#—and will ever exist and they and their grandma notice right away

[vaguely-annoyed]

well well well, if it isn't the feelings i said weren't that deep

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part One: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Smut will come later, not explicit but sensual I guess? (warning now) strong language, angst, fluff.

Summary: This takes place in modern times. Eddie & reader are in early 30s. Eddie is raising his two year old son, Hunter, alone while coping with the death of his son’s mother who he had a complicated relationship with. He runs into an old friend at the bookstore (the reader) and memories of their time together as teenagers flood his brain to a point where he cannot stop thinking about her and the what if’s. This blossoms into a beautiful rekindled friendship and potentially something more.

Word Count: 5.1K

Thirty-four-year-old Eddie Munson hovers over the crib, his eyes bloodshot, he was so tired, but he always made sure to watch him fall asleep. His sweet son, Hunter. He was turning two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. Eddie couldn’t imagine him not existing, even if it didn’t start out the way he wanted to. Hunter’s mother had died six months after he was born; it was a subject Eddie didn’t talk about with many people. Not even his friends. Olivia was sick, she was tired, she thought the easiest way was to just disappear forever. He was angry at her, but he had loved her. In a way they only knew how to love one another. 

Hunter was the best thing that ever happened to him. He reaches his hand over to his face, gently caressing the spot between his eyes, his brown curly hair lined his face perfectly. His lips puckered while he slept, and he would go into random laughing fits in his sleep. Eddie would tell him that it was grandma making him laugh from Heaven. He sighs, taking the video monitor and putting on the white noise machine. 

He walks downstairs and plops himself onto the couch. 

“You’re doing good, Eds.” The voice comes out of the shadows. 

Oh yeah, he also talks to the dead mother of his child. It was worse after she died, then it went away for awhile. Now, it’s been a daily occurrence. He isn’t sure if it’s his way of coping with her death or if he’s actually talking to her, but he wasn’t in the mood. 

“Go away.” He mutters. 

Olivia’s form reaches his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn his head. He couldn’t. The last time he did she didn’t look normal, she looked very dead. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“You keep saying that and I honestly don’t think you are.” He laughs, feeling tears form at the corners of his eyes, he sniffles them back. “It was your choice to leave us. Leave me alone.” 

“I just want you to be happy, Eddie.” Her voice is fading. 

“Who says I’m not happy?” He grumbles, glancing at the time on his phone. “Go say happy birthday to our son and then stay away.” 

He doesn’t feel her presence in the room, and he’s almost relieved. Their relationship was complicated, even before she got pregnant. They were just friends with benefits, met at the hideout and it became a weekly thing. He loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. She felt the same, but they tried to make it work when she got pregnant. He noticed a change in her after Hunter was born, she stopped going to her postpartum appointments, had denied that she was depressed. She was a wonderful mother, but she didn’t think she was good enough. She said so in her note, and it has taken him over a year to prevent himself from lighting it on fire. 

He was grieving, he knew that. But he was grieving more so for Hunter not having a mother. Like himself. Robin has been a big help. She would show up unannounced, demand him to take a nap or shower and she would take care of Hunter. He didn’t say many words but when he would see her, he would say “Teetee”, Auntie was too hard for him right now. He sighs and texts Robin: 

Been hearing her again. 

His phone immediately rings and he groans, sliding it to answer. “You know I hate talking on the phone.” 

“I don’t care. When did it start up again?” He hears the beeping from inside her car and her door shut.

“Robin, you don’t need to come here, I’m fine.” Eddie groans, falling back on the couch, his long hair falling out of its half bun. 

“When did it start?” 

“I don’t know, two weeks ago maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as soon as hears Robin huff. Demanding in the sweetest way possible why he didn’t tell her sooner, and if he needs her to come over more. “Robin…Robin…slow it down. I’m fine. I promise.” 

“Well, I’m still coming over.” 

Eddie groans. “I was just gonna smoke a joint and go to bed.”

“Okay, smoke a joint, I’ll be there in five.” 

She hangs up and Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gets up from the couch, taking the video monitor with him and goes into the two-car garage. He turns the light of the garage on, his truck sat idle in one of the spaces and his Sweetheart, drum set, and musical equipment sat in the other spot. 

He lucked out finding this house; it was a fixer upper, and they gave it to him 3,000 dollars below the asking price. He was able to finish the basement; he did it all himself, with the exceptional help of Robin, Steve and Dustin. It was a two-floor cape house; covered in wall-to-wall carpet. Ripping it up was easy, adding new flooring was not. Uncle Wayne had helped with the rest, and Eddie had settled for area rugs and the house came together beautifully. Hunter took his first steps in the hallway; he got his first bump on his head on the kitchen cabinet when he didn’t know how to slow down when he was “running”. 

Eddie chuckles as he rolls the joint, at the time it wasn’t funny, because Hunter was screaming, and Eddie thought he had brain damage. He remembers Robin saying, “don’t react, don’t react…be calm”. And once he calmed down, Hunter calmed down and went about his business, finding his toy bus and playing with it in the living room. 

He lights the joint, inhaling on it deeply and letting it out slowly of his mouth. He hears Robin’s car pull on the driveway and he carefully lifts up the garage door, her lights blinding him. He waves at her to shut them off and she flicks the high beams at him twice just to add some extra annoyance. 

She giggles, coming out of the car, holding two plastic bags of snacks and drinks. He takes them from her, immediately opening the popcorn. 

“You really didn’t have to come here.” He says, chewing on the popcorn and then inhaling on his joint. He passes it to her, and she takes it willingly. 

“I’m on vacation and Vicky is away for the weekend with her sister.” She passes the joint back to him as they walk back into the garage. “Plus, you need a day off.” 

“I’m on vacation too.” He grumbles, and he was, he took two weeks off from the record shop he co-owned just to spend more time with Hunter and potentially start writing music again. 

“Dude, I mean like a day off.” She says, passing him a soda from the bag. “Me and Hunter can have an auntie day, and you can go run errands or go scream in the woods.” 

Eddie chuckles. “Screaming in the woods does sound appealing.”

“Please just take the day for yourself, man.” She tells him kindly, both finishing off the joint and walking back inside. “You need it.” She peels off her jacket, it was springtime, but the nighttime air was still a bit chilly. 

“I don’t want to put a burden on you, Rob. He can be a handful, and it’s his birthday.” He tells her, moving his way to the living room to check the monitor. 

“He’s obsessed with me. He saves the tantrums for you. I’m not saying go out for the whole day, just go do something for you for a couple hours, and then we can have cake when you get back.” She pats his shoulder, and he laughs. They both sit on the couch; Eddie puts on a music documentary for background noise. 

He feels her eyes on him, and he turns his head to look at her. “Go ahead, ask the question.” 

“Are you really okay?” She asks him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “Okay in what sense?” 

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m okay when I’m with Hunter. When he giggles at something he finds funny, when he grabs my face just press his forehead against mine, when he hugs me. Nighttime lately has been…lonely, I guess.” He groans, hating that he was opening up like this, but Robin could unfortunately read him like a book. 

“Do you miss her?” 

“Of course I do.” He says, sighing loudly after he hesitates. “I miss having a partner, she was so good. And Hunter loved her…” His throat clenches, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m pissed at her for robbing him of a mother. I’m fucking angry, Robin. She had the help in front of her, I don’t understand.” 

Robin is silent for a moment. “Sometimes it’s hard for some people to get out of that darkness. Being in constant pain everyday and just trekking along. It wasn’t your job to save her, Eddie.” 

“I could never leave him like that.” His voice trembles. “He’s everything to me.” 

“And he was everything to her.” Robin says, leaning over to grab his hand. “But sometimes, that isn’t enough.” 

“Well, it should’ve been.” He wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore, the more I talk about her the angrier I get.”

“Has Hunter talked about her?” 

And…we’re still talking about her. 

“Not really, he will stare at her picture and smile. His eyes twinkle like hers, that bright blue mixed with green. It’s beautiful.” He tries to smile. “I just feel like his life is already gonna be fucked up because of this and because I’m his dad.” 

“You’re a great father, Eddie.” 

He’s quiet. 

“I question it sometimes.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t. That little boy loves you.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t know a thing about being a parent, but I know my parents, and they sucked. It’s not easy, but you’re doing your best.” 

He rolls his eyes, groaning, laying his head against her shoulder. “Can’t you just let me be self deprecating for once? I hate that you’re a nice person sometimes.” 

“I hate that you’re mean to yourself. You’re my best friend, and I wish you would just see what I see.” 

“I need to write again.” He sighs. 

“So, write. Go somewhere tomorrow and do that.” She rests her head against his. He pats her knee, sighing. 

“Fine. I will do that…after I express some more self-deprecating behavior.” 

“You’re so annoying, dude.” She laughs, shoving him away. 

“It’s your fault for wanting to be my friend.” 

***

Hunter had woken later than usual; he was happy and giggling and as soon as he saw Robin’s face, he squealed with delight. Eddie had put on one of Hunter’s favorite songs, Let’s Dance by David Bowie and the two of them danced and sang the song to him with goofy faces which made him have full belly laughs. It took Eddie a few pushes from Robin before she could get him out of the house. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but as he drove, he realizes he hasn’t been to the bookstore in a while. He had bought a lot of his music books back in the day from there, along with anything that had to do with the Lord of the Rings. He pulls into the parking lot and steps out, adjusting his jeans and his Knocked Loose t-shirt. As soon as he steps in the doorway, he is hit with a familiar aroma of books. He forgot how soothing it was to just stand there and take it all in. 

He wasn’t sure where to go first; they had done a lot of rearranging of the place. He settled with heading to the children’s section first. He felt like a little kid himself, remembering how it felt to open a new book and see the pictures pop out from the pages. He had a pile in his arms, one of the workers had to give him a basket so his arm wouldn’t fall off. He found children’s board books called Baby Bowie, Baby Janis and Baby Elvis. He found a children’s book rendition of the Goonies and Back to the Future, as well as a cute store about a pack of baby wolves in the woods. He exits the area, completely distracted by his next his adventure into the horror section when he accidentally collides with a woman in the aisle. He drops his basket, as well as causing her to drop her pile of books. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry.” He tells her, squatting down to help her pick up up the books. 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

That voice.

Eddie looks up. 

Your voice. 

The two of you lock eyes; Eddie almost topples over. 

“Oh my god…Eddie?!” You squeal with delight, getting to your feet and Eddie follows, lifting you off your feet as he hugs your waist tightly. He was almost shaking; it had been close to twenty years since he last laid his eyes on you. 

He pulls away to look at you and he smiles. “You haven’t changed.” 

You blush. “Neither have you.” You curl a piece of his hair in your finger. He stares at you and is having a hard time trying to find words as he hands your books to you. 

“How-how long are you in town for?” He asks you quietly, still smiling. 

“Oh, uh…permanently.” You say with a small laugh. “I moved into my parents house…my mom died a few years ago and my dad had to go to nursing home.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says sadly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t know.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to come, Eddie. You got your hands full. How’s your son?” You smile sweetly at him, and his heart does a pitter patter. 

“He’s awesome. He’s two today. He’s at my house hanging out with Robin.” 

“Robin Buckley? How is she?” 

“She’s great, getting married next year to Vicky.” 

Eddie had heard that you were married a few years ago, but he didn’t want to pry when he didn’t see a ring on your finger and the admission that you were living with your parents. You smile, shaking your head and taking out your phone. “You probably should be getting back to Hunter. I would love to catch up though.” You ask him for his number which he gives willingly, and you send Eddie a melting face emoji and he giggles. 

“Got it.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. You sigh, going up on your toes to hug his shoulders. “It was so good to see you.” 

Eddie squeezes your waist, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. It has been a long time since another man held you like this. You pull away and say your goodbyes, going your separate ways. 

Eddie is still dumbfounded when he gets home, he couldn’t believe he ran into you. Robin notices the look on his face, and he tells her everything. 

“Whoa dude, the one who got away.” 

“I mean, not really.” He says, moving Hunter’s curly hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. “The only thing that happened was we kissed, and that was short lived because the cops came to break up the party in the woods.” 

“Kissed key word. Steve and I had been rooting for the two of you that whole summer.” 

Eddie laughs. “We were just friends at that point.” He pulls Hunter in his arms, rocking him gently and he lays his head against Eddie’s chest, ready to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Eddie stares at Hunter, taking him all in as he sometimes does. His beautiful round cheeks, his full lips. The dimples he got from Eddie, so much more prominent. His bright blue eyes stare into his, and his little hand goes up to cup his cheek and Eddie kisses his palm. Robin was watching her best friend from the background, knowing that his little moment he was sharing with Hunter was a moment just for them. Eddie begins singing a soft melody to him, and by the time he’s finished, Hunter is sound asleep in his arms. 

Eddie had placed him in his pack and play in the living room, covering him with his favorite blanket. 

“Go write some music.” Robin says gently. “I’ll hang in here with him.” 

Eddie nods, gently squeezing her hand. “Thank you.” 

Eddie walks in the garage, sighing as he takes a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the cabinet. He barely smokes anymore, but when he needs to write something, a buzz from nicotine will usually do the trick. He sits down on the stool behind the drum set, laying his composition notebook on the snare drum, opening it to a blank page. He lights up the cigarette, letting the fire burn his lungs. He closes his eyes, slowly letting out the smoke. He takes the cap off his pen with his teeth and hovers it over the blank page. 

A sound of a beer can opening…

A cute laugh…

He stares off for a moment, remembering…

A long time ago…

Eddie sits on a broken tree limb, smoking a cigarette and sipping his beer, staring at the bon fire. He was seventeen, sitting by himself while watching his friends socialize. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize tonight; he was already in a bad mood, but Robin and Steve really wanted him at the party. His dad had called from prison, asking Eddie to wire him some money for his canteen. Eddie told him to fuck himself, and his father ended the call to tell him it was the anniversary of his mother Elizabeth’s death. Which he had forgotten about. And he was oddly overcome with so much sadness and grief he didn’t know how else to process it besides sulking. Eddie feels a presence next to him, and turns to see you, gripping an empty beer bottle. 

“Walk with me.” You mutter quietly. 

“What?” Eddie asks you, confusion setting in but also concern on why your hands are trembling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You whisper. “I’m pretty sure one of the dudes over there drugged me…please just walk with me.” 

A burning rage fills up Eddie’s lungs as he looks over at the crowd of football players, passing small glances over at the two of you. Eddie couldn’t fathom why someone would do that…especially to someone like you. Eddie stands up, about to walk over there but you grab his denim jacket in a tight fist. 

“No, Eddie. Walk with me.” You tell him, desperation in your tone and Eddie lets out a sigh and nods. You drop the beer bottle when he takes your hand and the two of you walk down a dark path towards where the moon overlooks the lake. 

You lean against a tree; Eddie watches you as you take in a few deep breaths. He walks towards you, gently taking your hand. 

“Walk me through it, are you feeling it?” He asks you carefully. 

“I don’t know…maybe? My legs feel weird. I know I’m drunk, but my heart won’t stop racing. I feel like I’m gonna get sick.” 

“If you puke it will dial down the effects of the drugs.” Eddie tells you gently, the rage still burning. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, hiccuping and then holding your stomach. “Some douche bag.” 

“I need a name.” 

“No, you don’t, what you need is to hold my hair back because if you keep talking, I’m gonna throw up on your shoes.” You awkwardly stumble into him as you clench your stomach with your arm, and you feel the bile rise to your throat and the vomit come out like a faucet. Eddie’s holding your hair and gently rubbing your back as you violently puke behind the tree. When you feel like you have nothing left from your insides, you groan, leaning back against the tree. You didn’t feel like you were going to black out anymore, but the slight high was still there. 

“There’s…water…in my bag…” you tell him quietly. “Can you get it for me, please?” 

Eddie nods, going through your bag and handing you a steel water bottle. You chug it; Eddie tells you to slow down so you don’t puke again but you wave him off. You slide down to your bottom on the cool ground, your legs covered in dirt. “Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me who it was?” 

You giggle. “No. It’s over with. I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger at a party in the woods.” 

“Don’t victim blame.” Eddie tells you with a smirk. 

“I’m not a victim. You, Eddie Munson were my knight and shining armor who rescued me.” You giggle at how ridiculous you sound. “Sorry, I’m still drunk and I’m trying to keep it together.” 

Eddie laughs, sitting next to you. His heart doing a pitter patter as he stares at you. Steve and Robin had introduced you to him two summers ago. You had hung out together but never alone like this, he couldn’t get over your beauty. Even in the moonlight, your features were breathtaking. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed a little off all night.” 

Eddie is caught off guard by your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles at you, taking out his cigarettes. 

“Those are bad for you.” You smirk at him. “Haven’t you seen those commercials?” 

“Yup.” He laughs, twirling the lighter in his hands. “I won’t smoke if it bothers you.” 

“No, it’s fine, cause I’m probably gonna ask you for one.” You laugh. 

“But these are bad for you.” Eddie teases and you gently nudge him with your foot. 

“Give me one.” 

Eddie laughs, taking two from his pack, and handing you one. He lights yours first, the flame illuminating your face as you inhale deeply, you only cough a little and you lean your head back against the tree. The two of you sit in silence, your anxiety was subsiding. His presence alone was making you feel safe, comfortable. 

“I was thinking about my mom.” Eddie tells you after a moment and you glance over at him, he’s not sure why he told you, he guesses he just needed to say it out loud. “Today is her anniversary…and I forgot. So, I feel like a shitty son.” 

You lean closer to him. “I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s just a lifelong thing I have to deal with I guess.” 

You inhale on the cigarette, letting it billow from your nostrils. “My dad lost both of his brothers during Vietnam. His older brother got killed over there and his other brother came home but never left until he took his life. I remember being young and asking him how it feels to grow up without them, how they stay the same age, and he gets older, approaching their ages year after year. I think I caught him off guard because it took him awhile to say what he said. But he said, ‘it feels like being trapped in a current, one side of the water is pulling you towards where you don’t want to go, and the other side is fighting against you. You can either swim with all your might to avoid it until you’re exhausted, or you can let the current slowly carry you. That’s what grief is, it’s never ending, sometimes it’s okay to fight against it, but sometimes it’s not. It’s just empty love’.” 

Eddie stares in awe at you, feeling tears creep up into the corners of his eyes. “Wow. I never thought of it like that.” 

“Me either, but I’ve also never lost anyone.” You sigh, glancing at his solemn face. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie hesitates. “From what I remember. She’s why I love music, so I guess when I play music or write songs, I take her with me.” 

You smile, and gently rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses a little but relaxes, resting his cheek against the top of your head. This felt natural to you, and it surprisingly felt natural to Eddie. You didn’t even know what time it was, and in that moment you didn’t care. You could stay curled next to him forever. 

“Will I feel like this tomorrow?” You whisper. 

His curly hair tickles your forehead. “You’re probably gonna have a headache in the morning. Drink a lot of water.” 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there…or if my first instinct wasn’t to come find you.” You lean your head up to look at his face and he meets your eyes, his heart racing over how close your faces were. “Thank you.” 

Eddie smiles, gently squeezing your hand. “Don’t need to thank me. You could give me a name though.” 

“Nope.” You laugh and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“I’m gonna find out eventually.” He says, snuffing the cigarette out on a rock. 

“And you’re going to do nothing because I told you to do nothing.” You say, meeting his brown eyes, staring at them and he stares back at you. “Did you know that your eyes have a bit of gold in them? They’re beautiful.” 

Eddie blushes and giggles. “You’re just drunk.” He bumps you with his shoulder. 

“No, well, yes but…I never noticed them before.” You move your hand up to cup his face and he almost flinches. “There’s a lot I didn’t notice before.” 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, carefully turning towards you so your knees are touching. He lifts his hand to curl a piece of hair behind your ear and you tremble. You lean towards his lips, and he pulls back a little, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure? You’re still drunk, I don’t want you to—"

“Just kiss me, you dork.” You laugh and he smiles shyly. He leans carefully towards you, slightly trembling as his soft lips press against yours. A thousand volts goes through your entire core as you kiss him, and he wonders why he never got the guts to kiss you before now. The kiss deepens, and you push your body closer to his as he cups the back of your head. His other hand grips your waist, and you sigh, sitting on his lap. 

“COPS!” 

Someone yells as they run past you two, and your lips pull away quickly. You could hear the sirens by the fire and the sound of walkie talkies. The two of you scramble to your feet, you grab your bag, and he takes your hand, both going into a sprint through the woods. You couldn’t stop laughing, the excitement of kissing him as well as the adrenaline from escaping the cops was making you feel all kinds of giddy. When the two of you felt comfortable enough to slow down, you both end up on a quiet road, which was near your house, the silence was calming, and you had to catch your breath from the laughing. 

“That was insane.” You laugh. “I’ve never run from the cops before.” 

“It’s a cake walk for me now.” Eddie laughs, taking your hand as you two walk silently towards your street. Thunder booms over head, rain begins to pelt you both. You laugh loudly as the rain becomes torrential and you’re running again to the sidewalk in front of your house. He walks you to the front door, the awning shielding you both from the rain and you giggle, moving your wet hair from your face. 

Eddie laughs, picking a piece of a leaf that landed in your hair. You smile at him, clearing your throat. 

“I had a lot of fun.” You tell him and he smiles. 

“Yeah, me too.” He grins. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll message you if I need you to pull me out of a black out.” You joke. 

“Don’t scare me because I will sleep outside your window.” 

You smile at him, gently patting his face. “Thank you for everything, Eddie.” 

Eddie gently cups your chin, smiling. “Don’t need to thank me.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, opening your screen door quietly. You stop at the door, looking up at him. You lean up on your toes, kissing him softly on the lips and open your front door. You wave to him from your foyer, telling him to text you when he got home safely. 

Eddie walked through the rain that night with a smile on his face, still feeling the tingle of your lips against his. 

It was a feeling he hasn’t felt before, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to lose it yet. 

Eddie groans, closing his notebook. He didn’t write anything, he was in a daze, thinking of you, remembering that kiss. The kiss that sealed the deal that you were the girl of his dreams, but then life happened, you never really saw each other again. But he always thought about you, always wondered what if, even when he was with Olivia. He sighs, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling to the text message you had sent him earlier. 

He didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He didn’t know if it was too soon to reach out to you or if you were waiting for him. Coffee was innocent enough, right? He needed to find a babysitter first, only for a few hours. He couldn’t ask Robin again, he felt too bad, but he knew she would say yes. He felt extremely guilty suddenly; he shouldn’t be leaving him with babysitters. 

“Text her.” Olivia’s voice comes out of the shadows and Eddie gasps loudly, falling off the drum stool. 

“Fuck.” Eddie says, catching his breath. “Go away.” 

“Not until you text her.” He could feel her presence, and his hands tremble as he keeps his eyes fixed on the high hat. He knew she was right behind him, but he wouldn’t look. 

“You’re an actual nightmare.” He mutters, reaching for his phone. 

“Take Hunter with you if you have to.”

“No, I don’t want to confuse him.” 

“How would you confuse him?”

“She’s not you.” Eddie says, his heart slowly breaking.

“No, she’s not. But, Eddie…this will be good for you, for both of you.”

Eddie stares at the blinking cursor on the text thread, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He doesn’t feel Olivia’s presence anymore and quickly types up a message, hitting send.

Hi, I’m not sure if you have plans or not tomorrow, but would you like to meet for coffee in the morning? There’s a café near my house where they have cake pops that Hunter loves. I hope you don’t mind that he tags along.

She responds immediately: Why would I mind? He’s your son. Of course I would love to meet for coffee. 8am okay?

Eddie smiles. That sounds perfect. 

[greensagephase]

a random thought/imagine because I NEED to run into a Miguel at a Mexican party and falling in love with him! @fairlyang 's post got me going, I was going to reblog my crazy scenario through their post, and then this turned TOO LONG (I'm delusional, so that's why this is so detailed)!!

If you're not Latina/Mexican - just hear a delusional woman out plsssss (me hoping to manifest by writing this fr fr)

Going to a Mexican party, sitting at a table with my family because soy una muchacha seria y callada (I'm a serious and quiet girl), so I'm not on the dance floor, but I see Miguel in the crowd with the other men talking, dressed with a sombrero and botas (cowboy hat and boots), wearing gold jewelry (he's Mexican he has to wear gold jewelry, sorry not sorry).

I'm trying very hard not to stare and make it obvious because my fam is there and I'm a good family girl, a proper señorita, who hasn't been with anyone nor has done anything with anyone (this is my version guys, so don't mind the personal touches here) but !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'M ALREADY IMAGINING WHAT HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE, HOW MUCH TALLER HE'D BE IF I WERE STANDING IN FRONT OF EACH OTHER!! I'm subtly -oh so subtly- admiring his large broad shoulders and BACKKK (having some serious thoughts about this part; hint: my long nails, anywayyyy), the way he stands, his thick thighs, the way he lifts a cup to his mouth, his laugh, his smile - yall, I'm planning a whole wedding, even though I know I'm not making a damn move because your girl IS SHY IRL (a moment for the shy girls ✊🏼😔), but a girl can daydream behind the centros de mesa (table centerpieces) my mom and grandma are taking home by the end of the night!!

I keep watching him, subtly, telling myself it's silly but I keep daydreaming anyway. IT'S FREE!!!!!!

He ends up spotting me from across the room while some love song is playing in the background because you know, Latinos and our love songs!! It's probably something like "Háblame de Ti" by Banda MS or some song by Grupo Frontera like "Bebe Dame" 😍 (iykyk) anyway, the music is not helping your delusional girl (me, you, us, everyone).

Imagine imagine imagine - MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AS HE BRINGS THE CUP TO HIS MOUTH WITH A LITTLE SMIRKKK-(why did I just get goosebumps?) YALL YAL YALL

Freezing up and going through all stages of grief because I was caught staring !!!!!!!!!!!! I look away, trying to play it off even though my cheeks are the color of the red flowers adorning the room!!! I'm drinking some water, trying to C H I L L because I can feel his gaze on me.

Thinking it's safe, I look again AND - HE'S STARING

Then for idk how long it's just a lot of ignoring/pretending that's not happening because once again, I'M SHYYYY (once I get to know you I open up but like, it takes a hot week) but I'm just thinking, "este hombre" (this man; also wondering what his name is and why I've never seen this man before???) because I'm literally dying pretending I'm okay and fighting the inappropriate thoughts while sitting next to my grandma because Miguel keeps staring, going along with his conversation with the men (who have noticed him staring and probably tease him about making a move, or telling him to forget it because "esa muchacha/morra no baila con nadie" (that girl doesn't dance with anyone). So he just watches from a distance, trying to gather some info and noticing little things like how I'm avoiding his gaze, the nervous smile, trying to pretend that side of the building doesn't exist-

and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnn

at some point he leaves his side of the room, steps determined. I once again *subtly* notice this and then freak out when he's coming my way but I'm like "no way, right? right?" *hearts racing abnormally*

IMAGINE HIM APPROACHING THE TABLE AND INTRODUCING HIMSELF TO YOUR PARENTS AND GRANDMA, OR WHOEVER ELSE IS THERE?? And then looking at you, giving you a gentle, soft smile WITH SOME MISCHIEF BEHIND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES YOU'VE EVER HAD THE PRIVILIGE LAYING EYES ON AND MAKING YOU FEEL THINGS - or like a commenter said the other day in one of my posts "senti cosas de mujer" (I felt women things)!! YOU'RE FEELING THINGS THINGS !!!

AND HE ASKS YOUR PARENTS IF HE CAN ASK YOU TO DANCE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE HE REALIZES YOU'RE A FAMILY GIRL, AND THAT'S HOW HE'S GOING TO WIN YOUR FAMILY SO HE CAN HAVE YOU BECAUSE MANS HAS ALSO ALREADY PLANNED THE WEDDING RECEPTION'S MENU !!!!!!!!!!!

ok bye, thank you for listening to my unhinged scenario but in all seriousness - God - I've seen what you've done for others !!!!! Send a Miguel O'Hara lookalike my way with sombrero y botas, chest hair, and gold jewelry, and who knows how to fix the light that turned on in my vehicle, which I've been ignoring for months, and who helps with the masa for the tamales para Navidad (helps with the tamales dough for Christmas) because he has large, warm hands 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 31

PREVIOUS

Eventually, his grandma convinced him that he did not have to send a horse head to Ichirou Moriyama with his regrets. “He said if you’re ever looking for work my little Rotisserie, it’s going to be okay.” She had promised.

FF chooses to believe his grandma.

He’s found a lot of his mental stability is built up on just believing what his grandma has told him to soothe him, it helps that she’s usually right.

He takes some deep breathes, shoves down his embarrassment that he was seconds away from crying in front of Andrew, Captain Neil, and Nicky if Nicky hadn’t dragged the other two out. He really needed to thank Nicky.

“I can finish eating the soup Grandma, it’s really good. What was Kevin trying to do to it?” He asks taking the container his grandma brought the soup in and remembering what Nicky had said as he had gotten Captain Neil and Andrew out of the room.

“That boy is very handsome, very smart, and somehow does not have a bit of common sense.” His Grandma says with a fond laugh, “He wanted to put protein powder into your soup to help you heal faster.” She says.

FF had seen Kevin put protein powder in weirder things. What would be so bad about that?

“It was Vanilla flavored Protein powder my little Chicken.” She says reading the question off of his face and in his silence.

“Chicken and waffles exists as a flavor combination” he says not seeing what would have been so bad about it.

“Sweetie, you can’t have anything other than clear liquids right now. The doctor said so.” She says with a sigh.

He nods, that makes sense.

His grandma sighs and looks upwards.

“We need to talk to the Doctors about when you can get out of here. I think being back in a hospital is too hard on you.” She reaches up and brushes back his hair thumb starting at his eyebrow and tracing back to his ear. FF knows it’s not very noticeable otherwise his step brothers would have used the scar to torment him like how they brought up his slightly chipped ear. Still, he keeps his bangs long just so he never has to see the scar in the mirror, knowing his eyes will always search it out.

“It’s hard to sleep when it’s quiet.” He admits.

“I know.” She says. “Are you okay for people to come back in? I’ll take Nicky to act as my translator to go speak with the hospital or I can go with that nice coach of yours since he already knows I speak English.” She offers.

“Can…can you take Coach Wymack?” He asks because he really feels like he needs Nicky if his Gran is going off.

“Of course my little Chicken.” She rises up, takes the empty soup container from his hands, and kisses his forehead before she smoothes his bangs back down. “If you want I can just have Nicky come in and the rest can stay out.” She offers.

“No, just…maybe ask Nicky to come in first?” FF asks, he doesn’t want to be rude. They’re here to see him, it was just a lot and he wants to thank Nicky for giving him the time he needed to calm back down.

“Of course, such a sweet young man. His fiancé is lucky!” She says with a smile.

“Erik is a very lucky guy.” FF agrees managing to return the smile his grandma offered him.

“Ok, I’ll send Nicky in and take your Coach to go see about getting you discharged.” She says leaving out the door.

“Thank you.” He says into the now empty room before leaning against the pillows of his bed and looking around his room again.

His eyes narrow on the flowers Nicky had brought.

Pink Tulips, Yellow Sunflowers all in a Blue vase.

One does not become maintain a close friendship with Nicky Hemmick without hearing extensively about how he feels about newly adopted Pride Flags.

“Why did Nicky get me Pan Pride colors?” He asks if only to fill the silence.

***

Nicky couldn’t help but pace a bit. Somehow waiting for FF to calm down enough that he could take visitors again was a lot worse than waiting for him to wake up from being stabbed. He shouldn’t have let Andrew or Neil start in on his friend, he knows the two of them are scared but Nicky is the only one who can actually understand how scared FF would be.

His sweet little Rotisserie Chicken (He’s claiming it as his own, he’s in love, Aras is a laugh riot) would absolutely be spiraling in anxiety. The others are talking amongst themselves but Nicky isn’t feeling particularly chatty at the moment.

There’s a sound and Nicky’s head snaps up to see Aras coming out of FF’s hospital room. Her face giving away some of her exhaustion but she brightens the moment she sees him. It’s a nice thing, having someone her age being so happy to see him. “He wants to see you. I want to speak with Coach Wymack so he can help me work on getting our Chicken discharged, can you translate for me?” She asks in Polish slowly for his benefit.

Nicky stops.

“He wants to see me?” He asks, “Just me?” He adds wanting to make sure he was understanding her.

She nods, “He will let the others in after, but right now? You’re the only friendly face he wants to see.” She says, “Who could blame him when it’s such a handsome one!”  She reaches up and pats his cheek affectionately.

Nicky can’t help the smile that fills his face.

He almost wants to turn around and be smug about it with everyone. The last two additions to their family were far closer with Andrew and Aaron, but FF was his.

A friend that would pick Nicky over his cousins.

“Of course, I’ll help you talk to Wymack.” He says and offers his elbow to Aras who laughs and calls him a gentleman as the two of them walk over to where the rest of the Monsters and Wymack were waiting.

“Is Smiths ready for company again?” Aaron asks rising to his feet.

“He only wants to see me right now.” Okay yes, Nicky is going to gloat a little. He feels pretty good when both Neil and Andrew’s faces tighten just a smidge. “Coach, Aras wants you to come with her to see about getting Smithy discharged?” He says before a thought occurs to him, “Wait, won’t I need to be there to explain it to Aras?” He asks with a frown.

Wymack coughs.

“We’ll be fine. I’ll get the information and you or Smith can explain it to Aras afterwards if need be.” Wymack waves away Nicky’s concern. “Go sit with the kid.” Wymack says.

Nicky looks at Aras, “Will you be okay without me to translate?” He says not wanting to make the decision without her.

“We’ll make do.” She promises with a smile, “Look after our little Rotisserie Chicken, will you?” She asks.

Nicky nods before looking to Wymack, “At least offer the lady your elbow Wymack! You’re escorting a LADY!” He exclaims and Wymack rolls his eyes but tellingly does offer his elbow for Aras to take.

“A gentleman coach!” Aras laughs.

“I’ll go with them, I want to hear what might need to be done for Smiths.” Kevin says rising up from the plastic chair he’d been sat in. “Aaron do you want to come too?” He asks.

“I think I’ve suffered enough today.” Aaron says and Nicky wonders what the car ride over was like for his cousin to sound that tired.

Kevin tilts his head obviously not understanding what Aaron was talking about but before Aaron could open his mouth and turn it into an argument Nicky intervened, “Kevin, be a gentleman and offer Aras your elbow.” Nicky insists.

Kevin spluttered his cheeks going a little red.

“Coach already is escorting her!” He squawks.

“Do you think one man is enough for a woman of Aras’ caliber?” He asks seriously.

Kevin looks embarrassed but, sure enough, offers his elbow to Aras as well.

She takes it, “Two handsome gentlemen. What a treat. Now this one just needs to keep his mouth closed and he’d be perfect.” She looks up at Kevin with a smile.

Kevin, as he has since Aras arrived, just smiles back at Aras’ warm tone looking very much like a pleased golden retriever.

Nicky turns to head towards the door, “He doesn’t want to see us?” Neil asks and Nicky stops.

Neil looks uncomfortable and Andrew has the line on his forehead that he’s experiencing an emotion he isn’t comfortable with.

Nicky is a man with grace.

“I think he might just want to make sure this isn’t going to be Interrogation 2: Electric Boogaloo. I’ll promise that NO ONE,” he points a finger at each of the younger men, “is going to do that. Right?” He asks.

Aaron nods, Andrew gives off an aura of agreeing, and Neil opens his mouth, “We won’t.” He promises.

Nicky nods, “I’ll come get you guys in just a bit.” He says and heads for FF’s room.

Nicky finds FF sat up in his bed with tear marks under his eyes and feels his heart twist at the sight.

FF looks at him with a baffled look on his face, “You think I’m Pan?” He asks.

Nicky can’t help his laugh.

“I gotta cover my bases!” He says and fully steps into the room.

“I don’t even know if I like anyone like that!” He squawks, a flush rising to his cheeks and this is why Nicky has to control his laughter whenever someone says that FF seems like a chill guy.

“That’s why I was covering ALL of them!” Nicky teases unable to stop the laughter that bubbles up from his voice as he takes a seat next to his friend, “You feeling better? That must have been scary with Ichirou.” He says gently.

FF looks at Nicky, “It was.” He says, “I just…I hope I didn’t upset him in any way and make things hard for Captain Neil.” He looks at Nicky who is already shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about that. He seemed,” Nicky thinks back to Ichirou’s expression as he called FF ‘bright’, “pleased. Did he say anything to you about like a deal with Neil?” He asks.

“Not really, I just…he offered a reward and I told him to give it to Captain Neil. I can’t imagine how he was handling those kind of men being after him. I thought he deserved it more than I do.” FF says expression worried, “You really think it’s okay not to worry?” He asks.

Nicky could just eat him up.

He knows FF’s family aside from his grandma is a complete write off, maybe Erik and him could discuss adoption.

FF’s his anyways.

“Yeah, you did great Smithy. Don’t you worry about a thing other than what Kevin might be trying to sneak into your food.” He pats FF’s cheek.

“Yeah, it’s too early for protein powder is what Gran said.” FF nods as if it being too early in his recovery for the vanilla protein powder in his chicken broth was the singular issue.

Nicky decides to not pursue that further, if for nothing other than his own sanity.

“The others won’t bother you about Ichirou anymore or if they do I’ll stop them. Can they come back in?” Nicky asks.

FF doesn’t hesitate before he nods, “Yeah, sorry I just…thank you for having them step out. It would have been embarrassing for them to see me cry like I did.” He says.

Nicky looks at the obvious signs that FF had cried but doesn’t offer to clean them off fully. He thinks that the sight of it will stop any further inclination to interrogate.

“Of course Smithy. If they start overwhelming you again I’ll kick them right back out.” He promises and he means it, Andrew could threaten and scowl all he wants.

FF is Nicky’s friend and Nicky is going to do right by him.

***

Nicky goes and gets Andrew, Aaron, and Captain Neil from where they were waiting.

“Where’s Kevin?” FF asks looking at the three shorter men.

“He went off with coach and your grandma. He wants to know about your recovery and probably irritate them into releasing you if only so they can get rid of him.” Aaron answers taking a seat next to Nicky. “How was the soup?” He asks.

“It was good, I was pretty hungry.” FF smiles at Aaron. They hadn’t had much conversation and in all honesty FF didn’t really know what their relationship was, if they were friends or just acquaintances but he wanted to believe it said something in favor of them being friends that Aaron was here at all visiting him.

“That’s good.” Aaron offers him a smile that looks weird on a face that is identical to Andrew’s in so many ways even if there are just tiny differences.

He chats with Nicky and Aaron about inane things. Aaron tells him about Kevin’s multiple clashes with the nutritionist, Nicky talks about how Aras baked the pie with the ingredients he’d gotten, and Captain Neil and Andrew remain silent in the chairs they had sat down in. Maybe they don’t want to talk to him other than getting information that Nicky has deemed ‘off the table’. Captain Neil keeps looking at his face, opening his mouth, and then shutting it.

Maybe they just don’t want to be friends anymore after he blew it with talking to Ichirou.

FF comforts himself that at least Nicky is his friend, Aaron seems to be friendly enough with him, Kevin cares enough about him as a player to want to find out about his recovery and that could be counted as a friend. He has a vague sense that he also made a friend along the way to the hospital but that might have just been the blood loss and shock.

Maybe the EMT was just being nice.

His Gran comes back with Coach Wymack and Kevin both of them bringing her in on their elbows for some reason. Kevin looks a little irritated but he smiles at Gran before she takes the seat left open for her at Nicky’s side. Coach Wymack lets him know that after a final check from the doctor he’ll be free to leave.

“Are…are you going back to Palmetto?” Captain Neil asks him as Coach Wymack and Kevin were taking their seats.

FF blinks.

“Yeah, why? Am I off the team?” He asks and is quite proud that his voice doesn’t shake when he asks. This will keep him from playing for the rest of the semester. It might be better for them to-

Captain Neil smiles and he sees Andrew’s shoulders loosen. “Of course you’re still on the team Smith. We’re keeping you.” He says reaching over and squeezing FF’s shoulder once before moving and sitting back and sharing a relieved look with Andrew who merely rolls his eyes.

“I told you he wasn’t going to go back home.” Andrew says in Russian.

“We made him cry.” Captain Neil says in the same language and it takes everything in FF to not go red in mortification. Oh god he thought he had escaped anyone realizing that he had sobbed like a baby to his Gran.

The mortification passes quickly when he realizes why Andrew and Captain Neil had been quiet. They had been worried he’d leave and maybe a part of that was that they’d be losing two players but…

He looks at Andrew’s relaxed body language now and knows that Andrew wouldn’t care about losing a member of the team the way Captain Neil might.

…but maybe it’s that they wanted him to stay.

The thought leaves him feeling the best he has in months.

***

Signing out of the hospital takes a lot of paperwork. There are plans being faxed over to Abby. There are follow-ups being scheduled at the hospital down in Palmetto. There are discussions about who will go get FF’s stuff from his dorm so that his stay at Abby’s can be more comfortable. There is also the fact that his Grandma has asked if she can take up the other guest room to help with his recovery.

It makes him happy and guilty all at the same time.

Eventually he’s in a wheelchair being pushed out by Nicky and loaded into the Maserati with Nicky, his Gran, Neil, and with Andrew at the wheel. He notices how Andrew’s hands are solidly on 10 and 2 and feels better even if he wishes he had asked for that medical coma.

It’s a quick trip to the cousin’s house to grab their stuff and load it into both Wymack and Andrew’s cars and then they’re on their way back to Palmetto.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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SO I’M AT THE MENTION LIMIT. 

Moving forward I’m going to put the people who want a ping in a separate post with a link to the new part. As always if your name is there, it’s spelled right, and you didn’t get a notification then it might be something in your settings.

[sseniita]

your mom

please read!!!

The villain’s first thought took him by surprise. 

Those are her eyes. 

The child must have been one or two years away from high school, and yet her round cheeks and the way she played with the hem of her sleeves could have said otherwise. The villain didn’t recognize where the young girl’s dark brown hair or freckles came from- surely the hero didn’t have freckles? Did she? A surge of panic ran through the villain as the features of the hero’s face became warped and foggy in his mind.

“Absolutely not.” He said. The child pouted in response, flashing him a weak and pathetic mockery of the hero’s puppy eyes. 

That’s her face, you faker. 

“This isn’t fair.” 

“Nothing is fair. Go home.” 

The villain had noticed someone was tailing him recently, he had assumed some amateur journalist or paparazzi (no difference, really) was the culprit before she made herself known by sneaking in with his cleaning crew into his office. Hero’s daughter was kept as a strict secret, as far as he knew only himself and the child’s late grandmother knew about her.  

“You have to help me.”

“And why’s that?” It was getting harder and harder to be civil with the trespassing child. 

“Mom said you’d help me!” 

The villain’s neck was beginning to strain looking down at her. 

“The hero was an optimist. She saw and felt things that were never there. Any sense of camaraderie you think we had didn’t ever exist.” He didn’t mean to sneer, it simply came out that way.  

The child laughed, a sarcastic, exhausted thing. She sounded like her too. 

“You would have never known about me if that were true.” 

“She could never keep a secret. Always jumpy. It took less than lazy observation to know.” 

The villain, in fact, knew from the moment she was born. He was there. The hero had been conveniently taken hostage by the villain for five months right when she started showing and three months after for recovery, he hadn’t seen the child since. The villain wouldn’t ever admit it, but they were eight months of pure bliss. The hero’s pregnancy was pleasant, she handled it very well up until her last month when she needed the villain for every menial task. After abandoning her abusive diet and workout schedule she finally gained some healthy weight (although lost most of it a month into heroism) and began to sleep a much needed eight hours a night. For the first time since they met, she went back to being a shiny and sparkling thing, all smiles and rosy cheeks, pure indulgence and excitement. 

The villain almost caught himself smiling at the memories before his gaze focussed back on the tiny monster in his office.

“Go home.”

“I can’t.” She said, copying his own demanding tone; slight pauses between words, emphasis on the important parts. “I have nowhere to go, the house was taken over by some people wanting to make it some messed up Hero museum. Grandma passed away, no one even knows I exist, and there is no way in hell I’m going back to the orphanage” She rummaged through the duffle at her side, the villain assumed it contained everything she owned. She pulled out a beige card with the hero’s writing in blue ink. 

As the villain read, the child blabbered. 

“You guys were friends, and I don’t believe you killed her like the news says. Mom talked about you all the time! She mentioned that she trusted you over and over again. You have to help me!” 

The villain couldn’t tell who the card was addressed to. It wasn’t signed to anyone and spoke ambiguously about love and trust and other disgusting things, the girl had assumed the card was supposed to be for him. The villain, albeit embarrassingly, wanted to believe that. 

“This isn’t for me.” 

“Of course it was!” 

“She’d never speak like this. Especially to me.” 

“Well I certainly have no use for it. My mom loved me. I don’t need a lousy card to know it. She knew that too. But I don’t think she was brave enough to ever tell you-”

“You shouldn’t speak about things you know nothing about.” This, he hoped, was laced with venom. 

“I dunno Mr. Doom and Gloom, you didn’t have to hear her go on and on about a secret crush she had rooftop fights with.” 

Dear lord, Hero. I don’t know whether to be angry at you for not saying something, or at myself for never noticing. 

He recognized how immature and childish his hope was. The only woman he’d ever loved was dead, and hearing now they had the illusion of a chance from her very own daughter was a worse heartbreak than if she just rejected him outright. 

They always had a weird relationship. A complex, fluttering thing that consisted of fistfights (regardless of powers; the villain considered it intimate, the hero considered it sexy), partnerships of planning and scheming, and being public representations of compliance and deviancy, the good and the dirty, love and hate. 

Somewhere along the line it had become late nights at diners, comfort in close proximity, a head on a shoulder, a hand on the back. The flirting, the teasing, the stares. The all-holy casual hookups.

The villain knew he was screwed when she came to his apartment late at night, drenched by the rain, mascara running down her cheeks. 

Villain, I need your help. I’m pregnant. 

The timing revealed Hero’s fling, it had been months after a fight that led them to ‘strict fighting terms’ it all broke down as fast as hero did in the villain’s arms. 

But she was gone now, buried in a government cemetery surrounded by hundreds of now wilting bouquets and dusty gifts. And yet, the innocent joy of reciprocation flushed through his body. He allowed himself one more denial. Just to be safe. 

“Perhaps it was for your father.” The child laughed at this, more genuine amusement than it was self deprecating, the villain didn’t blame her. He knew from the second he said it how stupid it sounded. 

“Good one. Anyways. Help me kill Supervillain.” 

Dejectedly, the villain plopped down at his desk chair, signalling the young girl to do the same on the chair across the desk. The girl happily obliged. “Here’s what I’m thinking, we disguise ourselves as post office men-”

“Wait wait wait. Be quiet for five seconds.” The villain found himself massaging his temples. “Your mother wanted one thing for you. And that explicitly included staying out of the business. I’ll get you a room with someone I trust. Lie low for now, I’ll send you off to a boarding school or something until you turn eighteen.” 

“What? No! I want to help you bring down the supervillain.” 

“Trust me, I can do that myself. You need to go back to the orphanage.” 

“I hate it there! I have things to do! I need to avenge my mom and that means killing the supervillain myself.” 

The villain was beginning to wonder if the child was a clone rather than a daughter. Perhaps the brown hair was just box dye. She had an edge she’d only seen in his hero, a bright star deep in the colour of her eyes, an unmatched amount of life inside her. The hero had passed away a little over two months ago and her daughter was immediately on the run. She must have known how important it was to stay hidden. When was the last time she had a full sleep? 

“Look, Lily, I get it. But your mother will rise from her grave if she knew I got you hurt.” The villain ignored the shock on the girl’s face at the mention of her name. 

Your mom wouldn’t stop talking about me, well I guess we were on the same boat then. 

"Even better, I think." She joked. Of course only your daughter would joke at a time like this.

“You need time. You need to rest. I can offer you safety. I can promise you that when the time comes to kill Supervillain, it’ll be done as far away from you as possible. Your mother would never forgive you if you ever even touched the handle of a gun. Please, at least give her that.” 

Lily was her mother’s spitting image. Her curls didn’t hold without product, her big brown eyes hid underneath long lashes. Her cheeks would stay round well into adulthood, and they both picked nervously at their nails. But when she finally lifted her head and her eyes met the villain’s eyes, he swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them. 

“Make it slow.” 

The villain smiled. 

“Naturally.”

[withacapitalp]

She’s still here.

It’s been seven days since she showed up. Or, at least, it’s been seven days since Steve noticed her. If she died the night of his party, the way Nancy said she did, then it’s been ten days. 

He can still remember the first one. His grandfather. Steve was six when Grandpa Joe died. A freak heart attack when he was in the middle of brushing his teeth. Steve had been forced to go to a strange room filled with people wearing black who were talking in soft hushed tones and crying. 

His dad said that his Grandpa was in heaven, a far away place he could never come back from. No one listened when Steve attempted to tell them that Grandpa Joe was right there. 

Steve kept trying, explaining that his grandfather wasn’t in that box. He was sitting next to Grandma Annie, brushing his hand through her hair while she sobbed into her hands. He even waved to Steve, and he was speaking, but Steve couldn’t hear him. 

Grandpa Joe had faded at the funeral. One minute he was sitting next to Steve, trying to say something, and the next he was gone. Steve’s dad had been forced to carry him out of the church when his son had started screaming about not being able to hear. 

After that, he stopped telling people when he saw the ghosts. He acted like they didn’t even exist. 

In the end, it didn’t really matter that he could see them. They only ever lasted for a few days after dying anyway. The longest he had ever seen was five. There was no point in interacting when there was only one way things could end. Eventually the spirit burned through whatever energy was still keeping them tethered and they would fade away. 

At least, that’s what he always said to himself. 

But she’s been sitting by his pool for seven days. Maybe ten. And she didn’t show any signs of fading. She just sat there on the diving board all day and all night, staring down at the water and dragging the toe of her sneaker along the surface. 

It was like she was a skipping record, repeating the same five seconds over and over. 

Steve usually tried to ignore them, he had a rule about speaking to the ghosts. They weren’t supposed to be here anymore, and talking to them only delayed the inevitable. 

But if she was staying this long, then she needed something, and Steve felt like he owed it to Nancy to at least try and help. 

So for the first time since his grandfather, Steve approached a spirit and called their name. 

“Barb?” 

[itsgrimeytime]

Home is Where the Heart is (Part Two) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1...

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWS: starting over, swearing, and identity crisis.

[[A/N: pretty is used gender neutrally here, so if you don't like that I'm sorry!!!Thanks for reading !!! For that anon, ly <3, enjoy :))) ]]

You were staring at your computer screen, the empty word document not quite intimidating you but it was definitely... something. The flickering little line that showed where you were typing was starting to get annoying though.

It was a lesson plan, one of the first ones actually, but one you had put off until further notice. Just something about the circulum hadn't sat right with you that day so you pushed it off. And then you pushed it off again, and again, and again-

Needless to say, you were now about two weeks away from your first-ever semester. Solo semester. You'd been a teacher's aide before, but never... never on your own. Just 'a lack of positions where you lived, and you weren't willing to relocate' problem, really. It was exciting and nervewracking and a lot-

Your life couldn't have been upturned at a worse time, honestly. Especially with so little experience on your own, but you told yourself you'd own it. You'd-

Just as you were getting into the groove of your writing process, your laptop flickered off. And then, you noticed the lights were off too. Your power was out.

"Fuck," you groaned out, half tempted to through your head down onto the table.

It wasn't a surprise, really. You knew that the internet wasn't exactly the best out here, and you'd bet that the electricity would be a little spotty too. But just because it made sense, didn't make it any less shitty.

You roamed outside, hoping to possibly get some cell service -to call the electricity company, or maybe your Grandma? Actually, now that you thought of it, you weren't sure that you knew who did the electricity of the house-

"Funny seein' you 'ere," the deep drawl lured you out of your thoughts -southern beyond belief.

You shifted, shading your eyes from the sun but just enough in his direction to see him. He stood tall, the morning looked good on him, his curls freshly washed and shirt unstained. The breeze of the morning tussled him slightly, and despite the warmth, he didn't look bothered by it. Out on the front porch in a set of pajama pants and coffee held gently in his hands -it looked warm, was Rick Grimes.

"Hey," you responded, dumbfounded -your brain had all but flatlined at the man... again.

He looked at you questioning, the slightest raise of an eyebrow -a sort of small smile brushing across the brim of his mug (almost teasing), "You're up early."

"Too early," you groaned, taking a seat on your porch in a delicately colored rocking chair -your Grandma's doing if you had to guess, "-working on some lesson plans I should've done months ago."

"Lesson plans? You the new teacher?"

You laughed, slightly, nervous, "Word spreads fast around here, then?"

"Always," he grinned, "-you'd be lucky to do anythin' out here without commentary."

You smiled, looking out into your yard -the billowing grass and trees were unfamiliar but peaceful. It was nice to just exist for a moment with someone else, even if you hardly knew them, it was nice. Freeing, even.

"What's the lead theory as to why I'm here?"

"Not sure," Rick paused, tilting his head towards you, attentive, "-why you got a good reason?"

"A super mysterious one," you answered back -playfully, "-what do you think I should go with? Spy overseas, or undercover royalty under witness protection?"

He chuckled, lightly, and something in your chest fluttered -the deep timber swimming into your head. He has a nice laugh, you noted somewhere far away in your head. It was just a thought, you'd let your brain get away with it this once.

"You lookin' for better stories or more intrigue?"

"Intrigue," you answered -doing a dramatic gesture with your hands, almost theatrical, "-no one should truly know me."

"Royalty," he responded -unflinchingly, "-ya look the part too."

You gasped, faux-offended, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're pretty," he answered, fluidly -as if the words out of his mouth were nothing but the truth, "-too pretty to be 'ere. Makes more sense."

"Oh," your mouth clicked shut -blush rising on your cheeks (chanting in your head, probably married, probably married, proba-), "-thank you. Good to know what I could get away with."

"Just the truth," he responded, one hand brushing over his beard as his coffee was set down on the top of the fence -a bit precariously.

You laughed, tilting your head back and rocking further from the motion -the buzz in your stomach was a teeny-tiny little thing. It wasn't anything to worry about, you knew better. You knew better than to walk right back into it again, believe and ignore and love-

It wasn't the time.

"Still," you added -smiley and with an accent you couldn't quite name, "-you'll back me up on my backstory? Death threats from my home kingdom ran away for safety."

He grinned -something big and bright, and it made you falter for a moment, "Sure, I'll tell 'em myself if I 'ave to."

You stilled, ever so slightly -eyes heavily focused on the world in front of you, intent like once you looked away it would disappear. Or maybe you would, back in that apartment, back with...

"Everythin' okay?" Rick interrupted, blue eyes intently on you -he must've noticed.

"What? Yeah-" you cleared your throat, blinking away some of the fog in your eyes -hoping he didn't see, "-Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts. I... I really need to get back to my lesson plans actually."

"Well-"

You interrupted, standing to your feet, "How long does a power outage usual last out here?"

He merely furrowed his eyebrows at you, somewhat understanding that something was bothering you but he didn't push, "Just a few minutes at most, maybe an hour if the weather's bad."

"Okay, good," you sighed in relief, before straightening and turning back to him -schooling your face into something more normal, neutral, "-It was nice talking to you, Rick. I'll... I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, a sort of low grumble that seemed almost slurred in the morning, timber that shook your bones, "-and Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever... need anythin'," he started -carefully, blue eyes flickering over you with a concern you hadn't felt in a bit, "-I'm just a door down. Anythin'."

"Okay," you responded, quietly, genuinely, "-I'll be sure to take you up on that, Grimes."

[ruhorih4ra]

Hey! What do you mean it's not monday? ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ heheh I'm sowy but in my defense this part it's longer.

I also noticed that I don't have a clear format (What can I say? I'm a pathetic disaster) (okay I'll fix it later).

This part it's mostly a conversation with grandma, yessss it's angsty. Takes place after part 7

Get out of my way 🌈

“Hello, I'm Lilith!”

The kitchen sank into silence, it felt more like you were being buried in the graveyard rather than sitting beside the warm oven. The four Little D.'s looked at each other, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Ooh, Mc! Why are you so terrified?” “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” your scared and doubtful gaze left Lilith and turned to the Little D.'s “Y-you don't see her?” “Who?” the tiny black shadow showed incredible bewilderment. “Oh, come on! They're just trying to deceive you!! Of course they can see me!”

One thing was certain, she looked like an angel, her hair was so long it nearly touched the floor and her skin seemed smooth as silk. Although her voice was exasperated and there was a grimace on her face, she was beautiful.

“You're losing your mind, Mc.” The Little D. of wrath shook his head, wiping away a nonexistent tear. “Oh, you... You dummies!” Lilith took each cheek of the Little D. face and stretched it to comical limits. “SEE? I'M REAL!!”

“Heheh” “H-help!!” “The fridge is empty!” “Hey! Let him go!” The Little D.'s charged towards Lilith to no avail, she pushed them away with nothing more than a wave of her hand. “Mc, you don't have to be afraid anymore.”

“Mc?”

You had taken advantage of the ruckus to run towards your room as fast as your legs let you. “I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy, I'm sane. My brain is well and...” “Mc!!” You turned your face to see Lilith chasing you followed by four small black clouds. “Why are you running?!” “I may be crazy, I may be insane.”

As soon as you opened the door of your room you closed it again. You remained facing the wooden door, trying to calm your heart and the trembling of your hands. “You know I can walk through walls, right?” You heard Lilith's voice from behind.

“Aaaahhhh!!!” You turned around and for a moment she reminded you of Lucifer, hands on hip and a slight frown on her immaculate face. “You really are Lilith.” “Yes.” she simply replied.

“Hey you! Their soul is ours! You can't take it!!” “That's right! If you want it you'll have to fight!” That being said, the Little D. of wrath took the shape of Satan. His fangs grew to at least twice their normal size and his face contorted into a macabre smile. His eyes grew too long, giving the impression of slits tearing through the skin.

The Little D. of gluttony changed into Beelzebub's form, his eyes morphed to resemble those of a fly. His back hunched and his jaw hung open unbelievably wide, revealing multiple teeth arranged in a circle, as if he had several mouths hidden one after another.

The Little D. of envy took Leviathan's form, snakes came out of his mouth and eyes, while his whole body gained scales, some of them looking as sharp as a sword.

The tiny demon with blue horns changed to impersonate Lucifer, nothing too creepy, though his eyes were red, redder than you’d ever seen them before.

“W-wait!” You fell backwards, a single drop of Beelzebub's saliva met the floor and the wood screeched as it disintegrated. “Now, let's get started.” Lilith rolled her eyes, straightened up, and extended an arm. “Bring it on.”

Two hours later, you were looking at the “fight” with skeptical eyes.

“You were such an ugly kid. When you played in the sandbox the cat kept covering you up!” “Oooohh!!!” “HAHAHA!!” The Little D.s high-fived each other, they had maintained their monstrous appearance but their attitude completely ruined their facade.

“Well! You're so ugly, you've to sneak up on the mirror!” Lilith said while sticking out her tongue. “Hahah nice!” “Not cool.”

“You're so ugly your father wanted to erase you from existence!” “Dude.” “Oooooohhhhh!!!” “Too soon” The gasp of indignation that Lilith blurted out was loud enough to take you out of your meditations. “Hey! Back me up!” “Why? They started this ‘fight’ so you wouldn’t kick their ass in a real one.”

The Little D. of envy tried to put a hand on your mouth but you had already spilled the beans. “Jeez, Mc. You can be a real pain in the aaaaahhhhh” Lilith took them from the hat one by one until she had them all. “If you’ll excuse us, we need a private talk.”

She threw them out the window as far as she could, very surprisingly. “You have the arm of your brother.” “Thank you!” The room was filled with silence, neither Lilith nor you knew how to start and you were too tired to think correctly.

“Mc.” You looked at Lilith, she was struggling to find the right words. “They miss you.” You said in an attempt to avoid awkward silences. “I miss them too.” She replied. “Is that why you are here?” The lilac eyes of Lilith widened in surprise, if you squinted you could see a certain level of offense too. “Of course not! I'm here for you!”

“Ha! You say that but go on, tell me what you want me to do!” Lilith felt caged, your normal kind personality was gone and even if she could see a smile on your face, it was sardonic and fake. “No? You won't ask me to help them this time? That's a relief, last time I did I found a pair of hands around my neck and certainly not in a pleasant way.”

Lilith —who was wearing a simple and loose white dress, more fitting for a spring day than Devildom weather— seemed taken aback by your words. Her pale skin only made the blush more noticeable. “Oh come on grandma, I'm living proof that you're not as innocent as you seem.”

“Okay, first of all, don't call me grandma. Second, I came here for you. I came to help you.” The frown on your face didn't budge. Lilith sighed before speaking again. “Why are you so suspicious?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe I’ve been attacked by little demons that want to eat my soul. Perhaps I'm on the verge of insanity and I'm only imagining the ghost of my ancestor. Who knows?” Before Lilith could reply, you spoke again, louder.

“Maybe I was replaced and betrayed by the people I love and trust the most.” Lilith's gaze followed the single tear that escaped from your eye, with her eyes still glued on it she replied. “They did not replace you.” “Of course not! They just forgot about me and found someone else to do the things we used to do!” You spit harshly.

“I-I know you're mad, but please, don't take it out on me.” Lilith sounded so sad and vulnerable that the regret was instant. “I- Sorry, Lilith.” She took a deep breath and mentally prepared to put her thoughts into words.

“I know they're stupid. But they love you, I know them and I know that-” You laughed, Lilith was relieved to find out that this time it was a genuine laugh, genuine and tired.

“Yes they are stupid. Listen Lilith... with all due respect, you knew the angels. I know the demons.” Lilith knew that she had lost the fight, she was speechless. Although she could have argued, it seemed pointless.

You slid to the floor again, you seemed resigned. When she thought the room would fall silent again, you surprised her.

“I know what you're trying to tell me, okay? I get it. They love me, they-” Lilith sat across from you, she did not comment nothing about how you didn't seem the least bit convinced of what you just said. “However, I will do this on my own. I'll find a way to exterminate this plague of Little D.'s”.

“But Mc!” “I don't need your brothers’ help, I don't need them and I won't go crying for their assistance.” You looked at your hands. “I don't need Lucifer's soft smiles to cheer me up. I don't need Mammon holding my hand through the halls of Rad.”

Lilith moved closer to you until she was within her arm’s reach. “I don't need Leviathan's chest to fall asleep after playing video games all day and I definitely don't need Satan's fingers brushing away my hair when I fall asleep in the library.”

You wiped away your tears before Lilith could try, choking back a sob. “I don't need Asmodeus to chit-chat while I fix the garden. I don't need Beelzebub to tickle me every time I’m sad. I don't need Belphegor to chase away my nightmares.”

“I-I don't need them!!” Lilith could only watch as you sob silently hugging your knees. “I'll get rid of the Little D.'s and then everything can go back to the way it was.”

“Mc, dear. You may not need my brothers but, I'm afraid they need you more than anything you could think of.”

You scoffed once more, looking at Lilith in disbelief. “Listen, I just want to prove to myself that I’m not Tinker Bell and that I won’t die from lack of attention.” You laughed by your own joke and Lilith’s confused face. “Then I’ll be fine, next time they won’t break my heart.”

“Mc...” “No! You don't understand! There are so many humans out there, so many exchange students that could take my place! And I love your brothers, and I love them so much! You can't understand how lost I feel when I think of them brushing me aside!”

Lilith bit her tongue, she wanted to tell you about the two bottles of demonus that Lucifer had emptied trying to resist the urges to kneel and ask your forgiveness. She couldn’t stop thinking about Beelzebub’s soft sobs and how Belphie couldn’t comfort his twin since he was trying to contain his own tears.

She saw Mammon’s swollen eyes and the chaos of Satan’s room. Lilith tried to caress the face of Asmodeus, to brush the frown he usually avoids and now seems permanent. She wanted to tell you about Leviathan’s violent shaking, how his brother had bitten all of his nails out of anxiety.

You thought they were sleeping, but not even Sc had managed to close her eyes. Lilith wanted to assure you that nobody could take your place, but this probably wasn’t the right time. “I understand.” You thanked her with a gentle squeeze. “But please, promise me you will ask for help if this gets too dangerous.”

You got up and took a deep breath. “Don’t worry that won’t be necessary. I’m the one who forged seven pacts, remember?”

Part. 10 ಠ⁠◡⁠ಠ

Thanks for reading!! 🩷

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @dearangels

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

15 and 50 for Rooster!

Hi Nik! Here is Kiss #50 for Rooster x Reader - a kiss out of love. I hope you love it!

I really liked what my brain came up with for Kiss #15 so you're getting it as a full one-shot 😈

A Kiss Out of Love

It's late. It's so late and you're so tired. Every fiber of your being droops in exhaustion as you methodically rinse out a stack of dirty baby bottles. It's as you turn the faucet off and load the bottles into the dishwasher that you realize that one sound, the one ever-present sound that's ricocheted through the house for the past two months has gone blessedly silent. The baby's not crying anymore. After weeks of that squealing wail in your ears, they practically ring with how powerful the silence is.

You've taken your baby girl to the doctor, of course. You've had your pediatrician give her a check-up to make sure everything was okay. Each time, you were told, "She's just a baby. Babies cry." Or, "It's probably just colic. It'll pass. So long as she's eating and pooping and responding to your voices, she's just fine." It drove you to distraction, the baby's unending wails coupled with the intrusive thoughts in your own mind telling you that you were the worst mother in existence.

It was Bradley who noticed you were shutting down. He took his paternity leave the day he noticed your struggles and stepped right in to help. Just having him there helped more than you could ever articulate. Sometimes your baby girl just needed a change in parent and the screeching wails turned into happy gurgles and giggles. There were still many days and nights where she cried and cried the day through, but they were easier with Bradley by your side. He had a sixth sense for whisking her away for a drive; a sixth sense for knowing that the baby needed Grandpa Mav and Grandma Penny time. But most importantly he had a sixth sense for knowing when you'd need some You Time or time with him.

So it's not wholly out of the ordinary that Caroline is asleep, down for her afternoon nap at the perfect time. What is a little odd is that Bradley's asleep with her. Your husband's got Caroline against his chest, his hand covering the entirety of her butt and legs. Both father and daughter sleep in the same way, with their lips ever so slightly parted and their heads tilted in the same way. You carefully gather Caroline up against your chest, kissing her forehead as you lay her down in the crib.

After making sure the baby monitor is set, you kiss Bradley. You pour all of your love into the kiss, smiling when he kisses back, muffling your giggles into his shoulder as he pulls you into his lap.

"What whazzat for?" His voice is still sleep-tinged and you'd have jumped him if you still weren't so sore from giving birth and if you weren't so tired.

"I love you, Bradley." At his questioning hum, you kiss him again. This time, you're too occupied to notice anything but how the world goes sideways as Bradley carries you to bed.

"I love you, beautiful. But it's time for bed. I think our daughter gets jealous when Mommy and Daddy have too much alone time." His words fall on deaf ears. You were fast asleep the minute he laid you in bed with a kiss.

Want to request a Kiss and a pair for me to write? Guidelines are here.

Want to see other Kisses I've written? Here's the full Masterlist.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[thatpunkmaximoff]

[Book Three of Three]

Story: 4 out of 5 Smut: 3 out of 5

Wow. Where the hell do I even begin?

First of all, Callum is definitely my favorite. Though he is very much an Archdemon and is rough and tough with his Lady Witch, he’s also very soft with her… and ugh, he melted my heart. I honestly did not expect him to WANT Everly to peg him tho lmao.

Everly was also my favorite girl because she was so pure and innocent, and corrected her path when she saw the true path Kent was leading them all down. These two are perfect for each other.

The trip to Hell was fun, as was Callum and Everly giving each other their metal (their piercings were the best out of all them), but I was NOT a fan of the final battle with the God. Don’t get me wrong, it was good, but THAT ONE SCENE had me gasping.

You know what you did, Harley. How dare you make me take a breather before I got back into reading. Holy shit.

All in all, I loved it. This book felt different and I’m guessing it’s because of Callum’s demon-y sweetness with Everly that I don’t think Leon and Zane quite possessed with their own females.

This trilogy was amazing and I’m so sad to see it end.

Now here are my rambling thoughts...

* So Everly’s mother took her own life? I call bullshit.

* Oh no. Poor Marcus. I can’t believe Jeremiah killed him like that. What a dick.

* She found her Coven family house!

* Callum’s here! And he’s… crazy? lol.

* He got a little excited and went a little feral 😂 Poor Everly doesn’t know what to think. And now she’s given him Sam’s name since he bruised her, and Callum is pissed. FUCK. SHIT. UP!

* Yessssss. Sam deserved that.

* lol the dead grandma speaks through an old radio. Wtf 😂

* I’m getting puppy vibes from Callum. A murderous puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.

* “I’ll be watching. If your father tries to keep you, I’ll ensure you escape. I’ll bring you home.” // “Home… I don’t know if I’ve ever really had a home.” // “Home is wherever I can keep you safe.”

* “You should wear a bell so you don’t give me a heart attack.” // “A bell? Like the one’s humans put on their cats?” He tipped his head curiously. “Only if you promise to drag me around on a leash. then I’ll gladly wear your collar.”

* Callum crawling just short circuited my brain 😂

* Who the fuck is hunting Callum?

* Fuck. Lucifer sent his right-hand to speak with Callum. If Lucifer interferes, I’m gonna be pissed.

* I’ve never been more glad for Kent to be dead. He fucking put magic dampening cuffs on Everly!? I need Callum to see them and lose his shit again.

* Wow. She pegged a demon 😏

* Fuck. Who cuffed Callum?! 😩

* So that’s how the book got in the box.

* Fuck Kent for making her strip like that.

* Fuck Mrs. Hadleigh too! Stupid cunt trying to hit Everly. Dumb bitch fucked around and found out.

* Run away, Everly! And go find out what the fuck happened to your demon.

* “Everly is not, and has never been, a mere fascination. She is my reason, my logic. She is my one and only God. Think I’m mad if you wish. There is nothing left for me in this existence except for her, and I would sooner rip myself apart than allow you or any other being to stand in her way.”

* I fucking hate Lucifer.

* Aww, Callum. He doesn’t wanna claim her because he’s afraid for when she dies… but she’s dying right now, so…

* “No matter what it takes. No matter what I must sacrifice. No matter who I must kill. For you, I would burn this world and the next.”

* Lmfao. Poor Everly is trying to find a spell to get rid of the wraiths before they notice her, and fucking Callum slaps the wall to get their attention 😂

* Goddamn. Callum and rope play. I dig it.

* She can shapeshift!

* Awww. Callum is so soft. Sometimes.

* Ugh. Juniper attempting to attack Everly still pisses me off lol.

* Callum is making me interested in rope play now 😂

* “I love you more than life itself, more than my own freedom. For you and you alone, I’ve stayed alive, Everly. For you, I would face everything I ever feared. I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes and I swear I’ve loved you in every one of them.”

* Oh shit… she walked into Hell with Callum. What’s going to happen here..

* So Callum is going to get a piercing for Everly… and not the other way around? Wow. I kind of wanted Everly to get a piercing tho lol.

* She pierced his dick 😂 and got a matching clit piercing in return. Such a brave little witch.

* I’m so glad the council put Lucifer in his place. Jealous fuck.

* What the fuck!!!! It killed her?! And she was pregnant!? You’re fucking lying.

* Oh my god. She was pregnant!

* She lived. She fucking lived 😭

[queen-mihai]

I wanna talk about the concept of "the next big thing"

Because I keep getting frustrated that banks and businesses and smooth brain CEOs keep jumping on stupid trends without knowing what they're getting into. And then think they can just sell us on it being "the next big thing"

That's not how it works, idiots. WE decide what's the next big thing. Not you. You have no control here. You're a passenger on this ride. Forever. That's how it is, and that's how it's always gonna be.

So allow me, a consumer, to tell every business on the planet what to look for instead of buying into friggin TurboSlugs or something and making another trillion dollars worth of OUR effort vanish into thin air

Whenever your little money obsessed brain starts to notice a lot of rich people buying something, I want you to ask yourself a single question:

Would this help a 7 year old have a relationship with her grandma?

A 7 year old is hardly able to navigate the internet. She can't drive. She doesn't know how the world works and doesn't know enough yet to be able to make all her own decisions

Her grandma is maybe still in the workforce, or may be retired. Might be sitting at home or might be flying off all over the world. Could be more internet savvy than me, or could not even barely know how to get a search result on Google.

It doesn't matter. You need to put them together or help them be happy together. You need to do that better and easier than everything else that exists on the market.

THAT'S what will be the next big thing.

Skype was huge because a parent could sit their daughter in front of a screen for basically the first time ever and she could talk to her grandma on the other side of the planet face to face.

Cars were chosen over horses because you could get your daughter to your mother faster than with a horse; and didn't have to clean up after it.

The internet is huge because your daughter and your mother can follow each other's life stories and make each other laugh with memes. Your daughter can make grandma proud with what she has been learning and grandma can invest in your company's stock to be able to help pay for a family vacation.

Even something like Tumblr helps because it lets your daughter, as she gets older, have a wonderful place to explore being weird without freaking your mother out. And vice versa.

A stupid nft doesn't help daughter see grandma. It doesn't make their lives better when they're together. It's too hard for daughter to learn and grandma thinks it sounds like a scam.

Ai doesn't help them either. It takes attention away from daughter seeing grandma or makes grandma's search results come back wrong.

You want the next big thing? You're looking in the wrong places. And by the way, if you get the idea to gather a bunch of 7 year olds and grandmas in a room and interrogate them, trying to pick their brains for some damn idea? I am going to beg the universe to send a gorilla to drop from your ceiling and rip your arms off.

You just have to wait

You can't force it to happen. You can't know where or when or how it will be invented. Focus on making whatever product or service you make right now as best as you can. And when you see something that looks like it's going to make the relationship between daughter and grandma better? That's when you invest.

By the way, I know no one has told you this before. So when I inevitably hear you talking about "seeing your grandma" in some commercial or news spot or being parroted by some politician you have in your pocket? I'll know you've been listening to The Queen.

[mystargirl-interlude]

Part one ^

Track Two: mean - Taylor swift . A&w part 2

Pairing. Billy Hargrove x OC

Word count : 1.8k

When I finally got to my class after receiving a school tour by a kid I can't bother to remember the name of I walk in a take a quick scan of the classroom and students and notice the same guy from earlier, the one from earlier with the mullet.

I try to sneak past the teacher when his back is turned,

I notice that the only chair left is one next to mullet guy. As I walk towards him I notice him straighten up out of the corner of my eye. I sit down and pay no attention to him only seeing him look at me out of the corner of my eye.

The teacher turns around and I see him scan the classroom and land on me

"Ah! New student" I hear him say and I begin to internally cringe when hear what he says next

"Have you been to this school before? You seem to look very familiar"

"Sorry no, I just moved here from Russia"

He stares at me a bit longer but im grateful he let it go.

I can feel Mullet guys eyes on me but an thankfully saved by the bell but not from him approaching me in the hallway

"Alexandra right?" He asks me as I back up on the lockers

" yeah, um I'm sorry did we meet?"

"No, no, we crossed paths briefly In the office. Im billy" he says radiating confidence

"cool" I reply pursing my lips not knowing what else to say

"Im just gonna...." I say walking away quickly

"Wait!" He says sprinting to catch up with me

I stop and turn around already fed up with him and it shows on my face

I stay silent wanting to hate him but finding funny how persistent he is

"How about I take you to the movies tonight? What do you say, 7 a'clock?

I'm ashamed to say I actually thought about it until I heard laughing by the lockers and saw who I assumed were Billy's friends laughing looking at us.

Everything I was feeling in that moment 3 seconds ago has faded.

I stare at him and scoff walking away not daring to look back at him but as I turn the corner I can see him slightly and see him with his mouth gaping and his friends no longer laughing.

I assume they are like this because no one has ever rejected him. hard to believe anyone would since he's the best looking thing that has probably come into this town in the vast 4 years

I'm not gonna lie it felt good to humble him but that feeling was in the back of my mind. But he's the man that peaks in high school and never moves on. That's what mean kids are . Someday I'll be living in a big old city and all he's ever gonna be is mean.

After school

me and my grandma decided since we are in America and in a basically all English to speak a mix of English and Russian just to help my grandma get more familiar with the language.

"Sasha, before you came I went into Chicago for a bit and I found this ice rink. It's only one subway from the big city" she says

"Wait, really? I didn't think there was any around here" I replied partially thinking out loud

Tomorrow is a half day since it's a pep rally which I have no interest watching

"Do you mind if I go tomorrow? Just to check it out because tomorrow is a half day and I have nothing to do?" I ask

"Yes. Go ahead."

Her replies are very straight forward since she doesn't know many other words but I don't mind

The next day

There is this small friend group that I have been talking to recently I mean it's technically just two people but I am talking to someone else who isn't in the "group" but their names are Steve and Robin and the one that isn't the group is Nancy.

When I first walk in I'm met with Nancy by the doors waiting for me

"Hey! Sooooo are you excited for your first American pep rally today??" She asks

"Actually first pep rally ever, I didn't even know they existed"

"Omg that makes it even better !!"

"I'm probably not gonna stay for it though, I'm planning to leave early cause I have errands to run later" I reply

"Come on, it's your first pep rally, here I'll make you a deal , if you don't like the first ten minutes of it then you can leave ." She reasons

"Fine" I reply slightly smiling

We had this conversation while walking to our first period which we both have together so when the conversation ends we reach our class and walk in .

Class goes smoothly along with my classes with Robin and Steve. Time passes and comes the pep rally one of the American teen necessity's as so I've been told. We enter the gym and see the stands filled with students and the floor filled with basket ball players and snobby cheerleaders.

We begin walking up the stands looking for a seat, we eventually find a little section with enough room for the three of four of us. Once I sit down my eyes gravitate towards billy and I guess his did too cause we made eye contact and I swear I have never looked away faster.

The pep rally started with the band playing music and the cheerleaders dancing along to it while the basket ball players stand back. I could still feel Billy's eyes on me the entire time. Steve told me that he is in basketball and Robin told me that she was in band so I was slightly confused as to why they weren't in this pep rally but I didn't pay much attention to that thought.

I have surprisingly made it through almost the entire game without leaving so that's a plus.

As I was watching I noticed the billy took the ball from a player on the opposing team and it felt like he was dribbling the ball for forever but eventually he made his way around the player and threw the ball into the net cheering as he made it. We all began clapping as he made the last shot of the game but I quickly stopped as I noticed he looked my way winking and pointing at me almost as if he was saying "this one is for you" as if we were in some cheesy rom com. Yuck. But all the girls around me were blushing and giggling so I assume it was for one of them

"holy fucking shit, did you see that!" Robin screeches in my ear shaking me while Steve and Nancy laugh

I roll my eyes playfully shoving her in a joking matter

"You can convince us that wasn't for you" Nancy says

"Why would it be for me? I've spoken two words to him??"

"Yeah and those words were rejecting him after asking you out" Steve replied

"It's probably nothing" I brush off

But thank god that's when the pep rally ends and the band plays some sort of music as we all exit and most leave for the day but I stayed back despite saying I was going to leave early. I went to the girls locker room with Nancy to chance into my skating clothes which is just athletic sports bra and leggings.

Me and Nancy enter the locker room expecting no one to be in there since we have assumed everyone has left besides the ones that participated in the pep rally.

"Sooo are you exciting to explore more of America today" Nancy says to me while helping me do my hair

"I mean kinda? I guess I'm just more excited to get back on the ice-" as I was saying that I was cut off my shuffling coming from one of the stalls and whisper shouting

Me and Nancy look at each other confused and I bend down to look under the stall to see if I can spot feet and I see a pair of men's sneakers and one of rainbow flip flops and messily painted toenails.

I cover my mouth to prevent my laugh and look up at a confused Nancy and I silently telling tell her  to get down on the floor to see what I seeing.

When she sees them she looks at me and we burst out laughing no longer trying to be quiet. We quickly stand up

"Out of all places to fuck why the girls locker room??" I say purposely loud on our way out to make sure whoever was in there heard me as we make our way to the ice rink

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Billy's pov:

After the pep rally this random girl I've never seen before comes up to me batting her non existent eyelashes. She hands me this crumpled up piece of paper and walks away attempting to sway her hips.

I open the paper and it says "meet me in the girls locker room in ten minutes" I debate wether or not I want to torcher myself more but I couldn't bring myself to care cause she's just one more notch on my belt.

I walk into the locker room looking around and I feel someone dragging me into a stall and she gets down to business very fast..

As we were doing our business I guess I heard two people walk in talking, then I heard the accent that can be recognized anywhere and that pris Nancy wheeler

“So why is your name Alexandra but you go by Sasha?” I hear Nancy ask

“It’s like how some people’s names are William but go by billy, it’s so much shorter than saying al- ex- an- dra.”

“Ohh okay”

And then they continue their conversation but then I remember the position I’m in with- Emma? I think her name was but I couldn’t care but the fact that the girl I’m trying to get just walked in while I’m getting blown messed the the mood and I think Emma noticed cause she started going faster which just pissed me off so I tried pushing her off and she started whisper screaming at me while I started at her and then I heard Sasha and Nancy get quiet for a second which made me think they heard us because of how fucking loud Emma was.

Emma kept rambling and then I heard laughing which shut her up real fast and as I was about to exit the stall I heard Sasha’s voice say “out of all the places to fuck why the girls locker room?” And then their laughter fade out.

Well..

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Y’all this took so much longer than it should’ve. I was supposed to be medicated for adhd but I wasn’t so obviously I couldn’t focus and kept getting distracted but I finished about 900 words in a day which is shocking but anyway I hope you enjoyed it and stream boygenius also this isn’t proof read so sorry for misspells 🤞

[ask-team-misfit]

Linda@Pikavee: The dragoness appears genuinely impressed at the sight of the mon before her. "Never thought I'd see someone other than a legendary this big for a long time." She chuckles with a friendly smile. "You're almost as big as my great grandma was made out to be in the stories I've heard about her." She chuckles a bit as approaches the giant.

"I bet with you being as tall as you are, you probably draw a lot of attention despite how you act. And I can respect not wanting to senselessly hurt people either. But that has me wondering... How do you get by?" She asked with a furrowed brow. Her tone was of genuine curiosity and almost sounding concerned. "Like, do you even know how to fight in the first place? I can't imagine you'd get many chances to get some experience given how intimidating taking you must be for most people."

What Linda was musing about with her drawing attention made Pikavee think back to her mishap in Sciliva. How her simply existing before those humans and Pokemon attracted every manner of interest, disbelief, or disgust.

This train of thought led her to recall the one warning she had ever been given by him.

Stay away from downtown.

Perhaps he was right.

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Pikavee slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. She appears somewhat concerned or timid, and her eyes are downcast. Her ears are drooped down. Pikavee's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Pikavee: "Y-yeah... I know. I am kinda big."

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Lief oriented similarly to the previous image. He looks particularly carefree or playful, winking with his right eye. He's blushing slightly, with the blush shown in color. Lief's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Lief: "Missy, don't sell yourself short! I think only a handful of gods are taller than you like that!"

Pikavee winced from his comment a bit, though she tried to ignore it.

Pikavee: "B-but it isn't all bad, really. I have a wonderful human back home that takes care of me. He makes sure that I get plenty to eat, a-and I get to sleep outside... and I kinda know how moves work thanks to him."

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Pikavee oriented similarly to the previous image. She's smiling somewhat meekly, but appears more casual. Her ears are upright. End ID ]

Pikavee: "And besides, battles are very uncommon in Sciliva. They're kinda looked down upon..."

Lief blinked at her, staring at her funny ever since that first bit of what she explained.

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Lief oriented similarly to the previous image. He looks puzzled, or curious. His left eyebrow is noticeably raised, while his right eyelid is lowered somewhat. At the left is an angular question mark. End ID ]

Lief: "You were definitely sheltered, huh. Also what's with this human thing?"

[elizmanderson]

"a kiss to anger a third party," perhaps from this post? elizmanderson. tumblr. com /711617943947067392

okay so fun fact, I am actually an idiot who read right over “another kissing prompt” on the post this kissing prompt came from and rb it just intending to like save the list of different kisses for later

but then I was too embarrassed to admit that in response to this ask WITHOUT writing something so long story short instead of researching lighthouses today like I was supposed to, I wrote a 1,700-word short story about fake girlfriends who kiss in the hallway outside grandma’s sewing room to piss off some shitty relatives

so. yeah. uh. enjoy I guess.

A KISS TO ANGER A THIRD PARTY STORY THAT I DIDN’T MEAN TO WRITE BUT HERE WE ARE

Fake dating has been going shockingly well, considering you’re terrible at real dating and also at lying, and somehow faking dating is both. Then again, family get-togethers are always awkward as fuck. Your cousin and his wife always share a chilly silence; your uncle has a casually off-color comment for every occasion; your mother judges everyone like doing so is an Olympic sport; and your grandparents desperately try and fail to keep the peace. So no one notices that you and Maeve stand across the room from each other instead of holding hands and melting into each other’s bodies the way two lovey-dovey newlydatings should allegedly do.

Rather, if anyone notices, they figure it’s normal. That’s how relationships are in your family, grandparents aside, and everyone has long since written them off as sweet old weirdos. The only reason you don’t think the lingering gazes you share with Maeve are more action than your relatives have ever had is the existence of multiple generations of biological children.

You share a gaze now. Not because you’re actually into Maeve, although you’re not not into Maeve; you picked an attractive fake girlfriend. Tall, with an undercut and dark eyes and a crooked nose and muscley arms that sometimes you think would be really great for picking you up and throwing you onto a bed, before you remember this is fake and please brain do not.

The corner of Maeve’s mouth turns up. You look away, biting back a smile.

You would like to stand here not-smiling at Maeve all night—or at least until the end of the torturous family cookout, which hasn’t even technically started yet because your uncle decided to “help” Grandpa with the grill and ended up setting all the food on fire instead, and the second attempt at dinner just went on the grill three minutes ago—but you seriously have to pee. In lieu of food, you’ve downed three cans of Coke from the drinks fridge in the garage. You cross the kitchen, accidentally-on-purpose brush against Maeve as you exit, and head down the hall to the half bath.

When you come out, you hear voices. Snatches of words. Your mother and cousin-in-law, sitting in your grandma’s sewing room. They’re supposed to be organizing it for her, but instead they’re sitting on bolts of fabric, gossiping.

“...tried to tell me they’d found someone, but they look absolutely miserable with that girl they brought,” your mother says. With a jolt, you realize she’s talking about you. “Maybe they’ll sit together at dinner, but with how far apart they’ve been standing since they arrived, I doubt it. And that girl has been scowling at everyone.”

“She’s worse than Luc,” your cousin-in-law says smugly. “And god knows he has the worst resting bitch face I ever saw. Sometimes I don’t know why I fell in love with him. No offense.”

“None taken. He’s not my kid.”

You don’t even like Luc, but your fingers curl into fists. As usual, you wonder what the fuck you did in a past life to be born into a family of people who spend all their time hating each other.

“Anyway” —your cousin-in-law examines her nails, fresh from a day at the salon, where she surely treats the staff hellishly— “I don’t think it’ll last. They’ve hardly spoken two words to each other all afternoon.”

Your fists tighten. She’s one to talk. She and Luc have hardly spoken to each other since the day of their wedding; on the rare occasion you do hear them speak, they’re picking fights. She gushes about her perfect marriage to anyone who will listen when her husband isn’t around, but their marriage—your uncle’s marriage, your parents’ marriage, every marriage around you except your grandparents’—is exactly the reason you’ve been so reluctant to date. The reason you asked Maeve to fake being your girlfriend, so your relatives would stop offering to set you up with someone. They all make each other fucking miserable.

And they think you and Maeve won’t last?

Okay yeah sure fine, you and Maeve aren’t a thing in the first place. Not really. You’re neighbors, and coworkers, and maybe friends now.

But since Maeve agreed to fake-date you, you’ve shared more with her about yourself than you have with...anyone, maybe. Definitely more than you’ve shared with anyone in your family. Definitely more than they share with their respective spouses, or each other.

Silly things, mostly. You like it when the front door of a house is painted bright, aqua or magenta or chartreuse. Your favorite flowers are all the yellow ones, like dandelions or forsythia, even though otherwise you’re not that fond of yellow. You always like the sad songs and love ballads more than the fun, fast-paced songs that steal the show. Things that don’t matter, except that they do, because now Maeve points out all the brightly colored doors when you walk back to your apartment building together after a shift.

Your mother and cousin-in-law are still talking. The conversation has moved on now—apparently your uncle has cheated on his wife, again—but you’re angry. Your skin prickles. Your nails bite your palms. You could nudge the door open and confront them, but confrontation has never been your forte.

Instead, you tiptoe to the kitchen and touch Maeve’s back.

She half turns, an eyebrow quirked. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just. I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” Maeve asks, but she’s already following you back down the hall.

“Because my relatives suck and I need you to kiss me.”

You stop far enough from the sewing room that your mother and cousin-in-law probably won’t hear you. You turn toward Maeve, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed. It hasn’t occurred to you that the words I need you to kiss me actually just crossed your lips. Maeve’s dark eyes flicker over you, but she mirrors your posture and waits.

“They’re all in shitty marriages,” you say in a low voice, “except my mom, because she’s in a shitty divorce that was so shitty it was almost as bad as the marriage, except that it was over faster. But because we’re not attached at the hip or making googly eyes at each other, they think my relationship with my new girlfriend is a dead-end that’s going to end before it’s begun.”

Maeve snorts. “Fuck them. I may not make googly eyes at my fake girlfriend, but they’re nuts if they think I wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth and back for my fake girlfriend. Or, like, bring home takeout every night after work, or always do the laundry because they hate doing laundry, or whatever.”

That gets you for a second, because okay yeah sure fine it’s all fake, but Maeve still just kind of said she’d go to the ends of the earth for you. And bring you takeout. And always do laundry, which honestly might as well be a marriage proposal, because someone doing the laundry so you don’t have to is well and truly your love language.

“So.” Maeve’s eyes rove over your face. “Not that I object to kissing you, but how exactly is kissing going to help this situation?”

Right. You asked her to kiss you. Or more accurately stated slightly desperately and angrily that you need her to kiss you. You tense, trying to sound cool and nonchalant when you’re now thinking about kissing Maeve.

“When my mom and cousin-in-law come out of that room,” you say, nodding back toward the sewing room, “I want them to see us kissing. Like, really kissing. You know.”

The corner of Maeve’s mouth lifts again. “Really kissing. Gotcha.”

You flush. “Yeah. That. I just. I want...” You want some really great kissing. Focus. “I want them to see that we’re actually fucking into each other and super affectionate with each other even if we don’t feel like turning it into a performance so everyone else will believe we’re in love.”

Maeve tilts her head. “Even though it’ll literally be a performance so everyone will believe we’re in love?”

Your flush deepens. “Yeah.”

Maeve shifts closer, her eyes flickering over you. God, her eyes. Dark and intense and always just a little bit sad.

“I think I can sell being fucking into you,” she says quietly.

Shit, you think vaguely, poor choice of words on your part, because fucking and you are the only things you can think now that Maeve has repeated them back to you. But the thought slips away, because now Maeve is an inch away, her tall body curving over you, and her hands are cupping your face and oh my god she is actually really for real going to kiss you.

Her lips brush over yours, soft and sweet. Your breath hitches.

The door opens down the hall. As your relatives step out of the sewing room, Maeve crushes your lips under hers. Her hands slip into your hair, your arms wind around her neck, you pull her down, closer, closer, and now you’re kissing her back, your fingers playing in her hair just because they can, your eyes closed, your skin glorying in the warmth of her breath, the press of her body against yours.

Behind you, Luc’s shitty wife makes a sound of disgust and says, “Oh my god, get a room!” Your mother hisses, “Do you want to give your grandmother a heart attack? Right outside her sewing room!”

But (a) your grandma is safely outside by the grill, far away from the sudden make-out session, and (b) your grandma, if she saw you kissing a pretty girl, would almost certainly say something along the lines of “isn’t that sweet!” or “good for them!” And frankly you don’t remember why it was important to kiss Maeve where your mother and cousin-in-law would see it. Or whether there was a point to kissing Maeve at all, unless kissing Maeve was the point.

Your brain is preoccupied with Maeve’s lips on yours, her hands cradling your head, your body crushed beneath hers. But as your relatives slink past and disappear, as the sliding door in the kitchen opens and slams, as Maeve goes on kissing you like her life depends on it, as you fail to say something along the lines of okay we can stop now—as you fail to say, in fact, anything at all—you think, distantly: maybe this dating is less fake than I thought.

[goremet-chef]

vent. mind the tags

grieving with bpd is so... i wont say its worse or anything cuz im really not about that shit, anyone and almost everyone can and has felt this pain before, its a constant of life, but.. when im not actively sobbing and depressed and my mood switches up, it makes me feel so guilty. i should be spending that time in misery, i should be wailing and wiping more snot from my nose and my head should hurt worse like it was a few minutes ago, but yknow. emotional permanence n all that

its so funny, they keep trying to get me to believe in god, she says he'll show himself to me and ill find him my own way. i respect that she at least respects im not there yet (i dont think ill ever be truthfully but we can agree to disagree), but i just keep losing more and more, and any faith i had gets ripped away in an instant. there is no god worth worshipping, because someone worth worshipping would not put me through this pain again and again and again

3 pets dead within a YEAR. riley died june 29, 2022, talcum died in october of 2022, and now artemis, today. may 24. it hasnt even been a full year since riley died. i cant keep doing this man

i find myself less hopelessly despaired and choking on my spit wailing sad like the last two, only because im started to.. lose faith in everything. i feel cynical, it makes me MAD

because i did everything right this time. with riley, i made the mistake of even THINKING that it couldve been cancer, and then it was. i know that wasnt my fault, he had the tumor before i even came to visit and before we took him to the vet, but its still incredibly hard not to blame myself for that. talcum died of stress, because bruce kept jumping on his bird cage. i was so ashamed with myself that my MOM (who doesnt even view our pets as family, more like accessories) noticed talcum wasnt singing like he used to. i didnt even notice until the day after when my sibling was on the phone with every vet he could call to see if they took birds

i was optimistic this time, because it looked hopeful! it seemed like she would be okay, i told myself itll be fine and that we'll fix her up and she'll live longer because she deserves to. obviously that was completely useless because shes dead now, so none of that mattered. i didnt even get to say goodbye to her. i said bye when i left my grandmas house a few days ago, but.. its not the same.

i did everything right this time and obviously it didnt fucking matter because theres no fixing that. theres nothing you can do, death is the worst part of life and it never goes away. never gets easier, you can never outrun it. it makes me so sad that the ones who dont deserve it get it first. i know they were old cats but artemis wasnt THAT old. she probably wouldve lived happily for quite some time after, if everything turned out good. ive known them since i was 7. theyve been in my life forever, and now theyre both gone

god it hurts so much, it never gets easier. i just feel so hopeless right now. i wish i could freeze time, and we could just exist as we are forever. but i cant do that

[yeahyankee]

The Moth of Glen Mailey

Glen Mailey was an old municipality ten miles outside the town proper.

A drowsy place where life took its time, only moving as fast as the river that ran through it. 

Grandmother Shannon lived here with her ancient cat, tucked away on the outskirts of the hamlet. Her front yard was the forest–she liked to say–and the only thing that separated her home from the rambling woods was a short clearing, cut through by the river that carried water into the larger city downstream. 

The older townsfolk who still lived in Glen Mailey had a tradition: Never cross the river into the woods beyond. 

Over the years, the tradition lost its definition, a fading inscription carved on overgrown stone. Just like the kudzu that cascaded over the old, abandoned homes, forgotten cemeteries–anyone who could remember had long forgotten why they felt a chill sense of dread when they looked across the river, to the twisted lace of the forest beyond. 

But living this close to the woods never seemed to bother Gran. Even the other townsfolk–though they seemed disapproving of the forest itself–did not seem to cast the same disapproval on her grandmother. They spoke of her in quietly respectful tones, as if she hung on every blade of grass, like a drop of dew. 

It would be difficult to describe in detail, that Grandma Shannon was an integral part of the order in town, but Orla had always remembered her being treated that way. Whenever she ran into town on an errand, or delivered a letter from her grandmother, they’d stop and stare at her for a moment. Like she was a junebug in the sun, pulling them into some distant memory of a summer long past.

“You Shannon’s granddaughter?” 

It was a question she was used to receiving whenever she pulled into town. It was strange to receive it from someone so young, however. 

Orla blinked at the gas station attendant as she pulled out her crumpled cash to pay. 

He made a looping gesture towards her face from across the counter, “It’s just–you sorta look like her. Your hair, too, it’s curly like hers. Don’t see that around here often.”

“Yeah, I get that sometimes,” she gave him a tired smile and waited for her change. 

He handed it to her and smiled, “You looking after her house while she’s gone?”

Orla nodded, reminding herself that everyone tended to mind everyone’s else’s business in a town this small. She found it heartening that her grandma talked to people when she traveled into town these days. “And the cat–though lord knows the cat takes care of herself,” she stuffed her change away and pocketed her wallet. 

“Ah well, it’ll be good to have someone looking after the place while she’s away.” 

Orla noticed that there was a soft look of relief in his face, and she felt a slight sense of disease when she couldn’t place why. “Of course.”

“Hey, you used to spend summers here, I remember,” he said suddenly as she readied herself to leave.

Orla paused as she slid her sunglasses back on, “Yeah, that’s right.”

“You ever see anything up by the cabin?” He said, eyes going wide. 

“See anything?” Orla said, wondering if she wasn’t getting the joke.

“You know,” he gestured vaguely, “Weird stuff, in the woods.”

Orla felt the hairs on her arm prickle, her fingers giving an unintended squeeze on her grip around her keys. “What do you mean, like animals? Ghosts?” She tried to laugh it off. People were superstitious, and although it had been a century since the last wolves came prowling through the night in frontier towns–the fear of the unknown among the wild trees still existed. 

Something shifted in the boy’s face, as he blinked, then re-adjusted–as if suddenly realizing he’d addressed the wrong audience. “Sorry, forget it, I’ve been listening to too many podcasts.”

She gave him an empathetic laugh, looking around the lifeless store, “It definitely helps pass the time.” 

He nodded, but his nervous look failed to leave his face, “Have a safe night,” he said, more like a blessing than a goodbye.