase squirrels away from the bird feeders outside their home. he has great eyesight and his aim is great, but it’s literally the only weapon he’s proficient in

he’s not tiktok famous for his face, but he has two tiktok famous songs...he’s made like 12k in record deals for selling the rights, it’s just the kind of shit that he does goofing around in music software and he has a good ear for what is going to be catchy

he’s NOT a morning person, definitely a late night kind of guy, will stay up until all hours just fucking around on the computer and then he’ll sleep until 1 or 2pm, at least. getting up for morning classes is a struggle for them and he has slept through them on occasion.

funky sweaters, crazy socks, fun-patterned shirts, he dresses a bit like a circus tent at times, but you can’t say that he doesn’t have style – he dresses well, but it’s like he’s stepped out of a 90s cartoon or something

if he makes u a playlist he either wants to be ur friend so fucking bad or he’s head over heels in love with u

really likes making new things with old technology, he loves taking the macguyver courses and learning new things and he’s actually built his own computer and a lot of his own musical instruments 

usually has a couple bandaids because he’s a bit accident prone or can lose his focus when working in the lab. when he gets in his own head while working on a project, he literally cannot hear anything else – sort of selective hearing

likes fucking around with spray paint, if he can, he’s got a bit of an artistic streak and he doodles stickers on sticker paper sometimes. you can probably catch his tag around campus or even stuck to the latops of his close friends, it’s just a little man with a tv for a head. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

HACKING JOBS – if you STILL need a hacker for any of your wild backstory connections, jem is a great bet. he’s been doing paid jobs for people professionally since he could type, and he’s sort of an ace at getting in and out without leaving a trace...and he’s no gossip. so, your secrets would be safe with him. 

SMOKING BUDDIES – people that he can smoke up with, talk about life, talk about the bullshit of gallagher, but also people he can laugh with that don’t make him feel stressed or concerned about the future. 

MUSIC MAKING BUDDIES – if your character makes music, maybe they can collaborate on something...we’re about to drop the hottest mixtape of all time right here at gallagher academy i will teach myself garageband for this shit...jk but maybe

EX ON BAD TERMS – someone he dated last year...i’m imagining it was their first year and things were really great for the first semester, but shit fell apart second semester along with the school. maybe all the drama on campus caused distance, maybe he wasn’t there for them when they needed it, or maybe they got jealous of the way he always prioritizes noah ? a combination of things, we can hash out the details since i know some of you had some pretty angsty things going on second sem, and maybe it’s awkward now because it feels like there’s unfinished biz. 

EX ON GOOD TERMS / LOVERS TO FRIENDS – maybe someone that was a rebound and things didn’t really work and they saw that, maybe he wasn’t over his ex or whatever but they were able to stay friends ? it’s up to you how your muse feels about it but i want an ex that jem also has no hard feels about and actually is maybe sort of protective of them and cares a lot about them finding happiness, they bonded hardcore. 

EX-FLING – idk maybe they were hooking up for a while and then one of them started seeing someone else or one of them caught feels so they don’t hook up any more but it was super fun when they did !! also down for it to have been like a summer fling and once the summer ended. 

BROS – idk i would like for him to have a squad or something for him to just fuck around with <3 but it’s wholesome and they respect women

ONLINE FRIEND (ANONYMOUS) – he spent a lot of time on forums online and stuff so i’d love for him to have an online friend !! maybe cute if they just know each other by their screen names rn and we can do a bunch of text chats and maybe they both know they go to gallagher but they simply. haven’t met idk

ONLINE FRIENDS – also friends he met online that aren’t anonymous they could’ve met through any number of forums but probably have similar interests like music or hacking so they’re long time homies , someone he’s known almost as long as noah

ONE NIGHT STAND – self explanatory. maybe they’re super good friends and now it’s kind of awkward now and they want to get back to a place of normalcy but it’s simply not normal, maybe they fucked things up by breakin the tension on like. halloween or some shit. 

FRIENDZONED – someone jem accidentally friendzoned and maybe he doesn’t even realize it himself but they had a thing for him and he really just didn’t realize it bc he can’t tell unless you spell it out for him.

CLASS RIVALS – someone who tries really hard and cares about class a bunch vs. jem who doesn’t give a fuck but he keeps making the grade without really trying, so they’re ? bitter about it ? and so the two really do not hit it off because of that and they go back and forth , i just rly want a classroom rivalry. maybe even this rivalry and them nagging him actually motivates to try in the class just to piss them off 

 ENEMY – this person shared a secret with jem and then it somehow got out on the gossip blog idk ! they think jem told and now they hate him. 

anything pls let’s chat !

[adavenhaikyuu]

If The World Could Stand Still

Summary: 

Painfully familiar green eyes stared at him from across the hall. For a moment, Oikawa felt like he was dreaming, like one of those nightmares that’d leave him waking up in a cold sweat even as he mourned losing them to the daylight. Why was Iwaizumi here? And why did he have to be Oikawa’s new roommate?

“Hi, I’m Daichi,” the words broke him out of the green-eyed spell he’d been under, Iwaizumi looking away.

“Iwaizumi,” he bowed his head in greeting, eyes sliding back to a still frozen Oikawa. Daichi shifted next to him, shoulder gently bumping into his. “Do you two know each other?”

“We’re childhood best-”

“Yeah, we used to live near each other,” Oikawa cut Iwaizumi off, ignoring the frown his words earned. It wasn’t a lie and it’d been too long for them to still consider each other their best friend. Even if Oikawa’s heart ached at the thought.

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa

Chapters: 1/~

Word Count: 2238

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072911/chapters/68776866#workskin 

“Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you meet again. And meeting again, after moments or a lifetime is certain for those who are friends.” - Richard Bach

*************************

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah, Tooru?”

“Why does the sun have to rise?”

*************************

Rain drizzled from a dreary sky, splattering against the foggy window panes. Oikawa’s head lolled against the slightly chilled glass, his eyes flickering open as the last tendrils of sleep slipped away. A fuzzy haze still clouded his mind, the hour-long bus nap not nearly enough to make up for two sleepless nights. He groaned and pushed himself upright, shuffling his feet until they hit the duffle bag on the ground.

It wasn’t like he’d meant to stay up for so long. How could he have known a new hero would move into town? And the bastard had been such a pain too…

Oikawa huffed and pulled out his phone, swiping through the series of texts and social media updates in his notification bar. Clicking on the one from Kuroo, Oikawa leaned his head back against the glass, ignoring the way his ribs ached.

[Kuroo:] Sure ya dont need me to come today? You took a beating last night so I wouldnt mind helping you move your stuff in

[Oikawa:] I know better than to let your mangey paws get on my stuff

[Oikawa:] I lost two hats last time! Two!

[Kuroo:] You said you didnt like them!? I was helping, you cant still be mad

[Oikawa:] I can and am.

Snapping the phone closed, Oikawa let his eyes slip shut. That alley cat was dumber than he looked if he thought Oikawa would fall for that trick again. They’d been partners in crime for too long for it to still work. Besides, it wasn’t like Kuroo had gotten away from their encounter with Anzen, or whatever he was called, injury-free.

The damn bastard had already joined up with another hero when he'd confronted their infamous selves in a jewelry shop, ruining two weeks' worth of planning and leaving them both roughed up. The whole incident was made worse because half his injuries were a result of Oikawa getting distracted by how hot the new hero was. It wasn’t fair!

The bus squealed to a stop, ending any hopes he had of getting more rest. It was a good thing he’d already lost his roommate for the semester so he could crash after getting all his stuff in the dorm. The school had attempted to make him room with someone, something he highly opposed.

Oikawa didn’t want anyone else sharing his space, especially not the rando the university initially tried to stick him with. One text conversation with the guy and Oikawa was convinced he’d only ever used three-in-one shampoo and body wash. That wasn’t the sort of environment Oikawa needed to be living in, it’d be bad for his skin.

Plus having a roommate wasn’t exactly conducive to keeping his nightly escapades a secret.

Convincing his no-longer roommate to request a room switch had been child’s play compared to what he usually convinced people to do. The next two roommates the university had tried to throw at him had been similarly dealt with. Thankfully, they’d stopped trying after the third person requested out within the month since room assignments were sent out.

Oikawa had already sent most of his items to the dorm and he hefted the one duffle bag he’d brought with him as he stood, waiting his turn to exit the bus. Fresh air from the open doors swirled around him, clearing the mild ache in his head as he breathed in the damp wind. Slipping into the aisle, Oikawa held his duffle close and shuffled off the bus.

Rain dripped onto his head and a shiver passed up his spine at the chill. It was far colder than it should be for the end of summer. Looking up, Oikawa narrowed his eyes and breathed out, daring any more rain to fall on his perfectly styled hair.

Naturally, the rain obeyed.

Campus bustled with activity despite the rain. Students huddled under umbrellas with maps while their mom hovered over their shoulders and their dad held the boxes, slowly getting soaked. He grinned at the girls he passed, catching their reddening faces as he threw them a wink and a wave before carrying on toward his dorm. It never hurt to start the fan club early. The suspicious glares from their fathers made it all the funnier. One last bit of family drama before the child and parent parted ways.

Coming to a stop outside his new home, Oikawa fished out his phone. Throwing up a peace sign, he smiled and snapped a photo. It needed a filter, but it’d work for today’s Insta post. Typing up a quick caption, Oikawa posted the photo and re-pocketed his phone as he turned back to the stairs.

A shoulder knocked into him and Oikawa stumbled forward, hissing as it jostled his bruised side but catching himself before he could hit the stairs. The other guy wasn’t so lucky. Books tumbled out of the box he’d been carrying and spilled onto the wet stairs.

“Sorry!” The other guy said, already scrambling to pick up his fallen items. Rain continued to fall on the books, soaking into their pages despite the guy’s best efforts. Crouching down, Oikawa picked up the books nearest him and let the faint breeze dancing around him ruffle the damp pages.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” the guy said, coming to a stop in front of Oikawa. He was kneeling on the wet pavement (wasn’t he worried about his pants?) with his unboxed books filling his arms, not an umbrella in sight. Water dripped off his dark brown hair into his matching brown eyes making him look quite similar to the many dads he’d passed on his way here. Instead of handing the books back, Oikawa took a few more off the precarious pile, earning him a confused look which he repaid with a dazzling smile as he stood.

“Need some help?” he asked as the other guy also got to his feet.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m Daichi,” the guy bobbed his head in greeting, his own smile lighting up his face. Oikawa tilted his head, eyes taking in the rest of the fairly plain-looking guy.

“Oikawa.”

“Thanks, Oikawa, but I can take it from here." He gestured to the books Oikawa was holding. Glancing down at the wet cardboard box on the ground, he raised a brow. He really doubted the guy could handle it all. Well, his mother had always said one good deed would be repaid with another.

"I'm on the top floor anyway, so I can carry them if you want," he shrugged and readjusted the books so they were easier to hold. Daichi's eyes widened.

"That's where I'm going too. Maybe we'll live near each other," Daichi grinned and started up the stairs again in lieu of accepting his offer, Oikawa trailing behind him. A drop of rain hit his shoulder, an icy shiver crawling across his skin. Breathing out, Oikawa let a few more drops of rain fall on his clothes, a warm breeze dancing around him to keep out the chill.

He couldn't exactly walk in completely dry, could he? That’d be suspicious now that someone was paying attention to him. He already regretted offering to help.

The rain still didn't dare touch his hair.

“So what’s your major?” Daichi asked as they entered the lobby and made for the elevator. Pushing the button, Oikawa leaned against the wall and shrugged.

“History, you?” It’d been his best subject in high school, something Kuroo always complained about, and it gave him plenty of time to dedicate to research without people getting suspicious about what he was looking up. Plus, it didn’t require a lot of math classes. Even thinking about that subject made Oikawa shiver.

“Biology, I want to get into Vet school in a few years,” he smiled and Oikawa realized many of the books they were holding had to do with animal anatomy. Maybe he could convince Daichi to get him some medical supplies. That might make getting his jacket wet worth it.

The elevator dinged and slid open, both of them shuffling inside along with three other students, pushing Oikawa to the back corner near the window. He watched as the ground slowly fell away, the elevator bringing them higher and higher. They stopped two times before reaching the seventh floor, Daichi and Oikawa stepping out into their new shared hall.

“What’s your room number?” Oikawa asked. Daichi fumbled for his key, nearly losing several books off the stack.

“Seven-twenty-nine,” He said, reading off the tag attached to the key and straightening out the pile. Oikawa’s eyes widened.

“I’m seven-thirty,” they wouldn’t be suitemates he noticed while walking down the hall, odds and evens were on opposite sides, but they’d still be across-the-way neighbors. What a coincidence.

Their rooms were at the far end of the hall next to the smallest of the three study/recreation rooms on this floor. Oikawa recognized his boxes piled next to the end door on the right. A door that was suspiciously open.

Kuroo wasn’t moving in until tomorrow and he hadn’t told the alley cat his room number. He could have asked someone for help figuring it out but something in his gut told Oikawa it wasn’t Kuroo he could faintly hear moving around in the room.

Had the University really given him another roommate? So much for good karma after helping Daichi.

“Looks like your roommate is already here,” Daichi commented. Oikawa hummed and set the books down next to Daichi’s door. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Oikawa whirled around and came face to face with the absolute last person he’d ever expected to see again.

*************************

“What do you mean?”

“Why does the sun have to rise? Why can’t we stay out under the stars forever?”

“Aren’t you afraid of the dark?”

*************************

Painfully familiar green eyes stared at him from across the hall. For a moment, Oikawa felt like he was dreaming, like one of those nightmares that’d leave him waking up in a cold sweat even as he mourned losing them to the daylight. Why was Iwaizumi here? And why did he have to be Oikawa’s new roommate?

“Hi, I’m Daichi,” the words broke him out of the green-eyed spell he’d been under, Iwazumi looking away.

“Iwaizumi,” he bowed his head in greeting, eyes sliding back to a still frozen Oikawa. Daichi shifted next to him, shoulder gently bumping into his.

“Do you two know each other?”

“We’re childhood best-”

“Yeah, we used to live near each other,” Oikawa cut Iwaizumi off, ignoring the frown his words caused. It wasn’t a lie and it’d been too long for them to still consider each other their best friend. Even if Oikawa’s heart ached at the thought.

“Ok-ay, well, I’m going to let you two talk. Thanks again for helping with my books,” Daichi smiled at the both of them and escaped inside his room. That’s all Oikawa wanted to do right now.

So much for his plan to catch up on sleep.

Oikawa ignored Iwazumi and picked up one of his boxes, moving past the other boy to enter his new room. It was decent sized, nothing extravagant. Two twin beds sat against opposite walls, dressers situated at their ends and two desks nestled side-by-side between them in front of the double windows. To the left of the door was a closet and to the right, a sink next to the door leading to the bathroom.

Iwaizumi’s things were already scattered on the right side of the room, so Oikawa made his way to the left dresser and set his box and duffle on top. He’d have to reevaluate where to put his gear now that he had a roommate. Especially since he didn’t think Iwazumi would be as easy to run off as the other guys.

Turning around, Oikawa once again found himself face-to-face with Iwaizumi. His heart leaped to his throat. Two boxes of his stuff were in Iwazumi’s arms, something Oikawa tried very hard to not look at. He knew his type and he knew who his type was based on. No reason to torture himself. Brushing past Iwazumi, Oikawa went to pick up the remaining box and bring it inside.

“Too-” Iwaizumi paused at the glare Oikawa sent him, “Oikawa...how’ve you been?” The question came out rushed like it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. Not like Oikawa cared what he wanted to say, his mere presence was enough to bring back the memories he’d buried long ago.

It wasn’t fair. Was this karma for his extracurricular activities? Why couldn’t he separate Iwaizumi from those thoughts? Why did it have to hurt looking at him and remembering everything that’d passed?

“I’ve been great, how about you?” Oikawa said, setting the box next to the sink, a bright and oh so fake smile lighting up his face. The green of Iwaizumi’s eyes dimmed as he easily accepted the lie as truth.

Oikawa didn’t know if he should be relieved or cry.

*************************

“You make the nighttime safe, Iwa-chan.”

“But the sun still needs to rise, Tooru, you know that. Why don’t you want it to?”

“It’s not the dark I’m afraid of anymore…”

[jessedvn]

HELLO ALL!! the name is sierra and i’m twenty four years old. hailing from the pst timezone, you’ll find me around at such odd hours due to my work schedule at the hospital and overall fact that i’m just a hot mess extraordinaire. message me or like this or whatever you wanna and we can connect on discord! ❤ check below for a little intro on my girl jessica. 

THE BASICS.

full name: jessica grace eden. age & birthdate: 30 // december 22nd, 1990. gender & sexuality: cis woman // bisexual. relationship status: single. children: bella eden. occupation: er nurse // part time bartender at rendezvous. hometown: charming, california. current residence: charming, california.

THE BACKGROUND.

trigger warning for miscarriage, still birth, unhealthy relationships, drug abuse !!

jessica was born and raised in charming, california to a father she lost way too soon and a mother who was more absent than present. she had a younger brother who she practically raised, only a handful of years between them, named jamie.

she was a cheerleader in high school and fairly popular despite basically being on her own with no parents for support. luckily enough, she had decent grades and good friends so her childhood wasn’t all that bad.

entering college and doing so locally, jessica decided to pursue nursing. her ultimate goal and dream is to climb the ranks and wind up on a surgical floor or an icu unit. but with working from an income on a part time job and grants that only took her so far, college was a little difficult for her. her studies were the most important, and caving to weakness, jessica turned to popping pills and partially cheating on exams to get by. not that she truly needed to, she was intelligent, but there were only so many hours in the damn day.

she eventually graduated and upon earning her degree, she also brought along her pill problem and took it home with her. she managed to curb it with the help of her little brother.

turning twenty five, jessica had met who soon would become the father of the child she lost. he was affiliated with the devil’s disciples and the relationship was on and off and a bit messy. after the loss of their child their relationship seemed to dissolve completely.

with her brother finding his way to the wicked wolves, jessica also did as well. she found solace and friendship and connection in quite a few of the members. one in particular saved her from an instance with her former boyfriend, her relapsing, all by forcing her out of the situation and smacking her right back into reality.

after the loss of her daughter and the almost relapse, jessica decided to get the hell out of dodge for some time. she left charming to pursue a job in seattle and stayed there for a few years.

now, jessica’s at a much better place than she was when she left charming. she’s returned within the last few years, scored a job at the hospital but was forced to work part time at the bar to make ends meet since she’s still pretty low on the totem pole at the hospital. she missed her girls and her brother and, well, seattle was lonelier than she’d like to admit...

THE PERSONALITY.

she’s a feisty, loud mouthed and passionate woman. she’s driven to better herself, but often falls weak to her sins and demons in the closet. she’s sharp and stubborn. loyal and soft. tenderhearted and has an insane desire for love... and garlic fries.

her aesthetics? high waisted levi jean shorts on curvy hips, open bedroom windows at night, 3am conversations in the booth of a diner, and cheap champagne in plastic cups.

THE WANTED CONNECTIONS.

FORMER BABY DADDY┊trigger warning for miscarriage, still birth, unhealthy relationships !! this one is a storyline driven connection but could work for plenty! basically, jessica and this guy had a sticky situation on their hands. he was a devil’s disciple ( how involved he was with the club is of course depending on said character ) and she was a young twenty something in college trying to make a life for herself who turned to popping pills to get through it. the relationship was on and off and very troubling, but they both were passionate and often fell back into each other. sooner or later, when the couple was off, jessica found herself pregnant. the pregnancy was hard on her body and almost as if her body betrayed her, she suffered a lot of complications up until late in the game. their child was still birth and the pair never seemed to recover or find their way back to each other afterwards. however, their relationship was passionate, so feelings could still be there.

YOUNGER BROTHER┊for headcanon purposes i’ve named him jamie, but this of course is not set in stone and can be changed upon chatting and getting things rolling! he’s about 25/26 and the younger brother of jessica. as you can read above, the lost their dad and their mom was absent and a runaway, so jessica was a big role model for jamie upon growing up. of course, when he got old enough, he began to work fo himself and do everything he could to provide for himself while also helping jessica throughout her college years. he’s currently a prospect for the wicked wolves which isn’t what jessica imagined for her brother, but she can’t really blame him for heading into that life, either.

THE SAVIOR┊this would be the member of the wicked wolves that jessica had met through her brother being introduced to the club. jessica jokes that he “saved” her from her former self, but in reality, he kind of did. he was the one, aside from her brother, that made sure jessica didn’t slip back into her old habits after suffering the loss of her daughter. he has an obvious distain for jessica’s ex, but that also fuels the fire that they are from opposing clubs. there’s a brief headcanon that he and jessica fell into bed together once the night before she left for seattle but jessica has yet to touch on that since returning to charming within the last four years.

GIRL SQUADS┊jessica is a girls girl. she needs all the girlfriends she can get. she’s got an insane love for samantha martinez and considers the girl her sister. buuuut, she keeps her circle close and tight knit, so she needs all the girlfriends that i can steal for her!

MORE CONNECTIONS...

NEIGHBORS┊jessica moved back into her childhood home upon returning to charming four years ago. it’s a smaller three bedroom home but it works, so obviously, she would have plenty of neighbors! probably old from where she grew up, and some new from where she moved back home.

EXES┊whether it be from high school, college, or before becoming pregnant, jessica did get around so this connection is very open!

ONE NIGHT STANDS, FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS, LOVERS┊jessica has yet to tie herself down since her previous ex, but a girl has got needs, y’know? this connection is pretty much open to all and is a little self explanatory! 

ENEMIES┊jessica is a lot to swallow so i’m sure she’s earned a few people who dislike her... or even hate her... here and there. she probably feels the same way.

OLD DISCIPLES CONNECTIONS┊i imagine since walking away from her ex quite a few of these relationships were severed, but once upon a time, jessica befriended a few members from her time with her boyfriend/baby daddy. it might be interesting to see how they interact now!

WICKED WOLVES CONNECTIONS┊mostly because of her brother and her job at rendezvous jessica is well known within the club. she’s also a nurse, so arguably, she’s useful to the club if they ever do need her help. she’s willing to provide it. she’s grown close with a few i’d imagine! and some probably question her loyalties i’m sure.

ANYTHING ELSE? LET’S BRAINSTORM┊i’m a big sucker for brainstorming ideas i’m not creative to come up with on my own OR even starting fresh and throwing them together to see an organic connection. i’m all for it!

[just-another-haikyuu-blog]

How did I manage to get myself in this situation? 😩 Part 2

Keishin Ukai × fem!reader

Tags: SFW,, slight anxiety

Tw: age difference, third year × coach ukai

Word count: 1000+

This actually reminded me of a time I had confessed to a much older guy. At least reminded me of the anxiety that I felt. 😅

*Alarm blares*

Your eyes shoot open but you just lay there immediately immersed in your thoughts.

It's a strange thing liking someone thats so much older than you. I guess at least you're 18 so that makes it legal right? But does that really matter when you're still in high school and have fallen for you favorite teams new coach? How could you go so long without having a crush on anyone to being completely flattened by the weight of your feelings for this man only by just having seen him.

You let out a brief sigh and get up. Your walk to the kitchen quiet as ever since your parents are always gone away on "business trips". "UGHH!" You grunt smacking your hands down on the counter from all these intrusive thoughts playing inside your head. "Might as well go for a jog since theres no school today." Keeping busy should be able to clear your head. Time to put a hold on all the wishing today was another school day so you could confess right away. Oh well.

You set out for your jog, you usually do this on your days off anyways so might as well keep with the pace. You pass a couple of neighbors greeting them for the morning, the usual. But this time your feet took you on a different path than before. Time for a change in scenery you thought to yourself. Blasting your music you continued on singing your favorite song to boost your confidence. That is until you happen upon a little convenience store. You felt a little thirsty and had forgot to grab your water before you left. So it must be fate that you came this way.

As you walk in the doors the word "fate" echoed in your head as you seen coach Ukai sitting behind the counter. He looked up and greeted you as you came in. The weight in your chest getting heavier as you hear him speak. "Good morning, coach. I didn't know you worked here." You tried to break the ice in this very noticeably awkward situation. He nods and goes back to reading. You sigh and continue on to grab a water and head back to the counter.

"I wasn't aware you lived close, or were you doing something for school?" He asked as you put the water down. "I live fairly close. This is my first time jogging out this way so I wasn't even aware of this store til now." He chuckles, "Guess you haven't lived here long to not have known about my store." You look down a little embarrassed "I've actually lived here since middle school. I just never had a reason to come this way before." He looked at you a little puzzled "So whats the reason to come this way today?" The word fate popped into your head again almost making you cringe.

"My feet just took me this way. Kinda funny coming up on a store when I had forgot my water," you laugh a little nervously and throw out the word, "must have been fate that led me here to quench my thirst." Immediately embarrassed by the words that came out of your mouth you try to hide your face. And he laughed "If I didn't know better I'd think that you were trying to flirt with me." You looked back up at him and with every bit of courage you had and said, "And what if I was?" The unlit cigarette he had just put between his lips dropped. He didnt know whether to laugh or take this seriously. By the look on your face he continues seriously "Well then Id have to tell you that I don't date minors and-" you interjected almost yelling "Im not a minor though! Im 18 and soon I'll be 19 in a few months." You looked down at the floor a bit in awe of how much courage you've managed and being able to keep yourself from bolting out the door.

Looking back up all that courage and bravado went out the window unable to read the expression on his face. Your heart sunk again, you wanted to make a run for it but you have to hear it. You have to be rejected in order to move on from this. He begins scratching the back of his head and looks at you, a little blush crossing his face, "Look, I don't know about it. The age gap is still pretty wide. How would your parents feel knowing you're with someone so much older?" The pit in your stomach completely disappearing hearing these words. "I'm the product of a relationship with an age gap. My dad is 10 years older than my mom. So I dont think they'd mind." You smile at him genuinely and continue, "Let me do this a little more properly. I like you coach- no Keishin. I've liked you since I first seen you. Which is rather odd since I've never liked anyone before. I'm not sure Id be a good girlfriend since I have no experience dating but I would like for you to go out with me. Please?" Its pretty obvious hes nervous about all this from how he gulped so hard to covering his mouth with his hand.

You stood there quietly waiting for his answer. Finally it dawned on you, "If you cant answer now at least think about it. Ill come back here the next time I go for a jog and you can tell me your answer then." You turn and walk out the door completely forgetting about your water. As soon as your outside you set your pace and began home. A little happy and a little sad at the same time but it wasnt ever an immediate no. Maybe- "Hey!" your thoughts interrupted by coaches yelling. You turn around to see him holding your water up waving you to come back. You jog back to him with only the intention to thank him and grab your water when he pulls you into him.

"You didn't even wait long enough for me to put everything into words," the palm of his hand back against his face, "but your answer is yes." It felt as if your heart was flying through the sky. Without a second thought your arms were around his neck pulling him down into a kiss. You pull back just as immediately, "Ah- sorry. I didnt mean to be so forwar-" he cuts you off with another kiss a little more sloppy but it gets his feelings across just fine. You can tell hes been just as in his emotions about you as you have been for him. Probably even feeling guilty as hell for having thought those though about someone he had assumed was a minor. Thats probably the reason hes avoided looking at me. He pulls back a little smile across his face from finally being able to do that. "So does this mean Im your girlfriend now?" you ask with the biggest smile youve ever had stuck to your face. He nods. "Lets exchange numbers then, please~" he nods again handing you his phone. Of course saving yourself as '♡Girlfriend' Once you're done you say your goodbyes, peck him on the cheek and begin your jog home again,

this time your heart a flutter. 

[clayolivers]

( ANDY BIERSACK, 29, CIS MALE ) I just bumped into [ CLAYTON OLIVER ] the other day while walking down [ WEST ] Kingsboro, where [ HE / HIM / HIS ] live. I hear they can be [ IMAGINATIVE ] and [ HOT HEADED ], but when I think of them I immediately think about [ SMUGED EYELINER, BLACK COFFEE, & RIPPED JEANS ].

trigger warning:  cheating,  bullying, depression,  therapy,  alcoholism

statistics.

full name :   clayton isaac oliver  nickname(s) :  clay  birth date :  10 / 28 / 90  zodiac :  scorpio  birth place : lee , maine   gender :  cis male  pronouns :  he / him / his  orientation :  pansexual ,  panromantic  occupation : musician ,   singer / guitarist for hometown outcasts current location : west kingsboro ,  new york city  education : high school graduate 

physical.

height :  6′4′’ eye color :  blue  hair color / style :  black ,   worn short and slicked back  dominant hand :  right  style :  almost always wearing black and some sort of leather 

personality. 

positives :  passionate ,   protective ,   charismatic ,  energetic  negatives :  intense ,   competitive ,   sensitive ,  stubborn  mbti : ENFJ moral alignment :  chaotic good  likes :  rainy afternoons ,   acoustic guitar ,  drawing ,  horror movies  dislikes :  closed minds ,   dark chocolate ,  sports ,  math  playlist :  blood // water by grandson ,  forget me too by machine gun kelly ,  lovely by billie eilish ,  monsters by all time low

family.

parents :  florence oliver ,  phil oliver  sibling(s) :  cheryl oliver ( twin ) ,  warren oliver ( younger ) pet(s) : floki ( black cat )  other(s) : dominic oliver ( ex-husband )

background. 

clay was born four minutes before his twin sister,   cheryl,   a fact that he brought up constantly as they grew.   their parents didn’t have much growing up and tried to give their children what they could.  phil worked as a waiter at a local diner and florence was a kindergarten teacher at the elementary school. 

it was difficult to keep up financially with three kids and bills,  but clay’s parents still managed to pull through. when clay was old enough,  he got a job at the diner with his dad as a busboy to help his parents.  things were going ok until they weren’t anymore.  clay started to notice that his dad was becoming close with another waitress  -  too close for it to be appropriate.  he told his mom and that led to her finding out that phil was cheating. the two got divorced and gave the children a choice of who they wanted to live with.  cheryl and clay chose to stay with their mother and   warren chose to go with their dad. 

while all of this was going on,   clay was getting bullied for the way he dressed,  acted,  and who he was attracted to.   his only solace being the music that he created after school and on weekends with jude.  they had been best friends since they were young and eventually those feelings developed into something more.  for the longest time,  clay thought that they were one sided until one night,  after getting a little drunk,  jude kissed him.  they talked about it and started dating despite other people’s opinions. at least clay knew that he would always have the support of his mother and cheryl. 

jude and clay formed a band with two others as senior year progressed. the music started to become more important than his grades and bouts of depression caused him to turn to the bottle more often. drinking became a bad habit that almost completely ended his relationship with jude.  when he saw how bad it was effecting his life,  clay decided to speak to his mom about attending therapy.  it was difficult at first to talk through his unresolved feelings about his dad and his struggles with being vulnerable around even the people closest to him, but eventually clay started doing better. 

after graduation, the band decided to head to kingsboro, nyc in order to hopefully catch their big break.  the only place they could afford at first was a two bedroom apartment that they all crammed into. though eventually they were able to get some gigs. nothing major at first, but clay came up with the idea to post music videos onto youtube and that led to more success, which ended in the band getting a record deal. 

just like he did with their first kiss, jude took the jump and proposed to clay. he was a little hesitant to say yes at first.  not because he didn’t love jude -  he was head over heels in love ,  but because of how his parent’s marriage ended. it took him a few days to talk it through but he did end up saying yes.  

the two were married for 5 years, moved into their own apartment, and even talked about adopting before things became rocky.  they started fighting fairly often and eventually being together felt like it wasn’t worth it, even if they still loved each other. clay and jude decided to separate but they haven’t technically signed the divorce papers yet. maybe there is a part of them that hopes one day they’ll find their way back to each other. 

after the break-up with jude, it was difficult for clay not to turn towards the bottle again. he decided to turn towards other distractions, that were probably just as damaging but didn’t involve old habits. he hooked up with many different people and spent most of his nights out until the early hours of the morning so that he could avoid coming home to an empty apartment. 

jude ended up also leaving the band to pursue another dream of his for awhile but is recently back in the band which makes things ... well complicated. 

connections.

band members  -  two of them are from his hometown / he considers his best friends 

hook ups  -  people that clay hooked up with after his bad break-up with jude   

rivals and lovers  -  a specific type of hook up, where these two have never gotten along but they have this attraction to one another that they can’t help giving into sometimes

coffee buddy -  clay doesn’t drink alcohol anymore, but he does thrive off of coffee so maybe they met at the coffee shop and it became a regular thing 

roommate -  now that clay has a vacancy in his apartment, he’s looking for someone to share it with, the only requirement is that they must like cats 

fans -  clay is in a pretty known band so people who enjoy his music 

friends -  he loves talking to people and it is easy for him to connect 

rivals -  maybe someone from another band or someone that just met him and didn’t like him 

neighbors - they could get together for movie nights or hate the fact that clay blasts his music at odd hours during the day 

flirtationship -  nothing serious has happened but clay loves to be flirty 

anything else that we can come up with!  these are just suggestions. hmu to plot!