#wait no a bucket of grease is better than him

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

[stormxpadme]

We have a new game going on in our @scoganbingo discord server, called Mood Board Madness. In this, people post various mood boards, inviting other users to post fanworks for them.

What can I say, @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea 's board has been living rent free in my head since last night so I just had to scribble up something real fast :D.

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

"You know, if anyone told me you'd become an even worse neat freak once you get that nuke in your head under control, I'd have asked Hank to never suggest that surgery." Grumbling to himself, a half empty beer bottle on his lips, Logan watched as his boyfriend continued to polish down every inch of the red coating of one of his favorite cars unfazed, instead of doing something actually fun, like spending a Saturday morning off in bed with Logan.

The only positive detail of finding Scott here busy with one of his many obsessions was the fact that his partner had obviously started feeling too hot at some point, spending the morning with one of his beloved wheeled babies and shed his shirt, leaving his well-trained upper body bare save for a few stains of grease and dirt. A mouthwatering sight, just like Scott being bent over the hood of that damn car in a perfect angle to ogle that firm piece of ass Logan happened to be so increasingly fond of … But with Scott so dedicated to this dull activity, all of that was frustratingly out of reach.

"What did you expect?" In a gesture still deeply ingrained in muscle memory, Scott made a move to push up glasses no longer shielding those beautiful sky-blue eyes of his, a slightly embarrassed grin on his lips as he nodded down to the car's perfectly shiny surface. "Now that I can actually see every single stain … This is gonna take a while, Claws; don't wait up. I'll see you at lunch later."

When Logan turned away, lips tight in disappointment and annoyance, he was unexpectedly being hit in the back with that damn polishing rag, uncomfortably cold drops of water and soap dripping down his skin as he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt himself before sniffing down his lover all the way to the garage. Apparently, that subconscious plan of distracting Scott from whatever had driven him out of their shared apartment had worked.

"On second thought? I also happen to see other things far better now. Like your bike being even more of a mess than my car. So why don't you join me here and when we're done, we spend the rest of the morning getting clean in a long hot bath ourselves? Together?"

A broad grin on his lips suddenly, Logan went to find a bucket and cleaning cloths.

[eriquin]

The Trolley Problem, part 45

El uses her powers to make contact with the Upside Down. They have a narrow escape, and then another one, and then a tense conversation.

(master post)

Wayne had brought a bucket of fried chicken and biscuits to the cabin. Steve could smell it as he walked up. He let himself inside and saw El sitting on the floor, devouring a drumstick. Her chin was covered in grease and there were bones on the floor in front of her showing that she’d already eaten at least two other pieces. 

Wayne had his shotgun across his lap, pointed away from El. He nodded at Steve and turned back to watching through the window. “Heard you drive up,” Wayne said. “Help yourself to some chicken.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. He sat down on the floor next to El and fished a thigh out of the bucket. “I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Between the three of them, they polished off the bucket. Steve wrapped the biscuits in a napkin so that El could tuck them into her pocket for later. She was still a mess, but the kitchen sink worked and he made her wash her face before they left. He said something about how Carol would have his head for letting her get messy in the first place.

“How many kids know about what’s going on?” Wayne asked. “Other than you and Ellie here. And Eddie, of course.” 

Steve had to stop to count. “There’s four boys around El’s age. I’m trying to keep them out of it, but the demogorgon came after Will, so I couldn’t keep him from knowing. And of course he told the rest of them. Tommy and Carol showed up right after, so they know. Jonathan is Will’s brother, and he took pictures of the demogorgon for us. Oh, I need to hide those.” He found his backpack and pulled the pictures out. 

Wayne and El both wanted to take a look, so Steve let them hold onto them while he searched for a good hiding place. He found a box labeled ‘Grandpa’ which was full of photo albums, and decided that would work. Wayne had gone a little pale when he saw the demogorgon in the picture, but he nodded and straightened up as he handed the pictures back over. El didn’t seem fazed by it at all.

“Is Carol the girl in the pictures?” he asked. 

“No, that’s Robin. It chased her through the woods before we... Well, you saw the pictures.” 

“But she’s all right?” Steve nodded. “Did you kill it?” 

He frowned. “No, we didn’t. It got away.” He let out a tired sigh. “They’re pretty hard to kill.” He slipped the pictures back into their envelope and put it between two photo albums in the box, then put the box back on top of the stack.

Once that was done, he continued his explanation. “Some other stuff today, too. Nancy got suspicious about stuff, and she saw the photos. Her friend, Barb, was out in the woods with Robin. She got hurt and went to the hospital, so we didn’t have a chance to tell her what was going on. When Nancy tried to go talk to her about it, she was gone. We don’t know where. We think the lab might’ve done something to her and her family.” 

El hung her head and hugged her arms around her chest. “Bad men,” she said softly.

“Hey, now,” Wayne said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right. We’re not gonna let ‘em find you, darlin’.” 

“Yeah, we don’t know what happened,” Steve said. “Nancy’s going to find out, though. She’s real tough, Nancy. You’ll like her.” 

With the photo hidden and the food cleaned up, they decided to head back to the trailer park. El rode with Wayne, and Steve waited a little bit before following, worried that someone would see them coming out of the road to the cabin. It would be better if the place stayed a secret. 

There were two different ways to get to Forest Hills, and Steve figured that Wayne would go south instead of north. It was longer, and went all the way around the town, but it didn’t pass through any neighborhoods so there was less of a chance for someone to see El in his truck. Steve went north instead. He came out of the woods and turned onto the street that cut through town. Coming up the other way were a pair of white vans with blue writing on the side. He only realized that they were from the lab after they went past, but once he did, his heart started to race. 

He had to pull over and catch his breath. Part of him wanted to turn around and make sure they weren’t going after Wayne, or going to Hopper’s cabin. But they were already long past, and he didn’t see which way they went. It would look suspicious if he followed them around, and if he dawdled much longer, he would be late getting to Forest Hills. He pulled back out into the street and kept driving. 

It was well past dark when he got to the park, but he knew the way. He hadn’t been back since the last time he’d been to visit Eddie, which wasn’t that long ago, but felt like a lifetime. Eddie’s van was there. Wayne must have gotten it from where they’d left it, near Dustin’s house. Wayne’s truck was parked next to it, and there were lights on in the trailer. He parked behind the truck and started walking around it. 

One of the streetlights further down the road distracted him when it flickered. He flinched and stared, but it didn’t flicker again. The electricity to the park might have been kind of flaky, and that could explain it, but with all the Upside Down stuff going on right now, it had him on edge. He looked back at the trailer. The living room lights blinked, too. Already geared up to worry, he ran to the door. 

Inside, Wayne and El were sitting in front of a little radio. El had a blindfold on and her nose was bleeding. The living room lights were blinking, but not with the frantic flashing of an imminent monster attack. Instead, they were doing so gently, in time to the voice on the radio. 

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie’s voice asked. “Can you hear me?” 

“Yeah, kid,” Wayne said. His voice cracked a little. “I’m right here. Where are you?” 

Steve felt a little dizzy and realized that he was holding his breath. “Eddie?” he gasped. “You’re alive.” 

The radio crackled with static. “I’m in the trailer,” he said. “But it’s all wrong. All of Hawkins is wrong. I don’t know how to get back.”

“We know, kid,” Wayne said, loud and clear. “We’re gonna figure out how to get you home.”

Something behind Steve caught his eye. He turned and looked through the open door. The streetlights in the park were flickering more now, and the lights in the closest trailers were doing the same. It wasn’t the friendly blinking of a human in the Upside Down, either. “Shit,” he said. “Shit, it’s coming here. Eddie! It’s the demogorgon!”

There was more static from the radio, and Eddie’s voice sounded far away. “Steve?” he asked. “Is that you?”

Steve scrambled forward, leaving the door open. “Eddie! The lights!” 

A loud squeal came from the radio speaker, and then a pop and it sparked. Wayne reached over and yanked the plug from the wall before it sparked any more. He pulled El back from it, too. Her hands were shaking as she pushed the blindfold off.

Steve kept shouting for Eddie to run. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. The lights in the trailer were going crazy. There was a terrible crackling sound, and the wall near the front of the trailer started to buckle. 

He spun around, looking for a weapon. Wayne’s shotgun was nowhere to be seen. “Shit, where are your knives?”

“Are you crazy, son?” Wayne yelled at him. He scooped El off the ground and grabbed Steve with his other hand, dragging him towards the door. Steve stumbled and followed him. The wall started to tear, and the demogorgon let out a horrible screech as they jumped down the stairs and into the yard. 

They ran away from the trailer, with Wayne still carrying El, and only stopped when they got to the picnic table. The lights kept flickering for a moment, then everything went dark. All the lights in the park had gone out. Steve stood back to back with Wayne, sandwiching El between them. “Where is it?” he hissed. 

Just as quickly as it had started, it all stopped. The lights around the park came back on, and there was no monster to be seen. Up the road, though, they could see headlights coming their way. 

“Maybe they’ll keep driving,” Steve said. 

“Hm. Can’t take that chance,” Wayne said. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood off El’s face. “Remember what we talked about, darlin’? You go hide in the woods until it’s clear, all right?” 

El nodded, then started running for the woods behind the trailer park. Steve started to protest, but it stuck in his throat when he realized he knew the vehicle pulling in next to his car. It was Hopper’s Jeep, and the man climbed out of it looking annoyed. He didn’t give any indication that he’d seen El. 

“Hey, Wayne,” Hopper said, eyeing Steve suspiciously. “You been out looking for your boy?” 

“I have,” Wayne said. “How’ve you been doing?”

“I’ve had better weeks.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lit one up. “What’re you doing here, Harrington? Doesn’t seem like your kind of neighborhood.”

Steve felt his face slip into a blank mask. “I was looking for Eddie,” he said. “That’s all.”

“You a friend of his?”

He knew he took too long to respond. “Yeah. We’re friends,” he said. He was pretty sure Hopper would think he was just there looking for drugs, and not involved in whatever happened, but maybe not. He considered that it might be a good time to tell him more about what was going on.

The idea dropped out of his head almost as fast as it came, because coming up the road behind Hopper were a pair of white vans from the lab. They might have been the same he’d seen on the road, but Steve couldn’t tell. He stiffened up and glared at the men in suits that piled out of them. Wayne made himself look busy lighting up a cigarette of his own. It let him cover his mouth as he whispered to Steve. “Terrible disguise, putting suits in work vans.” 

Steve gave him just a tiny nod. He couldn’t help but continue to glare at them. It made sense now that Wayne had warned El to run into the woods. That was good thinking on his part. 

Hopper seemed to recognize the vans as well. “Still tracking down those power grid issues, I take it?” he asked one of the men. 

Steve had no idea who the man was, and he didn’t introduce himself. “We got reports of surges in this park,” he said. He looked around. If there were other people in the park, they were content to watch from inside of their trailers. Wayne, Steve, and Hopper were the only ones here. He singled out Wayne with his next question. “Have you seen any unusual electrical activity around here tonight?”

Wayne took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Sure,” he said. “We’ve been having power surges for ages now. Can’t run the washer and the TV at the same time or you put all the lights out. Gotta say, it’s nice of y’all to show up to look into it.” He gestured down the hill. “Pretty sure the transformers are down that-a-way, if you want to take a look. Now, we have a park handyman, but he ain’t one of them certified electricians. You might want to have your boys make sure it’s all up to code now.” 

The man looked in the direction Wayne pointed. “I see,” he said. He went back to his colleagues and started talking quietly with them.

Hopper came closer to them. He leveled a glare at Steve. “I sent someone by your house today, Harrington,” he said, gruff but quiet enough that the suits from the lab wouldn’t hear him. “Your parents aren’t happy that you didn’t come home after school, and they’ve got a world of questions about the scorch marks in your backyard.”

“I told you what happened there,” Steve said. He kept looking past Hopper’s shoulder at the men by the vans. “It’s just... I’ll go home eventually.”

“Jesus, Harrington. Did those guys run over your dog or something?” Hopper muttered. Steve looked back at him, then at Wayne. “You look like you want to murder them with your mind. What’s up with that?”

Steve grunted and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. “I just don’t trust ‘em.”

“They’re from Hawkins Lab, you know,” Hopper said. 

“I know.”

“You got a reason not to trust Hawkins Lab?” 

Steve snorted. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’re a bunch of lying spooks.”

The men from the lab finished whatever discussion they were having and got back in their vans. One turned around and started back out of the park, while the other kept going down the road, towards where Wayne had pointed. Steve relaxed a little after they left.

Hopper took another drag of his cigarette. “Now, why would you think they’re lying, Harrington?”

Steve glanced back at Wayne. “I mean. They say they’re out here investigating power surges, but they’re not exactly dressed like electricians. Also, who’s out working this late at night? The whole thing stinks.” 

This made Hopper smirk a little at him from behind the cigarette. “That’s a decent observation there, kid,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t be out here this late. We’ve got an epidemic of missing teenagers, you know.”

“I know,” Steve said, not bothering to keep the derision out of his voice. “I’m out here looking for one of them.”

“So you know that Munson’s missing?” 

“Duh,” Steve said. Wayne gave him a sideways glance and then looked back towards the woods. He frowned back and scuffed his shoes in the dirt. “Man, it feels like I snuck around the back of the gym to gossip, with you two standing around smoking. Are you looking for him? He went missing before Heather’s party, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hopper said. “We’re doing the best we can. Spread kind of thin here. Three teenagers have disappeared, plus a couple more hunters never came back from their last trip.” He sighed and looked down the lane, towards where the white vans had gone. “Plus those dickwads driving around, looking for God-knows-what. And that’s not even getting into what happened to Benny.” He looked over at Wayne and jerked his thumb at Steve. “You tell him about that?”

“He already knew,” Wayne said. “Kids talk, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Hopper said. “Kid, is there something you want to tell me about, maybe?”

Steve sighed and looked around. It was too open here, and the lab had been too close. “There’s lots I’d love to tell you about, Hop,” he said. “I can’t, though. You wouldn’t believe me.” 

“Try me.”

He shook his head. “Not here. Though, if you’re still the guy I think you are, you’re halfway to it already.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked back towards the woods one last time. “Think the lab’ll follow me home if I leave?”

“Probably,” said Wayne. “You’re acting awful suspicious.”

“Damn it,” Steve said. He turned back to Hopper. “You should check some of your granddad’s old things. Bet you’d find something interesting there.”

Hopper straightened up, surprise evident on his face. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked. “What do you know, kid?”

“You wouldn’t believe me without proof,” Steve said. “Besides, it’s late. I should head home. My parents are probably going to ground me, you know?” He gave them a little wave as he headed back to his car.

Taglist: @neonfruitbowl

[deada55]

(WIP) To Absent Friends

for kloktober day 30 and 31: HALLOWEEN!!! and creator's choice.

synopsis: Ten-year-old William Murderface goes out with Stella for Halloween (Incomplete work.)

tw/cws: none yet

The sun went down orange past the trees of the trailer park behind the misty gusts of wind. The leaves, too wet to flutter, piled up around puddles and slicked up the sparse gravel and gray, sandy dirt that wound through the lots. Groups of parents and little kids sojourned through the misery with as much jubilance as possible. Little princesses holding their dresses up like Cinderella and little superheroes and animals splashed in the shallower puddles.

“William, quit moping! I’m taking you trick-or-treating in just a minute, dammit!”

“Aw, Grandma! I wasn’t!” The knot in his stomach tightened as he pulled his red sweatshirt down and his red sweatpants up over and over, alternating between the two. Neither of them fit right, but they were the only red things he had that made sense to wear with the plastic devil horns Stella had picked up from the grocery store. His fork was a barbeque fork spray-painted red… that was his favorite part, because he was allowed to do it himself, but the paint was already chipping off the thin sides.

He faced the window at an angle, away from the decorative mirror in the corner to his right. His shirt kept riding up, but this time he let his lower be cold. To his left, Stella turned Thunderbolt on his side and brushed the sores on his shoulderblades with iodine with a spare oral sponge.

“Pull your damn shirt down. Don’t leave your fat meat out like that, it’s not polite.”

William reached behind himself and shoved it down.

“Don’t get an attitude with me or I won’t take you nowhere!”

When some kids he recognized from school appeared walking up the road towards his trailer, he ducked away from the window and started towards the bathroom.

“William, wait. Dump the urinal while you’re at it.”

“Jesus Christ…”

He bent down to get the full urinal from under the bed and Stella smacked him on the back of the neck. “Don’t be nasty like that when I ask you to do something! When I ask you to help out, you do it. Don’t run your mouth, you hear me?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need to go back to speech class… Remind me to talk to your principal about that. Go dump that out and do whatever you gotta do.”

He came back with a rinsed urinal and set it back under the bed. Thankfully, his classmates had gone by, and the only people he could see through the window was a girl, her father, and their pit bull with grease paint on his face and body to make him look like a skeleton… at least his front half.

When it was time to leave, Stella slung her heavy, rattling purse over her shoulder and grabbed her cane. Without a word, William unlocked the door and made his way out, holding the outer door so Stella could back down the rickety aluminum stairs without scratching herself on its the sharp corners of the door’s trim. When she was out, she handed him her keys and he ran back up to lock it, and then they went to the car.

Her car was an old Oldsmobile that bled coolant when it was parked downhill. Stella lit a cigarette as they went down the road and the smell slowly steeped into the air in the crumbling, beige cab until it was hot and smoky, not only musty with dry rot. He laid his head against the window though the vibrations made him carsick. His Halloween pillowcase was empty and smooth in his lap napkin at a church banquet. The rusty trailer park became dusty town, the dusty town became the moldy suburb, and the moldy suburb became grassy fields and tracks of land where loggers had cleared the forest naked. The hills faded into black dunes between piney graveyards, full of stumps in place of headstones. Stars poked through the sky. Back at the park, little kids were probably no longer traipsing through the neighborhoods. It was the time for the kids in scary costumes to run amok. Going with Grandma was better than getting a bucket of creek water poured over him, and better than sitting at home. At least Grandma’s friends had candy.

When they got to Denise’s stuffy pink cottage, Stella made him ring her sun-faded doorbell. A little dog barked and howled at the other side of the door. Stella moved off the front step with William and back at the sidewalk so she could lean more comfortably on her cane without teetering backwards. The dog carried on and on.

Denise wore a nursing jacket and an embroidered floral sweatshirt on top of some purple sweatpants and cotton slippers. A spot of canned chili stained her knee.

“Say it,” Stella prodded his heel with the shoe of her cane.

“Trick or Treat?”

“I think you’re too old for that.”

“Denise-“

“Oh, Stella! Hi! I knew you were coming by, but I didn’t remember when.”

“This is my grandson, William.”

“Okay,” Denise glanced at him then held the door open for Stella. William stepped aside and followed her in through the house. Nothing was particularly clean. Dusty candles and overflowing ashtrays lined her hall table, coffee table, dining table, corner tables… The pictures and paintings on the cream wallpaper were bordered by an orange, fumey stain.  The dog’s puppy pads were tucked behind or under almost every piece of furniture and well-decorated with waste. The scratched pink-and-green camelback sofas were reasonably clean, and Denise sat in an impression surrounded by tissues, catalogs, toffee wrappers, generic pill bottles, and Chapstick, with Stella catty-corner on the other sofa, and William on Stella’s other side, by a stack of dingy newspapers.

They talked for a long time. The wedding clock on top of her TV cabinet was stuck somewhere around 3:00 from what William could see. He sat there with his hands on his pillowcase and his pillowcase in his lap, shirt riding up and pants inching down. The longer he looked at the carpet, the hairier it got. Shed fur built around the legs of the sofa like spiderwebs.

His grandmother and Denise began the talking waltz of trying to leave, but Denise was clearly cutting it shorter than usual by the suddenness Stella was compelled to stand. Her knees popped loud enough for William to hear as she picked up her fallen cane and handed it to her… and Denise was already opening her front door! Of course, the plastic outer door wasn’t open yet, so all the wind could do was shake it against its frame.

When they got back into the car, Stella grumbled to herself, burped, and looked into her rearview mirror at William while she shifted out of park.

“That was nice, wasn’t it? What candy did she give you?”

“Nothin’.”

She stopped the car right there and sat quiet. Then, she dug a hand into her purse and pulled out a couple strawberry jelly-filled hard candies.

“Here, sweetheart.”

[amunisence]

Nevada isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us

Rogue Player AU: Prologue Finale

Madness: Project Nexus Self Aware AU belongs to saltymongoose

I was also inspired by Purgatory Mode - New Player AU by dallyfae

Check them both out they're phenomenal! Story is on an indefinite hiatus.

CW: Violence, obsessive behavior(?)/toxicity(?)

POV has officially switched to the New Player now. This is the last part of the prologue, so check out Parts 1 & 2 if you missed them! :)

<<First Next>>

Christoff braces himself to look up at the figure standing before him. His eyes flash with realization, "New...Player..." he reaches up and grasps his halo offering it to the figure, "Nevada needs...a savior."

Player 2 has joined the game.

---

The corrupted Player had stirred up some turmoil between the Auditor's fellow Employers and himself. He had it coming though; it was his idea to bring the Player to Nevada in the first place.

Collectively, the other Employers agreed on a "fix it or else" approach to the Auditor's mess, a bucket of water poured onto the grease fire that is Nevada. While it would be easier to confront the Player himself, his own convenience didn't outweigh the risk of them gaining access to the improbability drive.

Before the Player's corruption, this wasn't a concern. Only the intended vessels could go under the influence of the strings. Now, however, the strings have virtually unlimited targets for this power—which includes the Auditor himself. He has taken note of a subtle weakness: it has an awfully limited range compared to before.

The Auditor had long contemplated the corrupted Player's role in Nevada. He determined that the Player is an invasive species—they are far from native and now cause harm to what little an "ecosystem" Nevada has. Since the grunts can hardly leave a scratch on them, the Player's power remains unchallenged.

While ruminating on Nevada's ecosystem, a wild idea popped into his head. With haste, he broke from his deliberation to investigate his console; he had to find out the logistics of bringing another player to Nevada.

---

You start up Project Nexus only to be prompted by an unusual message:

"Player, we need your help. A new enemy threatens to take over and destroy Nevada as we know it. Will you help us?"

Admittedly, the message was weird. It held a different weight and was oddly serious. It was almost "out of character" for the game. Despite the red flags, you agree to help. There must have been an update you missed, right? Suddenly, ones and zeros dot your vision as it fades to black.

You regain consciousness in front of...the Auditor?

"I don't have time to explain how you got here. There's another player here in Nevada like you. This player is incredibly hostile and can't be stopped with normal means. Only you can stop them."

The Auditor goes on to explain your powers and your newly imposed mission to stop Player 1's rampage for power. He has a hunch that PVP could be a viable option to deal with the other player since it was unlikely any grunt could stand toe to toe with them.

With another frustrating "there's no time to explain", the Auditor spawns you inside the MERC building Player 1 was last seen in. You are submerged in the darkness of a hallway with few windows. Did the power go out? Faintly down the hall, you hear some voices and blindly follow them. Eventually, you make out some figures by one of the windows. You're able to recognize Christoff and Sheriff by their halo and cowboy hat respectively. Hank takes a bit longer to pick out; you only notice his red goggles once he turns around. Wait...is he staring right at you?

You had managed to close the distance between you and them much sooner than you expected. So soon, it only just hit you how nervous you are—suddenly finding yourself wishing this meeting had happened under better circumstances. You raise a trembling hand towards Hank whose stare only added to your anxiety. Iridescent strings materialize over Hank just as the Auditor said. You attempt to guide him closer to you with shocking success. Once he's close enough you whisper, "I'm here to help."

"Who are you?" Hank rasps reflexively holding his knife to your neck as he towers over you. The height difference is certainly astonishing, but hearing him speak for the first time ever left you stunned. Unsurprisingly, he had a voice raw and coarse from lack of use.

"I'm Player 2. I- I mean the new player," you stumble, "The Auditor brought me here to um…stop the other player." As you spoke, Sheriff's cowboy hat poked out from behind Hank. "Sheriff?"

"I heard everything darlin', and I'd be more than happy to lend a hand!" Sheriff pipes up with hushed enthusiasm. Hank (who's internally cringing from Sheriff's eagerness) reluctantly grunts in agreement.

---

With your influence, the grunts were able to make a stand against Player 1.

First, Sheriff was able to land a bullet on the player. This allowed Hank to shatter the ebony strings wound around Christoff. Unfortunately, there were enough strings still attached for Player 1 to fling him into the ceiling. Now, an injured Christoff is offering his halo to you—implying you're Nevada's "savior".

Player 2 has joined the game.

That must be the Auditor. You take it as a sign and graciously take the keystone fragment from Christoff.

"N̶͉̦̓̚O̸͈͆̋̓!̸͈͐̾͐" the other player cries out.

You ignore them and hold it above your head. An intense light radiates from the halo before a white iridescent version is left in its place. Now, you sense the aura of the keystone fragment within your being.

"Leave," you demand.

The other player only looks you in the eye with resentment, refusing you the satisfaction of a verbal response. They shuffle back onto their feet and dissolve into the shadows.

The others crowd around you in awe of your incredible feat. From behind a grainy screen, the Auditor watches you celebrate.

"This better work," he groans, rubbing his face in anguish as he walks away from his console.

A/N: Now we have Audi's perspective in the AU! There was quite a bit of exposition this time around. I wanted to show that the characters have different names for Rogue Player based on their perspective. It was a fun detail that I loved adding in hehe

I do plan on writing more for the AU in the present now that the prologue is finished :)

Hope you enjoyed!

<<First Next>>

[naaema]

Naaema talking about important issues of 2017

Warning: loud screaming, crying, shrieking, cursing, yelling, Bawling, wailing, weeping and anger are implied in this. Read at your own risk ~ Naaema

Note: no vases or tables were harmed in the making of this.

Ok, so Im just gonna dump this here, becuase some people need it tbh. *breaths in* *breathes out*

REGULUS BLACK IS THE SLYTHERIN HERO I AM SLYTHERIN DON’T FUCKING ARGUE WITH ME ON THIS.

REGULUS BLACK FUCKING DIED IN A CAVE BY CORPSES DROWNING HIM JUST SO VOLDEMORT CAN FALL AND FUCKING DIE. HE FUCKING DIED LIKE THAT. AT EIGHT-FUCKING-TEEN.

WHAT HE DID = THAT FUCKING HELL.

HIS PARENTS DRAGGED HIM INTO THIS ENTIRE FUCKING EDGY FIASCO THAT HE NEVER WANTED TO JOIN. HE BECAME A DEATH EATER AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE. HE WAS SO FUCKING SCARED . YET HE HAD THE COURAGE TO FUCKING DEFY VOLDEMORT LIKE THAT. HE DIDN’T NEED A FUCKING BULSHITING LOVE STORY THAT HAS NO LOVE IN IT TO REDEEM HIMSELF. UNLIKE SOME GREASY BITCH.

I’ll say it once

I’ll say it twicE

👏👏👏👏👏

REGULUS

👏👏👏👏👏

ARCTURUS

👏👏👏👏👏

BLACK

👏👏👏👏👏

IS

👏👏👏👏👏 THE

👏👏👏👏👏 SLYTHERIN

👏👏👏👏👏 HERO

👏👏👏👏👏 SNIVELLUS CAN CATCH THESE HANDS. HE IS NOT THE FUCKING SLYTHERIN HERO EJEITOFIWFICIRIEI IM STILL SHOOK AT HOW SOME PEOPLE COULD FORGIVE HIM

GGGKGKSKSKFJ HE ISN’T THE FUCKING SLYTHERIN HERO

DJIREOAOOXH SALAZAR IS UGLY CRYING IN HIS GRAVE

JTIFIDIW GODRIC IS FIGHTING OTHER CORPSES

FUEISIDJCN ROWENA IS CONTEMPLATING A SECOND DEATH

XUEIWOCO HELGA IS BAKING A PIE

I’M SO FUCKING PISSED HOW CAN PEOPLE REDEEM THIS EXCUSE OF A HUMAN. SEVERE-ILLNESS SNAPE LITERALLY ABUSES A CHILD FOR 6 YEARS, AND HIS ONLY REASON TO DO THAT IS THAT THE KIDS FUCKING DEAD MOTHER MARRIED ANOTHER MAN. WHO IS ALSO DEAD. AND CRYING IN HIS GRAVE. HE IS WHAY A BOGGART TAKES FORM OF WHEN CONFRONTED WITH A CHILD.

FUCKING HELL HE WAS A CHILD’S NIGHTMARE. NEVILLE LONGBOTTOMS BIGGEST FEAR IS HIS TEACHER.

HE CALLED THE WOMAN HE LOVES A M*DBLOOD???!?!? IF THAT’S LOVE THEN THAT’S SOME HARLEY N JOKER SHIT. ABUSIVE SHIT.

*PUNCHES TABLE* DUWIGOWPIS NANNF LEOWQPPFVK

HOW CAN PEOPLE LOVE HIM AND MAKE FANFICTION ABOUT HIM.

PEOPLE WISH THEY COULD MEET HIM. I WOULD FUCKING BARF?? I DON’T WANT NO SLIMEY SONOFABITCH NEAR ME. GET THE BUG SPRAY PLS.

ALSO; THIS IS SOMETHING A LOT OF PEOPLE FORGET. PETER PETTIGREW IS NOT THE ONLY PERSON WHO RATTED OUT LILY AND JAMES. FUCKING SLIMEU OVER HERE TOLD VOLDEMORT THAT HE HEARD DUMBLEDORE SPEAK OF A CHILD WITH A POWER TO OVERCOME HIM AND HE ASSUMED IT WAS LILY’S UNBORN SON.

*BREAKS A VASE* THE FUCKING SLIMEY DIRTBAG IS HALF THE REASON WHY LILY AND JAMES ARE ROTTING IN A GRAve. THAT IS THE ENTIRE FUCKING REASON TO HATE HIS SLIMY GOOEY GUTS.

FIWOEOGIXJWJTKC AFTER THAT, THE JERKASS OBVI FELT BAD, SO HE TOLD DUMB-LEDORE TO SAVE LILY. KEYWORD = LILY. HE DIDN’T FUCKING GIVE A FLYING FUCKING FUCK ABOUT LILY’S HUSBAND AND CHILD. JUST LILY.

THIS IS FUCKED UP IM SCREAMING IN FISH LANGUAGE?!?!?! THE ONLY REASON HE DID THIS WAS BECAUSE HE WAS PATHETICALLY IN LOVE WITH A GIRL WHO DUMPED HIM BECAUSE HE WAS A DICK TO HER?!?!?! FUCKING FUCK.

IF VOLDEMORT HAD ASSUMED THAT NEVILLE WAS THE CHOSEN ONE, NOT HARRY, HE FUCKING WOULD NOT HAVE CARED AT ALL. HE WOULDVE CONTINUED LIFE BEING A DEATH EATER. KILLING MUGGLES LEFT AND RIGHT. WEEPING OVER LILY TO HIS EMPTY CONDITIONER BOTTLES. HE WOULD HAVE DONE NOTHING “AMAZING” AND WE WOULDN’T HAVE THIS CONVERSATION .

ALSO,,,,,, SEVERE-ILLNESS OVER HERE KNEW THAT TO BE AN AUROR ONE WOULD NEED TO GET AN O *OUTSTANDING* ON ALL THEIR O.W.L’S. SO HE LOWERED HARRY’S GRADE BY A TAD. JUST SO THE POOR BOY COULD SUFFER.

ROEPGIEKWMFMXMAJC *SCREAMS* THIS EXCUSE OF A LONELY , OLD AND EXPIRED MAN HAS NOTHING BETTER TO DO IN HIS LIFE SO HE KILLS PEOPLE AND BULLIES CHILDERN.

GOYLE MADE HERMOINE’S TEETH GROW HUGE AND SLIMEBALL LOOKED HER IN THE EYE AND SAID HE SEES NO DIFFERENCE?!?!?!?

THE GIRL PUT A PERMENANT SPELL TO MAKE HER TEETH SMALLER?!?!? JUST BECUASE OF HER TEACHER,!,?!?! WHAT A BASTARD.

I could go on writing on how snape is a trashy bucket of grease *my favorite pass-time hobby* but my thumbs hurt a lot rn, so there will be a continuation of this. If you support my movement, just pm me and we’ll talk shit about severe-illness over here.

Naaema , out *drops mic*

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Soft Pretzel

A request by @ittoehurt in which the reader has been feeling sick lately and finds out they are pregnant with Peter’s kid. But she isn't sure if he would even want to have a kid with her. I put my own little twist on it, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None really, mostly pure fluff, a little angst

Word count: 1780

You were currently huddled over a toilet throwing your soft pretzel up. Jubilee was with you holding your hair back. “I’m so sorry Jubilee.” You choked out in between your sickness. You laid your head against the toilet bowl, much to her protests. 

“No honey it’s okay.” She reassured you by moving your head from the public toilet to lay on her shoulder. You wrapped your arms around your stomach as if willing it to keep down your food. 

“You can leave me here, go have fun with Kurt and the gang.” You smiled weakly and she just softly shook her head at you.  You guys were supposed to be having a fun day at the carnival,  when you suddenly felt sick and rushed off to the bathroom. Peter had wanted to go with you but Jubilee insisted that he couldn't just go into a woman’ bathroom like that. 

“I am not leaving you here. You know that.” She brushed your hair away from your face. “I told you not to eat that carnival food, it always makes me sick.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of even eating anything at the pop up carnival. Especially when she  saw the buckets of grease that everything was marinating in. Peter had eaten something from every stand as you guys had walked around together and he was in no mindset to stop soon. But for once he felt his appetite disappear as he waited for you outside of the bathroom. His foot anxiously tapping against the pavement. 

Truth be told you knew it wasn’t the pretzel was what had made you so sick. You had woken up on many occasions recently hurling into a toilet, you were always careful to never wake Peter up when you slipped out of bed to spill your guts. It had been a while since your last period as well. Your suspicions were confirmed when you took a pregnancy test a couple days ago. You had driven to the store to buy one after your morning classes. Peter wasn't home in your shared apartment when you took it, and when you saw those two lines appear you knew you were screwed. You had sat in the bathroom for god knows how long crying a mix of tears.

You and Peter had been together for a while now. You had met him in high school in your science class, he was your lab partner. He cracked some dumb chemistry joke and you fell in love with him right then and there. You guys started dating and at homecoming he admitted that he was a mutant, he had been so nervous on how you would react. He loved you so much and he hated the idea of ruining it because he was different. But you could care less, you told him that it didn't change the way you felt about him and when you said you thought his superspeed was really cool he was whipped. You guys had been together a couple years now, you had even taken the next step and moved in together, not wanting to spend the rest of your days making out in his mom’s basement. He had become a member of the x-men and you took classes at the local university. Everything seemed so perfect. And now there was a chance of ruining it all. You and Peter were in your early 20’s you two hadn’t even talked about having children, heck you hadn't even thought about it yourself. You didn't even know if he would want a kid with you, he was so young and this was both of yours first relationship. You felt as if you were going to tie him down to something he never even wanted. 

You bit your lip debating on telling Jubilee what had been bugging you for the past few weeks. She saw your brow furrowed and turned to face you. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again.” She got up to leave. “I’ll go get you some water.” You grabbed her hand before she could leave. 

“The pretzel isn't what made me sick.” You admitted quietly, curling into yourself even more. She silently urged you to go on, sitting back down and taking your hands in hers. 

“I’m pregnant,” You admitted, staring at your lap, not wanting to meet her eyes, in fear that you would see disappointment in them. 

The bathroom was eerily quiet until Jubilee let out a happy squeal and tackled you in a hug. You nearly fell over onto the floor. 

“Omg (y/n)!!! You and Peter are going to have a kid together!! They’re going to be so cute! Especially if they look like you, I don’t know how they’ll look if they get Peter’s genes.” She rambled happily. You let out a little laugh at her excitement, but your heart was still heavy. 

She calmed herself down and her tone turned serious. “Have you told Peter yet?’

You fiddled with your hands. “No I haven’t.”

“How come?’ It wasn’t a judgmental question that Jubilee asked and you could sense the question was more for your benefit than for his. 

“I just don't know he would even want a kid with me. We’re both so young and I don’t want to trap him into a relationship he never wanted.” You admitted, tears threatening to form.

“Oh Honey.” Jubilee pulled you into a tight hug. “Peter loves you so much, I just know he would want a kid with you. It might be a shock but he’s talked about spending his life with you.”

“Really?” 

“Yes really, that boy is so whipped for you it’s so funny.” She joked as she pulled away. She wiped your tears away gently and helped you off the floor. “You should tell him though, it's only fair.” You nodded your head in agreement and you excited the stall together. 

“Can you give me a minute to fix myself? I look like a mess.” You laughed. 

“Sure.” Jubilee left you alone to tidy yourself in the mirror. The minute she stepped out of the bathroom Peter bombarded her with questions.

“How is she? Is she okay? Does she wanna go home?” 

“Chill out she’s fine.” Jubilee replied, trying her best to hide her smile. She turned to Kurt and the rest of the gang. “Let’s go get a spot to watch the fireworks, (y/n) and Peter will catch up later.” 

They left Peter to his thoughts and he began to wonder why she wanted to leave you two all alone. The longer he sat there the more his thoughts drifted to negative ones. You came out a couple minutes later and Peter was immediately by your side. “Hey I missed you, are you okay?” You smiled at him nervously and took his hand in yours. “We need to talk.” Peter felt his heart stop at those words, but squeezed your hand in response. 

You led him over to an empty bench that was at some distance from the rest of the crowd. “Peter I-”

Before you could even continue Peter interrupted you. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asked in a small voice. 

“What no.” You cupped his face with both your hands. “No, nothing like that I could never break up with you. I love you too much.” You kissed him softly and he returned it. You pulled away running your thumb absentmindedly across his cheek. He moved his hand to cup yours. 

“What is it then?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest, drowning out all the noise around you. 

You wet your lips before meeting his gaze. “I’m pregnant Peter.” You were met with silence and immediately you took it as a rejection and started to ramble. “It’s yours but don't worry I’m not asking for anything and if you don’t want to have the kid I can raise them on my own. I can go back with my parents and I-”

“You're pregnant?” Peter repeated softly a smile starting to form on his lips. “I’m going to be a dad.” You nodded your head silently. “I’m going to be a dad!” He screamed lunging towards you and picking you up. He spun you around in circles, his head buried in the crook of your neck. 

“Peter!” You squealed. He gently set you back down and held your face in his hands. 

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? (y/n) I couldn't be happier!” Your face broke out in a smile. “I love you so much, we’re going to be amazing parents!” He took you back in his arms, holding you tight and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulder. “We have to tell the gang!”

Peter wanted to get there as fast as possible but settled for walking when he realized that the sudden speed might upset your stomach. “Peter I’m not that delicate.” You protested. 

“Not taking any chances babe! You’re carrying very precious cargo!” He rubbed your stomach slightly as if there was a bump there already. You let out a light laugh and he pulled you even closer. When you met up with the rest of the gang the fireworks had already started. Peter scared everybody by shouting at the top of his lunges that he was going to be a dad. He slapped Scott on the back with a hearty laugh nearly knocking his sunglasses off.

 “Watch it, Maximoff.” Jean stifled a laugh next to him. “Good luck spending the rest of your life with that idiot.”

You laughed and and Peter whined. “Babeeee.” 

Jubilee pulled you into a side hug, watching as Peter told random strangers that he was going to be a Dad, they just awkwardly congratulated him and he smiled proudly. “I see he took the news well.” 

“What!” Peter exclaimed as he sped back to your side. “You told Jubilee before me!” He proclaimed with mock hurt. You just rolled our eyes and nudged him playfully. 

“Yeah cause she likes me better!” Jubilee joked pulling you closer to her. 

Peter yanked you back to his side. “Not in a million years Lee.” He kissed the top of your head. You guys settled onto the grass with the rest of the group, you leaned back into Peter’s chest. He rested his head in the cook of your neck inhaling your scent. “Thank you.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes at his soft touch. “For what?”

You felt him smile and hug you closer, hands resting gently on your stomach. “For giving me everything I could have ever wanted.”

[redrobbingabank]

Syndicate Foster AU Chapter One

No one knew much about Philza Minecraft. Ranboo was pretty sure that that was because Philza Minecraft wanted it that way, and what Philza Minecraft wanted, he got. 

Not in a bad way. The man was a good one, an oxymoron in the world of rich people Ranboo saw on the news when he bothered to watch it. He didn’t come up often––that’s what happens when you choose not to be known––but Ranboo had yet to see him wrapped up in any sort of scandal.

The list of unknowns about Philza was long to anyone outside his circle, and for Ranboo, it had just gotten longer. As he sat in the chair outside the social worker’s office, purple backpack hugged close in his lap, he couldn’t get the question out of his mind: Why in the world would some billionaire choose to foster a teenager?

Fostering anyone was enough of a question. Fostering a sixteen year old, only two years away from ageing out, was downright baffling.

Ranboo picked at a hangnail. It didn’t matter how he turned it over in his head. It just didn’t make sense. The whole thing felt far too weird, and not nearly real enough.

He looked past his worn out sneakers to the hallway around him. The linoleum floor was peeling where it met the wall, and the wall’s paint wasn’t faring much better. Everything was the same shade of grey, like snow when it turned into slush. Through the confused haze filling his mind, Ranboo hoped Philza’s house had some sort of color.

The door opening next to him made Ranboo jump. His social worker stepped out first, followed by Philza. Ranboo shot to his feet, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Philza smiled at him. “You ready to go, mate?” He was shorter than Ranboo. Ranboo did not like being taller than Philza Minecraft.

He nodded silently. Philza had a manilla folder in his hand. Ranboo’s file, holding everything the system needed him to know about the kid he was fostering. Ranboo had never actually gone through it himself. He’d never had a reason to, but now, knowing someone else had seen it, he was curious. What did it say? Did it list his problems? If it did, was his insomnia one of them?

His social worker smiled at him. “You’re all set, Ranboo,” she said. “I hope you have a good experience.” The last part was quiet, meant for Ranboo alone. There was no reason to plant doubt in Philza’s head about his parenting skills.

Ranboo felt his throat closing up. He’d never been around Ms. Parks much, past the times she handled his movements between houses, but she was still the most constant figure in his life. “Thanks, Ms. Parks,” he said tightly. 

Philza gestured towards the elevator. Time to leave again, to go blindly to a new home with no idea how long it would last. Tightening his grip on the backpack’s strap, Ranboo led the way in and pressed the button for the ground floor. They were quiet on the way down, on the walk through the lobby, out the doors, and to the black limousine waiting out front. Philza gestured for Ranboo to get in first, then sat down across from him.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he asked, nodding at the backpack.

Ranboo, who’d become a little transfixed by the striped green bucket hat Philza hadn’t taken off since… ever, actuall, now that he thought about it, scrambled to answer. “I––uh––yeah.” He glanced down at the bag self-consciously. Was it not enough? Was he supposed to have more?

Philza didn’t look mad at him. He just smiled and said, “We’ll go get you some more stuff soon, then.” 

Ranboo froze. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, Mr. Minecraft, it’s fine, really. I don’t need anything else––”

Philza held up a hand, and Ranboo fell silent. “First, you can just call me Phil, mate. Second, I want to. We need to get you a uniform for school too, and a laptop, I bet.”

A laptop? A uniform? Ranboo was starting to wish they’d told him what being fostered by Philza Minecraft would involve. “I’m sorry… a school uniform? Why do I need a uniform?” Panic started climbing in his throat. He’d assumed that he’d just be going to the same school he’d attended for the past few years.

Apparently, Phil planned differently. “You’re going to go to Kinoko High School,” he explained. “It’s where Techno and Niki go to school. Speaking of, are you ready to meet them? Do you have any questions?”

Technoblade and Niki Nihachu, Phil’s two adopted children. No one knew where they’d come from. The two were unrelated, but shared the same shockingly pink hair and hatred for the media. Unfortunately for Ranboo, that hatred cut off his mental profile there. Everything else on the internet about the two was speculation and rumors. Actually… 

“Is it true that Niki punched a reporter once?” he asked tentatively.

He’d been worried Phil would get defensive. It wasn’t really his business, after all, what the Minecraft children did. But, much to his surprise, Phil laughed. “It is,” he said. “But the reporter had it coming. She’s really very nice when you get to know her, as long as you’re not a dick.”

Naturally, Ranboo immediately began going through everything he’d ever done to see if he’d committed some terrible atrocity that had slipped through the cracks in his memory. He was tempted to ask what exactly the reporter had done, just to compare it to his life, but decided to leave it alone for the day, and offered a weak chuckle of his own to match Phil’s.

“Techno’s a good kid too, of course,” Phil added. “Just… they’re both a bit quiet. They’ll probably give you plenty of space.”

“Oh.” Ranboo bobbed his head, hoping it would suffice as a reaction. It was actually a relief to hear that he wouldn’t be expected to integrate into the role of sibling immediately. The day was already making him tired, and the feeling only intensified as he looked ahead to his arrival at the house. House? He suddenly realized he didn’t know where Phil lived.

“Where are we driving?” he asked, looking out the window. It was all the same buildings he knew, rising above eye level into the sky. Secretly, he hoped for a house somewhere a little away from the city. A big backyard sounded cool. And a dog. A dog would be nice.

Alas, it wasn’t meant  to be. “Pog Tower,” Phil said. “We’ve got the penthouse at the top.” The route they’d been driving towards the center of the city suddenly made sense.

“Oh,” Ranboo said, and sank a little farther into the seat cushions. Not that he wasn’t grateful. It would be better than the monotones of the group home, at least. Maybe they had a cat, or a fish. It would be great.

His time to convince himself of that dwindled even faster as the limo pulled into the semicircle drive in front of the tower. Big plants lined the sidewalk and stairs, flowy green leaves going all the way to the big revolving glass doors. Ranboo had the sudden feeling that his stomach had dropped into hell and left the rest of him behind.

His legs felt like nerveless attachments as he got out of the car, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. Phil walked around the car and stopped next to him. He glanced at Ranboo. “Ready?”

Considering how much he felt like an ant right now, Ranboo was getting very scared of how much time he was going to spend at the top of this building. What if he fell out a window? How long would it take him to hit the ground and become a grease spot?

“Yeah,” he said, and cringed. His voice had gone up an octave.

Phil gave him a sympathetic look. “Let’s go, then,” he said kindly, and led the way inside.

The lobby was even nicer than the entrance. The floor was all marble tile, spanning what had to be at least half the bottom floor of the tower. A receptionist sat at a kiosk-desk-thing in the center of the room. It had a top made of smooth black glass. Behind her, an elevator with gold-looking doors taller than Ranboo was centered in the wall.

Phil walked past the receptionist with a smile and a nod, which she returned. On his way past, Ranboo tried to mimic the greeting, but it ended up as an awkward ducking of his head. The receptionist smiled anyway. She was paid to do that.

Just that small screw up made the trip to the elevator feel like an eternity. It was an astronomical relief when the doors shut, Phil leaning forward to insert a key into the slot beside the switchboard and press the button that would take them to the top floor. 

“You don’t need to talk to anyone if you don’t want to, when you’re coming in,” he told him when he straightened back up, slipping the key back into his suit pocket. 

“Oh. Cool.” In Ranboo’s head, he sighed loudly. It was probably just him, but he felt like living on the tower was going to take a lot more social interaction than he was used to.

The elevator ascended fast enough to give Ranboo the free-fall sensation of a roller coaster before slowing down and stopping with a pleasant ding!. Ranboo had time to exhale once more before the doors were sliding open, and he was greeted by a living room bigger than the cafeteria at the group home, currently occupied by two teenagers arguing over a binder on the glass coffee table. At the elevator’s chime, they abruptly cut off. The girl slammed the binder shut, and they both turned to face him.

Niki Nihachu and Technoblade looked as similar as they were different. Niki came up to Techno’s shoulder. She had on a black sweater and jeans, pink hair falling loose around her shoulders. Her build was that of a distance runner’s. Ranboo vaguely remembered some old photo posted of her at a track meet.

Technoblade had a pair of thin-framed glasses and grey sweats. His braided hair was long enough that when he’d spun around, it whipped over his shoulder. Dark bags hung under his eyes, though they were sharp and analytical as he looked at Ranboo. The crumpled Monster cans next to him offered an explanation.

No one spoke for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, Phil waved. “Hey guys, this is Ranboo.” Ranboo felt a piece of his soul shrivel up and die.

Techno and Niki looked at Phil. They looked at Ranboo, then looked at each other. Then, the two lifted their hands and gave him a perfectly synchronized wave. Were they sure they weren’t twins? “Hey, Ranboo,” Niki said.

“Um. Hi. Did you guys practice that?” Ranboo asked nervously, clutching the backpack’s strap tighter. 

“Yeah,” Techno said, grinning. Ranboo felt slightly less scared. “We thought it was funny.”

Ranboo bobbed his head wordlessly. What could he say? If he’d been watching and not scared out of his mind, he’d agree. 

“Guys, maybe avoid the pretending to be psychically connected for a few days,” Phil said.

“This happens often?” Ranboo squeaked.

Niki shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

The pair hadn’t moved from in front of the coffee table, both in positions that prevented Ranboo from looking at the binder they’d been fighting over. He glanced between the two, but their faces betrayed nothing except for calm friendliness.

“Well,” Phil interrupted the silence, stepping to the side, “Your room is upstairs. I can show you where it is, and you can hang out up there or down here until dinner. It’s whatever you want, really.”

Thank god, an opportunity to hide. Ranboo almost led the way to the stairs, but stopped himself. “Sure,” he said. Then to Techno and Niki, “It was nice meeting you.” Was that okay to say to new siblings? It was probably stupid.

Niki grinned. It was a sharp expression on her face. “Nice to meet you too.” She and Techno watched Phil and Ranboo until they were at the top of the stairs, then turned back to the binder and started arguing again in whispers. Ranboo resisted the urge to glance back. 

At the top of the stairs, Phil led him down a short hallway and stopped at the second door on the left. “Since we weren’t sure what you like, we left it mostly plain,” he said. “We can decorate it and stuff soon, though.”

“I’m sure it’s great how it is,” Ranboo said.

“Nah, it’s boring. I want you to like it.” Phil stuck his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, we’ll be around. If you want to hang out or need anything, just come tell one of us. You can do whatever until dinner. I’ll send Techno up when it’s ready.”

“Awesome.” Ranboo gave him one last smile and waited in the center of the room until Phil left, closing the door behind him. He sighed. Dear god, that was exhausting. Maybe he’d actually be able to sleep tonight.

There wasn’t much to do on his own. Ranboo set his bag down on the dresser and tossed the sets of clothing inside without much care how they landed. Then, he launched himself onto the bed and just… kind of laid there.

He wasn’t even sure what to think about. The house? How big it was? How it actually seemed kind of like a home, and not some rich person’s museum-slash-autobiography? Whatever Niki and Techno were arguing about? They definitely didn’t want either Ranboo or Phil to know what it was.

Ranboo closed his eyes. Purple spots floated behind his eyelids. Sometimes, he liked to try to watch the patterns, but it usually ended with feeling like he was free falling through the void.

A knock on the door jolted Ranboo out of sleep. “Yeah? Uh, come in?” he called.

The door creaked open just enough for him to see one of Techno’s eyes. “Dinner,” he said.

“Oh. Awesome.” Had it really been that long? Ranboo wasn’t really hungry; he’d actually rather go back to sleep, or whatever had made the time pass like that, but he stood up anyway. “I’ll be down in a second.”

“Awesome.” Ranboo thought he saw Techno flash him a thumbs up, but then the guy was gone, muffled steps walking down the carpeted hallway to the stairs.

Ranboo stretched his arms over his head and groaned quietly. Dinner. He could do that. He could do that, and then he could go back to sleep and be done with people for the day. Slowly, he shuffled over to the door. Just eat dinner and sleep.

Phil made dinner. Ranboo wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t expecting that, but it was probably related to his general impression of rich people. He cringed a little at how clearly wrong he was, at least about this family. Especially because Phil had made mac and cheese.

It was freaking good mac and cheese too, he thought as he ate, carefully watching the others to make sure he wasn’t eating the wrong way. So far, he was doing well.

The four of them sat at a big table in the kitchen. Niki and Techno sat next to each other across from Ranboo, who was alone next to an empty chair. When he first saw it, he thought maybe it was Phil’s, but then Phil had taken the seat at the head of the table. Through the entire meal, Ranboo’s gaze was drawn to the chair and the question if someone was missing from their group. 

“So, Ranboo,” Niki said casually, like they’d been friends for a while and this wasn’t the first conversation she’d ever initiated with him. Ranboo looked up and put down his fork to make sure she knew he was listening. “You start school the day after tomorrow, right?”

Ranboo glanced at Phil for confirmation before nodding. “Yeah.” He was actually doing his best not to think about it. Everytime he did, his heart sped up unpleasantly and his knee started bouncing and a lot of thoughts he didn’t have space for crowded his mind. He was eternally grateful for Sunday tomorrow, giving him a bit of a reprieve before he was thrown into it.

“I thought we’d go shopping tomorrow.” Phil joined the conversation with such ease that Ranboo almost stared. “We need to get you your uniform and some supplies. I also thought a new backpack would be nice. But if you want to stick with the one you’ve got, that works, too,” he added quickly.

Ranboo thought of the seam starting to rip on one of the straps. “No, a new bag would be awesome.”

“Great. It’s settled. Techno, Niki, do you two want to come?”

The two shared a glance and nodded. 

“Alright. We’ll go to the mall at ten tomorrow, I think. Does that sound good, Ranboo?” Phil asked. Everyone was suddenly watching him. Ranboo nodded quickly, if only to make them stop.

“Did you get your schedule yet?” Techno asked, looking at his plate instead of Ranboo.

“No.” Was he supposed to have one?

“We’ll get it tomorrow with your other things,” Phil told him.

“Oh. Okay.”

When dinner was finished, Techno and Niki were the first to get up. “We have homework,” were their parting words, and then they were out the door with a surprising lack of sound. The silence held until their doors closed a few moments later.

Phil set down his fork and turned his attention to Ranboo. “I’m gonna head off too, mate. The office called, and they want me to head in for a few hours tonight. Unless you need me to stay?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Ranboo rushed out. Time alone would be good. He always found it easier to breathe when there were less people in the house.

“If you’re sure,” Phil said, standing. “Techno and Niki will help if you need anything, and my numbers are on the coffee table. You should probably put them in your phone anyway.”

Ranboo imagined the battered old model he had upstairs. The corner was bashed in from being dropped a few too many times, and the 5 button was fickle. He cringed a little at the thought of showing it to Phil.

“Will do,” was all he said. Then Phil, too, left, and Ranboo was alone in a kitchen in a new house with no real idea what he should do, except that he wanted to leave Niki and Techno alone.

With that in mind, he went to bed. Or, not exactly. He went to sit in bed with his legs crossed, hunched over his journal as he wrote everything that had happened that day down. It had been a long time since he’d lost a day, but that did nothing to remove the fear that at some point, he would.

A strange bang sometime later made Ranboo jump. He checked the digital clock on his nightstand: 1:15 am.

The noise reminded him of a window being shut, and for a brief moment, panic flashed through him like lightning. What if someone had broken in?

But that was impossible. They were at the top of freaking Pog Tower. Just to reassure himself, Ranboo got up and looked out his own window. The distance from himself to the ground made him close the curtains. Yep, no one would be scaling the building. He was fine. He was safe. 

Ranboo looked at the journal, still open on his bed. The moment when he’d gone from writing to staring blankly at the pages was a mystery. He sighed, closed the journal, and put it back in its place at the bottom of his backpack. He had to go shopping tomorrow… well, technically, today. Sleep would be a really great idea.

Not that saying it would make it happen. 

Nevertheless, Ranboo climbed into bed. This time, he got under the covers and made his eyes stay closed. The suggestions ran through his head: count, tell yourself a story, take deep breaths. None of it ever worked.

Sometimes, Ranboo really wished it did.

[mourntheantagonist]

#HarringroveApril Day 3: Spring Break

***

“So class, let’s go around the room and say what we all did for spring break.”

Steve hated these days, when he was forced to hear about all the fun everyone had, traveling to far away places while he just got drunk and high by himself in his own home. Just him and the voices on the television for a week just waiting and waiting for that next Monday to finally roll around and get back to some sort of normalcy. As much as he despised those school halls they were ten times better than his own.

The week had started out just the same, driving down empty streets because half the town jumped on the opportunity to get away. Drive thru lines were nonexistent, tumbleweeds outnumbered people, everything was quiet.

The stupid talking stick snaked around the room. His classmates talked about their trips to the beach and getting to see the ocean, trips to Vegas which didn’t seem very practical for kids of only seventeen, some ventured into the depths of the woods to camp, something Steve was smart enough not to do in Hawkins, Indiana, no matter how many times they insisted that the gate was closed, and that it would stay closed.

It seemed everyone had found something to do with their week, except for the guy who was for some reason sitting on his front porch when he’d pulled in to his driveway carrying a bucket of KFC that he was definitely not planning to eat all by himself.

Billy.

“Surprised you’re still here. Figured a rich boy like you would have hopped on a plane to France or something.” Billy said, walking over to him where he was standing, leant up against the side of the Beemer twirling his keys around his index finger. He pulled a leg out of the bucket without even asking.

“What are you doing here Hargrove?” Steve asked, rolling his eyes over the messy way Billy took a bite into the chicken, smearing grease all over his face.

“You know why I’m here.”

He did. Billy was there for the exact same reason he was always there. He was there for Steve’s bed, his dick, his mouth... everything but Steve himself, at least that was the way it had felt.

Billy fisted the collar of Steve’s shirt and pulled him in closer, the bucket of KFC in his arms being the only thing applying distance between the two of them. “What do you say we make this week ours?”

Steve didn’t like one night stands, if you could even call them that considering Billy kept coming back, hookups would probably be more precise. Steve wanted more than a sweaty half hour with Billy Hargrove, he wanted more.

But it was either fucking Billy Hargrove all week, or watching The Golden Girls on repeat by himself, and as much as he loved Betty White, one option was definitely more enticing.

So he agreed to Billy’s proposition. They ate a quarter of the bucket before taking it upstairs where they did their same old thing. A fuck without feelings. No talking, just grunts and moans that, to be fair, Steve ate right up.

Except something changed. Something was different about all those other times Billy came over.

Because he didn’t leave.

He stayed put, right where he was laying on his bed, just rolled onto his side and pulled the covers up to his waist. Usually he’d be halfway out the door, the sound of the Camaro revving outside his window being completely absent was strange. And Billy just patted the mattress with the palm of his hand, his eyes falling shut like he was ready to go to sleep, and Steve didn’t know what to do other than exactly what he wanted to do. Forget the heart beating out of his chest or the breath caught in his throat when he laid down and Billy’s arms quickly wrapped around him, all he could focus on was Billy’s sweaty skin against his own and maybe he misunderstood what Billy meant when he said “let’s make this week ours.”

When he woke up in the morning, Billy was still there. His arms still wrapped around him in the same way they fell asleep.

And Billy stayed. He stayed through the morning, through the evening, stayed the night again, and again, and sure... a lot of that time was spent undressed and doing their usual activities, but there were also moments where Billy sat next to him on the couch and watched a movie with him, moments where Billy microwaved a bowl of popcorn for them to share, and more moments where they cuddled in bed before they fell asleep for the night.

And then on day three there was the kissing. Not the foreplay making out that he was used to, not the aggressive tongue wrestling that left his jaw sore the next day. No, these were soft kisses on the couch that ended exactly where they started. No hand gripping his wrist to drag him up the stairs. No trailing hands into his pants or up his shirt, just soft kisses that made him melt.

But the problem was, Steve was so focused on not getting attached that he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, because he knew that once the week was over, everything would go back to the way it was.

So by day five he started pushing Billy away. Turning his head away when Billy went in for a kiss, rolling out of his embrace while they slept, distancing himself the best he could.

And by day seven, Billy said it.

“Do you not want me here?”

It followed the probably tenth time Steve turned away from a kiss while he was doing the dishes, and when he says it, Steve nearly drops the plate into the sink.

“What makes you think that?”

“Don’t act all fucking dense Steve.”

And to that Steve actually did drop the plate into the sink with a loud clank against the metal bowl.

“Look Billy,” Steve starts with clenched teeth, tightly gripping the edge of the counter and his head bowed staring into the soapy water that filled the sink, “I know this is all going to stop at the end of the week, so just let me make it a little easier alright?”

“Why does it have to stop?”

“I’m not going to waste my time with someone who just wants to fuck and fuck off, I need more than that, and if you can’t give that to me-”

His phrase was cut short with the crash of Billy’s lips against his and the gentle tug on the hairs at the nape of his neck, and Steve didn’t turn his head this time, he just let it happen and tried to decipher what Billy was trying to say with the movement of his tongue that didn’t produce words, but said everything it needed to for Steve to kiss him back.

It was a kiss that said “I want more too.”

Monday rolled around too quickly. All those years of aching for Spring Break to finally end, now flipped on its head, desperate for it to be Saturday again.

The talking stick was in his hand, and he was reminded of all those years of having to answer with a simple “nothing” and a frown as he passed it back to the person behind him.

But it was 1985, it was a new year.

“Steve?” His teacher questioned, he was just sitting there, holding it in his hand. “What did you do for Spring Break?”

“Nothing.” he said.

But this time, he said it with a smile.

[hhunjins]

[7:09 pm]

Bang Chan; “It’s you, it always has been” + “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids” (fluff)

Word count: ~1000

Warnings: alcohol, language

The phone doesn’t even finish its first ring when you hear his voice. “Y/n? Why are you calling me? Aren’t you in the middle of a date right now?”

“Can you come pick me up?” You let out a shaky sigh that jolts Chan into action. You can hear him fumble with the phone for a moment as he drops whatever he’s doing.

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”

“The Italian place near the library,” you mumble.

“I’ll be there in ten, I promise,” Chan says hurriedly. “Are you okay?” he dares to ask. His voice is softer this time, like he’s treading on thin ice.

“Just hurry. I feel like shit.”

True to his words, Chan gets there in ten minutes. His hair is a mess and he looks slightly sleepy, but he’s dependable. Always dependable. He gets out of the car, even if it’s parked illegally on the side of the road, and takes you into his arms, squeezing you in his warm embrace. “Not good?” He lets out a sigh when you shake your head. “Give me the word and I’ll beat him up for you,” Chan mutters as he tucks your head under his chin.

You let out a dry laugh. “I’m over it. Just annoyed. Can we go back to your place and eat chicken?”

“Funny you suggested that because I ordered before I left.”  

Your arms tighten around his middle. “You’re the best.”

Chan has been by your side ever since you moved into the house next door back in middle school. He’s still here now, nearly twelve years later, living three doors down the hall. You’ve been through thick and thin together, even after drifting because of a nasty fight. You always came back to one another.

He knows you like the back of his hand. Well enough to know that putting on a movie as background noise as you sit on the floor with a bucket of chicken and a 6-pack of beer in his living room is the best way to comfort you. Well enough to stop you from popping open the top to another can and redirecting you to the bucket of chicken instead.  

“Men suck!”

Chan snorts, reaching over with a napkin to wipe the grease off your lips.

Your fingers wrap around a drum and you pull it out, taking a slow bite. You can’t really taste the chicken with how fuzzy your head feels but it feels nice to fall into the rhythmic pattern of chewing on something. You’re not really paying attention to the movie either, just watching colors flash across the screen.

Chan’s eyes watch you with both concern and amusement. “This guy really messed you up, huh?”

“He was a jerk and made dumb eyes at the waitress while on a date with me!”

Chan sighs for the umpteenth time, picking through the bucket of greasy fried chicken for a drumstick. “Maybe you should take a break from blind dates.”

You think about it for a whole five seconds before shaking your head. “I just want to know what it’s like to be in love and to be loved, you know?”

Chan pauses with his hand hovering over the bucket. He thinks about your words for longer than you did with his. “I do,” he finally says. “It’s hard. Being in love.”

His words swirl around in your head, and the little part that’s still lucid wonders who Chan is in love with that’s making it so hard for him. You’d fight them for him if he wanted you to. Chan would be an amazing boyfriend. “Who’s making it hard for you? Why don’t I know about this?” you bellow, waving your drumstick in the air. “Say the name. I’ll fight them!”

Chan lets out a short bark of laughter, eyes filled with fondness. The small smile doesn’t leave his face even when you stop waving your drumstick-turned-weapon and take a bite out of it instead. “You.”

Your jaw goes slack for a moment before you realize you’re still chewing on food and snap it closed again. Despite how silly you probably looked, Chan is still watching you with the same small smile and soft eyes.

“Wait? Me?” You point your drumstick at yourself.

He nods. “It’s you. It always has been.”

Hearing it a second time doesn’t make it any better. You almost choke on your food so you just end up spitting it out into a napkin. “Me?” you repeat.

“If I have to say it again, I’m gonna take it back.”

“No! You can’t do that!”

Chan puts two hands on your cheeks and squishes them, effectively stopping your whining. “I love you,” he says. There’s an uncharacteristically serious look in his eyes that makes your heart pick up. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

“Kids?” you repeat in a small voice.

“Yeah. After you went to one of my swim meets even though you hated sitting in the sun and getting splashed on the sidelines. Since then.”

You blink at him a few more times, a slow smile creeping onto your face as you stare into his eyes. You’ve always liked how soft and warm they made him look. Chan was soft and warm. His hands on your face are too. “Okay,” you reply.

“Just okay?” Chan presses his thumbs into your cheeks, a slow pink blush creeping up to his ears. “That’s it?”

“How else am I supposed to react? I’ve never gotten to the point of confessing feelings before. But I like it. I like you.”  

Chan lets out a short laugh, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons. “Okay.”

There is a short moment where you feel like you’re floating on top of the world. You can see the curly wisps of hair that tickle Chan’s forehead and the little freckles dotted across his cheekbones from how close he’s holding you. Wait. When did he get that close?

It catches you by surprise when Chan swoops in to give you a swift kiss. There’s a tingly feeling that lingers where his lips meet yours and you find yourself chasing for another when he pulls away.

Chan laughs, and kisses you again.

[mirukostallbabygirl]

Finally seeing each other after the pandemic ends Hcs (Gn!Reader)

So basically I got really fucking sad

So here’s this

Contents: (quirkless au) fluff, semi-angst buildup but happy end, blood? (but it’s a nose bleed), daddy kink (bakugo)

Characters: Hawks, Denki, Sero, Miruko, Bakugo

Takami Keigo (Hawks)

He was nervous waiting at the airport

The two of you started dating on campus, but you had to go back home when cases started ramping up

He just stayed in the dorms because he had nowhere else to go, and there were a few other students that did the same

But your parent(s) demanded that you come home to stay safe

You think it was just an excuse to get you to be their “little kid” again

So you hadn’t seen eachother since it started, and it was getting to the both of you

He sat near the top of the many escalators, keeping an eye out for you while trying to scroll through his phone as a distraction

It wasn’t working

He missed you so much

FaceTiming and texting were nice, but they didn’t replace the time he had with you while you were there with him

You’d walk to classes and go get coffee, getting the cheapest stuff that they had so that you could afford dinner on the days where there were food trucks down the street

The time he spent with you was electrifying, and a year away from it was incredibly hard

There were even times where he thought that you would want to stop

It was like doing long distance, and he knew how a lot of relationships didn’t make it through that

But whenever he started freaking out, it seemed like you knew, and texted him about some silly thing your family dog did, or fuming about your parent(s)

But what if you decided it really was too much? What if you wanted to stay back? What if you got another flight to avoid him? What if...

... he was overthinking

You had texted him a picture of your plane ticket with a bunch of kissy face emojis and “I’m so excited”

His mind wouldn’t stop though

He glanced up at the escalators for the seemingly hundredth time

He took in the sight of people flooding in and turned back

Wait— people flooding in— that means you

His head whipped back faster than he thought possible

And there you were, pulling your earbuds out of your ears and scanning the room for messy blond hair

You two made eye contact for a second before bolting towards eachother, skidding across the white tile floor to get there

You met it an explosive hug, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, pulling your legs up around his hips

You could feel a wet spot forming on your shoulder where he had nuzzled in, and you were sure you were crying as well

You missed him so much

You pulled slightly away after a moment to look at him, take in his features after only ever seeing them through a screen for so long

His voice was wobbly as he choked out “hey, baby bird,”

You smiled, tears were streaming down your face in buckets by now, and managed out a small “hey”

You grabbed his face and smashed his lips against your own

It was ugly, and not the best kiss, but you were there together after so long and that’s what mattered most

Denki Kaminari

He checked the address on his phone nervously as he waited at the bus stop

You were going to meet him at a Ramen restaurant that you had found online

He was nervous as he boarded the train-- you two had dated for a while before the world ended, and you had a flow to the relationship

But it had been so long, would it be like your first date all over again? would it be the same? He didn’t know and he was nervous to find out

He didn’t know that you were gnawing at your lip as you walked down the street to get to the restaurant

A feeling beyond butterflies stirred in your stomach, nerves and adrenaline, and the need to see him

you were so excited you felt like you would die, but at the same time questions lingered in the back of your mind

you had stayed in contact, and he responded quickly to your messages, and you had scheduled a date literally minutes after the cases being low enough to return to normal was aired on TV

But that never stopped the nerves of meeting someone you care so deeply about after so long

You felt your phone buzz in your hand, his name lighting up your phone screen and sending electricity down your spine

it read I'm almost there :) 

you were almost there, too

it was just around the corner, and you had run past it on your jog this morning after the weird feeling of needing to know it existed nagged you, even though you had seen it a million times while walking down the street

You turned the corner just as he did and...

Promptly smashed your noses together

he wailed and you groaned, each of you lifting a hand up to grip your respective noses

But your ears perked up when you heard his voice

you opened your eyes wide to see he’d done the same, looking back at you with disbelief

he let out a small “y/n?”

your hand dropped down (after you were pretty sure it wasn’t hurt, but it felt like it needed ice) to get a better look at him

his eyebrows were high, eyes wide, and mouth agape as he took you in

you gingerly moved towards him, making sure to lean your head and angle your face away as you moved forwards

and then gently wrapped your arms around him, features soft as you put your head on his shoulder

soon his arms wrapped around you, and you both sighed, chuckling that this was your first meeting after being away for so long

you pulled away and gestured toward his nose “You okay?” a small trickle of blood dripped down and he lifted a hand up to his nose

“I swear this nose bleed is seasonal, it’s not your fault,” he laughed out as he leaned forward to not get blood on his clothes, “it is a bit of a problem, though.”

you nodded and grabbed his hand, crossing the street to a CVS pharmacy 

you hurried though aisles before finally making it to the bathroom, thanking whatever power there be that it wasn’t locked

He grabbed a handful of paper towels as you went to go buy a box of tissues that wouldn’t be so abrasive on his nose

when your returned, he was nearing the end of it, and the tissues absorbed the last of it

he looked at you and blushed, “Ah I’m sorry, our first date back and I got a nose bleed and we ended up at a CVS.”

You just shook your head and pressed your lips against his, it was short but filled with the like (dare you say love) that you had pent up over your time apart

When you pulled away you teased “You might wanna wash your face there, bud. That kiss was a little iron-y” 

Hanta Sero

It was almost cruel how you ended up alone in the pandemic

he had just moved into your apartment, and had to go away on a business trip to Spain 

You two had joked around about it-- him being able to take a trip to suck a romantic place, without you

he was supposed to be gone 2 weeks

at the end of week 1, the world went into a total shutdown

he was stuck in Spain, and you were stuck at home, alone

You kept in contact obviously, it had been years that you had been dating, but it was the most strain you two had ever been under

He felt bad keeping a secret from you but he felt like he had to-- besides, it would be great for you in the end

so he lied and said that he couldn’t call that night because he had a meeting, avoiding the subject the you said you could call earlier or later

What’s the fun in telling you that he couldn’t call was because he had gotten a plane ticket back home?

So he was sitting nervously in a plane seat, hoping you wouldn’t be upset

Meanwhile, you were moping, convinced you had finally bored him, he was going to start pushing you away 

so you microwaved a TV dinner and flipped on the cooking channel, acknowledging how sad it was that you were eating mushy food that was still cold in the middle while watching top chefs create fabulous dishes

An array of shows came on, all of them reruns from before when they could actually be on set

A show came on that you found particularly infuriating, and you sighed as you watched an inexperienced chef nearly burn down the kitchen by putting water on a grease fire

You didn't know why you enjoyed the show so much given how much the contestants bothered you, but you watched it nonetheless 

A particularly idiotic chef burned his fish to the point of no return and you were screaming out insults

“Dude, how old are you,” you accused, “you should at least know how to do this.”

“Hmm, I’d say around 38.” you heard a voice speak from behind you

your head whipped around so fast you were scare you would get whiplash

“W-why are you here?” you asked, too stunned to believe your eyes

“Wow, you sound so excited” he let out a chuckle, nervous now at your response

“what? oh-- no no no...” you rambled out, scrambling up to crawl over the back of the couch

he relaxed once you wrapped your arms firmly around his waist, your knees digging into the cack of the couch and ass sticking out in the air as you gripped him to make sure he was real

He grabbed onto your wrists to place them on his shoulders, then grabbed your hips to pull you off the couch to wrap around his waist

you hadn’t noticed you were crying until you got choked up when trying to say “I missed you”

“I missed you too” he managed, voce cracking in emotion, as well

you slid the palms he placed on his shoulders around his neck, pulling him closer to press your lips against his

You started gentle, but the need and excitement sped the two of you up

slow lips turned into clashing teeth, and gentle hands on your waist turned into groping

he pulled away for a second to sigh out “I’m so glad you aren’t mad”

And all you did in response was pull him closer

Rumi Usagiyama (Miruko)

Rumi was a big deal

She’s famous for a lot of reasons-- but one of the many was how many generous donations she had made towards finding a cure for Covid-19

You two had been dating for a while, so much so that you had talked about moving in together

the only reason you didn’t was because she didn’t want to thrust you into the spotlight 

But when you couldn’t even see each other, you so wished that you would’ve fought her on that a bit more, gotten her to let you, convinced her that you were ready

but you hadn’t seen her in so long, and she was so busy, and even after the vaccine was administered to all of the population, you hadn’t set up a plan to meet

so you sat in a bar, glaring down at your second rum and coke of the evening-- you felt like shit

Bars had stopped running during the pandemic, and the screens that used to play sports obnoxiously loud now play the news, the fucking news

You were seriously concerned about the world

But that was the only distraction you had, so you watched the headlines fly by, a fire was extinguished off of the highway, mountain climbing was the new “hottest pace to be this year”, and some TV show host made an apology for an inappropriate joke

then you saw the face of your... girlfriend? could you call it that? you still talked but she didn’t seem like she wanted to see you

but you saw Rumi in the street outside of a bar downtown

Wait... you were in a bar... downtown... and Rumi was passing by the window to your left

You shot up, mind not fully working as you sprinted out the door

“RUMI?!” You screamed a little too loud

She perked up at your voice, turning around and cringing as she saw the fleet of cameras coming to harass her getting nearer

So she grabbed your arm and dragged you further down the street, deeper down until she made it to the destination she had been going to

You hadn’t realized that the bar you were at was so close to her office (ok, you did know that, but you didn’t want to admit that you had hoped this would happen)

She continued pulling you up the stairs, and your drunken giggles echoed through the empty staircase

Finally making it past her door, she pushed you against the wall and kissed you— hard

There was no preparation, she just pushed your mouth open, forcing her toungue out to lick at your bootom lip, moving in slightly before pulling out, moving in a cycle of this

Her hands gripped at the sides of your face keeping you close to her

You submit to her, only breaking away when she wouldn’t let you breathe for too long

She pulled away finally, a faintly noticeable blush on her face as she stepped away

Leaving you drunk in many ways— not just on alcohol

You were dazed from such sudden passion after going so long without it

You decided you would fight for more of that from now on

“Uhm.. well, I missed you” she mumbled out, feeling stupid now for assuming you shared her desire earlier

You moved over to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk “you don’t even know how much I missed you” you stuttered out

Her shoulders relaxed and the fake grin she had on turned into a real one

“That was too long without you” she continued “I thought I was going to lose my mind, and I’m sorry I didn’t arrange to meet up sooner I’ve just been so busy but now I promise I’ll make time for you but it’s been really hard going bac—“

You cut off her rambling by pressing a quick kiss to her lips

“You know how you can make it better?” Your words were still slurred from earlier and they were quiet, but you knew she could hear you

She mumbled out a meek “what” before you were whispering in her ear

“Let me move in with you”

“I would love that”

Katsuki Bakugo

(Lol ok so ik this isn’t about his parents— but this was too funny to not use it, so here’s bakugo truly taking after his mother)

he had been making you call him daddy ever since you did it as a joke on FaceTime

At the start, he just said that you should do it for fun

But he grew more confident as time went on, and he had started making you beg “daddy” for things

And you didn’t hate it

But what you knew would be bad is if either of you let it slip in front of your parent(s) who insisted on tagging along with you to the station

You had decided to meet at the train station that was about 30 minutes from where both of you sheltered for the lockdown— he was taking the bus down from the north and you were driving with your parents up from the south

You got there and immidiately started scanning for your impulsive boyfriend

You had a plan to get to him before your parents could

So that you could reinforce what you had stressed over text many times— don’t. Say. Daddy.

Then you saw spiky blond hair sticking out of the crowd and started running

Hoping your parents would see it as you excuse let running towards him rather than out of the need to get to him in time

He turned to you as the crowd parted to let you jog towards him

He smiled and pulled you close, pressing your lips together when you got close enough

But he frowned when you seemed preoccupied and pulled away quickly

“Okay, I love you, but I’m serious about the daddy thing” you whispered daddy, you weren’t usually ashamed of it but it felt weird with all of the people that could overhear

“What are you shy” he cocked an eyebrow, moving to pull you close again

But you insisted “seriously, they’ll whoop my ass if they hear it— a they think I’m still a little kid”

“Oh no. Only I’m allowed to hit that pretty little ass of y-“

You shoved your hand over his mouth hissing out his name, giving him one last death glare before your parents catched up

“Hello there” he greeted them politely

You were incredibly relieved that he seemed perfectly normal and that his usual temper wasn’t coming through

Your parents had met bakugo before, but this was a whole new level of stressful as both your first time seeing him after so long, as well as the first time since your new dynamic came into play

But the exchange went well, and your parents were waiting on the platform as the two of you boarded and the t turned away

He waited until you were settled in the train to tap you on the ass, and slide his hand in your back pocket, muttering how much you were blushing into your ear

[fictionalnormalcy]

58 for intimacy asks - Vigcup 😊

Prompt 58: Being locked in a small space; Vigcup

“Come on there’s something I want to show you,” He tugged him by the hand.

“We’re going, up there?” Viggo asked hesitantly. 

“You’ve never been up in a tree house?” Hiccup smirked. 

“A building like that, is meant for children under ten.”

“I have some notebooks up there, and I need your help finding them.” He grasped the rope ladder. 

He heard Viggo climbing underneath him, coming to join him on the platform. 

“When was the last time you were inside?” He glanced at the entrance. 

Hiccup laughed as he spoke. “When I still fit through without having to lean down.”

Hiccup raised the latch and shoved open the heavy wooden door. Stepping inside and feeling the aged wood groan underneath his foot. It would hold. He was sure of it. The tree it was built on was sturdy and reliable, although he did have to admit that it was possible the wood for the floor had begun to wear away. He eased his way inside, wiping the dust from his hand onto his jeans. The floor creaked once again as Viggo followed. Hiccup turned, handing Viggo a bucket full of white small rocks and pointing at the open door. 

“Stubborn in staying open.” He said shortly. 

He turned before he could see Viggo’s reaction. He heard the plastic be placed on the floor, letting in a doorway of sunlight. Over the years his dad had made it a storage unit, boxes filled with old books and clothes. Some with handmade wooden statues that no longer fit on shelves. 

“What box do you think it may be in?” Viggo came to stand beside him. 

His legs were slightly bent and back hunched, while all Hiccup had to do was lean his head down. Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, also thinking that the less they spent in here the better. He didn’t want to turn his partner into a hunchback from this. 

“I umm,” He chuckled nervously, “Dad added more in here than I thought. I don’t know where he could have put the box they were in.”

“Are these notebooks really that important that we have to be in this dust-ridden room?”

“Hey,” Hiccup chided, “you’ve shown me your sketches and prototypes. Time I return the favor.” 

“Ah.” 

Viggo jostled him as he took a box off a pile nearly touching the ceiling. Hiccup searched through another three boxes, trying to work his way through the assortment. Once he saw its contents, he knew it weren’t what they were looking for and would set them aside. The two of them slowly making a pile next to the doorway. Then Hiccup found a squished backpack crammed into the corner. Clutching it with both hands, he started to pull, feeling the object slowly move back. Using too much force, it came free with an abrupt jerk. 

Viggo had noticed too late, only arriving in time to seize the backpack, but Hiccup had fallen backward, knocking down their tower of boxes. The impact causing the bucket of rocks to dislodge from the door, and it slammed shut. There was still faint rays of sunlight peeking in from the single window, but otherwise the treehouse had drastically darkened. There was a small thud as Viggo leaned down. A hand coming to the back of Hiccup’s neck.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he slid an arm around Hiccup’s waist. 

“Yeah. I forgot how heavy the door is.”

Hiccup held onto Viggo’s shoulder as he helped him stand. Hiccup started pulling the fallen boxes upright, the ones that had been left inside. Some had been shoved onto the platform outside. Viggo began to swipe at the door.

“Why isn’t there a doorknob on the inside?” 

“Oh.” He grimaced. “It used to have one, but the screws loosened and when it fell my dad never fixed it. Just, ease your fingers into the doorway and pull.”

“Did this ever happen to you when you were younger?”

“Always had the bucket, and honestly? Never this many boxes inside.”

“It’s not opening.”

The door creaked loudly in complaint, but there was a ka-thunk. Hiccup ran a hand down his face as he realized. 

“It’s happened, that if it closes with enough force the latch slides into place.”

“Hiccup, you can’t be serious.”

His gaze drifted to the floor. 

“So how do we go about this?”

“The window?” Hiccup suggested. 

Viggo shoved some boxes aside as he made his way over. His hands went to the frame, pulling at the window. 

“Certainly… being… difficult.” He grunted. 

“Now that really hasn’t been opened in years, give it some elbow grease.” He urged. 

“What, do you think I’m doing?” 

He stumbled back as it finally slid open with a grind. Viggo managed to poke his head out, trying to see if there was someway he could try to open the door from where they were. 

“I can’t reach it from here.” He leaned back. “And the window’s too small for us to climb out of.”

“I could-”

“My dear while you are slender even you can’t fit through here. Even then there isn’t a solid branch on which you can step on if you managed to get out there.”

“My phone!” He cried, but once he slid it out he frowned. “Who should I call first? Almost everyone’s off-island.”

“It’s worth calling them, even if we have to wait a while for someone to let us out.”

“You don’t have your phone?”

It was Viggo’s turn to look mildly embarrassed as he said, “I left it on the dining room table. I didn’t expect that coming out to your backyard would merit an emergency.” 

“I didn’t expect it either.”

He clicked dial, starting with his dad. He managed to get through everyone, 3 of his friends answering, but saying their ride wasn’t due to arrive or that they were still occupied. His dad had sent him straight to voicemail. 

“Yeah well. Seems we’ll be stuck in here for a while.” He glanced at Viggo. “What do we do in the meantime?”

Viggo gave him a gentle smile. “What we came here to do.” 

“I can clear a spot for you to sit. If you like. Standing in that position must be really comfortable.”

“I doubt a box could support either of our weight.”

“Not a box.”

He gestured for Viggo to step aside, and lifted three small boxes into his arms. They nearly toppled forward, but Viggo lightened his load by taking one. Hiccup eased the boxes onto another pile and Viggo set his on the floor. 

“Benches.” Hiccup pointed. “I think I saw an old t-shirt spilling out of a box, we could wipe it down before you sit,”

He pulled it out and swept off all the dust. Stepping aside to allow Viggo to sit. 

“That work?” 

Viggo sat, resting his head against the wall, sighing heavily. “It could be better.”

He stared at Hiccup playfully.

“You take a break I’ll,” An idea dawned into his head, “keep looking. Bingo!”

He cleared off another part of the bench, then lifted up the plank. He started sifting through, trying not to inhale the spiderwebs in the compartment.

Viggo tsked. “This isn’t your typical treehouse. You even had a secret compartment.”

“You can see why I liked spending time here.”

He pulled out their prize. He undid the latches on the wooden box, setting it down below Viggo. 

“They’re here!” He yelled triumphantly. 

Hiccup pulled out a notebook, miraculously spared of the dust. Faint yellowing from age, but that was to be expected. He pried open the composition notebook, his grin growing wider as the doodles reminded him of what ran through his head as the pencil etched his idea. 

“How many do you have in there?” Viggo peered over his shoulder.

“I think it’s 8.” 

He felt arms slide around his waist from behind, lifting him until the back of his thigh touched the bench. Flipping to another page as Viggo adjusted into position beside him. Hiccup leaned backward into his chest, snuggling closer to him as they both looked over what lay on the paper.

Thank you for the prompt! <3

[granddaughterogg]

When you have The Flu

You woke up one grey autumn morning and even before you’ve unglued your eyelids - everything was terrible. Your head was throbbing with a dull ache. Your bones felt as if filled with lead. You opened your eyes, made the heroic attempt to sit up - and groaned when your whole body spasmed with a violent shiver. “Oh, for fucks’ sake”, you mumbled and then called out…

1. “War!…” Your voice sounded ridiculous - nasal, scratchy and weak, as if someone has stuffed damp cotton wool inside your sinuses. That confirmed your grim suspicions. But he heard you anyway. The whole house trembled with the reverb of the Red Rider’s heavy steps. He stomped into your shared bedroom, filling it completely with that transatlantic frame of his. You noticed that War had already put on his battle gear. It made him even chunkier. “What’s wrong?” He fell close to you, his body taut, his head low, lightning blue eyes scanning the room. Always on the lookout for enemies, that one. Always ready to protect you. But this enemy has attacked from the inside. “War…” you groaned, putting one hand on his iron arm. It was pleasantly cold to the touch. And you were burning. “No one’s here, baby. I’m just sick.” “Oh.” The Big Guy relaxed from his battle stance and looked you in the eyes, those wide silver eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Is it…your monthly affliction?” This guy grew up with a sister, yet he was still such a Victorian when it came to phrasing those things. You would probably laugh if you didn’t feel so weak. “No, War. But I’m hurting all over and I’m pretty sure I have a fever. I feel bad asking you this since you’re all dressed up for work already…but could you be a darling and get me some Tylenol? And maybe Vitamin C as well?

“My mission can wait”, War stated, making your heart aflutter. “Are you sure that those concoctions will suffice though? What else do you require?” You scratched your head. “Hot tea, I guess? A whole jug of it would be nice. Squeeze a lemon in it, will you? Just leave the peel outside…if you can.” “I shall do my utmost”, said your boyfriend solemnly (you fought the urge to giggle again) and left the room. 2. “Strife!” It was a weak cry. He obviously didn’t hear it. So you tried again. “Strife!” Still nothing. What was that giant doofus doing at such an ungodly hour anyway? He should be lying next to you, snoring like a woolly mammoth. “STRIFE!!! GET YER ASS HERE, PRONTO!” That worked. You’ve hear some penetrating, metallic noise coming from inside the house. What followed was a yelp, than a shuffle of feet - and some muffled curses. He stuck his bed head through the doorframe.Technically speaking, it’s always been a bed head. Gravity happened to other heads of hair. Strife’s was just…defiantly spiky. “You awake, babe?” “Nope. I’m hollering your name in my sleep”, you snorted. He flashed you a toothy grin. “Aww. How romantic!” “Please come back to the trite reality, Strife. I really need you to.” “No worries, pumpkin. Your screaming made me drop Redemption on my foot! And I was really getting somewhere with that improvement, too - “ “Earth to the Horseman”, you sighed. “I am ill, Strife. And I feel like shit.”

His whole face changed in a heartbeat. “Oh, babe.” Suddenly Strife was all up in your grill, the revolver forgotten on the floor behind him, wide black eyebrows pulled together, his large fingers framing your face. Which was hot. “Oh, bubbles. You’re burnin.” Strife’s touched your forehead a few times, just to be sure - and left a generous amount of gun grease behind. “You’re burnin’! Is this something humans do?” “Well, we’re not supposed to…” you murmured. His yellow eyes went round with panic. “Will you die?” “What?” “Please don’t die on me!” You stifled a long, hearty sigh. “I won’t kick the bucket that easily. But I need you to bring me tea and some meds. And stop being such a drama llama. It’s not helping.”

He did. And after that he went under the duvet and enclosed you in a firm embrace, refusing to let go until you get better. The fever made your head swirl; you were sleepy. Your consciousness drifted away. The whole world was just Strife’s earthy smell, mixed with the tinge of gun oil, and then nothingness.

[ill-skillsgard]

is faith dealing w being away from fausty? I miss them so :(,, I hope you’re well love xoxo

Warning: 18+ Mentions of sex/phone sex, mentions of alcohol and drug use, violent threats, non-consensual touching, brief mentions of rape.

Note: I missed writing Faust stuff so much over the holidays. He’s definitely one of my favourite secretly soft boys. I can’t wait to get back into the swing of writing. Thank you to the lovely anons who haven’t given up on this pairing yet! I will try not to go 2 months between posts for these guys.

Summary: Faith starts to miss Faust so much while he’s away on tour that she goes to his apartment to spend the night in his bedroom. However, her plans are interrupted by the people Faust warned her not to hang around.

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

Faith awoke in a sweat, chest pumping hot torrents of blood to her head as the ceiling came into view, the walls containing her after a flight through a nightmare faded into obscurity. She rolled onto her back, her flimsy cotton nightgown sticking to her dewy skin, and tossed the comforter from her top half. Streetlamps and passing cars cast geometric blocks of light on the ceiling, illuminating the dust motes floating by her face. Faith breathed in and out, shaking her head free from the gripping terror of unconsciousness.

She had dreamed of receiving a phone call from Faust in the middle of the night, and when she answered, he explained to her in a laconic, matter-of-fact voice why they shouldn't continue seeing each other. He was too busy to maintain a relationship with a girl who's path would never intersect with his goals. She was too young, too naive, too proper. Too this and too that and in no way matched him. The terrible sinking in her chest returned as it had in the dream, but she dismissed the sensation. It was all a silly dream, a manifestation of her worst fear. Faust loved her and would never break up with her—least of all over a phone call.

The cellphone next to her pillow came to life, vibrating a couple of times before she found it and squinted at the bright screen. Faust. She sat up, and her lungs froze, the cavernous hole opening up under her skin. When she answered, voices and loud music came through like warring radio waves.

"Hello?" She whispered, not wanting to wake her dorm mate.

"Faith? You there?"

"Yes," her voice crawled from her throat, no louder than a rasp. She cleared her airway and said again, "Yes."

"Aw, are you sleeping, babe?"

"No," she whispered.

"Hm? I can't hear you. Hang on, let me find a quieter place."

Faith swung out of bed and left the dorm to go to the shared washrooms where she could speak. She entered a stall, put down the toilet seat and sat atop the cold plastic, waiting for Faust's deep voice to tickle her ear again.

"You there?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"That's better, yeah. I can hear you now."

Faith squeezed her knees together, his voice like warm liquid flowing into her stomach. She sighed, relieved.

"Sorry, I know it's late for you. We had a really late soundcheck, then I was in the green room until we went on. I didn't forget to call."

Faith nodded, smiling, though Faust couldn't see the respite his words gave her after the unpleasant dream that had jarred her awake.

"It's okay. Where are you again?"

"Utah, probably a couple hours behind you. We're out of the venue now."

"How was the show?" Faith asked.

"It was good—big stage. Couple hundred people, but maybe a quarter of them were there for us. We sold a lot of merch, though."

"That's great, babe. I'm glad you're having fun."

"Yeah," Faust sighed. "I miss you, though. Can't believe there's still another three weeks of this."

Faith leaned her head against the stall's metal barrier, reading the scandalous notes engraved in the chipped paint. "I know. Seems like forever."

"You're still good to come to our last show?"

"Yes. I told my parents I'm going to a friend's cottage for the weekend."

"But really, you're getting on a Greyhound and coming to see me."

She closed her eyes and giggled. "That's right."

Faith wondered if she should tell Faust about her bad dream. She knew what he'd say to her: it was just a dumb dream, and he would never break up with her, so she shouldn't let it bother her so much. She accepted this assurance without bringing it up.

"I'm in my bunk now," Faust told her.

"I'm in the bathroom," said Faith.

"Wish you were here, though. It gets so boring sometimes, driving from place to place, listening to these dumbasses argue over the shower."

"It's the same here. I've started taking showers at midnight just to avoid the headache and bargaining. These girls all have the same night routine. There's always a line-up to use the shower."

"Mm," Faust grunted. "Yeah. Stupid."

A moment of silence passed between them. Faith savoured his soft breaths coming over the line, wishing she could feel the warmth behind them. She craved his scent, the smell of his shampoo, the distinct mentholated freshness of his deodorant. She wanted to stroke his face, and touch his biceps, inspect the hair underneath his arms until he told her she was weird for finding such things fascinating. She wanted to feel the twin ruts coming to a peak below his navel, leading down to his groin where he'd snatch her hand and berate her, ultimately relenting and letting her stroke the soft skin underneath the band of his plaid boxers.

"I wanna touch you," she whispered.

"Fuck," he drawled. "Me too, babe."

"I had a bad dream you called me in the middle of the night to break up with me... then you actually called. Do you think that's weird?"

Faust scoffed in that indignant way he always did. She pictured the corner of his mouth snagging, his brows descending at such a silly thing.

"That's kind of weird."

"I hate not being able to sleep next to you."

"Don't worry, babe. I'll be home soon. You can get through the next few weeks."

"Yeah, but... Do you miss sleeping next to me?"

"Oh, definitely. I really miss you hogging the blankets, pushing me to the edge of the bed, punching me in your sleep."

"I don't do that!"

Faust snickered. "Yeah, you do. But it's okay. I'm like way stronger than you. I can move you like nothing."

"Don't remind me," Faith groaned.

"Don't remind you of what? How strong I am?"

Faith made her voice small. "Yes. I can't think of that kind of stuff right now."

"You can't think about me overpowering you?"

"Sh. Quiet."

"What? Don't want to think about me pinning your arms above your head with one hand while I finger you? S'that what you don't want to think about?"

"I hate you," she said.

"Hate it when I pick you up and fuck you against the wall?"

"Yes."

"So...You're definitely not thinking about my cock, then? You haven't been playing with my pussy while I've been away? Pretending your fingers are mine? Or using that toy you bought to fuck yourself in your dorm when your roommate isn't there?"

"Oh my gosh, Faust. Please."

"You don't make yourself cum to the thought of me eating out that pussy? You don't miss my fat cock stretching out that poor little slit? Making you bounce on it? Sucking it until I cum buckets down your throat?"

"Faust," she whispered. "You're bad."

"Answer me. Do you think about riding my cock every night before bed? Rub yourself against a pillow between your legs?"

"Yes, I think about it all the time."

"Can you do me a favour?" Faust asked. Faith agreed before hearing the terms of said agreement. "Tomorrow, I want you to go to all your classes without wearing any panties under your skirt."

Faith's cheeks burned from his request. "What if it's windy and it blows up my skirt?"

"I don't really care," he said. "Know what? Never mind. Scratch that. This isn't a request; it's a command. I want you to take pictures while you're in class to prove you listened."

"I can't! Someone will see."

"Think I give a fuck? Sit in the back if you have to."

"I'll try," said Faith, toying with the sleeves of her nightgown.

"That's my girl."

They spoke for a few more minutes until Faust's bandmates flooded onto the bus, yelling and searching for the drummer who'd stowed away in the bunks. Faust said his goodbyes, made sure Faith understood her instructions for tomorrow, then said goodnight. She heard his friends mocking him in the backroom, calling him pussy-whipped, listened to him threaten their lives and giggled.

"I love you," Faust said, loud enough that anyone around him might hear. His unabashed affection filled her to the brim with warm fuzz.

"I love you, too," Faith replied, then looked at the phone screen until he hung up.

Later in the week, Faith started having trouble sleeping. Even if she filled her days with activities, studied into the night, ate properly and read before bed, her mind swam with anxiety. She told Faust about it, but he had no solution other than to stop by his place to grab one of his hoodies to sleep in, maybe one of his blankets if she missed him so much. Delighted, Faith accepted the suggestion, and Faust texted his roommate to leave the apartment door unlocked for her. She made her way over after dinner one night and walked in on Faust's roommate hosting a party.

The apartment was in disarray—worse than she'd ever seen. Beer bottles and cigarettes overflowing the ashtray was commonplace, but now there were grease-stained pizza boxes open on the floor, salt stains on the rug from people coming in and out from the balcony. The sofa pocked with several more burn marks, the dishes hadn't been washed since Faust left, and the entire living room reeked of stale food and smoke. Not only that, but she'd come in at the precise moment the music transitioned, and every eye in the place went to her.

She recognized half the people in Faust's apartment from other parties—Anika, the most familiar face that turned in her direction. The tall, blond girl smiled and pushed a guy's hand off her shoulder before approaching her. The metal music picked up, drowned out the silence, and Faith relaxed when Anika hugged her.

"Hey! I didn't know you were coming!" Anika exclaimed.

"I wasn't... Well, I didn't know anyone was here. I just came to get some stuff from Faust's room."

"Oh, cool. How is Frosty? I haven't seen you guys since Halloween!"

"He's good," Faith said, voice tapering off when she saw a pair of malicious eyes grilling her from across the room. "You know... Just touring."

"Yeah, I heard. That's awesome. Hey, you want anything to drink? We have beer in the fridge," Anika said.

Faith felt awkward standing in the middle of the front hall, while groups of people occupied her boyfriend's apartment. She realized she had very little dominion and shrank into herself until Anika pulled her into the kitchen. The blond pulled out two cans of domestic beer and handed her one, noticing Faith's unease.

"What's the matter?" Asked Anika.

Faith wondered if Faust knew about all the people in his apartment, if his roommate had asked him if he could have a party and invite all the people Faust talked shit about—the people he warned her not to hang out with.

"Uh, nothing. Just feels weird being here without Faust," said Faith.

"Aw, it's okay, girl. We party here all the time."

Faith questioned the verity of Anika's claim. She couldn't recall them having any big parties there since she started dating Faust eight months ago. Faust didn't like too many people in his space. Whenever they partied, it was always at someone else's house or out in the bush around a fire.

The same pair of blue eyes had Faith in a stranglehold. She cocked her head, and Anika noticed her attention locked on a man with fine blond hair touching his collarbone.

"Is that—?"

"Sven? Yeah. You probably remember him from that time we went camping."

Faith wished to turn in on herself, abandon the can of beer Anika had given her, grab what she needed from Faust's room, and leave. Anika sensed her discomfort and placed her thin hand on Faith's shoulder.

"Don't worry, he won't bother you. He has a girlfriend now."

"He's a creep," Faith muttered.

Anika shot Sven a look over her shoulder, and he turned away, pulling on a beer and wiping his mouth. Faith remembered the stench of his burnt hair in the fire, how Faust had punched him and dragged him through the dirt toward the pit where he held his face in the flames. Sven complained about the scratches and scrapes on his arms and legs from Faust dragging him the entire way home after they cut the trip short. The same tension that pierced the atmosphere in the van while Sven took the front seat and Faust held her hand in the back seat was the same strain she felt now as he stole glances at her. His wispy mustache had grown back along with his eyebrows and pale lashes.

Faith felt a pang of guilt in her stomach but dismissed the feeling with a swig of beer and Anika's encouragement. Faust would get angry with her if he knew she felt even an inch of remorse over what happened. Sven deserved what he got, and that's what she kept telling herself throughout the night as she drank a couple more beers with Anika and took a hit off a joint someone offered her out on the balcony.

A few of Faust's friends asked her about him, and it filled her with pride knowing everyone there knew who she was, who Faust was. She told them where the band was that night, where they were slated to go next, that they had sold out of merchandise and had to place an emergency order and have it shipped to the next venue. After a few hours, Faith felt the tug of exhaustion creeping over her shoulders and told Anika she had to head out, though she'd already missed the last bus and had little money in her bank account for a cab. Faith considered asking someone for a ride back to campus, but nobody seemed sober enough to trust behind the wheel.

Instead, she went to Faust's bedroom and shut the door and all the noises behind her. In his room, she took in a deep breath, and then another, filling her senses with the comforting scent of pine, stale air and the boyish aroma Faust carried with him. She went to his closet and brushed a hand over the black t-shirts and one of his leather coats. Next, Faith opened the third drawer in the lowboy and pulled out a hoodie that had shrunk in the wash and didn't fit Faust anymore. She often wore it when she came over, but he refused to let her take it home until now. She slipped it on over her blouse, smoothed it over her skirt and wrapped her arms around her ribs. The hood still smelled of Faust's hair.

Without thinking much, she arranged the objects on his dresser into an organized system rather than a mess of pens, splintered drumsticks, guitar picks and snack wrappers. She shovelled the waste into the garbage can under his desk, made his bed, fluffed the pillows, cleared the dirty clothes off the floor and kicked it all into the closet. If there wasn't a party going on right outside the door, she'd have done his laundry and took the dirty plates and forks to the kitchen sink. She did what she could without having to set foot outside the bedroom, and by the time she finished folding the clothes in his dresser into neat stacks, it was far too late for her to go anywhere.

Faith took off her panties and skirt, changed into a pair of his pyjama pants and sat on his bed with her hands folded, wondering if Faust would care if she spent the night in his bed. The fluffy pillows called out for her head. His comforter promised visions of them together again. She considered texting him to say she was staying over, but there was a knock on the door as she went for her phone.

She lifted her feet off the carpet and tucked them under her thighs, balled herself as small as she could until whoever knocked got the hint and walked away. The knock came again, and Faith's throat tightened.

"Yes?" She called.

The door opened, and she expected to see Anika's blond head poking in, but it wasn't her. The person was blond, but the face was not smeared with white foundation, nor were the blue eyes overlined with charcoal black. Sven stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked.

"What are you doing in here? This is my boyfriend's room. Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Sorry," said Sven, opening his palms to show he meant no harm. "I wanted to talk to you for a second. Is that okay?"

"I don't see why that's necessary."

"Mmkay, well, you don't have to be a bitch about it. Your boyfriend is the one who almost burnt my face off."

"Well, you were being weird. You're being weird now by coming in here. You should probably go."

"Sucks when he's not around to intimidate everyone that ever wants to start a conversation with you, huh?"

Faith pressed her lips together. Was he threatening her? She wasn't sure. He kept his distance, though his eyes ricocheted off the valuable objects in the room. The Gibson guitar hanging on the wall, the vintage RD bass in its stand just below, the electric drumset next to the desk, Faust's five-thousand-dollar computer, and finally, her. Faust's prized possessions all in one room.

"What do you want to talk about?" Faith broke the silence, sweating.

"I wanted to apologize for acting like an idiot back in the Summer. I was really drunk. I shouldn't have said that shit."

"Okay, well, thanks for the apology."

Sven gestured at her, pale eyebrows high on his freckled forehead. "And?"

"And what?" Faith asked.

"Aren't you going to apologize to me?"

"I have nothing to apologize for."

"You can apologize on behalf of your psycho boyfriend. That’d be a start."

Faith scoffed, heated by the insult. When it came to Faust, she never wanted to hear the negatives. It reminded her of her father's disapproval, filled her with useful venom. "Sorry, if you want an apology from Faust, he’d have to give it to you, and I don’t think that’s happening any time soon."

"Wow," Sven said with a click of his tongue. "And I thought you were a nice girl."

"I am nice, but right now, you're in my personal space, and it's making me uncomfortable."

As she spoke, she noticed Sven's knees wobbling. He was drunk. His beer breath filled the room. Faith shifted closer to the wall, clutching her crossed legs, silently begging for him to leave. He took a step closer, and she gasped.

"Relax, I'm not gonna do anything. Jesus, you chicks watch too much TV, thinkin' every dude is a rapist or something."

"Whatever you say, man. Look, if you're done, I think it's time you leave."

"Why? You going to sleep?"

"You just shouldn't be in here. If Faust were home, you wouldn't set foot in this room or even think about talking to me."

Sven threw his head back and laughed. "Just because he caught me off guard once doesn't mean I'm afraid of him. He can suck my dick, and so can you."

"Get out," Faith said.

"Hey now, hey... It's all good. Christ, I'm just trying to mend bridges, but you're being a total bitch when I'm here apologizing."

"You just told me I could suck your dick. You're literally insulting me to my face. I've asked you to leave, and you're not!"

Sven pushed air through his teeth, teetered closer to her and sat down on the foot of the bed. Faith's body froze, her limbs stiff as boards as the man laid on his back. His face was a foot from her.

"If it weren't for your boyfriend, I'd be on tour right now. I'd be the one selling out venues and merch, signing shit and having people ask me to take pictures."

"It was your fault."

When the words floated from Faith's mouth, his forehead crinkled, and he shot up. She gasped, scrambling against the wall like a cornered rodent.

"Fuck you! Stupid fucking slut! Faust is a way bigger piece of shit than I am. Ask anybody! Everyone knows how much of an asshole he is. Nobody actually likes him. They're just afraid of him because he threatens to kill anyone whoever disagrees with what he says."

The venom roiled in Faith's stomach, blistering up her neck and filling her mind with violent static. Her hands shook as adrenaline pumped into her veins. One more minute alone with Sven and she thought she might lose control of herself.

Sven got off the bed and went for the bass. Faith hissed at him not to touch it, so he leaned over and spat on the finish.

"Get out!" Faith cried. "Get the fuck out right now!"

The music outside the door must have drowned out her yells, for nobody came looking for her. She stood up on the bed, back pressed against a poster. Sven grabbed at her ankle, but she kicked and slapped the top of her foot against his forearm. He laughed and swiped again as she danced away.

"LEAVE!"

"Make me!"

"I'll fucking call the cops on you!"

"Do it, bitch. I'll knock you out and do what I want before anyone even realizes I'm in here."

"Help!" Faith hollered. "Rape! Rape! He's trying to rape me!"

"Woah, woah, calm down. I didn't say that—"

The venom boiled over, shot up through her esophagus and escaped her mouth in panicked screams. Stunned by the banshee shrieks ripping through the air, Sven backed toward the door, feeling around for the doorknob while Faith screamed her face red, blood vessels popping in her eyes, throwing explosions of stars across her vision until he left the room and she dropped onto the bed, crying. Faith felt around the bed for her phone and called Faust.

He answered on the first ring.

"Faust," she blubbered.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm coming home right now."

"W-what?"

"Look over at the computer."

Faith wiped the snot from her nose onto the hoodie's sleeve and glanced at the desk where the computer monitor stood. "Huh? I don't understand."

"See that light right beside the monitor? Wave at it."

Faith lifted her hand. She squinted at the blue dot belonging to a small camera set up between a speaker and the monitor.

"I installed a Bluetooth camera before leaving for tour. Don't trust people to not go into my room and touch my stuff."

"You mean—?"

"I saw everything. Heard everything, too. It's motion-activated."

Faith paled at the thought of Faust watching her cleaning his room, the way she'd caressed his clothes on her face and huffed his scent before Sven came in.

"What should I do, Faust? He's still out there."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"Should I call the cops?"

"No, don't call anyone. Don't say anything. I said I'll take care of it."

"Okay," she whispered.

"Faith, I'm serious. Let me handle this," his voice was stern.

"What're you gonna do?"

Faust went quiet for a moment until she motioned at the camera. He sighed. "I can't tell you right now."

The adrenaline depleted, and Faith let out a sob. "I need you, Faust. I'm scared."

"Don't be scared, babe. I got you. I'll be home as soon as I can, but I need you to be strong. Don't talk to anyone about what happened until I get there, understand? Nobody. Not your friends, not your parents, don't write it in your journal or breath a word. I promise I'll make it better."

[6452291-1]

Colors - Part 2

Summary: Jersey has always been fascinated by color, she loves the way they contrast and change. Painting has always been her outlet she can’t tear her eyes away from the movement and all the directions they take her in. She cant help but feel those same feelings with her brother-in-laws best friend. When he needs a place to stay Jersey less than graciously agrees to let him stay with her. 

Word count: 2,661 words

Green

The mid-August weather of Brooklyn was warm and humid.

Sometimes she missed London where the weather chilled a bit earlier in the year, only because she wasn’t too fond of walking the five blocks between her apartment and the bar without a jacket to cover her uniform.

It was her own fault for not being better at breaking habits. When she first came to Brooklyn the bar was called Toxcity, ironically, and the owner's required uniform was a black or white tank top with black bottoms, he was a perverted old man who preferred to “show off” his female employees. She got so used to the uniform that when Zay and his wife, Jo, bought out the bar, she continued to wear it. Despite their insistence that a uniform wasn't required.

Toxcity also used to be a hangout for business men who were all too desperate to be in their twenties again without a thought of wives or children to go home to. This unfortunately meant wandering hands and inappropriate remarks towards her appearance.

When Toxcity became Free Father, Jersey had to remind herself she could scold customers who got too comfortable. Zay had told a man that he could keep his hands to himself or get out of his bar after the man had put his hand far too low on Jersey's back. She had been shocked that her boss would stand up for her, especially after the previous owner had told her that customer service meant making sure the customer is happy no matter what, Zay pulled her aside and told her that she can speak to unruly customers however she saw fit.

He was one of the first people that she fully trusted after living in brooklyn for over a year, other than her sister and Steve of course.

Jason was the only other person she could find herself able to trust. After him she found new habits that she could never break no matter how hard she tried.

Jersey broke out of her thoughts of the past when she arrived at the door of Free Father. The dark olive green paint was beginning to peel away from wear of cold winters and brazen summers.

Walking inside was like a breath of fresh air, literally, the cool air blasting against her skin in contrast to the heated air coming from outside.

Jo was waiting at the end of the bar, her petite frame carrying a tray of beer. “You are late Carter,” the look on her face was stern aimed towards Jersey, but the faintest smile hid behind her pursed lips, “ten minutes late to be exact.”

As she approached the bar, Jersey took the tray from Jo and just smiled cheesily in response, “what table?”

“Four,” Jo called after the girl as she walked off to serve the three men, “don’t think you're getting away without an explanation missy.” Zay may have been the official owner of the bar but Jo was the boss.

The kitchen door burst open and Zay emerged with a fresh bucket of ice for the bar, his dark hair full of grease slicked back on the top of his head “Ahhh I see Miss Carter has decided to grace us with her presence”, he grinned from ear to ear the ends of his mustache curling up, “now what could have kept our most punctual employee from showing up ten minutes ago.”

Six pm never ushered in as many guests on Sunday nights, only three tables were occupied, a few men meeting for a drink after a long weekend, and two families snacking on nachos and fries from the small menu.

“I have a perfectly good excuse for being late,” Jersey sat across from the couple and clasped her hands together while pointing at them.

“Before you open your mouth to say that we got you drunk last night, remember that you had lots of time to pop a painkiller and drink some water before leaving for work.”

Jersey shut her mouth then quickly opened it again, “Okay fine I had a surprise guest show up at my apartment this morning,” they gave her a look as if to tell her to continue.

“He, shut up,” she said as they shared a look, “is Steve's best friend. His name is James and my sister's infernal dog chewed through their couch bed thing, and Steve showed up with James at my apartment at 10 am to tell me I was going to be hosting.”

Jo and Zay shared another look before turning to give her a playful smile “where are you both sleeping?” 

The huff of air that came from Jerseys mouth was enough to elicit a chuckle from Jo her smile reaching her green eyes that crinkled at the corners, “we’re not going to be sharing a room you pervs im taking the couch and I've cleaned out the bedroom so its livable for an actual human being.”

“Any chance I get to meet this new roommate of yours,” she leaned in and put her head in her hands trying to give her best puppy dog eyes.

Jersey snorted and stood from the bar “not if I have anything to say about it,” she gripped the edge of the counter and leaned in “and, your puppy dog eyes only work on your husband.”

She pushed off and turned to check on the tables and seat a couple that had just walked in.

“Hi, welcome to Free Father, is it just the two of you?” the couple nodded in response “well we have table seating and bar seating will you be eating with us tonight?” Another nod in response. “Okay then you can follow me.”

The couple was young, only a few years younger than Jersey, the woman was stiff and seemed nervous, the man didn’t look nervous but he couldn't stop looking between his shoes and the girl. It’s definitely a first date, Jersey thought, they probably share a college class and she caught his eye. Maybe they got to be friends and he finally got up the courage to ask her out, and now he's nervous but grateful she said yes, and she's just hoping it doesn't end badly so she doesn’t lose a good friend. Jersey sat them at a table away from the other people in the bar and took their drink order. From behind the bar she could see him set his hand lightly on her arm, the woman's demeanor softened and she finally smiled.

It was a feeling she could remember from years ago, when she met Jason, one touch from him and she was calm and comfortable. She could still feel his warm chestnut skin sliding down her arm and burning into her hand, her eyes shut tightly as she waited for his next move. She missed the time before when she was ecstatic to go home after work and fall into the arms of the man she loved.

~_~_~_~

Warm rays of light shone in through the bedroom window, Jersey slowly opened her tired eyes and was met with golden brown illuminated by the sun. His eyes bore right through her but a smile played on his lips. She hummed a silent question smiling back at him.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he punctuated his words with a light kiss to her forehead. Her smile reached so far up that her eyes almost closed.

She leaned in and pressed their lips together, “is it too early to tell you that I love you?” she mumbled against his mouth.

“After only one month… hmm absolutely not, cause I love you too” he connected their lips once again pulling her in close.

~_~_~_~

“Jersey I need some help over here,” Jo’s voice echoed through her head, “Carter, hey you there?”

She looked at Jo in a daze, taking a few seconds to grasp what she had said, “yeah sorry, what do you need help with?”

Jo nodded towards the kitchen directing Jersey to follow her, “closing chores I need help with the oil cause Zay had to run home early,”  she smiled sarcastically, “our sweet dog Timber got out and ran to the neighbors. Needless to say they were not happy to be woken up at 1 am by barking and scratching at their back door,” she chuckled at the image of the couple's elderly neighbor and her son being pulled from their beds to let in the 50 pound bulldog who wanted attention.

“I'm sure they were thrilled to see Timber, I bet they were even happy to let him drool on all of their belongings,” the two shared a laugh at the thought as Jo pulled the oil trap out and in front of the fryer.

Jo was quiet for a moment fiddling with the cap to empty the fryer, “so… James” was all that came out.

Jersey gave her a knowing look “what about him?”

“I was just wondering if, you know,” Jersey raised her eyebrows, and Jo huffed in response. “Is he cute, does he seem nice, how likely is it that you might, I don't know, ask him out?” She tried to sound casual but Jersey knew what she was getting at.

A defeated sigh fell from Jersey's lips, “Jo im not ready to start dating again, Peggy already tried to convince me to get involved with him and i'll tell you what i told her. I like being single.”

This time Jo was the one to raise her eyebrows, “i'm not going to tell you that you can't be happy being single but, are you really not ready or are you not letting yourself be ready? Plus once I'm more pregnant I'm going to need to live vicariously through you.”

“So you dont want me to date for actual romance purposes you just want me to date so you can forget that in less than a year youre going to have a sex interupting sleep stealing no down time allowing human taking over your life?” Jersey couldn't help but laugh.

Scoffing Jo raised her hand to chest feigning offense, “but, yes absolutely, that is exactly what I want. We have one toddler at home that already makes it nearly impossible for my husband to touch me.” She reached out and touched Jersey's cheeks and brushed her hair back as her mother would, “Honestly Jersey youre lucky you've gotten this far without me asking.”

“Well in that case Jo, James is very cute, he is very sweet, and if I was going to start dating again,” she paused and pinched Jo's face, “only for you, it would not be him, it would be a stranger.” 

Jo's face had a pout but it quickly became hopeful, a cheesy grin spreading across her face, “does that mean you're going to start dating again?”

Jersey rolled her eyes and turned back to the fryer putting the cap back on the empty machine. She just smiled at Jo not giving her a definitive answer.

“Oh come on, do it for me.”

~_~_~_~

The stairwell in Jersey’s apartment building smelled of weed and essential oils, the air fresheners were the landlord's attempt at dissolving the smell of burning marijuana. The cold metal railing lining the stairs felt good after her walk home, the air was cooler than it was when she left for work but it didn't stop the humidity from sticking to her skin. She fiddled with her keys and ran her hand up the back of her neck wiping away the hair that had stuck to the humid skin.

When she reached the third floor the stark contrast of fern green carpet meeting linoleum told her she was close to her apartment. Renovations were still being done on the first two floors; they had been recarpeted with dark blue and the walls repainted a bright white. Until they got to her floor she was stuck with the mucky carpet and off white walls that reflected the incandescent bulbs and created a strange orange glow.

Jersey unlocked the door to her apartment and closed it lightly behind her, dropping her keys onto the table beside her. She sighed deeply, realizing how exhausted she was. She would normally change her clothes and take off her makeup before going to bed, but the thought of wrapping up in a blanket and passing out on her couch sounded much better than anything. 

After kicking off her black boots Jersey grabbed a blanket off the reclining chair and jumped onto the couch expecting to be met with a plush cushion. What she found instead was a hard and lumpy surface.

Startled she fell on the floor trapped by her blanket, “what the,” Bucky sat up quickly and looked down at Jersey, “oh shit, are you okay,” he reached out his hand for her to take helping her to her feet.

“Yeah, I'm fine, what are you doing out here?” She realized she sounded harsh but she was so tired before and after falling on the ground she was fully awake and  wouldn't be able to fall asleep for another hour.

She could barely make out the confusion on his face in the dark room, “what do you mean, I thought you were okay with me staying here?”

Jersey walked over to the lamp at the edge of the couch and tugged on its chain illuminating the room. “No, I mean not that, yes of course you can stay here, but what are you doing on the couch?” 

She could clearly see his confused expression now, not sure why she was asking, “where am I supposed to sleep,” he chuckled lightly, “isn’t it normally polite for a guest to sleep on the couch.”

“I cleaned out the bedroom because you were staying with me.” She stated it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you’re supposed to sleep in there.”

Bucky’s mouth opened to protest, “I can't make you sleep on the couch in your own apartment,” he tried, but she was already pushing him towards the bedroom.

He tried to speak again but she just shushed him “goodnight James.” The way she said it was as if she was scolding a small child, before pulling the door shut behind her.

Jersey sighed and went into the bathroom to remove her makeup and change into comfier clothes. She decided to just wipe her face down with a wipe and thoroughly wash her face the next day in the shower. She knew she should wake up early and take care of her chores but Monday was her day off and all she wanted to do was sleep.

In the other room Bucky looked around before deciding to give in and listen to the girl, laying down in the cool blue sheets trying to get comfortable again. He could hear her shuffling around outside the door mumbling to herself. When her movement stopped he shut his eyes and dozed off.

She laid on the couch and stared at her ceiling waiting for exhaustion to weigh down on her eyes once more. She couldn't help but think about James laying in her bed, in her sheets, he had been wearing a dark green t-shirt that loosely clung to his chest and basketball shorts that sat low on his hips. Jersey couldn't shake the feeling it gave her. He immediately reached down to help her off the floor, he had lifted her with ease and rested a hand on her shoulder, only for a moment to steady her. He was a stranger yet he treated her more kindly than she had ever known. Her eyes finally fluttered shut, and her mind only drifted to Jason for a few seconds before her mind turned off.

She dreamt of tight green fabric and her fingers smoothing over broad shoulders, the feeling James put in her stomach fueling her imagination.

~_~_~_~

@pono-pura-vida

[raiseyourcups]

I got you something

A Cabur One Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (Aili Verdella) Warnings: none other than that word count, and all the unexpected semi-fluff coming from these two, oh and Mando slips up and calls Aili a word in Mando’a (oops) Word Count: 3.7k (yeah I don’t know how that happened either) Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: It’s Life Day which means Aili and Mando have to get presents for each other and the Child. One is easy to shop for but what do you get someone that you are barely becoming able to tolerate in your space? Aili and Mando are about to find out.

Note: takes place after Tatooine but I don’t really mention what will happen in those chapters of Cabur so no spoilers there (I mean other than Toro Calican still betrays them but that's not really a spoiler since it happened in show)

They had stopped on some random planet, needing more supplies and they were both equally confused by how busy the market was. Aili held Little Green a little tighter in her arms, not enough to hurt him but she didn’t like taking him into crowds. Too much could go wrong in crowds. She looked up at Mando, a question in her eyes. 

“We need supplies,” he shrugged though she could see the way his shoulders were tense and he was keeping one hand by his holster.

“We’ll meet back up here in thirty minutes?” Aili asked. She could barter for things quickly but she wasn’t sure about the Mandalorian. He seemed to be thinking it over before he finally nodded. 

“If you run into any trouble, just scream or something.”

“I’m a grown woman, I’m not going to scream when I can deal with the problem myself.” Aili tried not to sound too insulted but she felt the way her face scrunched up in irritation. 

“With the Child in hand?” Mando asked, tilted his helmet to the side. He knew that he had been able to take out a few of the other hunters back on Nevarro when he rescued the Child but then he was stuck on a lift with nowhere to go. 

“Especially if I have the Child with me.” Aili gave him one last shake of her head before she turned to leave for the closest booth. It was a small fruit stand but they seemed to be selling jewelry as well. It wasn’t the oddest set-up Aili had seen but it was pretty weird. 

She picked a couple of fruits, handing over the credits before putting everything away in the stachel she usually carried Little Green in. The woman running the booth smiled wide at her and leaned forward. “Have you bought this little one a present yet?”

“I’m sorry?” Aili asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Why would she buy a present on a random day?

The woman’s smile faded and her own brow furrowed but in disappointment. “For Life Day? Have you bought him a present yet?”

Aili had a moment of panic, it couldn’t be Life Day yet. Could it? “Um.”

“Oh dear, well good thing I know just the booth you should head to.” The woman seemed to understand the panic that Aili was now feeling. “If you head down that way, there’s a booth where the woman sells handmade toys that are perfect for his age. And I noticed you were travelling with a Mandalorian?”

“Yes?”

“That’s a lot of armor, bet it’s hard to keep clean.”

Aili really hoped the woman wasn’t trying to suggest that she was the one who cleaned Mando’s armor because she wasn’t a housewife. She wasn’t even a wife of any kind, just because she was carrying a child with her and picking out fruits...

But she did have to get him something now that she knew it was Life Day and he had yet to kick her off the Crest despite her multiple threats against him. It was just the principle of the matter now. Plus this woman did not look like she would take no for an answer. “I think he might need something more like a new comlink, maybe a matching set?”

“Even better,” the woman smiled before pointing towards another booth. “That’s where you’ll want to go for comlinks.”

“Thank you,” Aili was about to leave when a bracelet caught her eye. It was made of small beads, mostly black but with a colorful pattern of beads in the middle. She partially reached out before shaking her head and turning to leave, one last smile for the woman. She didn’t notice the woman tilt her head in thought before looking to see where the Mandalorian was and a smile crossing her face. 

Aili headed for the first booth the woman had pointed out, picking out a toy for Little Green. Okay so maybe she bought two so he could stop looking at her with those wide pleading eyes and grabby hands. One toy for now, one for later. She glanced around to see where Mando was, seeing him at the booth with the woman she had just been talking to. Good.

She walked as fast as she could over to the other booth the woman had pointed out, this one run by a girl younger than Aili but that wasn’t saying much. There was grease on her face and she was tinkering with something rather than looking to get people to come to her booth. She looked up as Aili walked up, a bored expression on her face. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah I heard you have comlinks,” Aili said.

“Depends, what kind do you want?” She kept tinkering with the piece of tech in her hands and Aili was impressed that she didn’t even have to look at it to repair it. That meant she spent a lot of time working with tech and knew it like the back of her hand. 

“A connected pair, one handheld and if possible, one that can get fitted for a Mandalorian helmet,” Aili requested, running her hands over a few of the other things on display that seemed like they could be useful. She pulled her hands away, they didn’t need any of that right now. 

That got the younger woman’s attention as she placed what she was working on down and she stood up from her seat in order to lean towards Aili. “A Mandalorian helmet? You have one?” 

“I’m travelling with a Mandalorian and we don’t have decent comlinks.”Aili really wasn’t lying, they didn’t have comlinks at all but she didn’t see herself parting ways from Mando any time soon. That meant they needed a way to communicate if something went wrong and they didn’t want anyone else listening in. 

“Can I install it? I’ve never been able to get my hands on one but it’s been on my bucket list for ages.”

Aili winced knowing that there was no way Mando would let that happen. Unless…

“Would you be available on Life Day?” Aili asked, knowing that this was still a long shot but she had to try. “I’ll pay extra for a second handheld as well.”

The woman waved her hand, “Please, I’ll throw the second one in for free if you can get me alone with that helmet for however long it takes me to install the comlink.”

“We’re parked in the bay, it’s the Razor Crest. You really can’t miss that piece of...something,” Aili commented, once again missing her ship. 

“Oh Maker, a Razor Crest? You two must be close.”

“Yeah, sure.” Aili said bluntly, mouth pulled into a thin line. “How much for it all?”

“250, Life Day and bucket list discount. It’ll be ready by Life Day.”

Aili pulled out 300 credits and handed them to the woman who took them excitedly. Aili was about to thank her and leave when she paused. “Stupid question, but we’ve been in space for too long, how long until Life Day?”

“Day after tomorrow,” the woman shrugged like she didn’t care about the short timeframe. “They’ll be ready.”

“Thanks.” Aili finally turned to leave knowing that she had taken much longer than the 30 minutes that she and Mando had agreed on. She was already ready to tune out whatever lecture he tried to give her. She was still a grown woman who could clearly handle herself. 

“You’re late.”

“Had to order something,” Aili said lightly. “We’ll need to stay until the day after tomorrow.”

“It’s not-”

“Safe? Mando, it’s almost Life Day, it’s the safest we could be on any planet.” Aili interrupted before he could go into a lecture. She really didn’t want to hear it. “Now can we head back to the ship? The kid’s tired and I could use a nap too.”

She stared up at Mando and waited with a raised eyebrow to see if he would try to continue the conversation. He stared down at her before letting out a long sigh, nodding his helmet towards the bay where they had landed. Aili let a smile cross her face now, knowing that she had gotten her way. Now to figure out how to get his helmet off and the new comlink installed without breaking his Creed. That was a problem for day after tomorrow Aili though.

*Run away to a place where you can breathe*

The morning of Life Day was an early one for Aili, she had gotten up before both Mando and Little Green in order to meet up with the woman to pick up the handheld comlinks. They also set up a time for her to come to the Crest in order to attempt to put the comlink in Mando’s helmet. Aili admittedly didn’t have a plan for that just yet. But that was a problem for early-afternoon Aili, not early-morning Aili who hadn’t even had caf yet.

She got back onto the Crest as quietly as she could, the silence telling her that hopefully both Mando and Little Green were still asleep.

“Where did you go?”

“Dank farrik!” Aili exclaimed as she jumped slightly, her hands coming up in fists before she put them back down. She turned to glare at Mando who was leaning against the wall panel to her immediate right. Little Green was nowhere to be seen so he was probably still sleeping.  “Don’t do that!”

“Where did you go?” Mando repeated his question, still waiting for an answer from Aili. 

“I had a package to pick up, I told you that two days ago.”

“Before the suns are up?”

“If you’re accusing me of something, just come out and say it.” Aili crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring up at Mando with her lips pursed as she waited for him to speak. “Well?”

“I--you left without telling me.”

Aili blinked at him dumbly before she took a breath to calm herself before she spoke again. “Again, you knew I had a package to get. Look, it’s Life Day and I don’t feel like arguing. I was picking up your present and yes, before you ask, I got you something.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t kicked me off your ship despite threatening to kill you multiple times? I don’t know,” Aili explained, shrugging her shoulders. She couldn’t explain why she felt the need to buy the gift. It wasn’t as simple as buying Little Green a stuffed animal, that was easy to explain to herself. A bit of normalcy for him after they had to leave Sorgan and all the other kids behind. She convinced herself it was something practical and barely a gift since half was for her. 

Mando finally pushed away from the wall but kept staring at Aili. Sometimes she really hated not being able to see his face, she had to rely on body language to know what he was thinking. But this was one of those times where she couldn’t read it. She heard him take in a breath when he was interrupted by a cry and they both turned towards it. 

Aili didn’t give Mando the chance to even take a single step before she was off towards the hatch of the cot to get Little Green. She shushed him as she picked him up, rocking him a little once he was in her arms. “Hey, buddy, do you know what today is?”

He let out a little sniffle, wide brown eyes still watery because he had woken up to no one in the cot with him. He reached up to place his hands in Aili’s hair like he usually did when she was holding him and it was down. She smiled a little and lifted him in her arms more so he didn’t pull on her hair too hard. Even if she had looked up she wouldn’t have seen the way Mando was looking at the pair of them with a soft smile on his own face, not with the helmet hiding his face from her. 

“It’s Life Day which means presents...and a lot of caf for me,” Aili said in a bit of a sing-song tone. It was the same one she had used on Shaeli and Jaesa when she had first brought them to the Covert. They had a hard time with her leaving since she was the only mother-like figure they had known and they were still so young. Little Green let out a coo at the mention of presents. Aili glanced up at Mando, a question in her eyes as she subtly nodded down at Little Green, and she let a smile cross her face when he nodded back. Good.

“Well then shall we open some presents?”

Little Green was happily playing with his new stuffed animals, on his blanket on the floor beside the table where Aili and Mando awkwardly sat with their gifts for each other. Aili had gotten the kid a porg the day they went to the market that he had been sleeping with but she had also gotten him a little stuffed vulptex, surprised they had even had one. Mando had gotten him a stuffed mudhorn and she assumed it was somehow significant because Little Green had let out the loudest happy noise when he saw it. Even Mando had let out a chuckle at the sound. 

“Do you want to go first or should I?” Aili asked, her hands clutching the small box that the tech had given her. She didn’t even know why she was nervous. 

“Here.” Mando said awkwardly as he passed a small wrapped package towards her. She took it and unwrapped it before just staring in surprise. 

Maker, she was getting soft. Aili stared down at the bracelet that she had been staring at when they had been at the market. She hadn’t even known he had seen her but now him going to that booth made more sense. She finally looked up at him, still taken aback but with a small smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“I noticed you wanted it but,” Mando started to say but stopped himself and he settled for a small shrug. He had spent the last couple of days telling himself that it had been stupid to buy it. But the look on Aili’s face was worth it, the smile unexpected but a welcome surprise.

“Um, I didn’t have time to wrap yours but here,” Aili said as she slid the box the tech had given her, across the small table. She watched as Mando took it, opening it slowly and then his helmet tilted to the side. It wasn’t as personal as the bracelet he had given her but it was practical and he was a practical man. 

“Comlinks?”

“They’re, um, locked in on a private setting so no one else will be able to intercept the comms. I just figured we needed them,” Aili trailed off with a small shrug. 

Mando stared at her for a long moment before looking back down at the comlinks in his hands. He passed one back over to Aili, tucking the one he kept into one of the many pockets on his belt. “Thank you.”

“There’s also...another comm but the tech wanted to install it herself. I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with it though.”

Mando tilted his helmet to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“So first, I know what your Creed entails, no one can remove your helmet, no one can see you without it but um, I figured we could figure something out and-” Maker, why was she so kriffin’ nervous about asking a simple question?

“Aili, just say what you’re trying to say.”

“She worked out a way to install the comlink directly inside your helmet and connected to your vambrace but obviously in order to do that,” Aili trailed off again, this time biting her lip knowing that it had been a dumb idea and that Mando would never go for it. 

“I’d have to remove my helmet.” Mando stated, the tone in his voice unreadable to even Aili who had been slowly learning to hear past the voice modulator. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I knew it was a stupid idea and I should’ve just stuck with the handhelds. I’ll let her know,” Aili said, fidgeting with the bracelet now, running her fingers over the beads. She silently counted the colored beads that felt slightly different than the black ones. There were seven of them.

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much did they cost?”

Aili took a moment, knowing she was going to have to lie a little and hope Mando couldn’t see through her. “300 but it’s fine, I had the extra credits and I figured we needed them just in case of another Toro situation and-”

“Mesh’la it-” Mando interrupted before he paused for a long moment, tense as if he was waiting for something to happen. 

Aili’s brow furrowed as she wracked her brain, going through all the Mando’a words she had learned but that was not one of them. She didn’t think at least but there were a lot she didn’t know, she had mainly wanted to know the insults. “I..is that another word for idiot or something?”

Mando let out the breath he had been holding, relief that Aili couldn’t see crossing his face. “No, it’s a-it’s not an insult. I promise.”

“Uh-huh.” Aili hummed, not sure she believed him. But he hadn’t said it like an insult, her ears had registered it as more exasperated so she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like she could open the HoloNet and look it up though so she would just take his word for it. But for now she would take his word for it. 

“She can install the comlink,” Mando finally said without any preamble. 

“What?”

“I’ll go up to the cockpit, leave my...leave my helmet and vambrace outside the door and she can install the comm.”

“Seriously?” Aili hadn’t expected him to agree in a million years. 

“Yes. But you’ll have to keep the Child down here with you.” He made it sound like that would be a hardship for her like he wasn’t the one who was about to remove his helmet and hope that Aili didn’t go back on her word to stay out of the cockpit. 

“Of course. We'll have a great time playing mudhorn vs porg vs vulptex so really you'll be the one missing out." 

*Run away to a place without painful tears*

“Thank you again.” Aili smiled at the tech as she packed up her travel kit. Aili was holding Mando’s helmet in her hands, his vambrace in the crook of her elbow as she was careful not to hit any of the buttons. 

“Seriously don’t mention it, I’m just excited that I finally got to have a look at a Mando helmet.” The look of manic excitement on the tech’s face reminded Aili of some of her only "happy" memories from growing up. Like when she had been given brand new blasters to try in the field, the manic grin on her face the first time she saw a seismic charge in action and was told that next time she'd be the one to set it off.

“Still, you came all the way out here on Life Day.”

“This was the best present I could have received so,” the tech grinned and shrugged. “Come back if something isn’t working right though.”

“Will do.” Aili waved as the tech left and she closed the gangway before she checked to make sure Little Green was still in his cradle, his earlier playing tiring him out. It hadn't taken Aili long to rock him to sleep at all, he was out before the tech had even finished working on the helmet. 

She headed for the ladder that led to the cockpit and placed Mando's things down right in front of the doors. She knocked only loud enough for him to hear her. "I'm heading back down, take as much time as you need." Then she slid back down the ladder and busied herself, picking up the toys still lying around and folding the small blanket they used as Little Green's play space when they needed him in one spot. 

She had just finished when she heard Mando speak but he wasn’t in the room. Her brow furrowed until she remembered the comlink in her own pocket. “Mando?”

“Just testing it out,” he replied. Aili was surprised by how clear his voice sounded but she supposed that was what she had hoped for when she asked for it to be installed into the helmet itself. 

“Wow, that sounds really good. How does it sound on your end?” Aili asked into her comlink.

“As clear as transparisteel.” 

Aili jumped, Mando’s voice not just coming from the comlink but from right behind her. “I am going to get you a bell if you sneak up on me again.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all but Aili was going to let that slide as she clicked off her comlink. 

“It’s fine, I’m just glad it’s working.”

“Thank you.”

Aili stared up at him, almost waiting for one of them to make a snarky comment but it never came. She opened her mouth to say something when Little Green made a noise and they both looked over at him simultaneously. His face was scrunched up and Aili glanced over at the chronometer and realized that he was probably hungry. 

“It’s your turn to make food,” she said to Mando as she walked over to Little Green to distract him until the food was ready. Mando stood there in shock for a full minute before he moved for the little area that Aili had designated as the kitchen area. He would never admit out loud, or anywhere near her, that it had been a good idea. He had spent years just eating ration bars grabbed straight from a crate but Aili had taken one look at it and turned to him with an unimpressed look before reorganizing the whole area. 

He prepared a simple meal with the supplies they had bought at the market, listening to Aili and the Child quietly laughing as they played with his new toys. He didn’t want to put a name to the way the sounds made him feel but he knew that he was glad to not be alone on Life Day for another year and secretly hoped that he wouldn’t be again.