#they both have a shitty parent and one that was absent

[briandraws]

Puzzles and Azazel actually have a lot in common.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

.

.

.

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

[tange-my-rine]

saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.

TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).

[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]

"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."

You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.

('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')

You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.

Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.

That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.

Where you were in love with him.

You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.

"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.

You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"

He nodded his head.

"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."

"So?"

"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."

"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"

"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"

He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"

"Might give me," you corrected.

"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."

"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"

"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"

"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."

Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.

"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"

"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.

"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.

When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.

'Now?' you mouthed back.

'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.

Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.

But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.

'Fine.'

Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.

'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'

He neatly nodded in agreement.

You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.

The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.

Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.

"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.

He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.

You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?

You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."

Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.

"Ya alright, love?"

You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-

"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.

Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.

Something in you snapped.

"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"

Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.

You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.

Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?

"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.

God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-

You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-

You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-

"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."

Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.

"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.

You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.

Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.

Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"

There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.

"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.

Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.

You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.

No more crying, you thought.

With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.

You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.

And then, you left.

"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."

You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.

Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."

With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.

Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"

And you did.

You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.

Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.

You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-

'Tan 🍊'.

Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.

He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.

The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."

"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."

"Love-"

"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.

He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."

"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.

"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"

"I never meant to-"

"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.

He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.

Couldn't he understand that?

Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.

And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.

There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.

And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.

It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.

But when you heard the door, you froze.

Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.

You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.

Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.

Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-

You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.

You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.

"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.

Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.

Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."

Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.

This time, you were the one to run away from him.

You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.

Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.

Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.

Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.

You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.

When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."

"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."

"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"

"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"

"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."

"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."

"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"

Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.

"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."

He tried again, but you didn't let him.

"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."

"Love," he started, small and barely there.

"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?"

"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.

"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"

Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.

"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."

"That's not..."

"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."

"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.

"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."

"Y/N-"

"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."

He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.

"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."

"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.

"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"

"Can't," he reiterated.

"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"

"Y/N-"

"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."

"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.

He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."

Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.

There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.

"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"

"I am," he reiterated.

"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."

"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"

"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."

"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."

"No-"

"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"

"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.

"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"

"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."

His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"

"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."

"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.

"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."

You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.

He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."

Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."

Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.

"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."

And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-

"Are we okay, love?"

It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.

"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."

"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."

"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."

"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.

"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."

Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.

And then again, and again, and again, and again-

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

[arlestial]

Hey, could you make a part two of how the Blue Lock boys make up for the forgotten date? (Nagi,Isagi,Bachira) 🌷

❝if you'd have been the one❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Alternative endings (angst or fluff/comfort)

word count : 4.3k

author-note : Hi !! I’m so happy y’all liked this, so I decided to write a part II. Some wanted angst, others comfort, so I did both in order to please everyone :) The part I is here ! Thanks for all your kindness, I’m overjoyed to see so much attention on my writings 😭 I hope you’ll like it !! take care of yourself ♡

tag-list : @cecee77, @mandapanda16, @mariyumemi, @someonethatisnobody, @erintaro, @missalienqueen, @8-xnny, @miyanosm, @neuvilletteismybby

ISAGI YOICHI’s eyes widened when he saw your text, after the game. He knew he fucked-up the instant he stepped inside the soccer field, already regretting his decision. He won, but the stadium applause sounded like an awful ringtone that woke him up to reality, a shrill noise crashing his organs and piercing his ears. His heart was racing; not because of the victory, but because of the apprehension. The fear. The panic, that perhaps, he had lost you. But you wouldn’t leave him, right ? Everybody make errors. You would forgive him, no need to stress. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. But in the depths of his own mind, he wasn’t this confident. He took his phone, excusing himself from his teammates that were celebrating, and isolated himself in the corridor. He tried to call, but you refused it twice. He groaned, his hands shaking, trying to tap a text quickly.

22:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

- read at 00:24a.m.

00:24a.m. | yoichi ♡ : honey please just accept the call

i know I fucked up, I’m sorry

i shouldn’t have done that

- read at 00:33a.m.

00:34a.m. | yoichi ♡ : i know you don’t want to talk to me right now

I’m coming over

- read at 00:38a.m.

00:39a.m. | y/n ♡ : gosh, how savvy and perspicacious of you.

- read at 00:39a.m.

00:40a.m. | yoichi ♡ : here in two minutes

- read at 00:41a.m.

You turned off your phone, completely mad. You clearly didn’t want to talk to him right now, especially this late. He couldn’t care less about you when he was playing on the field; and now, surprisingly, he knew that he fucked up and he regretted it ? Please. You decided to spend the night elsewhere, at your parents, since they were the only ones responding in the middle of the night - they were probably watching a movie at home and were a bit surprised to see you texting them a "hey, can I come over ? got an issue at home" text out-of-the-blue. As you exited your bedroom with a bag filled with spare clothes, you’re met by a raven-haired man, panting, still in his blue jersey, preventing you from leaving the house. He grabbed your waist when you tried to walk past him.

"Isagi, let me go."

"Love, listen. What I did was selfish, I know, it was a terrible mistake."

"So tell me, Isagi, when did you feel regret ? When you stood me up or when I texted you back, making it clear that I was upset ?"

"Actually, from the very first moment my foot landed on the field. But that doesn’t change anything, it’s still shitty of me, and i-"

"But it changes everything, in fact. So, you could’ve turned around. You could’ve joined me at this restaurant, like you promised me, no ? But you didn’t. So you just lied right in front of my face. How bold of you."

He felt like suffocating. You were right. He should’ve refused to play the match, even if there were the most talented players in the world; because you were his lover, goddamnit. He knew you were insecure, because he was rather absent, and he should’ve came to the date he promised to take you to. He was busy with Blue Lock, neglecting you in the process and not setting aside enough time to reassure you like he was supposed to. He wanted you to slap him, to punch him, as hard as you could; he wanted to suffer physically. It was easier to bear physical pain than to handle the mental distress he was in.

"But no, my sweet boyfriend Isagi Yoichi decided to stood me up to play some random game as if he’s not always away from me all the damn time."

"I don’t know why I did that, honestly. It was stupid, and I’m deeply sorry. You know that I love you a lot, right ? You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to loose you because I’m too immature to think before I-"

"Am I even enough for you ?"

You were losing patience, your tone now sharp, trying to bite away the tears from falling.

"Obviously you are, darling. You are more than enough, and you deserve so much better than me."

He hurried to say, his hands coming to your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. The concerned look on his face grew rapidly in a desperate, frightened one.

"That doesn’t feel like it. If it was the case, you’d have turned around. Soccer had always been your main interest, and I’ve always been the second. I don’t want to be with a guy that prefers a sport to his own partner."

ISAGI YOICHI had never experienced so much fear in a lapse of time this short. His heart skipped multiple beats - maybe it stopped completely, heavy. He heard the blood rushing in his veins, in his ears, as if the pulsations were the applause of a whole stadium; it was deafening. His breath hitched, goosebumps painting themselves on his clothed arms. Don’t go.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ Your mind kept telling you that he wasn’t feeling any regret, that he wasn’t really sorry. If this situation presented itself again, he would pick the same decision, leaving you alone, completely by yourself in this stupid restaurant, below the pitiful looks of the waiters, probably whispering at each other who could even stood you up like that. He put distance in your relationship since weeks, months even, ghosting you when he was too tired to send you at least one text to let you know that he loved you still. Regardless of his lack of attention towards you, he wasn’t even capable of respecting his own promises, as he might prefer to play soccer with his friends as usual. And you were just there, always waiting for him, in every situation, waiting for him to come home with a warm smile and a good dinner, sharing kisses, hugs and cuddles on the couch, disappointed when he was reminding you that he’d be gone again in two or three days to return to Blue Lock. You were tired of it. It wasn’t even a relationship at this point.

"I’m not a toy you can play with for some time and then abandon like it’s nothing. My patience is not infinite."

"I never said that. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss, and I wasn’t enough thoughtful to realize about the consequences of my actions. I just hope you can forgive me for it."

You pushed his wrists away from your face, glaring at him coldly, not wanting to cry for him. You took your bag and walked past him successfully this time, opening the door without giving him a single glance; just stopping in your tracks as you reached the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Isagi. I hope you’ll become the player you desired to be for so long."

You were his motivation, the person he wanted to make proud, the person he wanted to impress when showing his new capacities and his strength. The person he wanted to come home to, everyday, as lovesick as the day before. But now, the tears were flowing silently on his cheeks, as he couldn’t process what he saw. You, closing the door behind yourself, leaving him without any chance of coming back. Because you sincerely realize how much you love someone when you actually lose them.

↳ You tried to push him away, in a faint attempt to show how much you hated him right now. But he just stared at you, his gaze never fading, and he tilted your chin up with his hand. The other went straight to your waist, pressing you against him. Your eyes and his met; and you swore you’ve never saw a fonder look in your entire life. Orbs filled with pure love and softness, enamoured unpronounceable words, a silent plea begging your forgiveness. He leaned and kissed you gently, carefully. When he finally broke the kiss, he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, pressing multiple kisses on the back of your hand without breaking the eye contact you both were sharing.

"You deserve someone better, honey. And I want- no, I will become this someone, that will love you properly. I promise you this - and if I break this promise, I swear, you can kill me however you like, it’s up to you."

You bit back a chuckle, amused by his words; but on the depths of your heart, you were fully aware that he was genuine.

"I’ll never disappoint you again. You’re the love of my life, I couldn’t handle loosing you. I’m sorry for what I did, again. I’m an asshole. Really."

He kissed your forehead with so much tenderness, a tenderness you missed during his long absence. He peppered kisses on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you were going to slip away from him. He whispered something else, not daring to break the eye-contact,

"I’d rather watch the whole world burn and experience an endless suffering that having you leaving me for good."

NAGI SEISHIRO tried everything. After multiple unanswered calls and messages left on “seen”, he noticed that you’ve blocked him. He sighed, staring at his ceiling. Was it the end ? He tried to forget you, he really did. He tried to convince himself that you weren’t this important. He tried to wake-up each morning without searching for you underneath the sheets, only to find a cold bed next to him. Occupying his thoughts with games, movies, series, even soccer, wasn’t enough anymore. He needed you in his arms, and he was willing to do every single thing imaginable to get you back.

You were at one of your friend’s apartment, enjoying some time with her watching your favorite series. She left the couch to get you a drink, mumbling a quick "pause the episode, I don’t wanna miss it" before hurrying to the kitchen. You smiled, and did as she asked; until you heard a knock on the door. You frowned.

"You ordered take-out ?", you called your friend from the couch, questionably.

"Nah, I didn’t. Told you we were going to one of my friends’ restaurant this evening."

She came back from the kitchen, two glasses filled in her hands, her brows furrowed. She put them on the table, glancing at the door.

"Who is it then ?"

"Don’t know. Wait, be right back.", she quickly turned around, walking towards the door, and opening it slightly. Her face went blank in approximately 2 seconds, and she gulped.

"Um.. Well, that’s awkward."

You couldn’t hear correctly what your friend said to the stranger; you could only hear a low voice, that sounded awfully familiar. So, you decided to get up, trying to get a peek of the tall figure standing in the corridor.

Your eyes widened.

The series was long forgotten on the screen, the voices echoing between the walls, as you stared, dumbfounded, at him.

Seishiro.

Your friend shifted uncomfortably, deciding to leave you both alone for some privacy as she promptly went to her room. You didn’t know what to say. What to think. But the dark bags under his eyes, that looked stern and empty, his hair even more messy than before, gave you relatively an idea of how the two passed weeks had been for him.

"What are you even doing here, Nagi ?"

Ouch. The use of his name instead of his first name was abysmal; but a relieved sigh escaped from his lips. Finally. Your voice. It sounded so much better than your voicemail, that he had listened every night after you left him in your shared apartment.

"I’m sorry. I- I’m really, fucking sorry for what I did. I miss you, Y/N. I can’t-"

"Nagi, stop. I can’t do this right now."

You cut him instantly, trying to close the door. Well, trying, because he refrained you from doing so, laying his whole strength on the door to keep you from leaving him again.

"Please, Y/N, at least, hear me out."

His voice was pleading, begging even; as much as your heart broke with his wobbly words, you didn’t know what to think, what to say. You bit your inside cheek, wondering what to do, now that he was so close to you, after all this time.

NAGI SEISHIRO looked at you dead in the eye, his own blackish orbs watering at the sight of your frame standing in front of him. His hand wandered to your cheek, his fingertips almost grazing your smooth skin that he missed so bad, as if you were made of real porcelain. Porcelain that he’d break with only one feather touch. So he held back.

"I missed you so much," his voice broke, approaching you hesitantly. "So fucking much. I’m sorry for neglecting you and taking you for granted all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you deserved, the attention you needed. I need you to come back to me. I can’t live without you, baby."

Forgiving him was a tough choice. Your heart was aching at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. You’ve never seen Nagi cry before, at least, not cries of pain. But he hurt you, he really did. These two weeks were just obnoxious to him, but they were worse to you. Seeing his texts, his calls, deciding to block him anyway - it was laborious, to say the least, because your feelings for him were still there, haunting your mind constantly, day and night.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ How could you just forgive him like that ? After all he did ? Sure, you meant a lot to him, but did you mean more than anything else ? You were always second, never the first, and it became clearer each day that passed that you weren’t as important as you thought you would be for him. He didn’t even made time for you in his oh-so-important schedule, focusing on soccer and his fucking games, hanging out with his friends who knows where, instead of you. He chose it. It wasn’t random. You weren’t his priority at all. Sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the door with this constant lovesick gaze, waiting for him to return to finally go on your well promised date. But he never returned. And you weren’t going to return either. It was enough.

"You know what ? You were the first thing in my mind, everyday. You always have been the first person I was thinking of in whatever situation I was in. The only voice I wanted to hear, the only person I wanted to see, the only gaze I wanted to get lost in - now don’t tell me you feel the same."

"I do-", but you immediately cut him off, anger taking the best of you.

"You’re a freaking liar. What’s the next step, uh ? You’re going to promise me you’ve changed ? You think I’m stupid or something ? I’m not naive, Nagi, I’ve never been your priority and I’ll never be."

"You don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve been busy, you’re right, but give me a second chance. I promi- I’ll not make the same mistake again, that’s for sure. I realized that you were extremely important to me, more important that I’d like to admit actually, I can’t bear seeing you without me at your side, it just hurts too much. I’m just asking for a second chance."

"As much as it hurts to say, it’s over. I’m not going to give you a second chance when I knew damn well that it’ll not change anything. If you needed time to process your love for me, I’m definitely going to give you time to process it even more."

His eyes widened when he saw you slowly closing the door, in a faint attempt of ending the discussion.

"No, wait, I beg-"

"Move on. It won’t be so difficult anyway, spend some time with your friends and your games, you’ll soon forget about me."

He was now staring at the wooden door of the apartment, tears streaming down his features. He lost you for good this time. And he finally understood how it felt to receive the same treatment that he gave you; to be abandoned by your lover when you needed them the most.

↳ Seeing him in tears didn’t really help your case. Your heart burnt, and you soon felt yourself tearing up, your vision blurred. You let out a broken sob, to which he responded with a call of your name - desperate, probably as broken as your cries - and he embraced you tightly, his nose nuzzling on your neck, sighing when he finally touched you, melting in the loveable hold he wished to feel again. He kept repeating the same apologies, the same confessions of love, hoping it’d soothe your tears.

"I don’t want to hurt you ever again," he mumbled, stroking the back of your hair gently, "I’ll never hurt you ever again.", he assured with a shaky voice.

He kissed your temple softly, still holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"It’ll be the last time I’ll ever put something above you. You’re the most important thing to me - I can’t live without your presence near me all the time. I’m sorry I just realized that I needed to tell you this now. I should’ve known you deserved to hear it properly,"

"You’ll be my highest priority from now on, as it should’ve been from the very beginning, angel."

BACHIRA MEGURU was anxious. At first, he decided to give you space. He hated arguments with you, always trying to avoid them, and he thought that distancing himself might help the situation. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Sweaty palms grabbing his phone, and immediately turning it off, utterly incompetent. He didn’t want to argue, to entertain a conflict with you; he prefered your smiles and your soft giggles in tickle fights. He missed them. The sound of your hard laughs, the look of your teasing grins. However, he couldn’t bring himself to text you, nor to call you, afraid that you’d pronounce a dry "it’s over". He couldn’t handle the pain, and avoiding it wasn’t the best idea to fix the issue. Meanwhile, it had been 3 weeks, you were now nearly convinced that your relationship with him had come to an end. No texts, no calls, no attempts to see you, you founded it weird, but you didn’t question it. It worried you a bit, yeah, but you weren’t going to chase after him if he didn’t want to talk about it. You were more hurt than worried; after all your moments together, the shared memories and the heavy feelings, he just moved on this easily ? Even though it was totally his fault ? You just scoffed when your friends asked about him, hiding your devasted state behind a mocking tone, saying it was probably over now. You waited for a message all the time, staring at the screen, angry fat tears rolling down your cheeks in frustration. What an asshole.

"You never texted them ? Bachira, are you crazy ?"

Isagi exclaimed, in utter shock. They were in his bedroom, Isagi was sitting on his bed, unable to process what Bachira just told him. The usually joyful man paced around, his face in his hands.

"I- I didn’t know what to say ! I fucked up really bad this time, I was scared of losing them."

"Man, you definitely lost them now. It’s been 3 weeks, you should’ve said something earlier !", Isagi replied, nearly strangling himself in desbelief.

"I know. What should I do ?"

"Bachira..", he sighed, biting his lip in despair, "it’s probably too late now. They’re most likely thinking that you don’t love them anymore or that you moved on."

"But I didn’t ?", Bachira whined when Isagi stood up and smacked his head, annoyed. Isagi mumbled something inaudible, probably about his naivety or his stupidness, again.

"But that’s what it looks like, bro. You stood them up, and they got no news from you, don’t be stupid. Everyone would think the same thing."

Bachira gulped. He was right. And without hesitation, he ran away from his home, heading towards your place, in hope you would accept his apologies. He never sprinted this fast in his entire life, his muscles burning, his ankles aching from the impact of his feet against the stiff concrete of the streets he was running in. The road seemed even longer than usual, and when he finally arrived on your doorstep, he was panting, his hands shaking as he hesitantly knocked. He felt nauseous. Emotions overwhelmed him when he finally saw your form opening the door with a worried look.

"Meguru ? What are you even doing here ?"

He immediately took you in his arms, his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing-in your comfortable scent, relieved. You yelped in surprise, not reciprocating the hug.

"I missed you so much."

He muttered, still trying to catch his breath. You frowned, surprised by his presence.

"It had been 3 weeks, Meguru. It’s a bit late to come here."

"I know. I should’ve come earlier. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please, forgive me ? I promise I won’t do it again !"

BACHIRA MEGURU didn’t want to let go of you, choosing to hold you even tighter, letting his tears soak your shirt. He couldn’t care less about crashing your bones with just arms; if it was possible, he’d live in your skin. That seemed creepy, to say the least, but he enjoyed over-proximity with you, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ After 3 weeks, seriously ? You pushed him off of you, clearly not amused by his whines. You just felt anger, disappointment, embarrassment.

"Meguru, you left me alone for 3 weeks straight, and now you’re coming unannounced as if it was actually common ?"

"You don’t understand, Y/N !! I was too anxious of your reaction after our argument. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt, I didn’t know how to apologize properly.."

"No, you don’t understand. You really think that ghosting and ignoring people as if they never existed was a solution ? I should be the one to do that, not you. You’re always avoiding conflict and I’m so sick of it."

"I know-"

"No, you don’t !", you sneered, taking a long breath to soothe your nerves, "You never did. You haven’t remembered our anniversary - and it’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten along the way. You never took our conversations seriously, you never put any attention in our memories and our celebrations for them. I don’t want to be with someone who’s not even capable of being mindful of our important moments together and of our special dates. If it’s not important to you, alas, it is for me. I won’t give up another thing, especially if it’s something that is dear to me."

"It’s important for me, I swear. I just don’t know how to show it correctly."

"Then learn. But you can count me out."

You opened the door, leaving a broken Bachira behind, reaching after you. But you turned to stop him, giving him a quick nod, a silent no. The weak smile on your face shushed the golden-eyed boy. And he understood.

"I wish you the best, Meguru."

↳ You bit your inside cheek. Always giving promises he couldn’t keep, with a beam and butterfly kisses. And as much as you loved him, you didn’t know if you could tolerate it again, if your heart could handle another betrayal.

"You’re always promising the same things, but you’re never actually changing.", you argued.

"I can. I know I disappointed you, and you have every right to be upset. I’m trying my best, learning to manage my feelings and my habits is hard and tough, but I’ll do it for you. I’m really trying, Y/N,", he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I’m not used to this. It’s- you’re my first love, and I really hope you’ll be my last. I don’t have any experience in terms of relationships. If dates are important to you, I’ll make all the efforts in the world to make them special and memorable. I want to grow old with you, so please, give me one last chance to prove you that I’m worth it."

You hesitated for some seconds. He wasn’t the type to lie, and right now, he sounded strangely serious. It felt out-of-character, but you needed it to actually make up a decision.

"Fine. But it’s your last chance.", you finally whispered,

"Yes ma’am. Trust me on this one, I’ll make you proud of my work."

He sighed, relieved, immediately peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away.

"Gosh, I missed this sound. Oh- and I’m taking you on a date after; that’s the least I can do. I love you to the moon and to saturn, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

[gotta-pet-em-all]

shitty parents poll time

[cackled0g]

Assorted headcanons about the L4D2 Survivors

Nick

-Heavy smoker, used to be a heavy drinker but I think by the point the apocalypse happens he's eased back on the drinking.

-Aside from being skilled at gambling and conning people, I think he's also got a talent for sleight-of-hand tricks and picking pockets. He knows a few basic card tricks too, though he never really gets a chance to show them off.

-Had a really rough childhood. Think both of his parents were junkies who spent most of their time ignoring him. He left home young and never looked back.

-This man was definitely raised Catholic

Rochelle

-Used to smoke, quit at some point. The apocalypse is bad for sobriety, so I feel like she occasionally shares a smoke with Nick.

-Had a large family in which she was a middle child. Spent most of her childhood being looked over in favor of her siblings. Put herself through college and worked up to being a producer for the news through sheer hard work and dedication.

-Has a bad habit of dating shitty men. She likes bad boys but tends to get attached to toxic personalities.

-Definitely the most intelligent of the L4D2 survivors.

Coach

-Never smokes or drinks--his vice is fast food.

-Was a popular football star for his school with ambitions of going pro. Had a knee injury late in his last season of high school football that ruined all of that. He became a Coach partially because of his love for the game and partially because he wanted to do a better job of protecting his students than his teachers did for him.

-Had a nice suburban childhood with loving parents. He's intensely worried about how they're faring in the apocalypse.

-Deeply cares about everyone, but especially kids. He knew all of the students at his school by name and always made a habit of being nice to those who looked like they needed it. I imagine he's seen several of them dead by now.

Ellis

-Tobacco fiend but not a smoker, this is a man who dips if I've ever seen one.

-Absent father, doting single mother. Never had any siblings but Keith was over enough to basically be raised alongside him. He never had to worry about his mother's affection for him; she clearly thinks he hung the moon.

-Very aware that he annoys people at times but unsure of how to stop doing it. Blames himself for his father leaving.

-ADHD and dyslexic. Did poorly in school but thrives in an environment where he can work with his hands and have verbal instructions. Math was his best core subject, and he excelled at ag and shop class.

-A Southern Baptist by blood, but I don't think he's ever given his personal religious beliefs much thought.

-Bisexual!

[thatawkwardmoth]

Emma and Scott both having shitty parents (not Katherine Summers, I'm never talking shit about her) is just another reason they make a good couple.

Let me explain:

Scott is raised military before he's even a soldier for Xavier. It's little things that show it but, as someone who's dad was raised by a military man, sometimes it's hard for parents to leave the army for Base only. Scott, in the meager amount of scenes we get of his childhood, has almost the same mindest of Dean Winchester in a way. His father gives an order, he might protest but eventually, he always complies. Number one example being the plane crash and the one parachute thing. But also that he spends so much time worrying over Alex. Even after being forced to forget about him, he still remembers parts of him. And yes, it is because that's his little brother and he loves him so much. But it could also be because the phrases: 'look out for your brother', 'Keep your brother safe', 'Watch out for Alex', have been said to him since the day he met Alex in the hospital, newborn and fragile enough that Scott, even at two years old, knew not to be rough.

And it doesn't change, even on the Krakoa arc, he is angry over Alex being placed on Sinister's team. (And sinister referring to the brothers as 'his boys' gives me the ick. They Not Like Us vibes from his character in general when it comes to the Summers brothers…) He can't take care of Alex, make sure he's safe and sound, if he's on the same team as the guy who experimented on a preteen Scott for funsies and genetic testing.

Now, Katherine Summers, we don't have a lot of comics with her. But she's shown as the perfect mother figure, raising two rowdy boys mostly on her own with how busy Christopher is. And Scott and Alex remember her fondly. So no fault to her. But Christopher fucking Summers, every fault to him.

I'm not demonizing him, I need that known. I'm not saying that he's the next John Winchester (because at least he came back to check on his kids, unlike Corsair), I'm just saying that he raised Scott to be the perfect solider for Xavier and the perfect experiment for Sinister. Because he followed orders and he didn't argue back to adults (eventually he did, but you get the point).

Scott has so much unpacked trauma from his childhood and that small series where deplaced Scott is with Corsair doesn't really cover any of it. Neither do modern comics.

Emma, on the other hand, was raised in high society. Has always known the rich life and the challenges and difficulties that come with it. Mainly, her father's goals for her and her mother's long broken soul.

She grew up trying to be the perfect daughter despite being the black sheep. She couldn't meet his goals and faced his wrath for having dreams about being a teacher. His rage followed her into training the Hellions and it led to their deaths.

Now, it's not just her father's temper that is the reason she's got shitty parents. He's a cheater, a manipulator and discards his children like broken toys when they don't follow his strict guidelines of life, ex. Chrisitan being a drug addict, the older sister doing modeling, his younger being more goth and alternative for 'attention' as Emma puts it. Leaving him to pick Emma to continue his company because she's like him, a fact he learns after she blackmails and exposes his affair to his wife. He's willing to let Emma be given a pass on things purely because of his money and only stops her from hooking up with her teacher because it's not who he wants her with. No mind to the fact that he's an adult and she was a child. I hate the teacher thing. Can we tell?

He's a shit father but Hazel Frost is not exempt from my shit talking. She is not Katherine Summers. She's absent most of the time. Being the perfect socialite wife. She doesn't have a life outside of her husband's money and the parties she throws (more garden parties, not Tony Stark rager parties). She cares about her children, yes. But the tiniest amount. She can't bring herself to be there for them when they're going through difficult times. She's been broken by the expectations on her, to be the traditional wife, that she can't be bothered when the affair is revealed to her. It's heartbreaking and it makes me sad but it doesn't excuse the way she ignored her son's drug habit or her daughter's crisis with new powers and bullies at school.

Now Jean Grey has shitty parents but only after she is revealed to be a mutant to them. They sent her to Xavier's school to help her through the grief of her friend's accident and the issues she'd been having recently, not because anyone told them about her mutation. Now them rejecting her did hurt and they played a giant part in her turning into Dark Phoniex. But that happened when she was an adult. For her formative years as a child, they were present and lovely. Even as a teenager, it's shown that she calls them and writes letters and visits them on holidays. So, as much as I am a Jott and Scemma shipper alike, she can't relate to Scott's trauma and parent issues until she herself is burned and abandoned by her own. Emma, on the hand, can. She's had a shitty dad and Scott's had two and one creep that is obessed with him. She's had to mature faster because of her father not paying her ransom and making her rescue herself and decide to run away. Scott can relate to her running away, seeing as it is his favorite thing to do. Ex, the orphanage, Xavier's, Alaska, so on and so on.

Emma has even lost loves before! She was geuinely in love with the guy waiter from the comic series about her life. Was distraught when he died. She's been scorned by lovers before as well. Her teacher that she had a crush on and sabatoged a few friendships in college for (stupid plotline. stupid. stupid.) eventually reveals that he hates mutants and sees them as freaks, making Emma leave him and never look back (finally, my girl was free).

Jean hasn't. She's never lost Scott except when he cheated. She's never had to grieve him or bury him as many times as he has had to for her. Even Madelyne, who scorned Scott for reasons purely blamed on the absolute worst comic book misunderstanding and miscommunication ever, has never related to Scott on those levels. Emma has buried him and been scorned by him and still loves him, is the one he trusts with his resurrections in the Arbor Magna. It really speaks volumes.

And I'm not pitting the two ships against each other. I'm not. I'm pointing out the differences in the way they can relate to each others' pasts.

[lorryicious]

First off, all your Bill art is making me go INSANE omg it’s all so GOOD!!!! Secondly………the parallels……..of Bill having a shitty dad……..and Ford having a shitty dad………..oouuggg GOD!!!!!!

OH MY GOD YES. I took SO many parallels from the stans parents because I THINK ITS SO SILLY. Bill resonating with having a shitty dad makes me AUGH. I mean, I feel like there's totally an intentional reason why Bills dad is BARELY mentioned at all. The only quotes in code are from HIS MOM. His dad was disappointed in Bill initially, while his mom ALWAYS had faith in him until the very end. I think out of all of Euclydia, Bill's mom was one of the few beings to play along with Bill's visions of the stars because SHE LOVED HIM. AND SHES A SUPPORTIVE PARENT. But I also think she couldn't speak her mind even to his father. So when Bill is rattled with visions of things that can't be mentioned, She listens to Euclid's (Bill's dad) advice to him medicine for it. She just wanted a happy family :(

BILLS DAD. EUCLID. I have SO many thoughts on this guy. SO MUCH LIKE FILBRICK. EXCEPT HE HAS NO FAVORITES. An absent father who lies to keep his image intact. Anger issues (Bill had to get them somewhere) while Scalene (Bill's mom) is INCREDIBLY patient with him. She shouldn't be. Bill KNOWS Euclid is a lousy and cruel parent, but he wants to prove to his dad he can be something. He wants to make both of them proud, :( Despite not liking his dad.

Stanford telling Bill about his parents and Bill is just like :D "I have NO idea what that would be like!!" (relating HEAVILY)

I totally think that is another reason why Bill HATES Stan SO MUCH. Stan is SO MUCH LIKE HIM. Similar childhood, similar future. The difference is Stan got to regain his life and family. Stan FACED the past. Bill didn't. Stan lied for years and years and came clean. Bill couldn't achieve what Stan did, and Bill resents Stan for it. This is just my theory on it. But their parallels make me INSANE. They are so similar as characters, especially in their life events, and they are foils of each other in canon. (at least I think that)

[countryclubkook]

Him or Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, topper being a slight asshole, small mention of parent death and absent parent, not proof read so potential grammatical errors, slightly ooc/fanon Rafe I think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anymore I should add

Summary: when Topper finds out his best friend Rafe is secretly dating his sister behind his back, all hell breaks loose. Will they be able fix their relationship? Or will the betrayal be too much to recover from?

A/N: This is the first story i’ve written in months so i’m still a little rusty. I wanted to get something out though to get back into the groove of things. Italicized means flashback, this also is meant to take place in season 1 after Sarah and John B are together so I hope you all enjoy🤍 I left the ending of this slightly open for a potential part two if people want it/I decide to write one (Topper is 19 and reader is 18 for the sake of this story, Rafe is his canon age in the show)

“You know I’ll take care of you right?” he spoke with such certainty. How could you not believe him?

It was never supposed to be this way, you and your brother's best friend being together, but when he gave you those bedroom eyes and whispered those sweet nothings in your ear how could you resist? The both of you kept it a secret from Topper as long as you could knowing his overprotective nature when it came to you. He had found out when he saw the two of you kissing at the country club, that was a bad night for the three of you.

“My fucking sister dude? Are you kidding me? You could have any girl on this island but you go after my sister?” the vein on his neck popping out as he screamed at Rafe. Neither of you had expected him to be home, let alone for him to be waiting in the living room for you two to come back. As soon as Rafe stepped into the door he was thrown against the wall by his neck, a very angry Topper staring at him with pure hatred.

“Topper stop, let him go. Please.” you pleaded with him but it was no use, his grip stayed the same and he acted as if you weren't there. They were in their own world at that moment.

“Fucking relax man, I chose her for a reason. I love her, and you're not going to stop me from seeing her. So if you're going to hit me and tell me to stay away from her, do it so we can get this over with.” he was visibly annoyed by this as his tone confirmed it. Sure they were friends, but you meant more to Rafe than anyone else so your big brother trying to prevent your relationship was simply just an inconvenience that had no real effect at all.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, nostrils flaring and veins so visible you were getting concerned about their health. It wasn't until Topper let go of Rafe with a small scoff that you felt you could breathe again. You've never felt more shitty in your whole life than you did when Topper looked at you with such betrayal and hurt. He just shook his head and stormed out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't know he would be here” you say as you rush over to him and examine his neck that was now red (and would inevitably bruise) from the grip Topper had on it. He watched as you examined him with such worry and such a gentle touch that it reminded him yet again why he was with you, that you were worth whatever argument ensued because you showed him love nobody else would.

“Baby, I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you being okay than my neck.” grabbing the sides of your face and forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glossy with tears and your breathing slightly uneven. Your relationship with Topper was different than the one Rafe had with his sisters, it had always just been the two of you since you were growing up. Your dad had died when you were babies and your mom was a piece of shit who was never around so that left the two of you to protect and raise each other. Hurting him felt like the biggest stab in the chest and you felt terrible.

“I-” your sobs overpowered your voice before you could finish as you broke down in your lover's arms. His shushed comfort helped bring you some peace but not nearly enough to stop the feeling in your chest from growing. He had moved you over to the couch and held you in his lap until your cries eventually stopped and your breathing remained calm.

“Baby?” he asked quietly in case you had fallen asleep. When he got no response, he gently laid you on the couch and covered you with a blanket before kissing your cheek and heading out to find your brother. Rafe was probably the last person he wanted to see but he would try to talk to him for you.

That “talk” didn't go very well. You didn't know what was said, all you know is that Topper came home bloodied and bruised and didn't say a word to you. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together when you saw Rafes bruised knuckles the next day and his excuse was that he “wanted to try boxing without his gloves”. But a few weeks had passed since then and you thought it would be fine, you and Top would go back to normal and eventually he and Rafe would reconcile like nothing ever happened. If only it was that easy.

Topper had grown increasingly hostile toward you when he decided to acknowledge your existence. His responses were always short and snappy like you were the most horrible person to be speaking with. You knew the only way of fixing this was breaking up with Rafe but there was no way in hell you were doing that so you instead just tried to give him space when you could. But one day he decided that ignoring each other wasn't enough, he needed you to know your options.

‘We need to talk’ one text that always has the ability to make your heart race. You stare at it for 10 minutes trying to figure out the right response before you type back a simple ‘Okay’, his next text telling you he’d meet you at the house in ten minutes. You felt like throwing up and your anxiety was through the roof. You knew what he wanted to talk about, that's what made you nervous. It felt like hours had passed when you finally heard the front door open and heavy footsteps approach the kitchen. Your heartbeat had become very quick when he came into your peripheral vision.

“Hi” a simple word used to greet people now had a more hostile meaning behind it. You finally looked up to see him but he was already looking at you. He still had that same look in his eyes he had that day. Betrayal, disgust, anger, every emotion you had hoped you'd never see him have towards you.

“Hi” your voice much smaller as you tried to avoid his hard gaze. An awkward silence passed for a few moments before he finally spoke again. There was clearly no small talk to be made so it was now or never.

“I'm giving you two options, and I never thought I'd have to say this to you of all people but I guess you really can't trust everyone. I understand you think you love Rafe and that he loves you, but you don't know him like me. Rafe Cameron doesn't ever love someone, he uses them to his advantage until he no longer needs them around and then he leaves them in the dirt. I'm not staying around to watch that happen to you so it's him or me.” his voice was stern, there was no hesitation in his words. He meant every last thing he had just told you.

You stared at him for a moment trying to process what you just heard, did he really just give you an ultimatum? You half expected him to laugh and tell you he was just fucking with you, that he was still upset you hadn't told him but as long as you were happy so was he, but that moment never came. Instead, he continued to stare at you with a pierced gaze waiting for your response.

“Are you serious right now Top?” you chuckled in disbelief. There was no way this was happening right now.

“As serious as a heart attack” no hint of amusement in his voice. Your emotion quickly changed from guilt to anger as his words finally registered.

“You have no right to do that. None. Rafe and I do love each other, we don't think that. You don't know our relationship and this was exactly why we didn't want you finding out. I'm not a baby anymore Topper. I'm a big girl and I can make my own decisions about things, including who I date. If that backfires that's on me and I learn from it. You don't get to decide that for me.” your face had turned red and you felt hot. How dare he make you choose between them.

“Y/N you don't understand okay? I know how he works, I've seen it happen. He's only going to hurt you when-” he tried to argue but you cut him off.

“No. You don't understand. He treats me better than anyone else ever has, he makes me feel loved. You don't know anything about love, that's why your girlfriend cheated on you with a fucking pogue.” his face fell at the comment. You knew it was harsh and uncalled for but you were too upset to care.

“Fuck you Y/N. I'm giving you one last chance to make the right choice” you knew he meant that.

“Fine. You want me to choose so badly? I choose him, I'll always choose him.” your breathing was heavy as you yelled at him. There was no taking it back now so you could only hope it didn't end badly for you.

“Okay” he scoffed “just don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. You mean nothing to me anymore” he spoke with such disgust that it took everything in you not to cry.

“I won't. He's never going to do that to me” you spoke to him with the same voice he had spoken to you. The two of you staring at each other with anger and a look of disbelief that this had happened to you. Topper gave one last shake of his head before going up the stairs to what you thought was his room. It wasn't until you heard a loud thud a few minutes later that you realized he was in yours.

One by one, bags and boxes of your things came flying down the stairs. Topper was standing at the top with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

“You want to be with him so bad you can go stay with him. I don't want a lying whore living with me.” his words hurt you more than would ever admit but you swallowed your tears and began packing your car with your things, getting in and starting the car to drive to Rafes once the last thing was thrown in.

He hadn't expected to see your text but all he could do was worry when you’d told him you were on your way to him. The only thing comforting him was pacing around the room and thinking of all the ways he could try and help you. He heard your call pull up and almost broke the door getting to you and his heart shattered when he saw you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes red and puffy, you looked destroyed.

As soon as you were in his arms you broke down, the both of you falling to the ground as your sobs echoed in the warm air. The familiar smell of Rafe's cologne made you feel safe, a feeling you hadn't fully felt since Rafe and Topper's fight. It felt like you were finally home and could relax, the war was over and you could just live again.

“Shh baby it's okay, you're safe now. I've got you” he said as he rested his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. There wasn't much that could be said to help you feel better about the situation but knowing you weren't alone did help to make you feel good. Topper was just jealous he didn't have this type of love with Sarah.

You'd finally calmed down enough to unload your things into Rafe's room. Ward adored you so letting you stay with them was absolutely no issue which you were so thankful for.

Hours had passed and your tears had long stopped. You had taken a nice long shower and now you were in bed with Rafe, it felt natural to you. He gave you a small nudge to get your attention and your eyes met his. He had a slight smirk on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face” your eyes widening slightly worried you had forgotten to wipe some makeup off your face.

“No no it's not that, it's just… I could get used to this you know? It feels right” his voice was much softer now.

“It does, doesn't it? Maybe this whole situation isn't so bad after all” it was very bad, but maybe you could convince yourself otherwise if you said it enough.

Rafe could see you thinking about the situation again despite what you'd just said so he grabbed your face to hold it in place. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“You know I'll take care of you right?” and you had no doubt he would, fuck Topper. You just needed Rafe. He would never betray you like Topper, he would never hurt you the way your brother did. He loved you.

“I know” you smiled sweetly at him before giving him a soft kiss, both of you enjoying the moment of peace before pulling away to turn the lights off. Sleep slowly engulfing you as you relaxed into the others touch. This is how it was meant to be.

If only you knew exactly what getting involved with Rafe Cameron would turn into.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Chapter 1: Percy becomes supreme lord of the Bathroom

First official chapter for 'In his own twisted way', my daughter of ares fic! <3

Word count: 8800 ish words

Warnings: none I can think of (english is not my first language, though, don't kill me if there are any mistakes please)

Updates will be tuesdays! <3

Fic masterlist here!

Olympians. The Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece, powerful, strong, eternal, immortals, seen as myths and stories told throughout the centuries. However, they are no myths, but real, and they still exist to the date. Omnipotent. Immortal. Unreachable.

Or, maybe not so out of reach: they’ve watched generations of mortals roaming the earth, and they often walk among them, disguised as one of them. But still, gods and goddesses, strong and powerful, and a different race from the common humans. They have lived thousands of lives, interfering at will in mortal affairs, seeing the world as their battlefield, and the people living there as their pawns. Because the gods can’t break the holy rules, but mortals… that’s a loophole many, if not all of the gods and goddesses have used in their favour throughout history. And because they needed powerful weapons as their pawns to execute their demands, they created half-bloods. Demigods. Mortal descendants born out of their union with a mortal companion, capable of fighting in the divine realm of existence, while living in the mortal world.

And so, over the years, decades, and centuries, demigods were born into the mortal world, some even reaching Olympus, the glory, kleos, and becoming part of the mystery that surrounds the story of the gods.

Myths aside, half-bloods still exist. Half mortal, half god, all real. And even if it sounds like a privilege to be a part of the gods bloodline… well, not many demigods will agree with that. Not only because they are in constant danger, it’s scary, and most of the times it only got them killed in very nasty ways, but also because they didn’t really fit into the human world, and they had to live up to their parents expectations, all the time. To make them proud, to honour them, and to show off their power.

And all of that is pretty difficult to do when the gods turn out to be shitty parents who don’t really deserve all that self-sacrifice.

Emily wasn’t indifferent to all of that.

As one of camps’ longest all year-rounders, she was well versed in the art of being the child of an absent godly parent. She trained, she learned, and she fought for glory, yes, but most importantly, to be worthy of her father’s attention and love. At twelve years old, she was one of the best fighters of her cabin: the children of Ares. Only her older sister, Clarisse, reached her level of skill; they fought on many occasions, both in the arena and outside of it, always to prove that they were better than the other one.

But Emily didn’t really care about being better than Clarisse, not really. She only trained, and fought and worked so hard to be the top warrior of her cabin, if not camp, to make her father proud. And she hoped that, if she would actually make him proud, she would finally see him again.

Not that she hadn’t seen him since he had left her at camp half-blood, no. Every winter, during the winter solstice ceremony, she encountered him. But he kept to himself, every single time for the last years. He didn’t acknowledge her or any of her siblings, and when the presentations were over, he always ran out of the room before she or her brothers or sisters could try to talk to him.

That’s why she had hope that if she stood out, maybe he would love her again like he did in the past.

“Are you listening to me, or are you daydreaming again?”

Emily turned her gaze to her left, where Annabeth was looking over at her questioningly. They were laying on the grass in a clearing of the forest, the afternoon light giving a golden glow to the top of the trees surrounding them. They were done with training for that day, having had a friendly competition about who of them both would hit more bullseyes at archery practice; Emily won, like she usually did, although Annabeth was also very skilled – Ares’ kids usually had a better aim for throwing weapons, or something like that. It’s what Annabeth always said when Emily ended up with a higher score than her.

“I am listening to you” Emily shifted her gaze back up to the sky, watching a round and fluffy cloud fly by “But I was also thinking about dinner. I can do both”

“Sure. So what was I talking about?”

“Something boring about an architect you read a book about”

“That was five minutes ago!” Annabeth laughed, shaking her head “And it’s not boring”

“Why do you think I started daydreaming? To not fall asleep!”

“You’re incorrigible” she huffed, although she was also smiling slightly.

“But I’m still your best friend, so I must be doing something right”

“I guess” Annabeth shrugged, sticking her tongue out to Emily. They both giggled “I was talking about capture the flag”

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous” Emily scoffed, looking at her “You’ve won three times in a row. You’ll manage a fourth”

“No one has won four consecutive rounds in a very long time. Everyone is waiting to watch me fail”

“That’s not true. I want to see you succeed”

“Shouldn’t you be on your teams side?” she raised one of her eyebrows, sarcastically. Annabeth fought with the rest of the Athena cabin, and Emily with the Ares cabin. The other cabins allied to one or another of them, but the main rivals in battle where always Ares and Athena – seemed logic, considering they were both deities of war “Don’t tell me you’ll just give me your flag. I don’t want an easy win”

“Of course I won’t do that. I will fight, tooth and claw, to get my victory. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t be happy if you win. You deserve it”

“Thanks, Emi”

“You welcome, Annie”

“Now… as I was saying a few minutes ago-“ she started talking about the architect again, and Emily groaned, sitting up “Hey, I’m trying to educate you. Better listen”

She wasn’t going to do that, not today. Fortunately, she found her escape: Luke was approaching the clearing where they lay, and he waved at her when he spotted Emily watching him.

He had arrived at camp with Annabeth five years ago, when Emily was seven. He was older than the girls, and he was like an older brother for the both of them; sure, they had their respective siblings at each of their cabins (Ares’, Athena’s and Hermes’), but the bond these three shared was genuine, and went beyond their heritage.

“It’s almost time for dinner!” he called out, a few steps away “Come on!”

They rose up, and met Luke halfway there. All three of them wore camps’ official orange t-shirt, like everyone else, and their summer camp necklace’s rested above the fabric, with the beads they earned at the end of each summer adding various pops of colour. However, they didn’t have identical pendants: Luke had five beads, like Annabeth, but she also had added her father’s college ring to the necklace after he sent it to her. Emily’s had not five, but six beads, and also a silver ring.

Ares had given it to her… a long time ago. When things had still been better between them.

“How’s my favourite duo doing?” although the three of them usually hang out together, there was always a duo in a trio “Heard you had fun at archery”

“I did. Annabeth not so much” Emily grinned at her friend, who rolled her eyes “Hey, let me have my win. If I competed against anyone from cabin seven I wouldn’t stand a chance”

They greeted some satyrs on their way to the dining area, and then separated to their respective tables: there were strict rules against sitting at another god’s table, so they were forced to eat with their siblings. Emily had a good relationship with most of her brothers and sisters, at least a cordial one; none of them were as close to her as Annabeth or Luke were, but they got along nicely. Then there were others, those of her siblings who stood more to Clarisse, her rival, who weren’t as nice to Emily. She wasn’t naturally prone to being mean to anyone, even if they weren’t friendly towards her, but after years of constant disrespect, Emily had had enough, and they knew that she could set her foot down if they caused her too much trouble.

Dinner went as usual, with camp being full of demigods, so the pavilion was bustling with voices and conversations, even if there were tables unoccupied, like the one’s for the children of the big three (who weren’t allowed to have children anymore, as they were too powerful), or the one dedicated to Artemis (which was only used by the goddess’ hunters if they ever visited camp… which usually never happened).

Chiron was also back at camp after being absent for some weeks at the end of the school year; Annabeth and Emily had been theorizing about the reasons for his departure, as he had never left camp for so long in the years they had been there.

“Do you think some demigod got into trouble on a quest and he has went out to help?”

“Well, maybe… but it has to be something important if Chiron himself had to go. He never leaves camp; he’s almost like… part of the décor or something”

“What if he left because… the quest he’s promising me is arriving?”

“You mean the one he’s been promising you for years? The one fated to a new demigod we haven’t even met yet?” Emily knew of her best friend’s aspirations, of her dreams. Annabeth was one of the strongest warriors at camp half-blood, head counselor at her cabin, and one of the smartest persons she knew. The only way left to prove herself, was to go on a quest, but Chiron had never allowed her to. She would only be able to when, according to the centaur, a demigod arrived who was fated to go on a quest not even Chiron could prevent – Annabeth had received that information under strict confidentiality, so of course only she and her best friends knew of it.

“Well, it could be. It’s been five years. How much longer can it take?”

“Keep studying the newbies, then. Maybe one of them will be the one”

But none of the new half-bloods at camp that summer seemed to be… something special – not that being literally children of Greek gods didn’t make them special. They just weren’t what Annabeth was waiting for.

That is, until one day, or specifically, one night, a new demigod made it to Long Island.

When Emily went to bed that evening, she didn’t expect to be woken up by a commotion before sunrise; it had been raining during the night, although it didn’t rain directly at camp because of the special weather conditions they had there, with the faint sound of water droplets echoed inside the cabins, almost soothing, until another sound joined its melody: frantic screaming, that came from someone running down the hill that led to Thalia’s tree.

Emily and her siblings made their way out of their cabin, like everyone else did, curious to know what had happened, and they saw Grover, dressed in a human attire, completely drenched from head to hooves. He ran to the big house, screaming and limping a bit, and soon after he got there, he walked out alongside Chiron, who dismissed everyone back to their beds, except the head counselors from each cabin.

At the Ares cabin, Clarisse was the head counselor. It wasn’t a title Emily really craved, but the power it held gave her sister some advantages, like right at that moment, being able to go alongside Chiron up the hill to see what had happened, while Emily had to stay behind. Annabeth was head counselor of her cabin, just as Luke was of his, so they both left as well, leaving her alone with a pout.

When Annabeth came back, though, she went straight to Emily, who was already waiting for her sitting in front of Athena’s cabin; there was no way in hell she would ask Clarisse about what had happened if she could just ask her best friend.

“He’s the one. He has to be”

Apparently, they had found an unconscious boy who looked around their age up at the hill. According to Grover, they were trying to make it to camp, when the Minotaur showed up, and attacked them; the boy, whose name was Percy, fought the monster, and he won.

Emily couldn’t deny that that was impressive. She had never fought monsters besides the ones she found at camp’s forests’ or the ones they sometimes brought in for training, but she knew it wasn’t an easy task, let alone if you didn’t have any experience.

“Grover said Percy’s mom was also with them” Annabeth grimaced “Grover believes that… the Minotaur killed her”

“Oh” Emily had lost her own mother when she was little, and she still remembered the pain of losing her and not having her there; she still felt it from time to time. Her thoughts went to Percy, as she knew it would be hard for him “Wait… he only believes the monster killed her? What do you mean?”

“They searched for her, but they didn’t find anything anywhere down the hill. Grover said that… he saw her vanish, like the monsters do when you kill them, just as when the Minotaur was trying to squish her”

“That’s not how humans die”

“I know” Annabeth bit her lip, deep in thought “So many questions and so little answers… But I have a strong feeling about this, Emi. He could be the demigod I was waiting for”

Said demigod spent the rest of the day, and the following night, sleeping in the infirmary. Annabeth, embracing her rebellious side, wanted to go see him herself that evening, and Emily tagged along, full of curiosity for the new boy.

“That’s him?”

“Is there anyone else unconscious here that I’m not seeing?” it was thundering above camp, the sounds of the storm muffling their voices.

“Hush, you” Emily frowned, watching the boy “Is he…?”

“Yeah, he’s drooling” Percy kind of blinked his eyes open then, catching a glimpse of Annabeth standing at his bedside; he asked her where he was, and the only thing she came up with saying was ‘you drool when you sleep’. He looked baffled at her, mumbling a ‘huh?’, and then he fell back into dreamland.

“That was a perfect meet cute moment you two had there, Annie”

“Now you, hush”

The next morning, after breakfast, Luke took both Annabeth and Emily to the side, and told them that he had met Percy.

“He’s staying with us until he gets claimed” that was standard protocol for newcomers who didn’t know who their godly parents were, as Hermes was, amongst other things, the god of travellers “He seemed… pretty rough. No one can blame him though; fighting the minotaur, losing his mom, and what he thought was his life… all of that in one night. It is tough, but so seems he”

“Did he really have the minotaur’s horn? I heard Chris talking about it” Luke answered yes to Emily’s question, and she whistled “Not bad for an untrained demigod”

They didn’t see Percy for the rest of the day, though, not even during the meals; he ate at his cabin after Luke went back after lunch or dinner with something for him. Apparently not even Grover could get him to talk much.

Emily imagined that if she had arrived at camp under the same circumstances as him, she probably wouldn’t act all that different; her case was also one of the rarest ones of them all, as not many of the demigods had been personally escorted by their godly parent to camp. She felt empathy for Percy, wishing he would settle in quickly.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow” she told Annabeth, before they went to bed “You should come too. Get to know him if you think he’s the one”

“I’ll stick to my observations for now. You can debrief me later about what you think of him after you guys talk”

“Sure thing, ma’am, yes, ma’am”

Percy walked out of the Hermes cabin alongside Luke, Chris Rodriguez and other Hermes’ children the next morning, wearing his orange camp half-blood shirt and his (for now) bare necklace. Emily watched him from the entrance to the Ares cabin, and she made her way towards them when she spotted Clarisse walking in the same direction; she was accompanied by her most loyal supporters, which were some of hers and Emily’s siblings, and she had that smile on her face that Emily knew all too well. She was about to do something bad.

Clarisse bumped her shoulder against Percy’s on purpose, and when he exclaimed ‘hey!’, she shoved him on the chest, and he ended up on the ground. Emily reached them when Chris helped Percy up, while Clarisse was asking her audience if that was really the kid who had killed the minotaur.

“Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes” she pretended to shove Percy again, and he jumped back, defensive. Clarisse only laughed, until she saw Emily appearing behind the rookie.

“Back off, Clarisse”

“Or what? Are you gonna call daddy to lecture me?” she mocked her, laughing again, accompanied by their siblings’ mocking snickers. 

“I’ll just win again next time we fight at the arena” this time it was Emily smiling victoriously “And I’ll ask Luke to join me. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

Clarisse only huffed, and she walked away followed by her congregation. Luke high-fived Emily, while the rest of the Hermes’ kids dispersed as well.

“Well she seems nice” said Percy sarcastically pointing at Clarisse’s back.

“Ares kids” Luke rested his hands on his hips, also looking back at the girl who had just left “They come by it, honestly. Except Emily, of course… unless you steal her dessert” he smiled at his friend, and she took that as the clue to introduce herself.

“I’m Emily, by the way” she waved at Percy, now feeling slightly awkward “As Luke said, I’m in cabin five. Ares”

“So that girl is your sister?”

“Technically half-sister, but yeah. She can be… a bit difficult if she wants to. Sorry for that”

“That’s a way of putting it nicely” Percy had met many, many bullies in the last few years; he had been at plenty of schools, and some of them he couldn’t even really recall, but he remembered every single bully “Why doesn’t she mess with you two?”

“She knows better”

“Luke’s the strongest swordsman at camp” explained Chris, who had sticked around “And Emily has been her rival since the know each other. Always competing to be the best of their cabin, at everything”

“So… you mean that they leave you alone because of glory?” Luke had been explaining the concept of what glory (or kleos, in Greek), meant to the heroes, that is, the demigods; if you had kleos, you had fame, and the people knew that you had done something to be respected “So if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?” Luke said ‘exactly’, although Emily knew better than that; she knew her sister better than Luke did: Clarisse would still mess with Percy even if he gained kleos, but maybe she just wouldn’t do it everywhere, at any hour, and all alone against him “And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me!”

“That’s something you can’t control” Emily looked Percy in the eyes, shaking her head “You can’t just… force the gods to do anything. Trust me. It doesn’t work like that”

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it harder for him to pretend I don’t exist and not claim me, right?”

He seemed to have a point.

As Percy’s current cabin counselor, Luke took it upon himself to introduce the new boy to all the activities at camp half-blood – this is, with Emily’s help, of course.

“A good source of glory are feats of skill. We just got to find out what you’re good at”

They took Percy to archery practice, where Apollo’s children excelled. When he ended up shooting his arrow at the opposite side where he had to, almost hitting a bunch of demigods standing there (now, laying on the ground to avoid the flying arrow), they figured he didn’t belong in cabin seven.

“Skill comes natural, yes, but training is also important” Emily showed Percy how to properly use the bow (especially to know how to not accidentally almost kill everyone around him), hitting almost perfectly the bullseye “Even if you’re not initially good at something, if you work on it, you’ll improve”

“How long have you been training?” Percy thought she looked his age, maybe a bit younger, but she couldn’t be older than twelve.

“Since I was six. That’s when I first got to camp, and I always stay for the full term, so I’ve gotten many more practice hours than the average summer campers”

“You’ve been living here since you were six?” he couldn’t believe it “For real?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, and there are monsters outside of camp, so I need the training”

“So you’ve never been outside of here in like… five years?”

“Six years, and no. Chiron sometimes takes us out on… field trips, I guess. And then there’s the winter solstice ceremony, and other gatherings half-bloods can attend”

They went to the strawberry fields, but Percy’s gardening didn’t improve the growth of plants in any special way, so he definitely wasn’t a Dionysus kid (for which Percy seemed very relieved about).

“So… Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“No, I mean, your name” Emily talked to him while they walked back to the more secluded part of the camp, on their way to the forges, where Hephaestus kids worked “I’ve never met a Percy. I remember that… when I was really little, at my mom’s, she would show me these movies and… I think there was one where there was a dog named Percy”

“I… uh…cool. But my mom told me that she named me after Perseus. You know, the hero who killed Medusa. There is a statue of him in the Met museum”

“I know who he is, don’t worry. He’s technically my uncle. Well, mine, and from most people here. Maybe yours too!”

“It still feels kinda weird to me, all of this” he lowered his voice as they kept talking, seriousness invading his expression “I’ve only ever had my mom. Where was my dad when we needed him? The rest of the gods? All you people?”

“Those are the questions most demigods ask themselves once they get here” Luke piped up from a few feet away, looking sadly at him “Why didn’t they tell me sooner? Why wasn’t my dad with us? Why does it have to be me?” his words resonated with Percy’s feelings deeply “But now you’re not by yourself anymore. You have us. And who cares where our parents may be, as long as we have each other”

“Thanks… I guess”

They didn’t have much success at the forges. Percy started out well… until he accidentally threw a burning piece of metal over to a pile of fabric, that burst into flames. Luke sneakily got the three of them out of there before it got worse, and before anyone could notice they were gone, pretending that they didn’t have anything to do with that.

“So… not Hephaestus, apparently” Percy made a face, defeated. They were at the dining hall again, eating at their respective tables, so Emily was now at the Ares table, and him, Luke and Chris at Hermes’ “Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid”

“We’re gonna find the thing that you’re good at. I know it”

Percy heard some invisible bells chiming, and suddenly everyone from the Hermes tables was standing up, grabbing their plates.

“It’s our turn” said Luke “Burnt offerings. The gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer”

“They like the smell of burnt Mac and Cheese?”

“They like the smell of begging”

Luke explained to Percy that in order to get the deities’ attention, he had to burn what he would miss the most, because that way they would know that he meant what he was about to say, and they would listen.

Emily was still watching them from her own table, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

“Don’t turn around” a voice whispered. It was Annabeth. She was invisible using the magical Yankees hat her mother, Athena, had gifted her “What do you think of him?”

That’s how things were between Emily and Annabeth: together they shared brains and strength, and they relied on each other for everything. In cases like this, particularly, Annabeth studied from afar, contemplating the facts, while Emily ‘got her hands dirty’, studying up close.

“He isn’t sure where he fits into all of this” Emily mumbled, pretending she chewed on some bread. She wasn’t in the mood for someone questioning her for talking alone out loud “He doesn’t know if this is really his place”

“It is. He wouldn’t have been able to cross the barrier if it wasn’t”

“That’s not what I mean. He’s… insecure. And angry. At his dad, and everyone who never told him about any of this. And he’s also grieving his mom, which doesn’t make the rest any easier”

“I’ll keep an eye on him”

Emily had practice for capture the flag in the afternoon, so she didn’t see Percy anymore until dinner, where he didn’t look any better than during lunch. He disappeared early after the offerings, and she shared a look with Luke when he caught her watching their table.

The Ares cabin had two tables at the dining hall, and Emily never sat with Clarisse; they were like two different teams under the same roof. When they weren’t fighting, both sisters ignored each other, but that doesn’t mean that Emily wasn’t alert for any suspicious moves on her part, like that evening, when Clarisse and two of their siblings were also watching Percy with too much interest.

She knew that Annabeth was also keeping an eye on the boy, so she hoped that if Clarisse was pretending to do what she liked to call her “initiation ceremony” to Percy, Annabeth would be able to prevent her sister from dunking Percy’s head in a toilet before it was too late.

Emily would also try to avoid that, of course. She snuck out of her cabin, like she had done hundreds, if not thousands of times before, and she searched for Clarisse and her minions, who hadn’t even returned to their cabin after dinner even though it was pitch black outside. Percy was also nowhere in sight, and she started to become worried, making her way to the bathhouse, when a loud noise coming from said place alerted her senses.

Hiding behind a nearby tree, accompanied by the owls’ hooting and the faint sound of crickets chirping, Emily saw how her sister and two more of Ares’ children ran back outside, completely drenched in water, anger written all over their face. When they were far enough, Annabeth removed her baseball cap, standing outside of the bathhouse, and she looked around until she spotted Emily.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked her friend, making her way over to join her.

“You’re my best friend. I just did” that was fair enough.

They entered together the bathhouse, where the floor was now flooded, and some faucets were spilling even more water non-stop. A door to one of the toilets’ was completely destroyed, and the wood that was once said door floated now around in the water, in dozens of pieces. Percy stood in the middle of it all, not a single drop of water on him, looking completely clueless. He spotted the two girls at the door when he turned around, both with their arms crossed, mirroring each other perfectly.

“I can explain” he said, warily. Although, he really couldn’t.

“No you can’t”

“…okay. I can’t” he looked at Emily, who he knew, of course, and then at Annabeth. She looked familiar “Wait. I know you”

“No, you don’t”

“Yeah, I do. You were there… that night in the infirmary” Emily hid her smile, remembering how those two had had their meet cute moment “Weren’t you?”

“Yes” this time, she went with the truth ��I’m Annabeth”

“Are you stalking me, Annabeth?”

“Yes”

“Okay… Wait, Emily, were you stalking me too?”

“Yes” she shrugged, smiling slightly. She had done it for Annabeth, though, and at that precise moment, because she knew her sister had been up to something, but she didn’t owe him any explanation.

“Why?”

“We were waiting to see if something like this would happen” Emily pointed at the chaos that was now the bathhouse, reassembling a pond.

“So I’d know if you could help me” followed Annabeth.

“With what?” Percy wasn’t understanding much.

“Win capture the flag”

The three of them made their way back to the cabins after that brief conversation, without giving Percy any more explanations, so that they wouldn’t get caught in the flooded bathroom and be blamed for it. Annabeth entered her cabin the first, at the side of the Goddesses cabins, while Percy and Emily made their way to the opposite array of buildings, of the male Gods.

“What did Annabeth mean with ‘Capture the flag’?”

“It’s a game. Ask Luke, he’ll explain everything” Emily only smiled at him, thinking his confused frown looked funny.

“Oh… okay” he remained silent for a few seconds “Look… I didn’t mean to attack your siblings. I’m sorry for that” Percy whispered his apology to her, so to not be heard by anyone; it was past curfew so they shouldn’t be roaming the woods at that hour “Although I’m not really sure I was the one who… actually did that. The water just… disappeared inside the pipeline, and then it shot back up hitting Clarisse and the others”

“The water protected you from them” she bit her lip, thoughtful “I’m sorry that they ambushed you”

“It’s okay… It seems like bullies tend to like me. I’m used to it”

“Well, I’m glad that this time they got what they deserved. I don’t like meanies either” she smiled at Percy, now standing in front of the entrance to her cabin “Goodnight, supreme lord of the bathroom”

Emily took a long time to get asleep that night, analysing what she had witnessed; Percy didn’t seem to fit any particular trait of any of the gods, he wasn’t skilled in any specific task, and he wasn’t as mischievous as most Hermes’ children were.

There was a possibility she didn’t dare to think of: the big three. It couldn’t even be possible… right? They had made a pact to not have any more children after the incident (which was, the second world war), because they were too powerful; that kind of demigods couldn’t be controlled. And there were many other gods, minor ones, who could have fathered Percy.

It was the facts though, like all the fuss they had made about Percy getting to camp, the trouble Grover and him had faced, his victory against the minotaur, and that strange yet very revealing experience in the bathhouse, that made Emily doubt if he could be a forbidden child.

Feeling tense and uneasy, she finally fell asleep, off to dreamland: she was laying under the stars on the grass, watching the archer, the ursa major, and other constellations she knew by heart. She wasn’t alone, though. She didn’t need to look to know who it was: his hand, big and calloused, was pointing up to the sky above them, and although he was explaining something to her, she was more concentrated in the movement of his hand and the flex of his fingers. On one of said fingers was the same ring she carried on her necklace, glistening under the moonlight.

She felt safe in that dream, and a warmth washing over her, soothing her like a balm. She wasn’t really understanding anything he was telling her, his voice muffled as if they were far away from one another, although she could feel him right by her side. Her uneasiness slightly vanished, even if it was just for a few seconds, and she felt reassured by him. When she turned to look at his face, the warmth disappeared, and she woke up.

Emily fought to not open her eyes, clinging to the dream; it was a memory of what seemed another lifetime she deeply missed. She didn’t have time to mourn the past, though: today was the day of capture the flag.

Joining her siblings for one last morning practice, Emily temporarily forgot about her doubts concerning Percy, and focused on training: the Ares cabin had teamed up with Demeter, Aphrodite, Hephaestus and Dionysus for this game, while Athena, Apollo and Hermes formed the other team. Although Emily’s team had more cabins, the two bigger cabins were the seventh (this is, Apollo), and the eleventh (Luke’s cabin, Hermes).

There were only two children of Mr. D, and Demeter’s offsprings weren’t very into combat, although they liked to fight the Apollo children for using arrows, which were made out of wood (which came from trees, and they refused to participate in any activity that encouraged the senseless slaughter of their arboreal friends!).

Aphrodite’s children weren’t bad at fighting if they wanted to, but they lacked of… the bloodlust Ares’ children had. Emily was friends with their head counselor, Silena Beauregard, as they had spent much time together at the Pegasi stables, of which Silena was in charge of. The Hephaestus demigods were built big and strong, so they were useful for combat, but their best virtue was the weapons they crafted and provided for the game.

One of their strongest weapons wasn’t made by them, though: Clarisse, leader of their team, owned an electric spear, gifted to her by Ares himself. It was her most prized possession, and she liked to show if off every chance she got, using it with her characteristic brute force.

Emily had her own weapon gifted to her by their father, an enchanted throwing knife which disguised as a bracelet, but it wasn’t as flashy or grandiose as Clarisse’s spear. She hated that spear.

Capture the flag would begin after lunch, so after grabbing a quick bite, and burning some of the food, Emily still had some little time to spare. She looked for Grover, and found him in the forest near the lake.

“I need to talk to you”

“Oh, sure, hi” he looked around them, seeming nervous. Although Emily wasn’t as aggressive as most of her siblings, she could be intense, and rather direct. She had often given Grover many jump scares “What’s up?”

“It’s about Percy” his face went serious “Annabeth and I… we are suspecting something. About his parentage”

“I don’t think I can help you with that” he said, shaking his head fast “No, I don’t…”

“You’re also suspecting something, aren’t you?” Grover’s face turned red; she had caught him. Emily smiled, walking closer to him, while Grover walked backwards, distancing himself slowly “I’m not saying you know anything, but… you know him better than we do. You guys were best friends at his school, right? Did anything happen there? Something… suspicious, that could make you think of a specific god?”

“I really can’t talk to you about this” he thought that Emily had been influenced too much by Annabeth, as she had her same ways of relentlessly asking questions, which combined with her resilience, made her implacable. And he would get in trouble if he said anything. Fortunately, the sound of a conch shell in the distance saved him “Oh, look, the game is starting. I would have loved to keep talking to you, but I really need to go now”

“You’re not even competing” she frowned.

“Yeah, sure, but this place is about to become a warzone, and no satyr wants to be around when that happens”

Fair enough, she let him go; she couldn’t be late anyways, so she ran back to her cabin, and quickly put on her armour, before going to the weaponry to grab everything she needed. Her preferred weapons were her throwing knife and a dagger she had had since she was six, which she always carried with her. For capture the flag she stuck to the standard sword and shield, although she was always tempted by the spears. She liked them, it was part of the typical Greek arsenal for battle… but the spears were also Clarisse’s thing, and she didn’t want to be compared to her sister.

Chiron had started to gather both teams at a cliff where the river split the forest in two sides, and fell down the mountain in a waterfall. Most of Emily’s team members were already there, wearing red striped armours like hers, and at the other side of the river, she saw Luke standing alongside the rest of his siblings and teammates, and also Percy; the blue eyed boy wore a blue striped armour over his orange shirt, with a blue crested helmet on his head. His weapons were a shield, and something small he was holding in his hand Emily couldn’t really make out from that far away. On Emily’s side was the red flag they had to defend, and on Percy’s and Luke’s side, the blue flag her team had to snatch to win.

The captains arrived, Clarisse and Annabeth on their respective sides, and Chiron, wearing his favourite tweed jacket and a cream coloured cape over it, greeted everyone cheerfully.

“Welcome, demigods!” he seemed delighted, and he sounded excited “A new game of capture the flag is ahead! As always, the rules are simple: the first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected” those rules had to be installed after some unfortunate events Emily had been glad to not have experienced “Any magical items you may possess, are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged” those had also been things Emily was glad she hadn’t experienced “Let the games begin!”

After the conch shell blew again, the red team erupted in angry battle cries, banging their shields and various weapons in chaotic rhythms. The blue team let out a collective shout, hitting their shield in unison. Both teams had twenty minutes before the conch sounded a final time, and then it would be game on.

Emily winked at Annabeth, who winked back at her playfully before completely assuming her role as captain once more. Let the best one win.

Clarisse designated different troops for the game, and sent them scattered throughout the forest to attack the blue team and defend their flag. Emily was running off with her squadron, when she caught out of the corner of her eye how Clarisse and two of their siblings separated from their group, heading to a completely different direction.

“Emily, c’mon!”

Sighing, she followed her troop, hoping for the best.

She had her hands full soon anyways. Clarisse didn’t want Emily protecting the teams flag because of her friendship with Annabeth, so she was assigned to holding back the opposite team so that they wouldn’t actually get to the flag; Clarisse wasn’t Emily’s greatest fan, but she knew to not underestimate her. So she was quickly busy fighting Annabeth’s teammates: Emily wasn’t alone of course, as she had four of her siblings and four other demigods to help out. They won the first round, but the next battalion was commanded by Luke himself, and that would be tougher. Much more.

Luke went straight to her; he knew she would be the most difficult one to disarm, so he took it upon himself to fight her. He circled Emily, sword raised defensively, and she mirrored his movements. Luke’s first strike was easy to stop, and with practiced skill she raised her own sword, metal clashing against metal. As Luke pressed forward, Emily countered swift strikes of her own, until one of Luke’s brothers, Chris, joined him and attacked Emily from the other side. She raised her shield defensively, and Luke took his chance to hit her sword again, this time making her lose her grip.

Emily shoved Chris with force, using her shield to add strength to the hit, and when he tripped, she disarmed him as well. Luke attacked again, but Emily jumped to the side in time to avoid the hit of his sword; her own sword was laying on the ground, and she quickly retrieved it using her shield once again to block Luke’s strikes.

“Do you give up?”

“Never”

The two clashed relentlessly, swords meeting in a flurry of strikes and parries. Emily’s determination fueled her every move, strong and skilled, but Luke knew her weak spots like no one else, and so he used them against her. He sent Emily’s sword back clattering to the ground hitting her on the arm, and he dodged her dagger when she threw it at him furiously.

“You Ares kids have a temper!”

“Don’t provoke it then!”

Cornered against a tree, Emily charged against him, letting out an angry scream. Luke managed to get out of the way before she hit him, causing her to stumble forward. She recovered fast, doing a somersault, but when she faced Luke again, he had his sword raised just below her chin – He had the upper hand now.

“Are we done now?”

 “Nuhuh, but I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. I know you need the validation” she let go of her shield, signalling her surrender. She would never admit a defeat out loud, though. Her genes, Ares’ genes, wouldn’t let her.

Luke helped her up, while the rest of her team also recovered. Chris told Luke something about having to move quickly to get the flag before Clarisse showed up, but Luke seemed chill about it.

“Are you so self-confident that you think she won’t manage to kick your ass if she gets her hands on you?” Emily raised her eyebrows at her friend, surprised. Luke only smirked, shaking his head no.

“I’m not that crazy, no. But we suspect that she’s got her own quest going on beside capturing the flag. I’ve spotted her going up the hill in the opposite direction around fifteen minutes ago”

“What quest are you talking about?” she didn’t need to think much to guess it herself “She’s going after Percy?”

“Annabeth’s got a plan, don’t worry. He’ll be fine”

“I hope you’re right”

When Luke and his troop left to go find the red flag, Emily decided she would also leave; they had already been defeated anyways, so she couldn’t prevent Luke from getting her team’s flag, and so she went after Clarisse. The bad feeling she’d had at the beginning of the game seemed to have been right.

Emily ran through the forest, up the hill like Luke had told her, and after some time moving in the opposite direction of where most of the action was happening, she began to hear faint sounds of metal clashing against metal, and the familiar sizzle sound of an electric spear she knew all too well.

To some extent, Emily could understand Clarisse, which was probably one of the main reasons they didn’t get along well. Both of them had been ignored by their father for years now, and not a single thing they did to make him proud seemed to catch his eye. Not a single one. They both lived at camp the whole year, and they trained nearly every single say, trying to always become stronger, faster, and greater. Their mutual competition also helped, she had to admit – they always pushed each other, and it improved their skills. They were their best opponent.

That’s why, when a twelve year old with absolute no preparation got to camp, defeating the Minotaur all by himself, Emily had also had her suspicions. He couldn’t have done it alone, right? Turns out he could, and he did. And instead of being impressed by him and wanting to get to know him more to discover the reason for his spectacular victory, like Emily did, Clarisse could only focus on the fact that some little dumb twelve year old, untrained and unclaimed, had raised more attention to himself in a few days, than she had managed to get in years of being at camp pushing herself to extreme limits to excel.

And it killed Clarisse. She fought so hard to get scraps of her father’s attention, and he never showed her any kind of affection. In her mind, she thought that it was her fault, though, and that if she worked harder for him, he would love her – Emily felt the same way; that’s what she understood so well about her sister. Clarisse’s hard work had barely granted her anything since getting to camp, and Percy was receiving all the glory she deserved and dreamed of, and that he didn’t even seem to want. It wasn’t fair.

That’s why she embraced her darker side, and sought the next best thing after glory: revenge.

Emily got to the top of the hill in time to see Percy running away from her sister and two of her siblings, who went right after him. They would corner Percy from different sides, like hunters with their prey.

She couldn’t just shout out for Percy, as it would reveal her position to her siblings, so Emily ran behind them (lamenting the fact that she had just made it up the hill, and that she now had to run all the way back down with sore legs), trying to figure out their moves: Clarisse was running down in a straight line, not really following Percy, but getting ahead of him, probably to corral him further down the mountain. Her siblings were the ones directly on his toes, and while one of them followed his same footsteps, the other calculated where he would end up passing through, and threw himself at him, sending the boy to the ground.

Percy rolled down to the shore line between bushes and trees, landing on the hard and sharp soil gravel by the lake. Emily’s siblings caught up to him, and Percy stood up quickly, almost tripping while walking backwards to put a distance between him and them, with his sword up; he didn’t go far, though, as Clarisse was waiting for him with her spear pointing at him, ready to fight.

Emily was about to intervene, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her – an invisible hand.

“Annabeth, we have to help him” Emily protested, watching Clarisse laugh at Percy before launching herself at him, almost impaling him like a human kebab “He’s got no chance against them”

“He defeated the minotaur, right?” Annabeth was still invisible, but she could feel, and hear her right beside her. She probably had been watching Percy this whole time, waiting for a fight like this to happen “And he did that thing in the bathhouse. Just… wait and see how it goes”

“Are you sure?”

“Crystal. Trust me on this”

I was hard to look at, though. Emily’s siblings wouldn’t give Percy any respite, however, he managed to grab the electric spear at one point, both him and Clarisse grabbing it now from opposite sites, and he used it to temporarily block her. He landed some good hits on the other two Ares’ demigods, but then Clarisse got Percy to let go of her weapon. Percy rolled on the ground and got his shield back, and after a few seconds where his three rivals reconsidered their options, they attacked him again.

Percy wasn’t trained, but he had a natural talent and he defended himself good, to the point where he blocked Clarisse’s strike, managing to grab the end of her spear again, this time with the same arm he held the shield. After hits, grunts and metal clashes, Percy took the others down, and with both of her siblings on the ground, Clarisse desperately tried to free her weapon from Percy’s grip rolling on the soil, making him trip and fall a few feet away. Alongside the sound of his fall, pants and groans, there was the sound of something hard and metallic breaking apart and a large amount of energy being released all at once

Emily held her breath, just as Annabeth. Percy was alright, and so was Clarisse, but her spear… the electric spear her father had gifted her, which was the only thing she had ever received from him, was now split in two, broken. Both girls held their breath while watching Clarisse assess the damage, seeing the lower half of her favourite weapon in her hands, severed from the half in Percy’s hands.

Clarisse's scream tore through the air like a raw, primal cry of anguish and fury. It echoed off the trees, resonating with the intensity of her emotions as she beheld the shattered remnants of her beloved weapon, devastation on her face.

She charged against Percy, seeing completely red, and Emily couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped forward, just in time to stop Clarisse from grabbing Percy by the straps of his breastplate, who stepped back in terror.

Before Clarisse could lunge at her sister for getting in her way, the conch shell blew, and a second after, Luke and his soldiers ran to the shore holding victoriously the red team’s flag. Annabeth had won.

“The game is over, Clarisse” Emily looked at her sister warily. She was unpredictable when she got angry and hurt, which Emily knew “Leave him”

The older girl only huffed, and walked away with her two companions, holding the remnants of her spear in both hands.

Percy fell to the ground on his knees, panting heavily. The rush of adrenaline was wearing off, and his emotions started rise up him as he caught up with what had just happened – amongst other things, he had nearly died.

“Not bad, hero”

He turned to his right, where there was… nothing. At least, until Annabeth took her Yankees cap off; she walked over to him, and he looked baffled at her.

“Were you here the whole time?” she confirmed it “You were here the whole time and you didn’t help me?” he got the same answer “Why?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and extended her hand out for him to grab. She helped him up, and only then did he look at Emily.

“Thanks for… saving me” he panted, still breathing heavily. His heart was beating a hundred miles per hour, and his blood rang inside his ears “She was going to kill me”

“Listen, Percy…” Annabeth got him to look at her again. She looked him in the eyes, intense gaze studying his blue iris’s, which looked back at her holding onto every word she said “I’m sorry”

Annabeth shoved him in the chest, causing him to stumble and to fall into the lake.

“Annabeth!” Emily looked at her friend in alarm, completely taken aback for what she had just done.

“What is wrong with you?!” shouted Percy, now completely soaked. His cries and Emily’s got everyone’s attention, and the celebration of the blue team’s victory was cut short when every soldier turned to them, watching what was happening.

Percy stood up inside the water, but Annabeth didn’t answer him nor Emily. She only watched him, first with interest, and then with amazement. Emily followed her gaze, and she understood what she was looking at: Percy’s injuries, cuts and blood… were disappearing. He felt how his skin healed, and he watched every scrape vanish before his eyes.

What was happening? How was he healing?

“I don’t understand” he muttered.

The answer came in the shape of a trident.

“Your dad’s calling”

A blue trident floating over Percy’s head. He had been claimed.

Emily, Annabeth, Luke and every single other living being who was there looked at the boy in wonder, in utter silence, the greatness of this once in a lifetime moment embarking their souls. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing: a son of the big three. A forbidden child of the sea god. A demigod singular amongst heroes.

“Percy Jackson” Chiron’s voice resonated through the forest, carrying an intensity that was only possessed by those who had lived thousands of years “You have been claimed by Poseidon. Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Percy Jackson… Son of the Sea God”

---

Taglist of the fic: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles @kyuupidwrites @nhloversblog @beansficreblogs @priyajoyy @zeeader @lightsgore

[anticapitalistclown]

clownie

how would lookism men be as dads ?(how many kids, girl dad vibes or boy dad vibes)

yes! prepare yourselves bc this is going to be a long post...

Lookism men as dads headcanons

let's start with J High Crew and +:

Daniel - he has the vibes to have 1 boy and 1 girl, they're three years apart and get along surprisingly well, they have the typical sibling fights but at the same time they're partners in crime. His kids are well educated and are really respectful, but both of them are as bold as the father.

Zack - same as Daniel but reverse, he has a girl, an older sister responsible and harsh, the pride of her father, and the little one, a boy, a funny and impulsive little Zack that makes sure the family keeps a constant eye on him. They're four years apart, as soon as the eldest got into kinder that Zack went for a second.

Vasco - Vasco always wanted a big family, since young he wished for three daughters, genetics had other plans tho, he went for a daughter and had a son, a healthy and strong one, a year after he wished the gods for a daughter but life blessed the family with another son and so on till Vasco had three sons, each one a year apart from the other, the eldest, a strong, kind and responsible son, he is the peace maker of the siblings, the middle child, a wild and funny version of Vasco he gets along with Daniel's first child, the third child, an adventurous and curious boy, so curious that makes him get in troubles for that, making everyone worry about him. Five years later since the youngest was born, life blessed the family with a girl, a kind and adventurous little girl that gets spoiled by her father and has three bodyguards so called brothers.

(sorry about all this text but I love the idea of Vasco wishing for three daughters and having three sons instead)

Jay - I don't see him being a dad, more of the cool uncle (like jinyoung), but if life gave him a child, it would be a girl, a kind and classy girl.

Jace - a son, a little version of him, a little detective, he will born at the same time as Vasco's third son, a chaotic duo that will continue the father's heritage, on the other hand he would be like another big brother for Vasco's daughter.

Vin Jin - he was afraid his bloodline will inherit polycoria as him so he would be really reluctant to having kids, still, life blessed him with a daughter, she's the apple of his eye, his partner in crime, the reason that made him a god parent for her.

Johan - a son, a gentle and kind son, he's spoiled by Zack's eldest daughter and gets along really well with Daniel's kids.

Big Deal

Jake - he was more than fine settling with an only child, but life blessed him with two sons, genetics are hard on his side so Jake would have two copy and paste versions of him, they are two years apart and get along really well, even more when the youngest enters puberty, they share the same friends, same adventures and great times. The eldest is the extroverted one, his charisma makes people want to be around him, the youngest is more quiet but makes the most random and unhinged plans, when both brothers are together they make the most funny dynamics.

Sinu - a son, the best friend of Jake's kids, he's the eldest of the new gen of big deal. Sinu settled perfectly well with a son, but will foster home some runaway kids.

Samuel - a daughter, Samuel wasn't even sure to be a dad but to think of causing the same pain he had to suffer because of a shitty absent parent, to his bloodline made him settle and be more responsible. Samuel's daughter is spoiled to the brims, she is quite arrogant but she is not a bad person, at least that is what the big deal kids say. Every parent is scared of her, they will all let their sons date everyone they like and encourage them, but will warn them about Samuel's daughter, not bc of the girl, but bc of her father.

Jerry - a son, another blessed with a son and strong genetics, Jerry was more than fine with a single son, the wife did a great and enough hard job of bearing the big son of such a big man. He is the same age as Jake's youngest son, they're inseparable.

Jason - life blessed him with two daughters, they're five years apart, being the youngest, the youngest of all the big deal kids. The eldest daughter and the big deal boys are like peas in a pod, which makes Jason worry about her.

Brad - Brad settled happy with a son, the voice of reason of the big deal kids, he's a year younger than Jake's eldest son.

Lineman - a son, the second youngest of the big deal kids, he is a good boy but always manages to get in trouble (Jason's youngest daughter fault).

Hostel

Eli - his daughter, Eli settled with Yenna, he worked hard for giving her the world and wouldn't change it other way.

Warren - a son, who Yenna cared of him as a big sister, Warren also took in the family Like What and So Funny, so he has two daughters and a son.

Geniuses

Gun - he was blessed with a daughter, a spoiled girl, the pride of Gun, he taught her how to fight, how to grow up without needing any man, Gun raised a girlboss but surprisingly he did well enough to not give her any trauma. Gun didn't care much of making a bloodline of warriors so he was more than happy with raising his daughter.

Goo - two monsters both one year apart, first a boy, and then a girl, both are the the same as him, and the three of them are everyone's worst nightmare.

James - a son, unhinged just as his dad, the new nightmare of the next gen.

Ansan

Taesoo - three kids, his first one, a daughter, a smart girl both academically and street-smart, his best helper, the middle, a boy, a little wild version of him that makes his eldest sister stress, luckily, the third child, a girl, made the middle one focus and mature because she truly is a menace. The eldest and the middle child are two years apart, and the youngest is six years younger than the eldest and four than the middle.

Hudson - a daughter, she has Taesoo's eldest as her role model, she is smart and spoiled by her dad and uncles, doesn't need siblings bc Taesoo's kids take care of her.

Chungcheon

Jibeom - three, Jibeom wanted to maintain the tradition of having a big family so he got blessed with three children, the eldest a strong and independent boy that helps the family, the middle child, a smart daughter, daddy's princess, the youngest, the black sheep, a rebellious boy that warms Jibeom's heart, his youngest son makes him remind of his little brother.

Jihan - unlike his older brother, Jihan had more than enough with his only son, if the boy felt lonely he had his three cousins to play with, his little rebellious and hyperactive son made the same and enough chaos as Jibeom's three kids. When the two youngest cousins of the Kwak family were together the whole town trembled.

Workers

Eugene - twins, two girls, two times eviler than their father, the new gen better be careful.

Yuseong - a boy, the protector of his cousins.

Ryuhei - a girl, a beautiful and evil girl spoiled to the brims by her father.

Kenta - a boy, his heir and his pride, he will seek revenge on Gun's daughter only to get gasslighted by her

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Now That We Don’t Talk

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader + Eddie Munson x reader (ex!Steve mostly)

Not for minors: includes drinking, language, mention of death of family members, etc. not for your eyes if you're under 18, please.

Word count: 13.5k (yikes !)

Author's note: One shot I've been sitting with this one since 1989 TV was released. I'm not 100% on this, but after reading and reading and editing even more, I think it's perfect and as best as I’m going to get. The pacing seems similar to the song, it gets quicker as it goes on, and has a nice abrupt ending. I hope you enjoy it, this one means a lot to me because I’ve put so much time and thought into it. I really thought the quick pacing at the end would ruin it, but like I said I wanted to mirror the quickness of the song. Totally open to some smaller one shots from this ~*universe*~ to elaborate more on any of the years or moments. I’d actually love that if anyone was interested in requesting anything 🩷

“You went to a party, I heard from everybody, you part the crowd like the Red Sea, don’t even get me started. Did you get anxious though, on the way home? I guess I'll never, ever know… now that we don't talk”

Summer 1987

You sighed, kicking your feet at the water in the pool. Your best friend Robin sat beside you, you both were sipping beers you’d practically been nursing all night at this house party you knew you’d have to drive your boyfriend home from. It was your last summer in Hawkins- hopefully forever.

Last spring you’d lost your mom in the “earthquake” of ‘86, and Robin’s family had taken you in until you figured out your plan. You were both reminiscing over the past year living together, and the previous years of the cursed things you and your group of friends had been through in Hawkins and the upside down- the losses, and the victories. Through all of it you’d been on and off with Steve after he’d dropped Nancy- you had her to thank for that one. You’d always had a thing for Steve, ever since middle school, but he only had eyes for Nancy and you knew you never stood a chance. It wasn’t until they broke up, you helped Steve’s wounded heart and then you two became a couple.

You fell in love quick- who wouldn’t? Steve was beautiful, and he was an absolute dream of a boyfriend. Minus the baggage of his stuck up family who hadn’t taken to you so kindly. You two had decided that moving together out of Hawkins would be the best thing for both of you, to leave the memories and nightmares behind, and start a new life somewhere.

You knew Steve was inside of the party, likely hanging out with his “friends,” drunk out of his mind like usual at these. For once he wasn’t hosting, this was a house equally as nice as his, but was some girl’s house from his senior year- but he was still, as always, the life of the party. You looked out across the yard to see that Nancy was rocking in a wooden swing in the back corner of the yard beside Jonathan and Eddie.

“I can’t believe he can still drink like this.” You finished off your beer, crushing the can beside you on the cold concrete surrounding the pool.

“Me neither. He’s doing okay?” Robin’s voice was laced with concern.

“Yeah. I mean, considering… he’s got his good days and bad days, but don’t we all?” Truth be told, Steve had kind of turned into a little bit of a mess. But everyone knew it, and you were all there for each other when you needed extra support.

“I just worry he’s gonna have a breakdown when he gets out of here and he actually has to work for things, aren’t you?” Robin spoke, and the thought had crossed your mind too, but you always seemed to push it out of your head.

“We’ve got everything lined up, thanks to good ole Harrington money.” You chuckled, annoyed but also a little thankful for the fact that he was still supported by his parents, equally just as shitty as they were absent from his life.

“Speaking of, have you laid eyes on him lately?” You checked the gold watch on your arm that had been a Christmas present last year, initials engraved into the inside of the dainty band around your wrist. You realized it had been quite some time since you’d seen him, but that wasn’t unlike him at a party this size. You would tend to be found outside away from everyone, and he would be inside seeking attention from everyone after a few beer.

“Been a minute, I’ll go check on him.” You stood to get up, but felt a hand pulling you up in assistance as your legs climbed out of the warm water of the pool.

“Better come with you, I gotta pee anyway.” Eddie suddenly appeared by your side. You two entered the party, tossing empty cans into the trash can in the crowded kitchen. “Hey, uh…” Eddie stepped in front of you. “Maybe let’s get some fresh air first?”

“Quit being weird, I need to make sure he’s not passed out somewhere already.” You tried to shove past him, but he wasn’t letting you by. “And fresh air? We were just outside.”

“Listen sweetheart, I don’t think-” his voice was deep, and quiet as he gently placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Eddie.” You stamped your foot like a child at your friend. “Move. I’ve seen him really fucking drunk before, we leave in a week, and I knew it was going to be bad tonight, but I can take care of him.” You peered around his frame, seeing what looked like a clear path parting in the sea of people.

It was all leading to your boyfriend Steve, with another girl sitting on his lap. The girl who just so happened to be hosting this party, a brown glass bottle on the coffee table pointed directly at where Steve sat on the couch.

Not only was this girl on top of him, but they were going at each other like feral animals in front of everyone at this party. You stood there, speechless as you watched. Her hands were pulling him in closer by his brown hair, the hair that you loved to absentmindedly play with, and his hands were splayed out across her back and you watched as they slid down to her ass, pulling her into him.

The chatter of the party, hoots and hollers by the shitty old jocks that peaked in high school had stopped, as did your heart as you felt it crumble in front of you. Everyone had realized you’d walked in the room except Steve himself.

“C’mon, I’ll get you home-” Eddie guided you backwards, but you shoved him forward.

“I don’t have a fucking home, Eddie!” You didn’t care who heard you. “HE was my home. How stupid was I to think that Steve fucking Harrington was my home, and we were supposed to start a new one together and leave this godforsaken, cursed, upside down town behind?! But that’s not happening now, is it, STEVE?!” You were screaming at this point. The girl straddling Steve was wiping lipstick and spit off of her face as she smirked at you, and Steve was horrified as he looked at you.

“Honey-” he started, using your favorite name for you that now made you feel more sour than sweet, as he pushed the girl off of his lap and made his way to you, you could see his dick was half hard in his too tight pants, “-it was just a game of spin the bottle, we-”

You kneed him in the balls and walked over to the girl who was still smirking as if making out with Steve was some accomplishment. “You can have him.” you told her as you ran out the front door of the gigantic house.

You had never felt so small. Steve always made you feel small, everything he had was big, but never did he make you feel this small. His house, new cars, big family events- when you only ever had your mom. And now, you didn’t even have her.

You heard the door slam behind you and you assumed it was Eddie, “Eddie, I’m fine to drive home.”

“I-I can’t leave Hawkins.” The voice clamored out.

You turned to see your coward of a boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend now, “What did you say?”

“I can’t leave.” He ran a stupidly large hand through his stupidly gorgeous hair. “I was going to tell you tomorrow, my parents told me that if I go, I’m cut off forever. Like, from everything.” He gestured in front of him as if he was showing you some grand image of his future.

“And? You decided to make me look like a fucking fool at a party, days before we’re leaving? How long have you known?”

“Just a few weeks.” He said as if it were nothing, as if it meant nothing to him.

“A few weeks, Steve?! You didn’t think you could tell me sooner? All of my shit is packed into boxes- fuck, you’re the one who helped me! And now you made me look like a goddamn idiot in front of everyone, which makes me want to leave even more now but I can’t! Steve, we’ve been planning this for months.”

“I’m really fucking drunk, and she climbed in my lap, and-“ he was slurring his words as he approached you.

“Bullshit, my friend.” Eddie had appeared out of nowhere, yet again. He placed his hand on your shoulder to gently push his way in front of you to keep you out of Steve’s line of sight. “I saw it through the sliding glass doors. You held your hand out like some type of a goddamn gentleman and welcomed her onto your lap like it was a golden throne.” His hands wildly waved in the air as he spoke. “Steve, you’ll never know what it’s like to lose everything. You’re too fucking scared to leave mommy and daddy’s silver platter of life they’ve handed you.” It was true- Steve had everything handed to him, and you knew Eddie had lost so much in his life like you had.

“What, so you’re just gonna turn on me like that, man?” Steve walked up to Eddie like he was intimidating, but Eddie never waivered.

“What am I supposed to do, man?” He mocked. “Nancy, Jonathan, and I all saw it. As soon as I saw she was getting up from the pool to come inside I tried to slow down what was happening so at least she didn’t have to see it, just hear about it, but your dick brain just kept on making out with her.”

You interrupted the boys bickering. “We’re done, Steve. I don’t care how drunk you are, it’s not an excuse. You knew that was fucked up, and we are done. Between that in there, and you being too much of a pushover to your parents, I can’t do this anymore. You can pick your shit up from Robin’s front porch in the morning. I’m still leaving.” You stomped past him to your car, not giving a single fuck about how anyone was getting home that night who depended on you. You knew they’d understand. And for all you knew, Steve had another bed already lined up for tonight.

“Baby, baby. Please. Stay so we can talk and figure this out-” Steve was practically pleading with you.

“There’s no more figuring this out, Steve. We’re done.” You tossed the gold watch onto the dewy grass outside of the window of your car, and drove off.

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons, and from the outside, it looks like you're tryin' lives on. I miss the old ways, you didn't have to change, but I guess I don't have a say… now that we don't talk”

Fall 1988

It had been over a year since you’d been back in Hawkins, and had it not been for Robin’s birthday, you might have gone another year. Or more.

You pulled up to the familiar house that was your home for a short while, to be greeted by her parents with big hugs.

���How’s the big city?” They both asked as they grabbed your bags from you.

“It’s uh, Chicago is a lot different. But it’s good.” You smiled. You were doing great for yourself and had managed to swing a job at a venue/bar that more than enough covered bills, and you had been promoted to a manager position that you proved yourself perfect for once you started bringing in bands that you made commission off ticket sales. “Keeps me busy, that’s why it’s been so hard to get back home. But I couldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday, so here I am!”

“Your bed is already made, so stay as long as you want to. Or can, whichever. Robin’s upstairs getting ready.” You thanked them and skipped up the stairs to her room, the door cracked open and you could hear her on the phone mumbling and then saying goodbye as you chose to open the door.

“Wow, you look-” she turned around with a grin on her face as she saw you appear in her doorway.

“Tired? Old?” You laughed at yourself.

“Hot.” She looked you up and down, and you guess you’d changed your look some since you moved. You leaned more into the style you wanted to in the freedom of your new city, adorning your skin with a few of the tattoos you had always wanted, wearing darker and edgier clothes. There weren’t as many judgmental eyes like you’d been under in Hawkins, especially like when you were dating Steve.

“Thanks. You look the same, but more… you. But of course, not a day older.” You hugged your friend and kissed her on the cheek. “So what are the plans for tonight? Dinner, then…?”

“Dinner, then Hideout? Eddie’s playing a show tonight and it’s almost sold out.” She stated as she finished up her lipstick.

“What?!” Your jaw dropped, you’d kept in touch with almost everyone, including him, but he’d completely left that out of his phone calls updating you on his life. “Sold out? I mean, they’re good but-”

“He just got signed by a small label in uh, in Chicago. So everyone is really excited, it’s kind of a big deal show for them.”

“What?! Why wouldn’t he tell me that?!” You and Eddie had regular phone calls- they had become weekly, sometimes a few times a week just to catch up with each other.

“Don’t tell him I told you, he really wanted to tell you tonight but you know I can’t keep a secret, so I had to tell you before dinner. Also, Steve-is-coming. So the show is basically their congratulations on signing, and my birthday dinner is how we got you back here to celebrate both. Because we knew you wouldn’t come back for any other reason.” Robin couldn’t have talked any faster than she was, and once you realized everything she had said, your stomach sank.

“That’s fine, I kind of expected that he’d be there. I know you guys are still friends.” You’d gotten over Steve- sort of. The guys in Chicago were hotter- way hotter, and you were meeting plenty of distractions to take your mind off of how Steve had broken your heart. You just… hadn’t talked to him in over a year. You knew very little about what was going on with him except for the fact that he was following in his dad’s footsteps, and you didn’t really care to know much more than that either. “Just promise you’ll sit beside me at dinner.”

“Got you covered. That was Eddie on the phone, he’s gonna sit on one side of you, and I’ll sit on the other. Steve is bringing his girlfriend since he’s back home for the show, too.”

“Is it…”

“Yeah, it’s her.” Robin looked sad as she admitted the truth. “Don’t worry. You look way hotter than her, and you’re not a shit person. Steve’s here like once a month anyway just to see her, so-”

“What do you mean by he’s here once a month?”

“He moved to Indianapolis, his dad got him a job there like last fall? I think? It wasn’t long after you left. And he comes home all the time to visit her since she’s finishing out college here.”

“Oh, so he can move to a big city as long as he’s got a big time girlfriend back home? Nice logic.” You rolled your eyes as you two made your way to your car.

Enzo’s was the only nice restaurant in Hawkins, and it had survived the “earthquake,” so they were still in their original location in the center of town. The big booth had been reserved for your group of friends and you were actually buzzing with a little bit of excitement to see them.

“Hi!!” Nancy peeked around the booth, and you stood up to hug her and Jonathan, and they slid back into their spots.

“Damn, look at you!” Eddie held you at arms length with his Cheshire Cat grin on his face before he pulled you in for a hug, and you wrapped your arms tight around him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” You bickered back at him. You lightly threw a punch to his bicep, “I heard we’re gonna be neighbors?”

“You told her?!” His big brown eyes looked to Robin, who shrugged, as you three slid into the round booth, leaving two spaces on the other side for Steve and his date.

“Can’t keep a secret! You know me!” Robin shouted over you at Eddie as you watched his face turn a light shade of pink.

You patted his leg resting by yours, “I’m really happy for you. If you need a place to play, I know someone that can hook you up, you know that?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna ask but-” You let out a chuckle at Eddie’s bashfulness that hadn’t changed one bit. You knew the guy in charge of booking bands would trust you to do anything at this point, so he would definitely get Eddie on the regular schedule to get more buzz going for him.

“I only have one other person to run that by, and I’ve got him wrapped around my finger. Don’t worry about it.” You felt his hand drop down to yours with a squeeze, at the same time Steve was walking up to the table. You took in his looks- his hair had grown longer, his choice of dress that had once relaxed was cleaned up more than ever. “Where’s your date? Or did you think this was a business meeting?”

Everyone held in chuckles as you roasted Steve’s attire and he looked at you with no semblance of a laugh.

“Robin said Enzo’s, so I dressed nice!” He defended himself as he sat down.

“Oh that’s right, daddy still buys your wardrobe too, so you probably didn’t have anything else to wear.”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie leaned in to whisper in your ear, hand still atop of yours, “Let up on him. This is Robin’s birthday. Now, at my show, you can tear him to shreds.” He winked at you as he leaned back into his seat, not letting his grip go.

Dinner went as expected, actually better, you were all laughing and joking like you hadn’t been absent the entire last year. You avoided Steve’s gaze all night, focusing on anyone else who was talking, and you looked at your food when he spoke up.

A small cake was brought out for Robin, and all of you sang happy birthday with smiles on your faces as Eddie put on a complete show for everyone in the restaurant, for which he received applause for. He was never one to care about what anyone thought of him, but it still surprised you he had the confidence to be so loud in such a nice setting.

“Separate or together?” The waitress came around after everyone had finished their meals and cake.

Steve reached for his wallet, “I’ve got everyone.”

“No, I’ll get mine.” You reached for your wallet, but a familiar hand stopped you.

“I’ll get the two of us, and he can get everyone else.” Eddie spoke, handing the waitress cash. The table was awkwardly silent.

“Smoke?” You asked him, and he gladly nodded his head, and you forced Robin to get up, so you two could go outside for a moment. “So what was that check thing about?” You held your cigarette to your lips, and Eddie leaned in with his zippo to light yours for you before he lit his.

“Just wanted to remind him what an ass he can be sometimes. You smoke now, big city?”

“Comes with the territory, I guess.” You rolled your eyes and laughed as you both smoked half of your cigarettes on the quiet sidewalk. You stared down at some of the repaved concrete and traced the cracks where the old met the new. “When are you and the guys moving?”

“Well, I was going to ask you. So Robin must have left out that the label kinda… only signed me. Like just me, and they’re setting me up with a band. So I’ve gotta be there as soon as possible to sit in on auditions and-” he was absentmindedly scratching his head as he was talking 90 miles a minute.

“What? Only you? What about the rest of the guys?”

“They’re actually pretty cool with it. They don’t want to move or anything, they want to stay here. I think they’re too afraid to leave their families after everything, and-”

“What about Wayne?” Your heart was a little broken thinking about him leaving Wayne behind.

“Couldn’t be more thrilled for me. He’s still livin’ off that Hawkins Lab hush money, so he’s part time and can come see me whenever he wants.” He took a long drag, before he looked away, then back at you. “Anyways, I was going to ask, I know it’s last minute but can I crash at your place for a tiny little while?” He now scratched at the stubble on his chin and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Eddie, I only have a studio apartment. It’s like, right above the bar.” You thought of how cramped it might be with the two of you living there. You’d come to love your small studio, and you were never interested in ever really sharing your space.

“I know, you’ve told me. I won’t get in your way, I’ll hardly be home when you are. And as soon as I’m there for a few weeks and figure out where I want to stay, I’ll get a lease. I just need some time to look around for somewhere reasonable. I promise in- in maybe less than a month? They gave me a big enough sign on I can pay for your whole month of rent, too. I’m just-“ he stuttered, “I’m actually pretty nervous about going somewhere I don’t know anyone, and I think having a little piece of home with me would be good to keep me centered.” He dropped and kicked out his cigarette at his humble confession, and raised his hands in surrender. “But I totally get it if you don’t want me in your hair everyday, I’ll just get a hotel and-”

You thought about it for a few moments, and you realized it may not be that bad to have Eddie around. You two got along fine, and you talked about mostly everything already so you could cut out the weekly phone calls if he was already there. “You can stay. As long as you need. I’ve got a pull out couch with a mattress, so you’re in luck. I don’t need help with rent, but you gotta keep the place clean, and no random people coming home. I don’t let any of my dates or the regulars at the bar know I live up there because things can get weird, and I like laying low. So if you wanna get with anyone, you gotta do it somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah, because I’m totally swimming in pussy right now.” He scoffed as you two walked back inside, and you were thankful he led the way in because your cheeks were tinted pink at his sarcastic comment. By now, everyone was standing up from the table to head over to the venue for Eddie’s show. You all split up into your separate cars.

“So, did he ask you about moving in?” Robin couldn’t even wait for the car door to shut before she started questioning you.

“Jesus, do you know everything?” You started your car and drove towards the Hideout.

“Yes. I do.” Robin said, excitedly.

“Yes, he did. I told him he can stay there as long as he needs to. Just no random girls or parties or anything.” You left out the comment he’d made about girls,maybe wanting to save it for another day.

“I told him you’d say yes.” She looked out the window, “so… Steve?” You looked at her and shrugged, “what do you think?”

“He looks different. Like he’s just turning into his dad already. Everything he hated, everything he wanted to get away from with me. He’s turning into it.”

“Yeah, he’s uh, a piece of work. Have you thought about talking to him?”

“I have no interest in that. I don’t need to talk to him.” You shut down the conversation as you turned your radio up, driving the back roads to the sketchy bar you hadn’t been to in what felt like years.

-

“Shots on me!” Steve slammed down another round of tequila shots on the sticky high top bar table you all had sat at to have a good view of the stage. You grabbed one and toasted as Steve remarked smartly, “Oh, so you’ll take alcohol from me, but not dinner? I see how it is.” Your crew were all feeling a bit loose already, the drinks at the Hideout were cheap and you were all buying rounds back to back. You rolled your eyes and shot him the bird as the tequila burned down your throat.

Eddie’s band started playing moments later, and the whole bar crowd turned their attention to the stage. He introduced themselves, announced his new plans, and everyone cheered for him. You were beaming at your friend, the town “freak” who was finally getting his shot at what he wanted in life, and people were seeing him for who he was and not what he was known for that was never true.

“Grabbing another one, you good?” You asked Robin over the loud music as you nudged her shoulder. She shook her head and you got up, pushing your way through the crowd to the bar. You felt a hand on your lower back as you waited for the only bartender to come over to you and jumped, immediately pushing the hand away.

“Couldn’t let you go alone.” Steve was standing entirely too close to you for comfort.

“I’m a big girl, Steve. I’m just fine.” You told your drink order to the bartender after Steve did, leaving you two with a few moments of silence.

“You look good. Like, really good.” You watched as he ran his hands through his hair while he obviously checked you out, clearly nervous to be seeing you again. You caught him staring at the tattoos peeking through your sheer black top.

“Thanks? I guess now that I don’t have to impress anyone’s parents I get to dress how I want.” You were feeling a little extra sarcastic and snippy tonight, but you were a few drinks in and didn’t care.

“Can you cut the shit like that?” He immediately came back at you with sassiness.

“No, Steve. It’s been a year, I had to move on and you broke my fucking heart and I had to fix it myself. You fucked this up on your own.”

“Can I fix it?” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it back.

“No, you can’t. I don’t need you to make things better.”

“Listen, I know I fucked up. Everything here reminds me about it. I regret it all the time- but just think about all the bullshit we’d been through. I wasn’t in a good place.”

“Think about all the bullshit we went through? Steve, I was there too, and on top of it all, I lost my mom. All the more reason for you to not cheat on me- you do realize that was wrong to do to me after everything we’d just had happen to us? I wasn’t okay either, I’m still not sometimes, but I know cheating on my boyfriend wasn’t going to be the proper way to deal with things.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, I shouldn’t have done anything that I did. But you know how my parents are, honey.” He pleaded with his big, soft eyes as the word made bile rise in your throat.

“You have absolutely no right to ‘honey’ me, Steve.” You scoffed. You suddenly remembered his date had never shown up. “Your girl stand you up?”

“No, she can’t stand metal so she’s going to come near the end of the set so she can hang out. It would be nice if you could be cordial.” Steve scratched at his bicep- he’d taken off his nicer shirt and jacket, and was now just in his solid undershirt and his well fitting pants to not stand out as much here.

“Cordial, Steve!? I have to be cordial to the girl you were fucking behind my back, the girl who attempted to ruin my plans to get out of this town? Because guess what? I found out you were a bullshitter about that too. I don’t know how you can stay here or visit so much Steve. I’m so scared something is going to turn to red and dust falling from the sky before my eyes and I’ve not even been here a full day.” You were immediately mad at yourself for confessing something so big to Steve. “I’m not going to be mean, but I’m not trying to make a new friend.”

“I’m sorry.” He solemnly said as he took a sip from his fresh drink. “I’m scared of those things too, I still see it if I close my eyes for too long sometimes.”

“Yeah? Well, I also still see the smug look on her face when I walked into the house that night.” You grabbed your drink and made your way back to the table, where Robin had been watching the interaction the whole time. Steve quietly joined the table a few moments later looking like a hurt puppy, and then he stepped away, leaving his drink.

“You good?” Your friend nudged you in the side.

“Not really, no. But I got some things off my chest, so at least I can say I talked to him.” You drank the rest of your drink down in a few sips, and looked to the stage to distract yourself. “I did say I’d be… not mean once she gets here. But I can’t make any promises.” You started replaying memories of the last time you saw Steve in your head, and you could feel the resentment surfacing again- you remembered the shame you felt when the whole party was looking at you yelling at him, the proud look on the girl's face when she realized that you’d seen the two of them.

Eddie was looking at you with concern. He subtly motioned for you to come over to him. The stage at the Hideout was barely considered a stage, so it didn’t take much for you to get to him, and since he was in between songs, he crouched down while the rest of the guys checked their instruments.

“We got two more songs, wanna go sit in the back? There’s a couch, and more tequila, and no Steve.” You nodded at him, holding back some tears of frustration. “It’s okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” You nodded as he patted your head, ruffling your hair up a little as he stood tall to continue onto the next song.

You sat on the questionable couch in the back room of the Hideout while the muffled music continued on- you’d been back here a few times before but never by yourself, and “security” knew who you were so you were immediately let back. It felt weird, and you felt bad for leaving your friends but you really weren’t in the mood to talk about the past, or try to reconcile it especially since Steve was still with the girl he cheated on you with. Your thoughts were interrupted by Eddie bursting through the door, and then he quickly shut it.

“Hey.” He was out of breath, almost panting as if he’d run back to get to you as quickly as he could but you knew it was from the performance he was giving on stage. “You alright?”

You wiped a tear that was trying to fall as he walked in. “Yeah, I’m fine. He tried talking to me at the bar and I’m just… I’m not interested in trying to keep any type of friendship going between the two of us.” You watched as Eddie wiped the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt, revealing his abdomen that was littered with scars from ‘86. Your stomach sank at the memories. “You would think after everything he’s been through- we’ve been through, he would’ve changed his ways but I guess he hasn’t.”

“Fuck him. I mean- obviously don’t… you already did, but, forget about him.” He poured two shots and handed one to you, you probably shouldn’t take it but the night wasn’t ending anytime soon- they were kicking everyone out of the bar and keeping it open later for the band “and friends”, so you knew you’d be here a while tonight. The tequila burned as it went down, and you wiped your mouth on your am as you handed Eddie the shot glass back.

“It’s hard to forget about him when you guys are still friends with him and I have to hear about him. I always tune it out. I didn’t ever want anyone to take sides. I was an idiot tonight and brought up how I hate being back here, and being so afraid of something else happening from the upside down, and I just feel so dumb for letting him in.”

“You heard me that night, he’s too much of a pussy to leave the comfort of his parents pocket. And I stay away from him as much as I can, I don’t need a charge under my belt after getting my name cleared.”

“Ugh, why does he have to be so fucking pretty though?” Your drunk thoughts were leaving your mouth before you realized it. You thought about his golden blonde highlights, his warm eyes, and how his clothes always fit him just right.

“Because he’s Steve Harrington and that’s who he is.” Eddie plopped down beside you. “You’re really fucking pretty too, though.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly hit Eddie’s arm again, “Stop it. I already said you can crash at my place, you don’t have to get all sweet on me.”

“No, I mean it.” Eddie was looking at you as you looked to your side at him. “You’ve always been pretty, and I’ll be sweet on you if I wanna be.”

“Munson, you don’t have to keep flattering me to make me feel better.” He was one of your close friends too, but he’d been there for you when Steve hadn’t been. He called to check on you all of the time, sometimes more than Robin.

“I’m not just trying to flatter you, I mean it. You’re stunning and you look beautiful tonight.” His hand rested atop yours and gave it a light squeeze, making butterflies appear in your belly.

You mentally told yourself you couldn’t do this again- start crushing on a close friend, and potentially lose them. Especially with him about to be signed to a label and getting better known. Your brain was already running a thousand miles a minute with the way he was looking at you.

“You think so?” You asked with a smirk, and you saw a glimmer in his eye. “Well, you certainly have aged well in the time I’ve been gone too, Mr. Rockstar.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice got deeper as he scooted closer to you and let out a small chuckle. “In one year?”

“I’m too drunk to answer that right now.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Oh no, I love drunk you. I get all the juicy gossip from you after a few drinks. You think I’m not too bad now, eh?”

“You heard me.” You said, facing him and crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I did. And I kinda wanna hear it again.” Was this really happening? In the back room of the Hideout? You’d been a little flirty on the phone with him sometimes, but it was hard to read into what he really meant without seeing him, and you never knew with Eddie because he was always a flirt with everyone.

“I said you weren’t bad, Munson.” You felt your face warming up. “Always thought you were cute, but I was too wrapped up in Steve-”

“‘S just Eddie, sweetheart.” He looked cocky as he interrupted you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear- a classic, cheesy move that made you blush. He looked… good. His curls were wild and untamed, but you could tell he had started to take better care of them recently because they were more defined. His jaw was sharper, his face was capable of growing some more facial hair. His features were showing a little more- the wrinkles by his eyes, the subtle dimples, more freckles. How were you suddenly this close to him?

“Is this a bad idea?” You asked out loud to him.

“I don’t think so.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb and shook his head. “At least not for tonight, let’s have a little fun, yeah?”

You nodded, and leaned in and kissed him. You never made the first move, so you didn’t know how much to put into the first kiss. You felt hesitant, but once you were pulled in more by Eddie’s grip on either side of your face, all hesitancy fell to the wayside. You felt dizzy from the passion that he kissed you with. Both of his hands were practically squeezing your face, and you took the queue to straddle his lap, and he let out a sigh as you rested your weight on his thighs.

“Been wantin’ to kiss you for years now, Jesus Christ.” He chuckled against your lips. “Harrington was so fucking stupid to lose you.” He leaned in again, and you allowed him to take over.

“Alright people let’s go- oh! Oh! It’s happening!” Robin opened the door, making you pull back from Eddie quickly.

“Shut up, Buckley.” Eddie turned to shoo her away, and you blushed at your seat upon Eddie’s lap. “We were just talking.”

“You look awfully close to me. Listen, Steve’s girl is out there now, and I’d rather watch paint dry than sit out there and talk to them. Come out and have some fun, please!” She whined as the two of you stood up.

“Give us a minute, Robin.” You pushed her out of the door and closed it. As soon as you turned around, Eddie was cornering you against the door. “What?” You blushed.

“Didn’t get to finish that kiss.” He grasped you by the side of the neck and pulled you into his lips, hungrier, and needier than the first two times. You were breathing heavily into the heated kiss as your hands roamed his body, he was sweaty but you didn’t care- you were too, from the crowded room earlier. “We can talk later, just wanted to test the waters first.” He smirked as he pecked your lips and reached for the door handle behind you.

As you exited the tiny room, Eddie’s hand fell to your side, where he laced his pinky finger with yours and guided you through the shrinking crowd to the bar.

“Water?” He asked you, pulling your hand up to the bar and lacing his fingers with yours, proudly.

“Yeah, for now.” You said, a sheepish smile on your face. You felt a pair of eyes on you from the corner of the bar where Steve sat with his girlfriend, and you ignored them and focused on the water that the bartender had given you.

“Just ignore him. They’ll leave soon anyway, she doesn’t feel safe here or some bullshit like that. I gotta go pack up my stuff really quick, you good to stay here?” He had moved his hand to your lower back, and you nodded. “M’kay. I’m out back if you need me.” He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, then jogged away.

“Details, please.” Robin quickly replaced Eddie, turning her body completely to you, giving Steve her back.

“What?”

“Oh, come on! You two were kissing!” She was yelling unnecessarily, used to the loudness of the bar before people had emptied out, and you leaned forward to put your hands over her mouth. “And that, before he just left?!”

“SHHHHHH!! So what? I’m a little drunk, and he looks reeaaally good tonight.” You two giggled, “He’s a really good kisser.”

“Knew he had it in him. He’s been talking about seeing you again for weeks. MONTHS! I figured he would’ve tried kissing you at dinner when you two walked out, but-”

“Robin, how can you not tell me that he had a crush on me?!” You wanted to squeeze your best friend.

“How could you be so blind?! He told me it started in high school. Then you started dating Steve, and he got mixed up into our group and he felt bad about his crush because you were with Steve, so he never thought he’d have a chance but now everything is just… falling into place. Meant to be.” Robin was out of breath again because she was talking so quickly and you just laughed at her spilling the details out so quickly- it reminded you of how Eddie would talk when he got really excited about things too.

“You really thought he had no feelings for you? Why do you think that metal head idiot called you almost every day for the last year? To make sure you were okay? No, he likes you. He really, really likes you.” Your friend told you as you turned around to see Eddie walking out the back door of the bar, catching a glimpse of you before he walked outside, carrying his equipment.

-

Somehow you found yourselves at a house party, because of course, you always did. And it was at Steve’s girlfriends house, because of course it was. God only knows how late it was now, the Hideout had kicked you out earlier. Eddie had driven your car to the house- he’d had the least amount to drink, and you and Robin had sat in the backseat and giggled the whole way. You completely missed the way he was watching and admiring you in the rear view mirror for the 15 minute drive back to town.

“I can’t believe that I thought this was what I wanted.” You drank the mystery juice out of the red cup and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at all of the same people you remembered from school. You noticed how more people were high fiving Eddie, or saying hey to him instead of just calling him “freak”, or using him to buy weed while you two stood together.

“It’s comfortable, it’s stable. You haven’t had much stability your whole life, so I can understand the appeal.” Eddie took a puff from his joint and you politely declined, afraid to mix the two tonight since you were already so deep into drinking alcohol.

“I know but still. This house is fucking gorgeous, you know? They never have to worry about anything like bills, or-”

“But look at how unhappy they are.” Eddie said, pointing out the lack of smiles on some of the party goers.

“You’re just saying that because you’re high and happy right now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m saying that because it’s the truth. They’ve got all the money in the world but they’re still so fucking miserable with themselves they’ve got to keep throwing parties to relive the old days and feel like they’re peaking again.” Eddie rambled on for some more time as you caught yourself staring at Steve. The way his mouth turned up when he smiled- why was it so charming still? “Helloooooo?” Eddie bumped your hip beside you, and you stopped staring immediately.

“Sorry. Zoned out for a bit. Can you hold my drink while I go to the bathroom?” You handed him your cup and he took it, but you giggled as he took a sip and almost gagged on it at the sour, bitter taste.

You were doing the thing in the bathroom where you stared at yourself and realized how drunk you really were. Fuck. You fixed your hair, and washed your hands, and as soon as you opened the door, there was another force behind it that opened it and they let themselves into the bathroom.

Of fucking course, it was Steve Harrington. And you were entirely too drunk for this.

“Like what you see? Saw you staring.” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but blush. He placed his hands on your waist gently and waited for a reaction from you. When you gave him none, he took a step closer. “Only got a few minutes, what do you say? I saw the way Munson was all over you. Probably tried to get his paws on you backstage, didn’t he?” Steve started kissing your neck and you knew you should’ve pushed him off, but fuck did his mouth feel good, and familiar.

“Yeah, and he did.” You fought a moan, but lost once he reached the spot on your neck that drove you wild. It was a secret spot, Steve had found it one afternoon while you guys were lazily making out in his bed, under the sheets, and he used it all the time.

“Bet he didn’t make you feel this good, did he?”

“Steve, you’ve got a girl-”

“She’s upstairs puking right now. I missed you.” He said as he continued attacking your neck. You draped your arms around his neck and he refocused his attention to you. “Please, can I kiss you?”

You should’ve said no, you should’ve walked out before you leaned in and answered his question without saying a single word. The kiss was hot and heavy, Steve’s lips felt different than Eddie’s- they were smoother, and his kiss was softer. You weren’t sure you liked it anymore, but you kept on. His hands roamed your body, and he moaned as he felt you up, your body feeling different than the last time he’d seen you. Your fingers went to his thick, chocolate brown hair and you ran your nails through his scalp, earning a moan from him.

“Fuck I missed you.” He looked at you, and even though he was also drunk, you could tell he meant it.

“Yeah.” You panted, and dodged his next kiss. “I-I can’t do this, Steve. You completely crushed me. I just got over you, I can’t give this another try. I can’t believe I let myself kiss you.” You still had your arms around him, and your fingers were toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“C’mon, honey. You know me better than anyone. I can’t tell her any of this shit I’ve been through, she’ll think I’m fucking crazy.”

“You should have thought about that before you kissed her.” You pecked him on the cheek and left the bathroom, fixing yourself as best as you could as you made your way back to the kitchen. Eddie was making a small deal in there, and his eyes immediately caught yours. You hesitated for him to finish, and he tilted his head to go outside, and you pushed through the familiar sliding glass doors to wait on him.

“Feel good after that?” He asked, his hands tucking into his jacket pockets. “Couldn’t have made that anymore obvious, honey.” The nickname was laced with venom.

“Eddie, I- I really did have to pee, then he came in there to talk and I-”

“The door get jammed? You couldn’t unlock it? Had to make out with king Steve in the bathroom for the door to unlock?” He coughed out a laugh. “I can't believe I thought you might’ve actually been over him.”

“I wish it were you.”

“You know, I know I jumped into the gang pretty late so I missed the beginning history of you two, but-”

You lunged forward at Eddie, shutting him up for once. “Shut up, we made out and all I thought about was how I wish it was you I was kissing, not him.”

“You mean it?” He asked you, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Munson.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Can Robin get a ride home without you?”

“Probably, why?” You asked as the taller, curly haired boy made himself impossibly closer to you- you could still smell the show on him, the sweat, the spilled alcohol, the cigarettes, and you wanted it.

“Because you’re mine tonight, if nothing else. I wanna take you back to my place. Go find her, I’ll be waiting in your car.”

“O-okay.” You nervously answered him and walked back into the house. “Robin!” You pulled her away from a few people.

“Word travels fast. You better get out of here soon, because she already heard about you and Steve.”

“Perfect. Can you get home?”

“Yeah, I can, where are you going?”

“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You jogged out of the house, and towards your car where Eddie was sitting with it already cranked up and running. “She can find a way home, she said.”

“Say less, my dear.” Eddie put his hand on the back of your headrest as he looked back to reverse out of the parking spot in front of the house, then he sped off to the direction of his and Wayne’s shared house. You knew Wayne worked nights still from all of your late night conversations with Eddie.

Your stomach turned thinking about what was going on right now, what was about to happen. And he must’ve known, or been able to read your mind.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep- I’ll even sleep on the couch. I just wanted you out and away from him. I can’t see you getting hurt by him again.” His hand rested on your knee, and his thumb rubbed gentle circles as he drove.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, but I’m high and horny as hell, but I can keep my dick in my pants unlike someone else we know. And you look too fucking good tonight, you told me you got some tattoos but you didn’t tell me you had this many? S’driving me wild.”

You blushed as you watched Eddie run a hand through his hair, something he did when he was nervous. “You left out that you were even more handsome than ever, too.” You commented back, but it wasn’t even the top of surface of what you could say about Eddie and how he’d changed over the last year. You got to his house, the porch light was the only one on, and he hurried with you to the front door since the fall air was creeping in and you weren’t appropriately dressed for it.

“What about your van?” You asked as you walked in, and kicked off your black boots.

“I’ll get it in the morning, they’re used to me leaving it overnight sometimes.”

“Thought you weren’t drowning in pussy, Munson?” You joked as you approached him, your arms reaching up and wrapping around his neck, as his pulled you in by your waist.

“I’m not, but I could be if you’d let me. And I told you, quit with the last name shit. I like hearing my name out of those pretty lips.” Alright, he was smooth. You’d give him that. You both leaned in and continued making out, feeling each others bodies over clothes, shedding jackets on the floor, before he broke the kiss and guided you back to his room. “I swear I wasn’t expecting any guests so just give me a few and I’ll clean up.”

“Honestly it’s fine, I think I’m a little bit too drunk for anything tonight anyway, but don’t think I’m not interested-”

“Hey, I told you that’s fine.” He kissed the top of your head. “I am gonna have to shower and take care of some things before I go to bed but I’ll grab you a shirt so you don’t have to sleep in this getup tonight.” He roamed around his room and gathered a soft Iron Maiden shirt for you, and a pair of plaid boxers from a drawer. “Can’t promise the shirt is clean but I haven’t sweat in it, but it’s the softest one I have.” He tossed them at you before he left to shower, and you changed into them and tucked yourself into his bed.

“Hey.” You felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder, waking you up. My god, the sight that greeted you. Eddie was sitting on the side of his bed, his hair towel dried, he was shirtless, in a pair of boxers, and you could see more tattoos on his torso mixed in with all of his scars. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He chuckled. “Want me to sleep out there? It’s up to you.”

“Nu uh.” You peeled back the comforter and sheets for him and he climbed in, laying down and facing you.

“I need a tattoo tour tomorrow.” He said through a grin. “Show me yours if you show me mine?”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.”

Eddie tucked hair out of your face and looked at you. “Meant it when I said you were beautiful.”

“I’m sorry I kissed Steve tonight.” You felt terrible about it, honestly.

“It’s fine. I almost expected it. The dude gave you no closure. But I can say it feels good to know you wished it were me you were kissing and not him.”

“I don't have to pretend I like acid rock, or that I'd like to be on a mega yacht with important men who think important thoughts. Guess maybe I am better off now that we don't talk. And the only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery, just like I had been when you were chasing me, guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk.”

Chicago->Hawkins, 1989

“Hey, babe. I made coffee. You gotta get up, the studio needs me in an hour, then we gotta leave.” You groaned as you were being woken up, you had worked the bar until 3 am the night before and stayed until almost 4 cleaning up the huge mess. Eddie had left the bar around midnight because he had some recording to do today before you left for Hawkins- Dustin and his friends were all graduating this weekend and you couldn’t miss it.

“But it’s only 10, please let me sleep some more.” You rolled over in your cozy bed, letting the comforter swallow you now that no one else was in it.

Eddie’s month-long stay ended up never ending. You had a breakdown at the thought of him leaving and not being in your apartment every day. He’d slept on the couch for a few weeks, and then one night you told him how you really felt.

The two of you’s relationship had intensified quickly, and progressed to dating after a month of being around each other. It was your first relationship that felt right, that fell into place so easily without any drama, and you were happy.

“You know good and well if I leave you asleep you’re not going to get up. I’m only going to be there for an hour, I just have to sign off on a few things. You still have to finish packing too.” He kissed your forehead as he handed you the warm cup of coffee.

“Do we have to go?” You pouted over your first sip. You wanted to see your friend’s graduation, but you dreaded the inevitable. And Eddie had promised to play a show back at home with the guys, so you’d be spending a few nights there.

“Yes. We do. I mean, you can stay, but you’ll get awfully lonely here, dontcha think?” He leaned in and winked, “remember what happened last time I said I was going to leave?”

“I guess so.” You groaned as you sipped the coffee. “What if I see him?”

“What if? Baby, you don’t need to worry about it.” He placed his hand on your thigh, which was covered by your comforter. “It’s been so long ago, and he’s just there to see the kids graduate too. We’ve avoided him any other time we’ve gone back to see them, haven’t we? He’s not like a monster that’s gonna get you or anything.”

“No, but he’s Steve fucking Harrington and he knows how to ruin a good time.”

Eddie sighed in defeat. He knew how anxious seeing your ex made you, there was nothing you or him could do about it. He changed the way your friend group was forever after he hurt you.

“You get to see Robin though, and we get to stay at her new place!” He tried to cheer you up. “Babe, I really gotta go. Finish packing, take a shower, and I’ll be home before you know it.” He pecked your lips before he left you lying in bed with your coffee and a tummy full of anxiety.

-

“Presenting the class of 1989!” Principal Higgins announced over the loudspeaker in the gymnasium. You both stood up to applaud the class as you watched them throw their hats in the air- something you remember doing, and you felt Eddie’s arm wrap around you as he pulled you in for a hug.

“You know, I would've shot Huggins the bird if I wouldn’t have been in the hospital.” Eddie leaned in to make you laugh.

“I know. You’ve told me, multiple times. At least you got your diploma.”

“Yeah, because he was sick of me and my satanic worship cult.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled as the two of you exited the gym, waiting for your friends to meet up with you.

Robin and Nancy found you both quickly, giving you gigantic hugs, and asking you questions about how you were doing. A few minutes later, the graduates had made their way over and you watched as Eddie’s smile reached his eyes and he almost squeezed the life out of Dustin. You could tell how proud he was of him, even though he was one of the smartest kids you both had ever known.

You gave him a hug next, “Proud of you, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m an adult now, you know that? I’m going to college soon!”

“Still just little dusty buns to us.” You said and you were pulled into Eddie’s side quickly, almost knocking you off balance. You were used to his clinginess by now, so it didn’t make you think twice about it until you saw Steve approaching the group. Everyone else greeted him like normal, but Eddie just kept you by his side as Steve said a quick hi to both of you.

You knew he had to know or have heard about you two dating. Eddie was on the phone with Dustin when he could, and you were always in touch with Robin and Nancy.

“So, we're ready to party, or what?” Steve clapped his hands together to interrupt the conversation.

“Let’s go!” Lucas shouted and you all split up into your groups. You heard your name being called, and you looked back. Steve was standing there and waved you over. Your heart tugged a little at the look on his face- he almost looked somber.

“You can go talk to him if you want, I’m not stopping you.” Eddie said, “We’ve gotta at least make an appearance at the party at his house. He might have something to say.”

“Fine, but watch if I need you to come rescue me.” Eddie pulled you in for a quick kiss as if he were making sure Steve knew that you were his, and you walked over to Steve with blushed cheeks, and butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey, I just wanted to talk.”

“Figured so, that’s why I came over here.” God, you sounded like a fucking idiot. How could Steve still look so good? You quickly checked him out to see he had dressed in pants that fit him perfectly, a short sleeve polo that was fit to his biceps just right, and his hair looked better than ever since he’d still kept some length on it.

“Are we, are we good?” He was stuttering, something you knew he only did when he was nervous.

“I mean, we’re fine? I guess. I’m over it, I’ve moved on.”

“Clearly.” You could tell the word came out of his mouth faster than he could think about what he was saying, “Are you happy?”

“Y-yeah, I am. He makes me really happy. I’m glad to be out of here, away from all of the past bullshit that happened here. And I’m glad to be away from here, with him specifically. I basically run the bar now, probably going to buy in in the next year or so depending on where Eddie goes with the band, if nothing else it could be some passive income while we’re on the road. What about you?” You kicked at some grass while you waited for his reply.

“Things are good. We just bought a house here, wedding is next year.” That was something everyone had left out of telling you. “Just proposed a few days ago, but the house had been in the works for a little while.”

“Oh wow, congratulations. I’m sure your parents are thrilled.” He looked at you funny, “I mean it this time. I’m not being a sarcastic asshole.” You both laughed a little.

“You look really good. I mean, not trying to be weird but you look like yourself. Like you’ve figured yourself out.”

“Feels like I have, finally. I think getting out of here was the best thing I could’ve done for myself. It feels weird being back here, you know? I wonder how many people really know everything that actually happened. Does she know?” You weren’t sure why you were bringing this up now, but you were curious.

“Hell no, do you know how insane that would sound?”

“I do know, I lived it too.” You said wistfully. You looked back to see Eddie looking at you, and you gave him a small wave of recognition. “I should get back, it was good to catch up.”

“Will I see you both at the house? Still drink tequila?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, still tequila. We’ll be there.” You both exchanged a small hug before you walked back to Eddie, your smile growing bigger as you reached your boyfriend, realizing you’d made some positive progress in your relationship with Steve.

“What was all that about?” Eddie asked as you two walked back to his van. “Took long enough.”

“He was just making sure we were good, and asked if I was happy, apparently he’s engaged and they bought a house together. He just proposed a few days ago.” You said as you hopped into Eddie’s car.

“Weird.” You noticed Eddie’s grip on the steering wheel was tight and you picked at your thumbs out of nerves. You reached up to turn up the radio volume, but he stopped you. He never did that.

“What?” You looked over at him, he was rubbing his face with the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel.

“I might just drop you off and head over to Wayne’s. I’m really not in the mood for a party tonight.” He said, looking straight ahead.

“Eddie, what? I’m not going without you, I’ll just go see Wayne too. You’re the one who said we needed to make an appearance. It’s for the kids, it’s their graduation.”

“Nah, you seem like you want to go catch up more with your old pal Steve.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your boyfriend.

“Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“You couldn’t take your fucking eyes off of him. You couldn’t even hide that you were staring at him, basically drooling over how good he looked.” Silence filled the car. “See, you’re not even going to deny it, are you? You played the whole, I don’t wanna come back here card for all the wrong reasons. You didn’t wanna see Steve because you still have something for him, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t! I’m sorry if that’s what you thought, but-”

“Oh come on, anyone with two working eyes can see the way you were practically undressing him.”

“Eddie, I was not. It was a conversation that we needed to have, it was awkward, but at least now we’re on speaking terms. Beyond that, there’s nothing there with Steve. Yes, he’s still attractive- you’ve even said that yourself but if you pulled over on the side of the road right this second I’d fuck you in the backseat, okay? There is nothing about Steve Harrington that I want anymore. I don’t want that lifestyle, I never did, I thought I did- but I don’t. I don’t want to come home to a guy who won’t let me touch his shirt because it might get wrinkled or ruined, I wanna be with someone who doesn’t care what happens to their shirt when I touch it or tear it off of them. I want to be with you, Eddie. You’re it for me.” You were out of breath, and you looked over to see him staring straight ahead at the road in front of him. “You’re the one who told me to go talk to him! God, just take me to Robin’s if you’re going to be a bitch like this today.”

“Was going to anyway.” He scoffed and you turned in your seat to stare out the window and hold back tears. You two never fought like this. Ever.

Hours had passed, and you and Robin got ready together before leaving for the party at the new Harrington house. You’d changed into something more fun for the party- a mini skirt with tights, your black doc martens, and a cut up band tee from one of the local bands that had passed through your bar one night.

“Eddie’s really not coming?” Robin spoke halfway over to Steve’s new house. She knew the way, so you let her drive. She also said she’d be DD tonight, only having one drink at the time of arrival and nothing else.

“I guess not, he was being so not like himself earlier. He swore that I still had a thing for Steve and that I was undressing him as we talked. Robin, Eddie has said he thought Steve was attractive before. Anyone with two eyes can see that.”

“He’ll get over it, he’s probably just feeling insecure about it because of the last time we were all at a party together.” She brushed it off, but you couldn’t as you bit the inside of your lip.

One hour into the party, and you were drunk. You didn’t know how many tequila sodas with lime you’d had, but it was enough that Robin was already giving you the eye. You spent so many of your nights at the bar not drinking, that you wanted to have fun tonight celebrating the kids graduation before the show at the Hideout the next night.

“Having fun?” Steve slid up beside you as you were pouring another drink for yourself.

“Your bar has definitely improved since high school parties.”

“Where’s Eddie?” He was quick to look around for your boyfriend.

“Oh, I don’t know. Robin and I came here together because Eddie was too much of a bitch to me earlier, saying we were- like you and me- were undressing each other with our eyes while we were talking at graduation, and even though I told him if he pulled over on the side of the road I’d-”

“Whoa, whoa, I don’t need to hear all of that. I was just asking where he was because I wanted to talk to him too. Do you know if he’s coming at all?”

You shrugged as you skillfully cut a lime wedge and tossed it into your cup. “No idea. Guess we’ll have to find out later.”

Later came soon enough, and it happened to be when everyone had decided to jump into Steve and his fiancé’s pool, most of you in whatever clothes or underwear you had on under clothes. No one was thinking twice about it either, since you’d all been friends for so long and were a little more mature about this type of thing. And you were all pretty drunk at this point in the night, too.

“Cannonball!” Dustin yelled as he jumped in, splashing you and Robin for the tenth time tonight.

“Uh oh, the fun just got here.” She said to you as she pointed her finger towards the back gate. You watched as Eddie opened the gate and stalked over to the pool, and scanned the pool of bodies for yours. Your back was to him, so you secretly hoped he wouldn’t see you, maybe? You were at the point you would’ve been happier going home alone with Robin and he stayed at Wayne’s.

“How’d he find the house?”

“The uh, invite is probably on my fridge or something. I left a key under the mat in case I wasn’t home yet when you guys came by to drop your stuff off, so I can only assume that’s how he has the address?” You couldn’t hear what she was saying as you blankly stared at her, feeling Eddie’s eyes on your mostly bare back.

You heard him say your name loud enough for you to hear, but you ignored him and took another sip of your drink. He repeated himself, but louder and you felt like a child getting in trouble with their parents.

You slowly turned to look at him, and he was crouched by the edge of the pool. He curled his finger at you to come towards him. You waded through the pool and with each step your stomach felt sicker and sicker- you wish it was from the alcohol, and not your nerves.

“You decided to show up?” You joked, leaning against the pool.

“Why the fuck are you in your goddamn underwear in Steve Harrington’s pool? Get out.” His voice was thick with disgust.

“No, I’m having fun.” You shook your head.

“Come on, we’re leaving.”

“I’m having fun with Robin.” If you could stomp your foot like a child right now, you would have.

“Do you want me to drag you out of there? I don’t want his eyes on you.”

“Not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.” Suddenly Steve was beside you- a safe distance, but enough to hear the conversation. “Got a problem, Munson? Didn't wanna come party?”

“Fuck off, Harrington.” He spat at him, and you were disgusted by both boys pissing contest. You heard a swoosh of water, and suddenly Steve was pushing against the edge of the pool to climb out. Dripping in water, in his boxer briefs, he stepped closer and closer to Eddie.

“She’s having fun, leave her alone.” Steve stated boldly.

“I can make my own decisions.” You tried to hoist yourself out of the pool and you miserably failed. Eddie stepped over to offer his hands, and you took them to skip having to walk over to the pool steps. Very quickly, Eddie was shrugging off his jacket and draped it over your shivering shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed and out of here.” He tried to coax you but you hesitated.

“Why didn’t you come here sooner?” You asked.

“We’ll talk about it in the car.” He said, pulling on your hand gently. Steve looked between the both of you, as his fiancé walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Of course her underwear was more intriguing than yours- it probably had cost Steve a fortune and a half to purchase and it was the type that probably would be ruined in pool water.

“I want my question answered Eddie. I was waiting all night for you to come here, and-”

“I said, we’ll talk about it in the fucking car.” He got in your face and spoke through gritted teeth. You had absolutely never seen him like this- and then you saw it. His eyes were bloodshot- and not from weed, red from crying.

“O-okay.” You agreed and quietly followed, grabbing your clothes on your way out. You didn’t bother putting them on, you just climbed into the car and Eddie turned the heat on as he started to drive off slowly.

“I went to see Wayne and he told me that my dad died. I don’t know why I’m so fucking upset, I hated the man, but-” you put your hand on his leg as he choked on a cry.

“It’s your dad, shitty or not, it’s still your dad.”

“Then, to see you, in your underwear, in the guy who broke your fucking heart into a million pieces pool while I’ve spent the last year of my life helping you put them back together all while falling in love with you, I just- I don’t fucking get it, man.” He was doing the thing where he cries but laughs it off because he’s so upset. “I thought I was past this, thought we were past this but I guess not.” The rest of the ride was completely silent. Eddie took a deep breath as he stopped the car in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex. “Please tell me you’re over him.”

“Eddie, I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“I can’t take you lying to me.”

“Do you want me to say I still love him?! What kind of answer do you want from me, Eddie? I’m telling you the fucking truth. I let you move into my place, I sleep beside you every goddamn night and even before we were officially dating, just the thought of you not being feet away from me on that stupid pull out couch was enough to make me realize I wanted you, you’re the one I want. I don’t want that life Steve has, I’ve told you time and time again. I’m so fucking happy with you Eddie. I don’t want the fancy cars, the big trips, the overcompensating with a big house. I want our life we have right now, the one we’ve made over the last year. This is why I don’t like coming back here, because it brings up all of this old shit that has settled like dust already. I don’t want anything to do with Steve Harrington anymore. Okay?”

“Okay.” He answered, and turned off the car. He slowly got out of it, and walked over to your side to help you out- your ass cheeks had stuck to the leather of the seat and he walked behind you to keep you decent.

The next morning came and went quickly, all three of you were far too hungover to do anything more than to eat junk food and watch movies in Robin’s living room. The shrill shriek of her phone made all of your heads pound, and she couldn’t get up off the couch quick enough to answer it.

“Yeah… she’s fine. Uh huh. He’s here too. Okay. Ooooookay, then.” Robin hung up the phone and sat back down. “Steve’s not coming to the show tonight, he said he’s sorry.” Eddie sighed a sigh of relief, and you swallowed loudly enough to make him look at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, just… feel like I’m gonna be sick.” You hopped up and ran to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut. About ten minutes later, you heard a knock on the door and the door slowly opened and you looked up at Eddie from the seat you’d taken on the floor. He joined you, and asked if you were okay.

“M’fine, just drank too much last night. Don’t let me do that again tonight.”

“Well, Steve won’t be there, so I don’t suspect you’ll have to drink away your feelings.” He muttered as another hurl came up, and Eddie held your hair back for you.

“I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost, and what it cost- now that we don’t talk.”

1993

You fixed your eyeliner in the mirror with the shakiest hand you’d ever had. You messed up again, and muttered a “fuck” loudly to the room of your closest girlfriends.

“Let me help, your eye is going to be raw.” Nancy sat down on the bench beside you and you turned to her in your white silk robe to let her fix your makeup.

“Probably going to cry it all off anyway. When I went out to grab drinks, Dustin said Eddie’s a wreck too.” Robin chimed in and you looked at her quickly.

“Nervous? Is he going to call it off?” Your stomach churned at the thought of it.

“The man would do anything for you. I think we’ve all seen that over the last few years. Now, sit still before this eyeliner wing ends up in your hairline.”

It was yours and Eddie’s wedding day, finally. You’d both opted for a small wedding, with his bandmates, old and new, your closest group of friends, small family members, and no one else. Eddie and his band had blown up the music scene over the last few years, and you’d been along for the ride the entire time with him- all of the ups and downs. A big wedding was something you never wanted, and with his newfound fame, it made more sense to keep it small and intimate.

Your hands were shaky as you paced the now empty bridal suite, surely you’d worn the carpet down by how many times you’d walked back and forth. You didn’t know why, but you just felt something was off. You mentally checked everything off on your list and you weren’t forgetting anything. Your handwritten vows were in the hidden pocket of your dress, Robin had Eddie’s ring, and Dustin had your ring.

Then came the knock on the door. You hesitated, not wanting it to be Eddie trying to sneak a peak in your moment of solitude before the ceremony.

“Who is it?” You asked through the thin, wood door.

“It’s me, Steve.” The voice on the other side was shaky as he spoke. You hadn’t seen him in a while, probably a few years actually. He’d gotten married, but Eddie was on tour so you couldn’t make it back home. The weekend of Steve’s wedding was actually one of the only weekends Eddie didn’t have a show, but you didn’t question Eddie when he said he needed to have a weekend off and not go home for the wedding. You didn’t want to go alone, so you stayed back too. “Mind if I come in?” He sounded scared, but he probably was. There had been absolutely no communication between you two in a very long time, and it was all on your side.

“Yeah sure, but not for long.” You opened the door to see him standing there, dressed smart as always.

“You look absolutely stunning.” He took in the sight of your intricate lace gown that showed off your tattooed skin, and complimented your body shape perfectly.

“Thanks, but I don’t think you should-”

“You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t be here, so I’m not. I’m leaving, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Clearly you don’t want us to be friends, so I was shocked to even receive an invitation to your wedding, but after thinking about it more, and now seeing you- I really don’t need to be here. I talked to Eddie, and he had a letter to give to you, so he gave it to me to give to you before I left.”

You paused before speaking, and you looked at the man who stood before you holding a letter from your almost husband with shaky hands. He’d changed a little bit, but you both had. His scars on his face were lighter but still there, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told his wife how he got it yet. Had she even asked yet how he’d gotten any of them, at that? The golden highlights in his hair were still there, shiny as ever. And his eyes were warm, warm like his nickname for you- honey.

You were speechless as you continued to stare blankly at him, your mouth couldn’t form any words, except “Thank you. Bye, Steve.” He nodded, smiled, and walked away, and out of your life forever.

You decided you couldn’t be friends as you watched him walk away, with all the things you’d lost- like the pieces of your heart that you’d never get back, that he’d taken without asking. You watched him through the window as he wiped an eye, hoping it was the wind causing the tear, but by the way his hair stayed in place you knew it wasn’t. But you knew he’d felt the same way, come to the same conclusion.

You couldn’t be friends anymore, you couldn’t even talk.

[gardenofnoah]

until the wheels fall off

summary: you’ve all worked hard to see your dream come to fruition—but nothing can last forever, and there’s poison in the water that runs deeper than you knew. it doesn’t matter what katsuki says—everyone has a limit, and you seem hell bent on finding his.

wc: 11k, crossposted to AO3

tags: band!au, drummer!bkg, denki and shinsou play the guitar, vocalist!reader, reader drinks to cope, absent parent/abandonment, jealousy, smut, hurt/comfort, childhood best friends to lovers (hints at soulmates but no direct mention of it), fluff, anxiety, mentions of vomit, happy ending♡

You don’t know when it started. Part of you believes it’s always been there–as innate as the knowledge of breathing. Loving him was too involuntary to have ever been given a choice at whether you’d be wise in doing it.

You snort at the thought–how cliché.

You watch him from the other end of the bar and your throat burns as the whiskey slips down it. It’s become a nightly ritual for you all, though maybe it shouldn’t–tracking down the dingiest, little hole-in-the-wall bars you can find in the city you’re in for the night. Wake up, drive, showtime, drink time–every night for the last month. You should be grateful that your little quartet has gotten enough recognition in the last few years to be able to pull off a headlining tour, and you are. You’re just–feeling a little hollow, too.

Katsuki is how he always is–indifferent to the women surrounding him, nursing a beer and leaning over to mutter something to Denki over the noise of the cooing and fawning–and something about it makes you burn. You want to believe that you are nostalgic for the time long past, when it was just the four of you, coming up through the underground, trying to make a name for yourselves.

You know that’s not it, though.

You burn because he’s yours, and you feel monumentally foolish at the possessiveness that tears you up on the inside. You fight fire with fire and take another swig, chasing the way your nerves will dull by the time the drink runs empty. There’s no reason for jealousy–these are your fans, the ones you’ve all worked so hard to attract–and yet.

Or maybe it’s because he’s not yours–not really. This band was the joint dream of the two of you–started in your mother’s basement when you were children. Tiny noisemakers that only wanted to play, who grew and learned and realized that what you could do together had the potential to really be something. You pulled in Denki and Shinsou, and then it became what it is now–the up and coming indie band reaching more milestones than you ever thought it would. But the more you reach, the more you feel the need to sink your claws into him–to tether him to you. It strikes you as a little ironic that you’ve worked as hard as you have, only to be the thing that wishes to hold him back.

____________________________________________________________

The first time you were truly recognized was a shock to you all–you had been huddled in the living room of your shitty little apartment–writing, planning, daydreaming–when you got the call from your newly-acquired manager that your last single had been added to the Spotify artists to watch playlist. Denki hooped and hollered, clamoring over Shinsou in his excitement, when you felt the weight of strong arms pulling you back into a broad chest. Katsuki said nothing, just rested his chin on your head while you both watched Denki victimize your poor bandmate, and you found that you cared more for the feeling of the embrace of your childhood best friend than you did the recognition you’d worked so hard for.

It was then that you realized you were well and truly fucked.

____________________________________________________________

Two years later, here you are–nursing a too-strong drink in the corner of a bar you don’t know the name of. Shinsou sits to your right, and watches you watch Katsuki for longer than any friend should. He clears his throat and you jump, having completely forgotten he was there.

“You know,” he starts, leaning in closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the noise, “You could just tell him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes as he tips back his own beer. “Sure,” he says, setting it down on the bartop with a soft clink, “and I was born yesterday.”

Stupid, idiot Shinsou, with his too-honed people reading skills, figured out your infatuation with your bandmate far earlier than even you did. He’d kept it between the two of you, and you were grateful for it. Even if he still pestered you about it when the opportunity presented itself.

“I’m just saying–it’s not like the feeling isn’t mutual.”

“You don’t know that,” you say too sharply.

“Oh, please,” he waves a hand, dismissing you and your sudden hostility, “We’re around each other constantly. Whatever shit you guys have going on is damn near suffocating.”

You don’t believe him. It’s always been different with you and Katsuki, because you’ve just always had each other. You quite literally haven’t gone a day without him–your mothers were next door neighbors and close friends, so it was either your house or his, every day. That kind of proximity gave way to a friendship that was, and is still, unlike your other relationships. And when you started writing songs together, that brought you even closer–exchanging pieces of yourselves with each other to create something meaningful to both of you. There was never an opportunity to hide, to withdraw–you had always bared yourselves to one another. For some reason, laying yourself down at his feet made more sense than anything else ever did.

You wave a hand at the bartender, motioning for another drink. Shinsou eyes you, and you ignore it, not wanting to hear the lecture about how you’ve had enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him focus on something above your head, and your stomach drops at the grin that spreads across his face.

“Here comes your leash,” he whispers to you, kicking your shin softly under the bar. You don’t have time to retort–a heavy weight against your back cuts you off.

“Fuck are you doin’?” Katuski mutters into your ear, leaning against you, forcing you to brace yourself with a hand against the bar. There’s no heat in his words, but there’s something else–something that makes your chest squeeze when you realize it might be concern.

“Ordering a drink,” you tell him plainly, like there’s no reason he should be asking you that. Nevermind that it’s a little slurred when it comes out of your mouth.

“How many have you had?”

“I–uh. Two.”

He looks at Shinsou for confirmation, who only shakes his head. He lets out a heavy sigh, holding out a hand in front of the bartender, stopping them from setting the drink down.

“No more. We’re leaving.”

He ignores your arguments and all but hauls you off the bar stool, dragging you outside with Denki and Shinsou. You berate him until you step outside–the cold air making you shiver, cutting off your complaints. He throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he leads you back to the tour bus parked down a few blocks. Your hazy mind tells you to press further into the warmth of his body, but you have enough sense to stop that thought before it becomes an action. You hear his voice in your ear and fight the urge to close your eyes.

“What’s been goin’ on with you?”

The cold is sobering, but not nearly enough to make it easy to have this conversation. Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth and to speak feels like too much effort, so you manage a little hm? in response, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. You wonder who allowed such an uneven sidewalk to be put here as you stumble over it.

Katuski’s grip on you tightens. You think you hear his teeth crunch together with the way he grits them before relaxing his jaw. You wonder if it’s out of anger, and if he’s been shoving it down for a while.

“Why’ve you been drinking so much?”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” you say through a hiccup, and you realize that it’s for the second time tonight. Deny until it’s true, you think. Deny until you believe it, too.

That stops him in his tracks, and you hear Denki and Shinsou stop behind you.

“Go on,” Katuski tells them over his shoulder, “we’ll be there in a minute.”

You watch them walk ahead, whispering lowly to each other. You get the sneaking suspicion that they’re talking about the two of you, and then you laugh a little, because of course they are. Katsuki waits until they’re out of sight, and then turns you–a little abruptly, making your head spin–to face him. You want to shrink from his stare, because he’s never looked at you like this and it stings like a slap.

“Listen, if this is too much for you and you need to stop, we can. M’not gonna to watch you–”

“Kat,” you cut him off, mustering all of your consciousness to speak clearly, “I’m fine. Just had a little too much tonight, that’s all.”

He eyes you, clearly not convinced. “It’s not just tonight. You’ve been doin’ this–”

“I said I’m fine,” you say, and you can’t help the edge in your voice. You pause and suck in a breath, a last ditch effort to compose yourself. Knowing that it might work on anyone else, but not the man who has you by the shoulders right now. You try anyway.

“Really,” you tell him, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist and feeling the muscle strain underneath them. Wondering distantly if he knows that his grip might be bruising. Or you think it would be, if you could feel it. “I promise I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.”

He holds your gaze for a long while, and you hope he’s not looking too deeply into you. Hope that he could go easy on you, just this once.

“M’gonna be watching you,” he warns, but his voice is soft. You smile at him, and it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’d hope so.”

_______________________________________________________________

There’s something that happens when you’re on stage. You’ve never been able to put it into words. Before you’d all had your taste of the limelight, you were terrified of it–terrified of opening yourself up to a crowd of people, displaying your insides like a sick game of show-and-tell while they looked on. And for a while, it was hard–you leaned on the boys considerably to help you through it.

Now, years later, things are different. You still need your boys–just not in the same way.

Waiting in the wings, you feel it again–the calm that settles over you like a thick blanket. You close your eyes, letting the guitar riffs that Shinsou and Denki play wash over you. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve heard them play it–the opener is always your favorite part. You feel like you are drifting through a bottomless ocean–just floating, willingly exposed and vulnerable. Your music is just that–ethereal, unsettling. Like you feel yourself getting comfortable but shouldn’t.

You feel the heavy beat begin from Katsuki, and you open your eyes.

From where you stand, you’re able to see the complete profile of him. It never fails to leave you a little breathless–for someone that is always set on a hair trigger, watching him settle into a place of serenity while he plays has always captivated you. The tension he holds so closely leaves him almost entirely– his body moves intuitively, and you think he could play just as well in the dark. You begin your own walk to the front of the stage, mourning the sight at your back. Lamenting that you should’ve made the intro to this song way, way longer.

The crowd lets out a collective cheer at your approach, and it never fails to make you smile. All at once it feels like coming home–the show-and-tell feeling turning into a mutual give and take between you and those in front of you. When you reach for your microphone and begin, it’s less of a performance and more of a conversation–calling in every single person in the audience, and inviting them into the story you’re weaving. It helps that this venue is as beautiful as it is–tall arches and ornate woodwork allow you to slip further into the character you’ve carefully crafted. Something opens inside of you, and you have no qualms about letting it out to roam freely.

Tonight is a good night, and you all feel it. The song wraps up and you turn to face the boys, immediately laughing at the overzealous thumbs up Denki gives you. Shinsou nods at you approvingly, and when you meet Katsuki’s gaze, it nearly knocks you breathless. He’s wide open and you can see it in his face. He holds you there for what feels like forever, and you have to reach back to grab at the microphone stand to steady yourself. He’s seemingly forgiven your trespasses from last night, the look of concern having given way to something approaching adoration. He mouths a small you okay? and you swear you hear it inside your head like he’s right next to you. You grin at him, showing your teeth as you nod your head. He rewards you with that tiny, devastating smirk on that stupid, beautiful face and you turn on your heel, shaking your head to snap out of it.

“Anyway…” you drawl into the mic, pulling the shawl you wear into yourself dramatically and laughing a little at the knowing whistles from the crowd, “how are we doing tonight?”

____________________________________________________________

“What was that?” Denki all but screeches, shaking you by the shoulders as you all walk out of the venue. He’s nearly jumping up and down on the sidewalk in his excitement, and it’s so infectious that you feel it start to move through you, too.

“Dude,“ he says, very serious in his expression, still both grabbing and pushing at you like he can’t contain the feeling inside his body–or even decide what that feeling is– “you were on fuckin’ fire!”

You laugh at that, feeling a little bashful. It was still jarring, even now–when the lights go out, you return to the person you were before. Everything has changed and everything is still the same as it always was. It feels too much like a rough comedown.

“You guys were great,” you say, and you mean it, “I’m only as good as you are.”

“Nah,” Shinsou’s voice comes from behind, trapping a still-bubbling Denki in a headlock to get him off of you, “Denki sucked. Something was different tonight with you.”

Shinsou ignores the indignant hey! from the man in his grasp as he tows him down the street, creating some distance between the two of them and you and Katsuki. You don’t doubt for a second that he’s doing it on purpose. For as sharp-edged and painfully honest as Shinsou might be, he really could be a great wingman.

Like you’ve summoned him with your thoughts, Katsuki’s matching your stride beside you. He pulls your arm toward him, looping it though his own.

“They’re right, you know.”

“Yeah?” you smile up at him, wiggling your eyebrows a little bit. “Gonna sing your praises to me, too?”

His free hand comes up to cover your face, pushing you away from him, despite your arm still looped in his. He lets out the most dramatic noise of disgust you’ve ever heard when you stick your tongue out to lick his palm.

“God, you’re gross,” he shakes his head, but he’s smiling, and you think you’d do it a hundred more times if it meant you could see him like this again.

It’s quiet between you as you walk–comfortably so. You let yourself lean into his side a little bit, just to see if he’ll shove you off–if he thinks you’re messing with him. He doesn’t, so you stay.

“Do you ever worry?” you ask suddenly, shaking yourself from your reverie with a question you didn’t know you wanted an answer to.

“Mm?”

“About, like…the sustainability of this. Like it’s great, of course. It’s awesome that we have this momentum now. But it can’t last forever, right?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel him thinking it over. You keep walking, arm through his, and you focus on the cloud of steam your breath releases into the cold in front of you–suddenly a little nervous to hear his response.

“It probably won’t last forever,” he says, with a confidence that jars you a bit, “but it doesn’t have to.”

He says it with such finality that you’re not sure how to respond. You’re torn from your thoughts when he pulls you to a stop next to him.

“Hey,” he calls to you gently, and you meet his gaze. He has that look again from before, except there’s no crowd here to pull you away from it. You have no choice but to surrender to it.

“I’m ridin’ this train til the wheels fall off,” he grins, holding out a pinky to you in a gesture that has something inside you mourning over the days of childhood pinky promises long behind you, “me and you til then, yeah?”

You wrap your pinky around his, smiling softly. “Til the wheels fall off.”

____________________________________________________________

It’s unfortunate, the way you test the strength of that promise weeks later.

You’ve all just wrapped up the last show of the tour, back again in some random, back alley bar. Denki had suggested it and Katsuki had protested, clearly wishing to avoid a repeat of your last few experiences. You’d waved him off, telling him it’d be good to get out one last time. He and Shinsou had exchanged looks, no doubt some silent agreement assigning the purple haired man to babysit you all night. So be it, you’d thought. You’d be fine.

An hour in, you realize that you definitely won’t be fine.

You and Shinsou sit at one end of the bar–he’s drawing diagrams on a napkin, which are supposedly guitar tabs but look to you like a foreign language. All at once you feel an acute sense of anxiety–one you’d been feeling over the length of the tour, that is apparently coming to a head right now.

You flag the bartender down for another drink–straight liquor, your second of the last hour. Shinsou clears his throat next to you.

“You think that’s a good idea?” he asks lowly, trying and failing to catch your eyes.

You wave him off, not bothering with a reply as you take a too-big sip of your now full drink. It doesn’t have the effect that you’d hoped for, and you feel the anxiety climb higher still up your throat.

It’s not clear to you at first why you feel like this–you know tomorrow you will go home and start thinking about new music, the next project, like you always do. But there’s also the sinking feeling that you’ll be alone for the first time in two months.

At some point in the last few years, the four of you had made enough money to find your own living spaces. You’re still close–you all live in the same building–but there are far more walls, literal and metaphorical, that separate you now. The boys all have side gigs and brand deals, things separate from you.

You have this. You have put the entirety of your being into this band, and it is all you have.

There’s part of you that fears the end will come sooner for you than the rest–that the decision to put all of your eggs in this particular basket was the wrong one. Not because you feel any sense of regret, but because there is a part of you that fears the inevitable abandonment, should any of the boys start to feel like they have nothing left to give to you.

Rationally, you know it’s not true. You know that the commitments they have made to you and the band are genuine and strong. You know that Katsuki does not make promises he can’t keep.

But right now, you’re wound up and unpleasantly drunk, and when you turn to your left, you see Katsuki with a woman you’ve never seen before. You don’t look at her face—you don’t care to, because you are so fixated on Katsuki’s. For the first time, he’s not immediately indifferent–he even looks mildly interested, talking low with heads tilted toward one another in a display that looks sickeningly intimate while she shows him something on her phone, and something inside you shatters.

You tip the rest of your drink back, and order another.

“Whoa, hey,” Shinsou’s voice comes from your left, sounding genuinely startled now. “What are you doing?”

You feel the break outwardly, like it’s done its damage on the inside and is now trying to find a way out. Shinsou follows your gaze toward Katsuki’s seat, immediately understanding.

“Stop,” he tells you, in a firmness you haven’t heard before, “You don’t know what that is.”

You shake your head, smiling a little, but it’s sad and broken and stuns Shinsou silent. You throw your full-again drink back with a speed that nearly triggers your gag reflex. You bow your head for a moment, taking a deep breath in, trying to steady yourself. Nevermind the spinning walls around you. It all has to come down sometime.

“What’s it matter?” you ask, a little too loudly, “It wasn’t going to last forever.”

You know that the last drink was a mistake when you nearly topple over yourself trying to get down from the barstool. Shinsou grabs your arm to steady you and you wrench away from him, throwing yourself off balance again. You hear him hiss at you to be careful, and then that people are staring, but it’s too late. It happens slowly, which you find strange–you’re falling and then you’re not, and instead someone has you by your armpits, all but dragging you outside. You don’t realize you’re standing upright until Katsuki is in front of you–glaring down at you, all anger and something far worse–something that looks a lot like disappointment.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits out, and it’s all you can do to stare at him, because everything is still spinning and for as angry as he’s always been, it’s never, ever been pointed at you.

You can’t get your mouth to catch up with your brain, and then it doesn’t matter at all because you realize with startling clarity that you’re going to vomit. You have the wherewithal to lurch into the nearby alley, and it’s a struggle to keep yourself upright–bracing yourself on the slimy, damp brick of the building in front of you while you empty your stomach onto the street.

“For fuck’s sake,” you hear beside you, and everything is fuzzy–you lean your forehead against the wall in front of you, trying to find some semblance of equilibrium. You feel the weight of your hair lift from your neck, but you can’t get your mouth to form a thank you.

It’s another five minutes before you’re confident that your stomach has settled. You push off the wall, slowly, testing out your balance. It’s still shit, as it turns out–Katsuki catches you as you sway a little too far to the right. You feel a little like a scruffed kitten, and that makes you laugh, only it comes out choked because you feel tears coming and there’s no defense left to stop them.

“What is goin’ on with you?” he asks, still incredulous but subdued now, bringing a thumb up to swipe at your tears. He’s soft again in the way that’s familiar to you, and that makes it hard to stop the wobble of your lip or the whimper that punches its way out of your mouth.

“Oi,” he half-barks, now closer to you—letting you lean into his chest to keep you steady. He brings a hand up to hold the back of your head and you squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly feeling sick again. Knowing it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Start talkin’,” and you know it’s not a suggestion, and you think that it’s so unfair that he couldn’t wait until morning to ask you this, when you’d certainly be a little more guarded. But he doesn’t, and you think that it’s on purpose, and you know you can’t stop yourself.

“You’re…gonna leave me,” you whimper, and it comes out slurred and broken and so pathetic–you almost wish you were still puking because it would be less mortifying than this, “you all–you’ll all leave and,” you cut yourself off with a stuttered breath, “I’ll be by myself again.”

And you don’t dare look at him right now, so you stand there with your eyes closed, pressing your forehead into his collarbone, praying that the earth opens wide and swallows you whole. It occurs to you a moment later that he’s still holding you there, and he hasn’t said anything. It’s another before you hear him sigh–deeply, like it’s effort, and then your feet aren’t touching the ground anymore. He maneuvers you onto his back, ignoring your weak groans of protest.

“You need to hold on,” he tells you over his shoulder.

You try your best to–your arms circle around his neck, but it feels like all of the strength has left your body. He leans forward to compensate, making sure you don’t fall off of him. He starts walking, and your brain catches up enough to realize after a few moments that he’s not walking toward the bus.

“Where’re we going?”

“Hotel down the street,” he grits out, and it’s short in a way that is so wounding it startles the breath out of you. You put your head down on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut tight, pleading with yourself not to start crying again. If he feels the tears soaking into his shirt, he doesn’t say anything, and you suppose you can be grateful for that.

He doesn’t say anything the whole way there. He walks into the lobby with you still on his back, and you look anywhere but the concierge, a little more sober than you were before and wholly embarrassed. Katsuki hauls you up the stairs to the third floor, opens the door and sets you on the bed. He mutters a quick don’t move and promptly turns, walking away from you and out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

The sound of him walking away seems horrifically amplified–the sound of his footsteps reverberating inside your skull until they fade away. If there was ever a time to feel alone, it’s right now, and you can’t fight the fresh wave of tears that crests so suddenly that it’s startling, even if you knew it was coming. All at once you are 6 years old again, crying for a man that walks away and does not come back.

____________________________________________________________

When Katsuki opens the door again, it startles you awake. You have no idea how much time has passed–it certainly felt like hours. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it reads 1:45am–so you suppose it couldn’t have been that long. He has a large, plastic grocery bag with him now, and he sets it on the bed next to you, rummaging through it.

“Where’s Denki and Shinsou?” you ask quietly, feeling far too sober and deeply unsettled.

“Took the bus back,” he says matter of factly. He pulls out a sweatshirt and sweatpants that are not yours, and sets them on your lap.

“So–how are we…?”

He pauses, turning his head to look you full in the face. You lean back minutely, needing to pull away from him. The shame comes off you in waves.

“You and I are flying home tomorrow.”

And you say nothing, terribly confused and a little afraid. He sees this on your face and sighs, moving the bag to sit beside you on the bed.

“Whatever this is, the shit you’ve been doing–” he cuts himself off and takes a breath in, like he’s trying to compose himself. He takes in another breath, and tries again.

“Think it’d be good for us to go home for a few days. M’sure my old hag misses you.”

Your mind feels like a thousand puzzle pieces, twisting and sliding past each other. It takes several silent moments before your pieces click, and when they do, the reality is devastating.

He’s taking you home because he can’t deal with this anymore. Because he has nothing left to give you.

“Katsuki,” you choke out, reaching for him across the bed. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his lap and squeezing gently.

“I know,” he murmurs, gently, like he’s trying to placate you, “I know. We’ll figure it out.”

____________________________________________________________

You blink slowly back into consciousness when you hear shuffling somewhere in the room. You turn your head, and the clock reads 9:36AM. You know immediately that Katsuki has been up for hours. You try to raise your head to look for him, and the pain in your skull is so shocking that you gasp, dropping back down into the pillow.

“Here,” Katsuki says from above you, and you crack an eye open to see his palm outstretched, two little tablets tucked inside. You take them gratefully and then grab the glass of water from his other hand, gulping them down without a semblance of grace. The inside of your mouth is gritty and it makes your stomach turn again, despite nothing being in it.

“When are we leaving?” you rasp, not really willing to look at him yet.

“Two hours,” he says, setting a bag on the nightstand next to your head, “there’s breakfast in there, if you want it. You should shower.”

You grimace at that–you don’t think you’ll ever want to eat again. You concede that you probably do stink to death of booze–you sit up, carefully this time, and grab for the sweatset he’d left on the bed last night. It dawns on you that only your side of the bed is disheveled.

“Where did you sleep last night?”

He turns his head to look at you, and the look on his face brings on a new wave of shame that you feel physically. He doesn’t answer–you find that it might be better if you don’t know, because if you did, then you’d know you haven’t asked the right question. You get up without a word and walk into the bathroom, letting the door click shut behind you.

____________________________________________________________

You move through the rest of the morning like a zombie, and you barely register that time has passed at all until you look up and notice that you’re on the airplane. You wonder how you’re even here right now, considering you had none of your things with you when you left the bar last night, but Katsuki has a bag with him that he didn’t before, so you figure he’s got it covered. He’s taken the window seat next to you, and you wonder if it’s because he knows you hate flying. You pull the hood of the sweatshirt that’s not yours up over your head, tightening the strings around your face, not too keen on the chance of anyone recognizing you in this sorry state. The plane begins to move and your breathing picks up, which is embarrassing because of all of the things to make you anxious in the last 24 hours, it feels unnecessary for this to top the list. You try to take in a few deep breaths, and it seems to make the feeling worse. You’re damn near ready to come out of your skin and the plane hasn’t even left the ground yet.

You hear movement next to you–what sounds like plastic clicking together, and then Katsuki has you in his arms–cradling your head into the crook of his neck. The hard underside of the arm rest he’s evidently moved up presses uncomfortably into your side, but you let him hold you because you need it more than anything right now.

“You’re alright,” you feel him press a kiss into the fabric covering your head and it feels so much like grief that you can taste it yourself, “I got you.”

____________________________________________________________

He drops you off in front of your mother’s door in a car that isn’t his a few hours later. You haven’t said a word since before you boarded the plane, and he holds an arm out to stop you from getting out of the car. You turn to look at him, and his face is devoid of almost all emotion. You wonder for whose sake it is that he’s doing that.

“I’ll come over for dinner,” he offers, like it’s a consolation prize. You’d look forward to it if this were any other scenario, but right now it just feels like pity. You shake your head.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” you tell him, and you look down at the arm that’s still extended toward you. He doesn’t move it.

“Oi,” he whispers, prompting you to look at him.

“Til the wheels fall off,” murmured when you do.

You sniff at that, eyes shut tight and nodding sharply because that’s all you can do right now. He squeezes your knee and lets you go.

When you get out of the car, you realize that it’s been a while since you stood on your own.

____________________________________________________________

The reunion with your mother brings fresh tears and hugs that you didn’t realize you missed as badly as you did. She all but drags you inside, shoving you into a seat at the kitchen table. You realize that she knew you were coming, and you wonder if she knows why.

After a moment, she sets a mug of tea down in front of you and takes a seat across from you. You close your eyes and breathe in the aromatic steam, suddenly feeling incredibly homesick despite literally sitting in it. You open your eyes when you feel her hand circle around yours.

“My baby,” she says softly, brushing a thumb over your knuckles, “what’s going on?”

“Oh, mom,” you choke out, pulling away to drop your face into your hands. You hear her drag her chair closer to yours, pulling you into her arms when she’s close enough. She pulls your hood down to run her fingers through your hair, gently cooing to you until your sobs turn into quiet sniffles.

“I don’t know where to start,” you rasp after a moment, sitting up and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. She keeps the proximity, running a hand up and down your back.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

____________________________________________________________

It’s hard to talk about it with your mother. You are terrified of the disappointment–by all accounts it would definitely seem that you deserve it, but it doesn’t come. She sits next to you, rubbing your back and fussing over hairs that hang in your face while you spill your guts onto the table: the fear, the abandonment, the numbing that took it all away until it didn’t. The loneliness that cuts you deeper than you ever thought it could.

“What about our boys?” she asks then, and you smile a little at the way she says it. You know that she loves them as much as you do, which is a funny sight to see–three intimidatingly large, tattooed men huddled around mugs of tea, sitting at your mother’s table. She fawns over them every time you all come around, and it warms you from the inside.

“They’re fine–they’re there, it’s just… I don’t know. I think I’m afraid that one day they might not be, and I don’t know why.”

She looks at you for a moment, like she’s considering her next words.

“I think you might know why, honey.”

You look back at her then, knowing what she’ll say before she says it. Unwilling to say it first.

“It’s hard to trust the word of a man when the one who was supposed to always be there left so suddenly.”

You stare down at your tea, not feeling what you thought you would. Mostly, you know she’s right. You can’t trust yourself to speak yet, so you don’t.

“I can’t know what that was like for you,” she starts softly, hand dropping to squeeze at your knee. Your heart constricts at the way it feels familiar. “And I’m so sorry that it’s something you have to carry with you. But honey, there’s a man next door who’s never known a life without you, and it doesn’t seem like he has any intention of changing that.”

Your throat gets tight and you lean into her shoulder, needing to feel grounded. The room feels like it’s spinning again.

“And of course he can’t replace your father,” she continues, leaning back into you, “but he’s someone that loves you. And that’s something worth keeping around.”

“He was with someone else last night,” you deflect, trying to convince yourself of some falsehood in your mother’s words, “at the bar. I saw them talking together.”

Your mother snorts, loud and obnoxious, like you’ve just told the world’s most ridiculous joke. Despite yourself, you laugh a little, too.

“Mom!”

“Oh, honey,” still chuckling to herself, “I don’t think so.”

“Sometimes we see what we want to see,” she continues, patting your leg, “but you know Kat. And from what I can tell, he’s never had eyes for anyone but you.”

“That’s silly,” you say, still deflecting but knowing that she’s telling the truth. And then, “I think he’s really mad at me.”

“I don’t think he is. He sounded really worried last night.”

You balk at that. “You talked to him?”

“He called to tell me you’d be coming.”

And you’re silent then, because you don’t know what to say. You don’t know if there’s anything you can say. Suddenly you are very, very tired.

“Why don’t you head upstairs?” your mother starts, grabbing the now empty mug from in front of you and walking it to the sink, “Get some sleep–I made your bed up for you. You should talk to him tomorrow.”

You nod, though she can’t see it, and you move to walk up the stairs, but stop short of the first step.

“I love you, mom.”

She turns to give you a soft smile. “I love you, my baby.”

____________________________________________________________

The dream is recurrent–you’ve tried hard to find the meaning of it, but you’re starting to come around to the idea that it might just be a comfort to your subconscious.

You’re five years old, and you don’t yet notice the bad thing that lurks on the edges of your peripheral.

You’re five years old, and everything is as it should be.

You and Katsuki construct a fort out of old sheets and couch cushions. Snow falls outside–the wind sneaks through the shutters and shrieks something menacing. But it’s warm inside, and you’re with Katsuki. You are unafraid.

He has a slight hot chocolate mustache and the tip of his tongue pokes out between the gap in his teeth, all of his focus on weaving the sheets together to create the walls of your fortress. You preoccupy yourself with the decor–you pick up a pillow and put it somewhere else, grab your mother’s potted plant and bring it in, even though it takes up too much space.

Katsuki finishes the skeleton of the structure in no time, and he joins you on the same cushion, despite you bringing in nearly every cushion in the house. You both dig into the coloring books your mother left out for you, and in no time you’ve grown bored of them–you opt to doodle on each other instead.

You draw something resembling a heart over the first joint in his thumb–a little oblong and colored outside your shaky lines. He watches you while you do it–the seeds of something old rooting into something else that he is far too young to understand. You look up at him when it’s finished and you beam, all crooked baby teeth and giggles. He goes bright red and shoves at you, shrieking about how it’s the worst thing he’s ever seen. He can do much better, he says, so he grabs your thumb and proves it to you.

It’s certainly not any better–you don’t tell him that, though. You just smile and flex your thumb, watching it move with your skin. He puts an arrow through his–bold and cartoonish, like the old animation of Cupid’s arrow. It tickles when the marker passes over the edge of your palm, and he barks at you to stop squirming.

Your mother comes in with snacks and finds the two of you covered in marker. She doesn’t yell–she just shakes her head, laughing and looking at the two of you with an expression only to be interpreted as a soft fondness. She pulls out her camera to take a picture–makes the two of you hold hands to capture the hearts you drew.

Whether it’s the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning, you can’t be sure.

____________________________________________________________

You wake up feeling more rested than you did before, and without a hangover, for the first time in a while.

Once you’re dressed, you take a few bites from the breakfast sandwich your mother has laid out for you, and you walk out the side door, walking the few steps to Katsuki’s mother’s porch. The morning sun on your skin feels good–it’s a warmth you know you needed. You reach for the door, but you stop in your tracks when you hear his voice on the other side of it.

“I don’t know how t’make it better, ma,” he says, and it wounds you in a way you weren’t expecting, “I just want to help and I don’t know how.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then his mother speaks. “It’s not yours to make better, Katsuki. There were terrible things that happened when you both were growing up that certainly don’t help what’s happening now.

“All you can do is be there–be a safe person to turn to,” she continues, and it’s all you can do not to sniff and give yourself away, “Things will change. It takes time.”

“I don’t care about that shit,” he grits out, but there’s no hostility in it, “Doesn’t matter how long it takes, I’ll be there. S’just–hard. To watch.”

You’re not sure you can stand to listen anymore, so you make a big production out of opening the door, making sure to alert them both to your presence. You walk into his mother’s kitchen–it’s been years since you’ve been here, and yet you’d know the layout with your eyes closed.

“Ah, my other child,” she says, standing to hug you. She kisses your cheek and shoves you down in the seat she’s just gotten up from. “You sit. I’ll make myself scarce.”

You ease into the seat awkwardly, avoiding Katsuki’s gaze. It’s quiet between you. You have no idea where to start, so you pick at the edge of the table cloth in front of you.

“You okay?” he asks softly, like if he’s too loud, it’ll bruise you. You hate it. You feel your face heat and you know you’re going to cry and you hate that too.

You summon all of your bravery and give him a watery, pathetic little smile. “No, I’m not.”

His brows furrow and he leans forward, like he wants to reach for you but stops himself. Thinks better of it. You’re almost fascinated by how hard it is for you to tell him the truth right now. You do it anyway.

“I’m—there’s a lot that I need to work through. More than I thought, evidently,” you laugh a little, and it’s all self-deprecating. You pick at a hangnail. “That’s not an excuse for what I’ve been doing, I know that. I just—“

You suck in a breath, quickly losing your resolve. Needing to lean on him one more time.

“I’m really sorry, Kat,” you choke out, finally looking up at him. Whatever he sees on your face has him out of his seat in an instant and pulling you out of yours in the next, crushing you to his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline.

“I know I’m not good right now,” you say into his shirt through shuddering breaths, “I just, I’m really sorry, I don’t want you to worry–”

He moves you back to look at your face, which makes you grimace because it is almost certainly pathetic and snot covered.

“Hey,” he rasps, with far more emotion than you were anticipating, “none of that. I know. And m’always going to worry about you, you little idiot.”

You choke out a laugh at that and it softens him. He pulls you back to his chest and you feel his kiss to the top of your head.

“M’not leaving you,” he whispers into your hair, “not ever. Don’t you ever say that shit to me again.”

You want to apologize again but you know he’ll wave you off, so you just press your face further into his chest and nod.

You stand there for a while, wrapped up in him in his mother’s kitchen, before he reaches into his back pocket to grab something. He offers it to you, and it takes a second before you realize it’s your phone.

“Let dumb and dumber know you’re alive,” he says, arms still wrapped around you, “they were worried.”

You smile at that, feeling an overwhelming fondness for the men in your life. You keep an arm around Katsuki and shoot them a text with the other: i’m home and alive. love u both, talk soon. You barely have it back in your pocket before it vibrates, several times in succession, alerting you to what is almost certainly a very animated response from Denki. You realize in that moment how much you miss him.

“Stay here tonight,” Katsuki murmurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. You think back to all of the nights that you camped out in his backyard as children, with him promising to keep you safe, in his own jagged, self-inflated way. You think about how everything has changed, and everything has stayed the same.

It’s an easy yes.

____________________________________________________________

You go back and forth between houses for the next week. He gives you a little space during the day–time with your mom, time to yourself. You write some, but mostly you focus on being present. You try to stop the daydreams as they come–try to keep yourself from yearning for a different future, or ruminating on the past, so you can see where you are now. It’s easier said than done, but it’s less difficult in the evenings, when Katsuki returns and your mind quiets all other thoughts but those of him.

Freshly showered and towel clad, you’re laid across your childhood twin bed when you hear the screen door open and then close, and your heart picks up when you hear your mother greet him.

He makes it up the stairs quicker than you thought he would. You let your eyes rake over him, realizing that it’s been a while since you could really get a good look at him. He has old sweats on and he’s leaned up against your doorframe, regarding you with the same level of scrutiny, arms folded over his chest. He’s so beautiful it makes you ache.

Your eyes drift to his hands–each tucked underneath the opposite armpit– and you catch a glimpse of the thing you will always seek out: the red, misshapen curve of the heart you drew on him, etched into his skin forever. You lift your own hand up, holding it above your head to examine it. It’s there, on the first joint of your thumb like you knew it would be. The arrow has faded and blurred with time, but you turn your hand and find it still pointing straight at your heart.

You’d gotten them together, shortly after making the decision to start the band– an ode to the history behind you. But the meaning has shifted in the years since–you wonder if he feels it, too. The quiet nostalgia of the moment has your head swimming a little bit, and you don’t have it in you to stop the words that come out of your mouth.

“I love you.”

His mouth ticks up at the corner, but he doesn’t move. “I know that.”

You sit up–slowly, making sure the towel stays put–and meet his eyes. “Do you?”

He says nothing–just gestures for you to come closer with the tilt of his chin.

You push yourself up off the bed and walk toward him–awfully, awkwardly aware of your own gait–until you’re chest to chest. He unfolds his arms and reaches up to pluck the towel off your head, flinging it to the floor behind you. You squawk at him, scrambling to brush the hair that falls in your face away. He just grins, reaching to brush a few stray strands out of the way himself. The pad of his thumb lingers on your cheekbone, trailing down to brush across the plush of your bottom lip, until it settles at your chin. He grabs you there and tilts your face up to him.

“Ruined me for anyone else the day y’were born,” he breathes, and it’s so nonchalant you’d think it was just a passing thought for him, like it doesn’t shake something fundamental and ancient inside of you, “Loved you every day since.”

“You never told me,” you say, and it’s hushed–you bring both hands up to splay them across his chest, the image of his heart above the one that beats. You feel its pace pick up beneath your fingers.

“No,” he says, running his thumb around the edge of your jaw, “was waitin’ for you to see it.”

You hum a little, turning your face into his touch–nuzzling into the place where you’ve marked him forever. “And now?”

He lets his fingers drift downward, finding a new home wrapped around the nape of your neck. You let out a little sigh, and he looks pleased.

“I want to show you.”

You smile, tilting your head back to look at him fully. “Okay.”

He drops his head down until his face hovers above yours, and he tilts a little so your foreheads bump together. Both of you stay there, content to breathe and just feel, until you push up, needing more of him. He lets you brush your lips over his, savoring the soft press of your mouth, keeping you still with the hand on your neck. You do this until you both start to lose your patience, and you kiss him with more force–you hope that it does a better job of translating your feelings than you have. He’s warm and much softer than you expected, and he takes over all of your senses. There’s something both very old and novel in the way he kisses you, and behind your eyes you see a reel of the two of you, from figuring out how to walk with wobbly baby legs, to creating something far larger than the two of you–all together. It brings the sting of tears to the surface when you break apart to breathe. He kisses a stray droplet away, cradling your face in his hands.

“My little crybaby,” he coos, and you punch at his side lightly, making him chuckle.

“You’re mine, Katsuki,” you tell him, grimacing a little bit at the memory of him and that random woman at the bar. You know you are being out of your mind insane right now, but the jealousy still coils in your gut.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “‘Course I am.”

You shake your head, tightening your grip on him. “I need you to tell me.”

He presses his forehead to yours, walking you back until the backs of your knees tap your mattress. You sit, and he stands between your legs, eyes looking way, way too far into you. His hand comes up to hold your face, and the way you lean into it feels like muscle memory.

“There’s nobody for me but you,” he says, and you feel like if you blink you’ll miss something important in the way he’s looking at you, “M’yours. Always was. Always will be.”

And it’s then that you decide to do something so stupidly embarrassing that you regret it almost immediately: you hold your pinky out to him.

He blinks down at you for a second before a slow smile stretches across his face. It’s one of the most genuine you’ve ever seen on him, and when he wraps his pinky around yours and brings it to his lips, you think for the second time that you are well and truly fucked. You always would be when it came to Katsuki. But he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

You let out a little laugh, one that’s more incredulous than anything. “I feel out of my mind,” you tell him, leaning forward to press your face into his stomach, “do you think it always feels like this?”

“Dunno,” he says through his grin, scratching gently over your scalp, “Maybe. There’re plenty of songs about it.”

He leads you down to the bed and you go willingly, pliant against him as he settles in next to you. It’s a tight fit, especially with the way he takes up the majority of the space with his broad shoulders. You find that you don’t mind too much.

You lay your head on his chest and his arm wraps around you, fingertips brushing over your spine and dipping below the top of your towel to rub at the skin it squeezes.

“I love you,” you whisper, and you find that now that you’ve said it, you’d like to scream it from the highest peak you can find.

“I love you,” he returns, and you can’t get enough of the way it rumbles through his chest underneath you.

“Tell me again,” you tell him, twisting to look up at him. He shifts then, rolling you onto your back and hovering above you, propped up on one elbow. His fingers card through the hair just past your temple and you have to fight to keep your eyes open.

“I love you,” he says, bending to press a kiss to your lips.

____________________________________________________________

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but when you wake up it’s not yet dawn, and you are tucked into Katsuki’s armpit as he hangs halfway off the bed. It makes you smile, and it also makes you grateful that he didn’t turn over and take you off the bed with him. You shift, and realize you’re still wrapped in your towel. You look at his sleeping form, and then down at your towel again. It takes another moment of deliberation before you think, fuck it, and rip the thing off of you, dropping it onto the floor.

You finally settle back down into the bed and startle when you feel fingertips brush over your spine.

“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning toward him to press a kiss to his jaw, “did I wake you up?”

He hums, low and gravelly in his chest, and it makes you feel far too warm as he pulls you to his chest. He’d gotten rid of his sweatshirt at some point in the night—you realize now that you’re chest to chest. He notices at about the same time, head snapping up off the pillow to look at you. You feel your face heat.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep with the towel on and didn’t want to get up, I can put something on—“

“Like hell you will,” he cuts you off, arm tightening behind you. “Feels nice.”

And it makes you smile, because it does feel nice.

He curls his body around you, leaning down to smother the side of your face in kisses. It makes you shriek, shoving at him playfully.

“Gross, stop it,” you groan, not making any real attempt to get him off of you.

“Fuck no,” he grins, kissing you again, “You’re so beautiful.”

Hearing it from Katsuki does something to you—settles the part of you that worries that you’re not enough to keep him here. It seems silly then, to keep hiding from him—to keep pieces of yourself from him in the hopes that he’ll stay long enough to try to find them. You want him to see you. You feel particularly brave and roll over onto your back, watching his eyes widen at the way you are laid completely bare for him.

He lets out a long, low breath, and you feel it when it brushes over your chest—nipples pebbling in the cold air.

He props himself up for a better view, unashamed in the way he studies you so intensely, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

He reaches for you then—you close your eyes when his fingertips brush over your brow bone, content to feel the way he explores. Time moves slowly, and he takes advantage of every second that stretches before him—he’s fixated on the juncture of your jaw and your throat, and you burn under his touch. You let out a shaky exhale at the graze of his fingers down the center of your throat.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, except he’s far closer now, and you only have a second for this to register before the warmth of his hand wraps around the side of your neck to hold you there while his mouth explores the other. He’s still soft—far softer than you would ever expect him to be, all soft lips and warm, sweeping tongue—and it’s such a shock to all of your senses that you can’t help but let out a broken little whimper of his name.

He pulls back when he hears it, and you turn your head to argue but something in his face makes you pause.

If you thought you had a window into Katsuki’s soul before, this moment is the one to knock the whole house down. You hear it like he’s whispered it to you: I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Kat, I—“

He cuts you off with a kiss that brings tears to your eyes—soft but firm, as claiming as it is chaste. “I know sweetheart,” he whispers, forehead to yours. In the dark, you’re sure he’s brighter than the sun right now. You roll to your side, chest to chest again, and kiss him just because you can—because you love him and it would feel like torture to do anything else.

He presses kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, and down the stretch of your throat—you shiver when his tongue laves at the point where your shoulder meets it. He finds your hand and drags it to his lips, mouth trailing over every inch of arm he can reach. Making sure to press a kiss to his heart on your hand.

“Not gonna fuck you,” he says plainly against your wrist, shocking a laugh out of you, “not gonna put your mom through that. I jus’ wanna feel you.”

“A little presumptuous, but okay,” you tease, but it only comes out breathless when his fingers trail over your collarbone and down your breast, apparently content to test the validity of your statement.

He leaves a trail of heat with his touch that makes it hard to keep your eyes open, but you can’t bear to miss the way he pulls pleasure from you with the smallest effort. He learns your body with no agenda—he truly just wants to feel you, but it doesn’t stop you from squirming at the way his fingers brush over your nipples.

It makes him grin, but he doesn’t stop—he just moves on, thumb grazing the skin under your breast, down to the soft of your belly. He lets out a low moan when he feels you there—you don’t think he even knows he did it and it makes you squeeze your thighs together and turn your face into the pillow, fighting like hell to compose yourself.

You feel his calloused palm smooth over the curve of your hip and down to your knee. His fingers curve around the back of it, pulling it up and over his hip. Air brushes over your now exposed sex and your mouth drops open with a whine, far more sensitive than you were anticipating.

“Katsuki, I can’t, I—“

He shushes you with a brush of his lips over yours—sweet and far more innocent than you would prefer.

“Please touch me,” you whimper against his mouth, and you feel the slow grin spread across his face.

“You gonna be quiet?”

You nod like your life depends on it, and he chuckles, a little dark in a way that has your stomach churning.

He pulls back a little to watch your face as he brushes the backs of his knuckles over your slit. It pulls a moan from both of you, and you can’t look away from him as he brings his hand to his face, swiping his tongue over every knuckle. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, like it’s suddenly too much for him. Like he needs to ground himself to keep from taking from you like he wants to.

His hand slips down between you again, cupping you firmly, and your whole body bucks. You lean forward to hide your face in his neck, unable to keep from dragging your aching clit over the heel of his palm.

“There y’go,” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the skin just below it, “does that feel good?”

You bite down on his shoulder to keep from crying out after a particularly intense shock of pleasure shoots up your spine. Your fingers grab at anything you can reach—you wrap them around the side of his neck, both to ground you and for leverage, and he rewards you with the most sinful groan you’ve ever heard, right into your ear.

“I-I need,” you gasp, trying to form a sentence in between the half-frantic snap of your hips, “inside, Kat, please—“

You nearly come out of your skin when he raises his middle finger slightly, the motion of your hips working to push him in, in, in, fitting to you better than you could’ve dreamed of. He’s no better off than you are—mouth open and panting against your neck, and the knowledge that he’s getting off on this has you fucking yourself onto his hand with an almost violent pace.

He presses against you harder, pushing his finger deeper, and you jam your face further into his shoulder, praying like hell it muffles the noise you’re making.

“Need you to cum,” he gasps, nearly pleading, “need t’feel you—“

And you didn’t need the prompting, but the way he pleads sends you over the edge anyway—your entire body seizing as you clamp down hard on his finger. You vaguely register his voice over the ringing in your ears as time slows again—seconds turn to hours that you’re trapped here, every tiny brush of his palm against your clit sending shocks of pleasure that rip through you like waves. It feels like forever before he’s calling you back to him—soft, breathy murmurs of your name against your skin, fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck to hold you to his chest.

It’s quiet between you, then—each of your stuttered breaths and your own pulse in your ears cutting through the silence. He stays inside you because he can, and you have no qualms about it.

“Well. Fuck,” you murmur against his skin, pulling a laugh from him that would have you kicking your feet if you could muster the energy to do it.

He presses kisses to your hairline, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into them. You feel him slip from inside of you and it feels like a loss—one he quickly remedies by pulling you to his chest with a bruising grip.

“Think you’re gonna kill me,” he whispers, and you snort.

“Yeah, well, it’s mutual.”

____________________________________________________________

It’s a playful cat and mouse chase up the stairs to your apartment. You let him crowd you into the door, fumbling for and nearly dropping your keys.

“You know,” you finally get the wherewithal to shove the key into the lock, “this would go a lot faster if you’d let me open the door.”

“Or I could just fuck you right here, give the neighbors somethin’ to complain about—“

You swing the door open and you both freeze, Denki and Shinsou staring back at you—neither looking particularly shocked.

Shinsou grins, turning to Denki. “You owe me $50, motherfucker.”

Denki groans, reaching for his wallet. “You guys couldn’t have waited like another week?”

“Get the fuck out,” Katsuki grumbles over your head, though it’s softer than you think he wanted it to be. It makes you smile.

You take a step into the apartment, and it feels different. You feel different—it’ll be a marathon, not a sprint, but you have the tools to get to the end of it now. You feel lighter than you have in a long time—more prepared for what’s coming next, even if you don’t know what it is. You look at your boys—Shinsou and Denki bickering over whatever bet they made, and Katsuki, who presses a kiss to your temple before taking your bag back to your bedroom—you’re not alone. You never were with these guys, and you won’t be again as long as you all can help it.

You walk over to Shinsou and Denki, cramming yourself between them on your couch.

“Hi,” a little sheepish, still a little embarrassed, “I missed you guys.”

Denki throws his arms around your neck with a drawn out, theatric wail. He peers around you and levels a glare at Shinsou. “They’re talking to me, you rat bastard.”

Shinsou only laughs, shoving his shoulder into yours.

“We missed you, too,” he says, and it’s genuine—you blink away the tears you feel threatening to spill over.

When you look up, Katsuki is in front of you again. He bends to press a kiss to your hairline, and Shinsou lurches away, gagging.

“Oh!” Denki yells, directly into your ear, “Me too, Kaachan—“

“Not on your fuckin’ life, shit ass—“

You know it’ll be okay. It has to be, with a family like this. There will be talks of new songs, projects, albums, and whatever else you can all think of soon, but for now, you’re content to sit in the love that holds you all together.

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.  

[fangirleaconmigo]

So I’ve been a bit absent. Putting a ‘read more’ because shit in my life has gotten very real very quickly.

One of my younger sisters went to urgent care with stomach discomfort last Tuesday. It turned out that she had a huge mass in her pelvis, (18x25 cm) and our lives were plunged into a black hole of fear.

In the past week/weekend, she’s gotten blood tests and referrals for more scans. Every test result is more ominous and terrifying than the last. It is definitely ovarian cancer and she will need a major surgery and we don’t know what else.

In one day, I moved her completely into my house. She gave notice on hers. We are trying to find foster care for her cats while she is in treatment because she can’t care for them during, and neither can I.

We still haven’t had a proper prognosis and treatment plan. That will be today, I hope. I am about to drive her to her first actual appointment with a real oncologist.

It’s early and I’m lying awake in my bed. I haven’t slept much in the past weeks. I go to sleep googling ovarian cancer, and I wake up and google ovarian cancer, and I feel like an entire house is crushing me. I can barely breathe. I have to go fetal position for a few minutes sometimes during the day to get through it.

We need some hope today. We need some good news. We need, at the very minimum, a plan for her care. Something to focus on.

Please keep us in your thoughts and send us some love and good will. She is either in shock or being very brave but she could get hopeful, or devastating news today (or more terrifying limbo) and I don’t know where that will leave us.

I won’t try to tell you how much my sister means to me. But I will say that we grew up together in an isolated family with shitty, monstrous, abusive parents and it fused us together in profound ways. I raised her to the extent that a child can raise another child. (It’s like that John Mulaney joke where he said his babysitter was so young, it was like a horse caring for a dog lol)

We are both super sci-fi fantasy nerds. I watch tv with her probably three to four nights a week, and we can talk for LITERAL HOURS about the intricacies of the writing and the characters on the various franchises. We usually agree, but we probably woke the neighbors with our argument about who the best Doctor Who companion was.

We work at the same hospital and share an office one day a week, and the people in the hall probably hear our elaborate Star Wars or MCU theories.

I know better than to get her started about certain things, but no matter what I do, every Thanksgiving she gives an entire speech about how the LOTR movie adaptations failed Gimli, son of Gloin.

We’ve been to Supernatural cons (we’ve both written SPN fic), and SDCC together many times. Actually, we went to ECCC together this year, so @spacecores and @roguepyrola met her and can attest to the fact that she is a mouthy, down to earth, absolutely brilliant, funny, foul mouthed, nerdy ass bitch.

I NEED HER, ok, I FUCKIN NEED HER.

So if you meditate, pray, send intentions, I don’t care what it is, I need it today. Her appointment is in about three hours and we need some hope.

Thanks for reading, friends. ♥️ I know this isn’t fandom related but we’re all real life human beings here with real lives, and that’s what is happening in mine.

[starrclown]

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss: Parents

I've noticed something in both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, ya ever realize that the parents either suck or aren't around? I can explain this. Okay so to show what I mean here's Helluva Boss Characters and their parents relationship.

Blitzø: Shitty Dad with Caring Mother. Caring Mother is dead.

Moxxie: Abusive Dad with Caring Mother. Caring Mother is killed by Abusive Father.

Millie: Has both parents in her life. Both parents are loving but also hardasses.

Loona: No biological parents. Has a loving adopting father.

Stolas: Neglectful Father? (I phrase that as a question because Paimon neglects Stolas yes but he also tries to make him happy? I'm just confused on what kind of dad he's supposed to be.) No mother is present in the picture.

Octavia: """Loving""" Father (I could talk about this for hours.) We know nothing about her relationship with her mother.

I hope you noticed the pattern I saw. 3 out of 6 characters have bad fathers while their mothers are either dead or out of the picture. Octavia we have no idea what he relationship with her own Mother is. We have hints considering Stolas says that Stella takes Octavia on the weekends. We also have when two times Octavia talks about her mother. Once when she was little and she cries out for her mommy and when in Loo Loo Land she says the her parents didn't use to hate each other. This is all we know. The main pattern is Bad Dad and Loving/Dead mom. I find it weird that 5 out of the 6 characters have no relationship with their mom. (Okay maybe 4 out of 6. I think Lonna can have a excuse.)

Same deal with Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie: Pilot implies that Charlie is closer to her mother while she's drifting her away from her father. (Lucifer cannonically calls Charlie a failure. Vivzie has apparently also claimed that Lucifer is not a good father but he does love Charlie. I don't know about this one though. I would have to do digging.) Now it seems like Lucifer is the better parent while Lilith is the absent Mother. Of course we don't know because the show isn't out yet but we've seen Lucifer more with Charlie than Lilith.

Angel Dust: Has a Shitty Dad with no present mother.

Alastor: Is a mama's boy (that is Canon by the way.) Has no apparent father but is a only child.

That's all we know about Hazbin Hotel parental relationships. Maybe Nifty, Husk, and Vaggie will have present mothers but will have to wait and see. I'm gonna confess something. I really REALLY hope they don't change Charlie's relationship with her parent. I really like the idea of Lilith being the loving attentive parent while Lucifer is the one that begins treating Charlie horrible. This isn't exactly critique but I do wanna make a post about both Stella and Octavia and Charlie, Lilith, and Lucifer.

I would just like Helluva Boss and Hazbin to change it up, make the moms important! Make them loving, them them in their child's lives! I think it would just be neat.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[stevesbipanic]

Billy was not racist. He was trying to protect Max and Lucas both from his father, who would have harmed both of them plus Billy if he knew they were even hanging out let alone romantically involved. Billy was a victim of abuse at the hands of his father, and his mother abandoned him to his father despite knowing what cruelties he would suffer just to save her own ass. Was Billy an asshole? Yes. Was the shitty way he treated people especially Max okay? No, never. Nothing excuses it. But you try living with the sorts of abuses his father heaped on him, and on his mother before she left, and the abuses he would have been heaping on Max's mom too. I have zero doubt that Billy's father r-worded both Billy's mom and later Max's mom because "wifely duties" or some other misogynistic garbage. Billy would have overheard the sounds from it pretty much any time it happened while he was home. You try living with all that and see how YOU turn out. Billy did deserve a redemption arc. He got one of a sort when he sacrificed himself despite "the mindflayer's" control over him, all to save El, Max, Max's mom, and even people he hated. Because he knew what "the mindflayer" had planned. Did you not see Billy's tears when "the mindflayer" was speaking through him? Did you not notice Billy told Karen to stay away from him rather than give in to "the mindflayer" and kill her? Did you not notice Billy flat out lied to his father when his father demanded to know where Max had run off to? There's no way Billy didn't have some kind of clue where to find her. But he lied to his father, to shield her and to shield Lucas, from whatever harm would absolutely have come to them at the hands of Neil Hargrove. Billy is not the embodiment of evil you clearly think he is.

Did Billy somewhat sometimes care about his stepsister? Yes. Did he get abused by his dad? Also yes. These facts don't excuse him from his actions in both seasons 2 and 3.

In our early meetings of Billy he highly threatens to run over the party while they're on their bikes. A normal same human being wouldn't do that. He also beat Steve to the point the kids thought he might be dead. He continued beating Steve even once Steve had been thoroughly knocked out, and likely would've killed Steve if Max hadn't knocked him out.

Also YES HE WAS RACIST WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???? Did you know that Billy's line "certain type of people" in regards to Lucas, was originally a black slur? He was a racist character picking up the trait from yes his abusive dad. Just because his dad was abusive doesn't mean Billy didn't become racist because of his upbringing with him.

You can definitely say that line is to protect Max from abuse from her stepdad if he found out she was talking to a black boy. But it certainly wasn't protecting Lucas, billy couldn't care less about Lucas' safety (SEE TRYING TO RUN HIM OFF THE ROAD).

His character was written to be a bad person, accept this. Characters aren't always written to have redemption arcs or all be good people. He was a racist bully from the 80s with an abusive dad. Just because you think he's hot doesn't change these facts.

Also, abuse doesn't inherently make your character grow up to be a bully. Lonnie Byers is heavily written as an abusive father, even going so far as it was suggested he killed Will in season 1. But neither of the Byers grow up to be bullies. Eleven is brought up in an abusive environment and moves past these traits. Steve's parents are seen as hard on him and in some ways absent and neglectful and besides Jonathan we never see him fight anyone that wasn't for protection.

Billy is the only older character that shows complete disregard for the kids safety. And him dying in st3 doesn't forgive these actions nor rewrite his racist abusive character.

You're allowed to hate characters that are written to be the bad guys. No one attacks anyone for hating Dr Brenner because he's the villain. Many people including myself didn't like Steve in season 1 because he was written to be the popular asshole. Characters are written certain ways for reasons. So go enjoy your self insert fanfiction where you really just want Billy to be a hot ooc. But for the rest of us it's totally fair to hate on one of the villains of the series.