#ANGST YAPPI

[fuushhh]

so.. with new lovejoy album came new thoughts abt sansnomaly song: Portrait Of A Blank Slate by lovejoy "But I'm just the same, I've got a boring name Across the board of what you want and what you came here for So I'll wait here for you I said, "Please, just let me stay" Oh, just let me stay Oh, just let me"

the "please just let me stay" line is what reminded me about IJAG for some reason it's like we urhgagrgasijdoihja

I know I'm ripping it out of context but JEESUS FUCKING CHRIST US WE WE

"Wake up Monday, now it's over Don't you know no one gets what they came here for? I could paint her, wrapped around her We could make such a pretty picture Oh, so happy, oh, oh, so happy"

"no one gets what they came for" becuz it's not real and he ain't real so we can't get what we want nor can he get what he wants and "oh so happy oh oh so happy" shows how fake this happiness is.

[kinaslie]

hey frens!! I'm MOVING ACCOUNTS !11!11!1!1!1!!!!111!!11!! lmao all my works will be transfered to my main @kinascum , this is going to become my personal account so no worries on that !!

just wanted to let yall know >_<

[skitskatdacat63]

Sebastian and Michael for the ship bingo

Aaaaaaa thankuuuu <33

[ataliagold]

If Love Was Contagious I Might Be Immune To It

For @steddie-week day 2, prompts "hands" and "touch starved".

Title from an unreleased Noah Kahan song.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1916

C/W: Referenced death of a grandparent.

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, Steve is touched-starved, Steve has bad parents, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart

Summary: Steve's early life is mostly devoid of love - until Eddie Munson.

___

He’s eight years old, and his wrist is broken.

It’s the first time he’s broken a bone, but it certainly won’t be the last.

Steve cries silently in the school nurse’s room. His father hated it when he cried, always told him to man up, to grow up, to act like a Harrington.

He tried to keep the tears in, he really did, but his arm is throbbing and his wrist is turning a funny colour and he wishes he’d taken Tommy up on his offer to sit with him and wait for his mom to turn up but he’d wanted to be tough, tough like his dad, and he’d told him he wasn’t a baby and he’d be fine.

So, while he loses the battle against the tears cascading down his cheeks, he stays tight-lipped and quiet.

His mom arrives eventually. Steve sits there, clutching his wrist across his stomach as the nurse explains to Janet Harrington what had happened, that Steve had fallen in P.E, that the bone was definitely broken and he needed to go straight to urgent care.

Janet nods. Turns to Steve, expression tight and unreadable, and gestures quickly for him to follow her out to the car.

Steve quickens his pace behind her, little legs carrying him along behind the click-clack of her heels.

He reaches for her hand with his good one.

Knows he shouldn’t, knows he isn’t supposed to keep trying to touch because he’s a big boy now, he doesn’t need to be held and coddled anymore.

But he’s hurting, and he wants his mom.

She tightens her hand around his almost in surprise, squeezing sharply.

“For goodness’ sake, Steve,” she hisses, dropping his hand again like it’s something bad, “do you want all your friends to see you like this? Act your age.”

Steve snatches his hand back to his side. Blinks through the new flood of tears in his eyes, swallows thickly, keeps his gaze on the hard tiled floor.

He’s eight years old, and his mother doesn’t want to hold his hand.

*****

He’s fourteen years old when his grandma dies.

Smoking with Tommy behind the bike shed at the school, they are quieter than usual.

The funeral is this weekend. Steve’s never been to a funeral before.  His mom ordered him a suit the day after they got the news, the reality of it barely sinking in before he was being stood in front of the mirror in the store while a man wrapped a tape around him, taking his measurements while his mom tapped her foot behind him.

He wonders what will happen when his parents go away, now that he can’t go and stay with grandma. He’ll miss her. He’ll miss her like hell.

No more baking, no more helping her plant flowers in her sunny backyard, no more taking slow walks to the park with her little yappy dog.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters eventually, stomping the butt of his cigarette into the dirt.

“Huh?” Steve asks, not looking up.

“You know. About your grandma.”

“Oh,” Steve waves a hand, cigarette between his fingers. Nonchalant. Unemotional. Harrington. “S’fine, she was just some old lady.”

Tommy sniffs, raises an eyebrow. “It was your grandma, man.”

Steve shrugs, forces a smirk. “Reckon she left me anything in her will?”

He burns as he says it.

He doesn’t want money. Doesn’t want things. He just wants his grandma back.

Tommy snorts out a laugh, shakes his head, punches Steve lightly in the shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

Steve takes a long drag on the cigarette, blows the smoke out towards Tommy’s face. His friend swears and shoulder charges him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and the two of them start to wrestle.

Here, with the stench of tobacco on his breath, grunting as he tightens his grip on Tommy and shoves him roughly aside, Steve thinks this is the closest he’s been to a hug for a long time.

A silent tear tracks down his cheek, and Steve wipes it away before Tommy can see it.

He’s fourteen years old, and his best friend would rather punch him than hug him.

*****

He’s seventeen years old and in love with Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy holds his hand, sometimes. She kisses his cheek, smiles shyly when he wraps an arm around her waist, lets him touch.

But only sometimes.

And that’s ok, Steve thinks. He knows he can be too much, that he asks for too much, that ever since he was a little boy all he wanted was for someone to hold him, and now that he’s older, to hold someone in return.

He had to keep that in check. Had to keep his touches few and light – just a brush of his thumb over Nancy’s hand where he wanted to interlock their fingers, where he wanted to squeeze her tight to his chest and burrow his head into her shoulder and turn himself inside out for her.

He dreams about the creature that came out of the wall, sometimes.

Wakes up sweat-drenched with his pulse galloping, feels across the bed for Nancy’s hand because he keeps sneaking into her bedroom at night to sleep because he can’t handle being on his own right now.

She wakes. Holds his hand briefly, tells him it was just a dream, rolls over, lets his hand go. Faces away from him.

Steve tells himself it’s fine. His heart is still pounding, he’s still trembling slightly, but it’s fine.

He wishes Nancy would hold his hand a little longer. Wishes she’d tuck herself closer to him, press her lips to the back of his head, hold him until he’s able to fall asleep again.

But he’s a man now. He’s a Harrington, and he doesn’t need to be held.

Nancy had nightmares sometimes, too.

She’d cry out in her sleep, and Steve would carefully wrap an arm around her, murmur into her ear, tell her she was safe, that he had her.

When Nancy woke, she’d push him away. Tell him she needed to breathe, that she needed some space.

Steve tried to give her space. Tried other ways to try and help Nancy feel better ��� then came Tina’s party, then came the drink staining Nancy’s top and a cold bathroom and bullshit.

Steve was seventeen years old, and his love was bullshit.

*****

Steve is nineteen years old, and he has the best friend in the entire world.

He and Robin are glued at the hip. She hugs easily, drapes herself across him, nudges him with bony hips and elbows and grabs his hand when the lights at Family Video flicker because she knows that still terrifies him.

Steve’s not used to it.

To having someone reach for him, to pull him into a hug, to voluntarily reach out and touch him like there isn’t something wrong with him.

And so, he never reaches for her first. Always lets her initiate contact, because he never wants to be too much, not like how he was with his mother, with Nancy.

She’s standing next to him at work now. Shuffling through returned tapes, letting out a bored huff, leaning back on her elbows on the counter.

The bell above the Family Video door chimes.

Steve doesn’t look up until Robin pokes him in the ribs, until she waggles her eyebrows at him.

“Look who it is,” she whispers, with zero subtlety.

He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

Because they’ve been playing this game for a while, Robin doing her best to bring the two of them together, to nudge them from this painful will-they won’t-they situation into something more serious.

The truth is, Steve’s head over heels for the other man.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know where to put it, because he doesn’t want to half-ass anything ever again – if he’s going to love Eddie, he wants to do it with everything he has, but everything Steve has always seems to be too much for everyone else.

If he ruins what he and Eddie already have, this easy friendship, it would put a strain on his relationship with the kids too, and everyone had already been through so much, he couldn’t…

“Oh my god, dingus,” Robin groans.

Eddie’s wandered on past the counter after shooting Steve a grin, headed for the sci-fi section tucked away in the corner.

“What?” Steve huffs.

“I can literally see the little cogs turning in there,” Robin flicks her index finger against the side of his head. “For the sake of my sanity, just talk to him. Please.”

“Fine,” Steve harrumphs, tossing a case to one side. “But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”

Robin smiles wide, reaches for his hand, squeezes it gently, encouragingly. “Go get him, Stevie.”

Steve is nineteen years old, and he finally has someone to hold his hand, even if not quite in the way he’d been longing for.

*****

Steve is twenty-two years old, and sometimes he’s so overwhelmed by love for this man that it stops him in his tracks.

He’s draped across Eddie, the two of them on the couch with the TV quietly playing something in the background but Steve doesn’t hear it.

His head is on Eddie’s chest, ear pressed to his heart, listening to the soothing rhythm of his boyfriend’s pulse.

Eddie has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve, one hand tracing gently up and down his bare back, fingers tracing over moles and scars and the ridges of his spine.

Steve breathes him in. Presses his head further into Eddie, like he could burrow into him. Wanted to, sometimes.

Eddie’s chest vibrates gently as he chuckles.

“Y’ok there, Stevie?” he asks, and kisses the top of his head.

“Mmmm,” Steve manages, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest.

It had taken him a long time to realize that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.

In the early days of their relationship, Steve had been…restrained. Muted, afraid to overwhelm the other man, trying to carefully seek out where Eddie’s boundaries were, work out just how long he could hug him for, just how many kisses were too many, when Steve was starting to step over into being too damn much…

Three years later, and he still hadn’t found that boundary.

Eddie took everything Steve had to give him and poured it back tenfold.

He’d smile into Steve’s mouth when he kissed him, run his tongue along the seam of Steve’s lips until he let him in, he’d trace every mole and blemish on his skin with his fingers and then his mouth until Steve was squirming and laughing under him, he’d stroke and hold and squeeze and give and take.

Steve had so much love to give, and Eddie was hungry for it.

They’d been lying here for hours tonight. Skin to skin, Eddie warm and pliant under Steve, humming happily when Steve tightened his hold on him, when Steve’s breath puffed over his collarbone.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks eventually, hand resting in chestnut locks, nails scratching gently over Steve’s scalp.

“Yeah?”

“You ready for bed, sweetheart? You gotta get up early for work.”

Steve sighs, tucks himself back into Eddie’s chest. “Little longer?” he murmurs.

Eddie smiles. Lowers his hand to the back of Steve’s neck, massaging the muscle there, feeling the moment Steve sinks further into him.

“’Course, Stevie. As long as you like.”

Steve is twenty-two years old, and he finally has someone to hold him.

___

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

ji changmin x gn!reader

1.3k words, est. relationship au, hurt/comfort, minor fluff but more angst?, a bit of silliness, mentions of work pressures, neck kisses, intimacy, mentions of playful biting, pretty much not beta'd or proofread (past my bedtime; written in an hour)

a/n: @kimsohn saw some of the goofiness first <3 ily (*breathes in deeply* idk what im doing guys. anyways, this belongs in the category labeled "i get yappy and sappy when im existentially exhausted")

In the dark, the clock on top of the oven screamed “3:22AM” in angry, red light. You stumbled past it, vision blurry and footsteps as quiet as you could make them against the hardwood. Your bones ached to the marrow and you could feel the blood throbbing violently in your skull; you could not sleep.

It had been three hours of tossing and turning before you completely gave up and slipped out into the kitchen. Usually, it wasn't too difficult for you to fall asleep, but alas, there would always be exceptions.

You managed to find the opened bag of tangerines on the kitchen counter, the orange, wiry mesh already torn from the last person who'd grabbed one to snack on. As your eyes grew accustomed to the dark, you dug your nail into its skin and began to peel it open.

Through your daze, you just barely registered the sound of the bedroom door opening—footsteps followed after and came closer; they weren't trying to stay quiet like you were, as there wasn't any reason to anymore. Hands patted you down from your shoulders to your arms until they could settle comfortably around your waist; his body slid flush against your back like a puzzle piece, still warm from being in bed. Hair tickled the underside of your jaw as he nestled his chin into the crook of your shoulder, the ghost of his breath fanning across your skin like a caress, relieved.

“Did I wake you?” You murmured, forcing yourself awake a little as you felt him lean more of his weight against you.

A low hum. “Bed got cold.”

The corners of your mouth tilted upward as you stuck a piece of fruit into your mouth—it was summer; the bed couldn't have been cold. Juice spilled over your tongue in a comfortingly sweet tang, and you went for another. “Sorry, love. Do you want some?” You asked, holding onto a piece of tangerine.

“Mm-mm,” Changmin hummed, shaking his head with a slight movement. You felt his arms give your body a squeeze. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice small.

You shoveled the remainder of the tangerine half into your mouth, hands reaching for another one to keep yourself busy as you chewed, then swallowed. “Tired.”

“Is it the thing?”

Just the thought of the thing—the project you were given charge of at work—made you wish the ground would swallow you up. Your hands stilled on the orange.

The project was the first you were given a manager role for, as they thought it appropriate because you came up with the idea, but it seemed to only be an excuse to overload you with every Herculean task they could think of. You were practically chained to your cubicle desk until day's end, only leaving to go to the bathroom and attend another god forsaken meeting. Where home was supposed to be for rest, you were often slumped over the dining table, stressing yourself silver.

The thought of Monday… no, you couldn't think of Monday. You'd gone so long working on this thing—how could they make you loathe an idea that you proposed?

At your lack of an answer, there came a small breath against your neck. His thumb gently rubbed your side back and forth, the ebb and flow of the tide. “I'm sorry, baby. I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you.”

“It does mean something,” you countered quietly, and moved one of your hands to place it over his that rested over your stomach. “I'm just—I hate it here sometimes.”

The two of you seemed to sigh at once, your chests raising up then deflating in tandem. It made the knots in your shoulders loosen for just a moment, and you could release some of the strain keeping you tight and awake.

“One more,” he coaxed lowly. “In—”

You both slowly pulled air up through your nose to fill the caverns in your chests.

“—Out.”

As all things came and went, so too did this breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips pressing something sweet against your throat.

You were too tired to cry, but you might have just then. Sometimes it was just a project, but other times it was everything to you. It was born from your two hands, your brains, your back, your bones. Plenty of blood, sweat, and tears had seeped into every proposal and presentation, but you could never tell if it was enough. Would it ever be enough?

Changmin's head shifted as you snuck another piece of orange past your lips. “Remember,” he said, “when we were in college, and I let you text girls on my Hinge?”

Your mouth sweetened into a smile at the memory. “It was only because I let you text the guy who'd given me his number.”

“He was so lame—he clearly just wanted you to go see that new Stephen King movie so he could hold your hand.” You could feel him roll his eyes in the dark, though his voice remained syrupy with sleep.

You held back a snort. “That's the point, hon. If I remember correctly, the pick-up lines I used on those girls actually worked.”

“Crazy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. You chewed on the next piece of fruit, swallowing it down before speaking again. “At least one of us has game.”

You felt the light pressure of his teeth against your shoulder, and you let out a surprised laugh. You didn't jerk away though—awfully used to your partner's strange language of affection—but you did push back against his forehead in lighthearted reprimand. “We talked about the biting.”

“Yeah, and you said you liked it.”

It was a good thing you didn't have fruit in your mouth. You warmed the slice of orange in your palm as you let the heat leave your cheeks and your neck. He could undoubtedly feel how flushed you were, and he seemed to preen at it.

“Gotcha,” he said smugly, and the smile on his lips molded against your skin as he left a kiss behind your ear. He nuzzled his nose there, too, fingers dancing along your side.

“I love you,” he said next. These words were quiet again. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You knew he meant the state he found you in—hunched over in the dark, eyes glazed over, and dread thrashing in your ears to fill the silence. The laughter that lit up your face just now had been his doing, his attempt at easing all of that burden.

You laid your head against his. “I love you, too.” You hated feeling this way, but some things had to be done. You had to see this one through, and you would.

“Don't run yourself ragged for this,” he said, as if reading your mind. “Can't let you lose yourself.”

The corners of your eyes prickled, your vision going blurry again. Your chewing slowed and you finished the last of the orange in your hands to clear the way for him to grab your fingers to intertwine them with his. He rocked your bodies slowly, dreamily—he was the gentle swaying of the waves beneath the raft you laid upon—and he was keeping you above water.

“Senior year of high school—” a miniscule break in his own voice, “—when college decisions came out… you didn't speak for so long, didn't eat. It was so quiet, and I—I didn't know how to help you.” Back then, the two of you were only labeled as best friends; you still hadn't decided if what you had back then was what you had now, but it was love in some form of the word and feeling. You supposed in every phase of knowing Ji Changmin, what you felt for him was love. “Can I help you now, please? How can I help you?”

You sucked in a breath and it came out trembling. “I'm just tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Just—that’s all. Just be here with me.”

You could feel his slight nod that turned into a tuck into your shoulder. Your pulse fluttered beneath the brush of his lips, his hands tightening around you. (I'm not going anywhere, not without you.)

In a night quickly dissolving into daylight, he held you and held you and held you.

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @kflixnet @bjnet

[thedeviltohisangel]

List of places Cass and John have been kicked out during the war:

1. The social club

2. A bar in London

3. His own jeep (by Gale who’s sick of them)

4. His own bed (by Meatball)

I am literally obsessed with all of these scenarios. We love these feral officers.

John has 100% let his hand wander a little too high up her dress at the social club. I promise he has gotten away with making her come in the back corner. I also think John is just such a rowdy, yappy drunk and so often they rely on Cass to drag him out at the end of the night. Do we know how excited I am for them to go back to that bar in Greenland for this exact reason? The bartender is horrified that the sweet-natured, beautiful Cassandra Ann Cooper got married to that oaf.

Their time in London...I get tingles just thinking about it. I am like seriously debating if they get married before or after he learns Gale went down and I know if I asked for input and you all have provided it but all the options are just so good and I cannot decide for the life of me! Like before means they can have a night in the pub and be so happy and weightless and shut the place down or get kicked out for conceiving a baby on the table. But after also means it's angst ridden and its John knowing he's going and he's going down and wanting to be tied to her in this life so he is in the next and Cass is embracing these fleeting moments of the future she dreamed of and...I DONT KNOW

I obsess over how done with them Gale is. Like he has watched these two giggle and flirt and teasingly touch all night and he just wants a second of peace. He is relegated to the backseat so John can snuggle with Cass in the front seat and he has watched Cass lick his throat for the last time-

John getting kicked out of his bed is a theme throughout his life. Firstly by Meatball who becomes Cass' personal teddy bear on base. Then by Butter who he is just straight up competing for his wife's attention for (and losing by the way) and then by his kids who all want snuggles with their mom and have no problem leaving him not even a sliver of bed to utilize. Cheese (their cat) will snuggle up on John's chest while he sleeps in one of the kid's rooms.

[certifiedrat]

i don’t think i’ve ever plugged my ao3 on here… if you like really long yappy fics you should totally check me out, zip_code_1

i’ve currently got a behemoth undertaking with my restaurant au but the plot is starting to get good- if you like aus and crack with plot try “Jojo’s Slop House” !

And on the opposite end of the spectrum, if you like hurt/comfort, angst, character studies and missing scenes, try “First Aid” ! It’s a half retelling, half fill-in of Stardust Crusaders that focuses on some of the long term effects I think it would’ve had on Jotaro specifically.

lol it’s kinda embarrassing but i don’t care anymore cringe is dead!

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just a Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Reader is 47 and has adult kids who aren't sure about her new beau.

Chapter 8

Notes: it feels like it's been forever but I'm still alive. The holidays were rough, we were all sick and broke but my family is together and that's what's important. The husband and oldest are both working full time now and it's gonna take some time but life is heading back towards our normal level of broke.

My muse is very slowly waking up and I'm hoping to find the inspiration to get back to work on my other wip's and even have an idea or two for new stories.

I just realized that I've gone over 1000 followers and can only offer my shock and gratitude to y'all.

Hope this is worth the wait.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Y/N was too busy for the next few days to do more than work and sleep. Contract disputes arose in Malaysia which meant 3 nights away from home. It wasn't so bad, Pepper always had the best of everything and wasn't stingy.

She struggled to sleep with the time changes and late night meetings, only wishing she could go home to her own bed and sleep for at least a day straight.

That might not help her dreams. They started sweet before turning sexy and she never had the chance to get any release when they went bad. In one dream she let Bucky tie her up and he quickly went from teasing to torturing. If she was lucky she woke up screaming but sometimes she couldn't wake herself up and was trapped by the Winter Soldier, who then morphed into John, until something woke her up.

The first night home from Malaysia she woke up crying and went down to the kitchen for some tea, only to find Dawn waiting with her mug and the tea kettle whistling.

Dawn spoke softly.

"Come have a cuppa and talk to me Sissy. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages"

Y/N scoffed softly "Don't be so melodramatic I've only been gone for a few days."

Dawn shrugged "It's not the same here when you're gone. Maybe I'll get a dog."

Y/N smirked "Fine, as long as it's not some yappy purse dog. Pits and Shepherds are good."

Dawn's smile grew "You said fine, I'm getting a puppy next Saturday. You want to come to the shelter with me?"

Y/N smiled and nodded "I'm in."

Dawn poured hot water in their mugs "Now that's been settled. What's going on? I heard crying."

Y/N shook her head "Nothing. I'm just severely jet-lagged and can't sleep. My schedule is all fucked up. I'll be alright, just need some sleep. Luckily, Pepper gave me tomorrow off."

Dawn looked at her pointedly "None of that equals crying so tell me."

Y/N shrugged "Weird dreams involving James and John, I don't know how to sort them out. I miss James, was looking forward to seeing him and now I don't know when that will be. I don't miss Johnny but do hope he's alright."

Dawn nodded "Some sleep will help. And a puppy. Definitely need a puppy."

Y/N chuckled "So we can fight over who he sleeps with?"

Dawn smirked "So we'll get two puppies."

Y/N rolled her eyes at her sister and drank her tea before Dawn gave her a hug and she went back to her room to try and get some sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world things weren't going much better. John hadn't stopped complaining since he saw Bucky that first day. Bucky had been getting some amusement over Johns whining but was ready to put him down after the three of them got into it with some small time organized criminals who accused them of dealing on their turf.

Or that's what they thought until Sam realized one of them was enhanced.

Instead of focusing on taking the men down, John spent most of that fight trying to get the shield from Sam who ended up hurt pretty badly over it.

Bucky had enough and was giving John a piece of his mind when John tried to sucker punch him.

Unfortunately for John, he was still adjusting to his enhancement from the serum, while Bucky had been fighting with the serum for decades and caught John's fist with his vibranium hand.

He glared at John but couldn't help smirking when John realized he was caught.

Bucky squeezed John's hand "You gonna stop acting like a bitch or do I have to break your fucking hand?"

John whined "No, you can't you'll lose your pardon. I'll say you started it."

Buckys grin grew as John fell to his knees "You're on thin ice with the govt already, sure you want to take that chance?"

John cried out "Fine! Fine. Shit!!" and clutched his right hand to his chest when Bucky released it.

Bucky offered a hand up which John slapped away, making Bucky laugh out loud before he went to check on Sam. They took a day to let Sam rest and recover.

By the end of the week looking for the power broker, nerves were frayed. Sam was ready to let Bucky have at John and just turn his head.

Friday night found the three men and Sharon drinking mini bar shots in a hotel suite in Croatia.

Sharon was all over Bucky even after he repeatedly and politely asked her to stop.

Sam was practically passed out on one of the chairs, mumbling out comments at the game of Cards Against Humanity they had been playing for 4 hours.

John was a little better off than Sam but likely only because of the serum.

Sharon had been going in and out for at least an hour but her occasional snores made John and Bucky giggle.

Bucky downed 3 tequila shots in quick succession, wishing for even a slight buzz for his efforts, before elbowing John in the ribs.

It didn't occur to him that he was inebriated and spoke in a slurring stage whisper "Hey" he tapped John's shoulder "Hey!" John mumbled then snored so Bucky slapped him across the face, 'gently' with his flesh hand "JOHNNY!!"

John sat up abruptly "What? Goddammit Olivia why are you waking me up. Stupid bitch."

He looked around for a moment before realizing where he was when he saw Bucky staring at him. John scoffed "What the buck do you want Fucky? Keep bugging me and I'll make sure you never get near my sister again."

John looked around some more until he saw Sharon "Sharon!!" When she groaned and rolled over he mumbled again. "Fucking cunt better wake up so we can....."

Bucky listened to his mumbling, trying to figure out what John was doing with Sharon. He couldn't understand why he felt drunk all of a sudden but blacked out before he could figure it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the week flew by and on Sunday Y/N was preparing tacos for dinner with her kids.

Jessie arrived early and helped while discussing work and a guy she met on her lunch break.

Michael showed up late and Y/N could smell the alcohol on his breath. She wasn't pleased with that but knew it would make it easier to get his secrets out of him.

Y/N heard her phone dinging in her bedroom and left Jessie to watch the meat.

When she looked at the text there was no number listed and a bunch of dark pics with a nude couple, obviously mid coitus. She gasped when she saw the glint of gold on Bucky's left arm and her stomach fell when she saw the woman on top of him had long blonde hair that was definitely not hers. Her eyes filled with tears and she quickly shuffled to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and put her phone away to be dealt with later.

Jessie scoffed at her brother "What is wrong with you Mikey?"

Michael smirked at her "Just celebrating, my dear sister. Getting rid of some dead weight." He laughed at his comments and Jessie growled at her brother.

She grabbed his collar "You better not be screwing with mom or Sargent Barnes." She stood on her tiptoes and looked him in the eyes "I will fuck you up if you hurt her, Mikey. I'm not playing."

Michael scoffed "A little heartbreak today will spare her from much worse later on. Now can we eat yet?"

Y/N overheard Michael but couldn't understand half of his words. She shook her head, knowing he was up to something because he almost never drank, and walked up to her kids.

"Michael, can you set the table please. Auntie is out so it's just the three of us."

Michael scoffed "She's gonna end up with AIDS or something, as much as she whores around."

Y/N bristled and tapped him upside his head "MICHAEL DAVID! What the Hell is wrong with you? You will not speak of your aunt like that."

He rolled his eyes "You talk about uncle Johnny like that all the time. What's the difference?"

She sighed "Jessie, can you make some coffee for your brother?" Then turned on her son "The difference is that Dawn helped raise you and has always been there for all of us while Johnny disrespected me and your father every chance he got. Or did you drink so much you forgot about that? I don't know what's going on but you better think real hard about the next thing you say to me."

Michael looked in her eyes and spat "If you cared so much about dad then why are you disrespecting him by fucking a war criminal?"

His head was turned before he realized she had slapped him. His hand flew up to his cheek and he looked at her in shock.

"You know I loved your father and more importantly he knew but he has been gone for over 5 years. Do you expect me to live alone for the rest of my life? I'm almost 50, not almost dead and I deserve to be loved, dammit."

She paused to take a sip of her wine "And James is a good man who was forced into fucked up circumstances. The government has pardoned him and you don't need to make his life any more difficult than it already is." She shook her head "I don't know how you ended up such a selfish and judgemental prick but your father would be ashamed. Now help your sister bring the food in."

Michael just stared at his mother before walking away muttering "That assholes life will be real simple when he's locked up on the Raft."

He pulled his phone out and didn't realize Jessie was listening until he ran into her "What have you done, Michael? I can't believe you would sabotage Moms happiness."

He scoffed "She'll get over it. Be easy for a slut like her to find another guy."

Jessie punched him in the stomach and took his phone away when he doubled over. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the messages from their uncle and she shoved Michael to the floor before hurrying to the dining room

"MOM!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early morning that same day, Bucky woke up feeling hungover, in a strange bed. It took a few minutes for him to sit up and remember where he was. He held his head and groaned, jumping when he heard a moan right next to him. He looked over and practically fell out of bed trying to get away from his bed mate. When he hit the floor he realized that he was naked. Grabbing the blanket he stood up awkwardly trying to cover his nudity. As he pulled on it he saw it sliding off of the person in his bed, who he definitely didn't want to uncover.

She groaned "Jimmy, baby what's wrong?"

Bucky shook his head "Sharon? What the fuck are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone."

Sharon giggled "Yeah you started that way but as the night went on you got much friendlier. Come back and I'll show you." She invited as she uncovered herself.

Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head "Nononono, Sharon you need to go. I don't want this, I don't want you. This didn't happen."

Sharon pouted "It definitely happened. Wanna see the pictures?"

"What? Pictures? What did you do to me Sharon? I remember drinking, playing some crazy card game and waking up just now." Bucky felt his heart speeding up and felt light headed "No, this didn't happen. You and John did something to me. You drugged me."

Sharon smiled wickedly "Aawww, how could little ol me do anything to a big bad super soldier? I think you wanted me and took what you wanted. Nothing wrong with that." She shrugged. "I definitely enjoyed it and the evidence says you did too."

Bucky could feel a panic attack coming on and felt his knees buckle before he dropped to the floor, his head fell into his hands "No. This can't be real. Please God don't let this be real."

Chapter 9

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick

[practically-an-x-man]

Echoes and Mementos (Spider's introduction)

Summary: An introductory ficlet, post-Death Angels, about Spider and his life in a world without sound

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: introduction, gen fic, non-romantic, OC focused, light angst

____

Spider missed his tapes.

Granted, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with them if he had them. He couldn't play them anymore, not in this too-silent world filled with beasts that hunted by sound. It was too much of a risk.

But just seeing them, all lined up and organized in their boxes, having the collection in front of him, would be comforting to him. It was something normal, at least to him, and there was a shortage of normal in this new world.

He imagined looking them over, running his fingers along their smooth plastic cases, pulling one out just to peer at it. Or opening up his laptop - most tapes had multiple sounds recorded, and most a very random assortment, which made it impossible to truly organize everything perfectly with an analog system - and pulling up the spreadsheet he'd finally gotten finished days before he flew to New York, searching for a particular sound by label and finding it amidst the crates.

DoorSlamClick 4 - box C, row three, number seventeen or eighteen down the row. That was one of his favorites. He'd taped it while staying in an Airbnb for a film trip, and it was one of the most intensely satisfying sounds he'd ever had the pleasure of memorializing on film. It was a heavy oak door with an old-fashioned lock, and there was something about the solid fshh-thud-click that he thought would be perfect for an animated period-Medieval piece someday.

DogWhineTrill - box 2F, row one, the very first in line. He'd encountered that one while walking past a line of houses in residential Los Angeles - some small yappy dog straining against the chain-link fence that surrounded its house, making a strange warbling sound that seemed like it couldn't decide whether to be a growl or a whine. Spider wasn't sure what he'd end up using that one for, but it was a sound he didn't think he could replicate. And that was the point of his collection. The tapes were only pointless until someone needed a sound they couldn't produce in a studio.

StunGunSlowed - box 2B, row five, and the fifth one in line. The symmetry of that one made it easy to remember. Spider had gotten his hands on a stun gun in the studio one day, and had digitally slowed the sound until each individual click could be heard - intended for the echolocation of a massive, monstrous bat in a B-list Dracula spinoff he'd worked on. It was digitally saved on his computer, but he'd recorded the sound on tape too, just to be safe. And he swore up and down, that one would be downright perfect as monster-bait in this new world. If only it weren't on the other side of the country.

BrokenFaucetHiss - unboxed and uncategorized, a brand new sound still waiting to enter the collection. He'd found it the night before he left for New York: his kitchen faucet had gone faulty and spat water whenever he turned it on, accompanied by a fascinating staggered tch-ssss-TCH-ssssh. The pitch changed when he cranked the handle to different positions. He'd played around with it for a while, finally recorded something he was happy with, then vowed himself two things: that he'd one day use the sound for a snakelike alien language in a sci-fi piece, and that he'd get the faucet fixed the instant he got home from New York.

Neither of those really ended up coming true, in the end.

And now he was two and a half thousand miles away, his beloved tapes gathering dust in their mouldering cardboard boxes, and that broken faucet no longer mattered. The BrokenFaucetHiss tape still sat on his cluttered desktop, waiting endlessly to be placed with its brethren.

The thought saddened him more than he expected. Spider tried not to anthropomorphize his tapes, he knew they were just inanimate objects at the core of it all, but... each sound just had such personality, and it was hard just to see them as things when they were so close to his heart.

He wanted to return to his collection. If only to see it again. If only for that closure.

The world is different now, he thought, I can't play you anymore. I have to say goodbye. But thanks for all you've done for me.

It sounded a little saccharine, even in his own head. The tapes hadn't really given him his career- he wouldn't even have the tapes if it weren't for his fascination with sound, and that was what gave him his success. But they'd played a role in it, without question.

He couldn't count the number of times a director, or sometimes even another foley artist, had approached him utterly stumped for a sound. And each time, he'd done a little searching, pulled options from his records, and there was almost always something that worked out. And then that director spread the word, and he landed more jobs, and the collection grew, and the cycle repeated all over again.

Spider knew his collection made him distinct. Maybe distinct erred on the side of eccentric at times, or even downright weird at others, but the film world thrived on people who could bring something utterly unique to the table. Rick Baker had his Change-O-Heads. Matthew Mungle had his gelatin. Irmin Roberts had his dolly zoom.

And Souriya Prakash-Cooper had his tapes. A vast collection of sounds spanning everything from AppleCrunchBite to ZooTrolleyDing, and thousands more in between.

He owed his livelihood to his collection. Perhaps it had gotten out-of-hand after a while, boxes and boxes of random scraps of sound cluttering his apartment, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of a single one. And he never taped over them - not unless he absolutely had to, and even then he tried to stick to sounds he stood a chance at recreating later.

Only about one in every hundred tapes ever ended up used, and even that was generous. But he could never guess which ones he might need in the future, and so he couldn't bring himself to get rid of a single one. According to his spreadsheet, the total tapes amounted nearly sixteen thousand, and he couldn't even count the amount of individual sounds that contained. He'd been building his collection for over fifteen years, and never went anywhere without his tape recorder. He thought eventually he'd have his own studio, his very own library of sound - millions of them.

And now... he had four. Four precious sound-filled tapes still tucked into his pockets, six more blank ones ready to record. He was saving those. He wasn't sure where he'd get more, now that the entire world had crumbled around him.

He had three full boxes of blank tapes back home. He bought them in bulk. He never knew when they might be discontinued, and he always used the same model of handheld tape recorder - what good was his collection if he couldn't access all the tapes? Backwards-compatability was a must.

But he didn't have those tapes. He had six blank ones and four that he'd already filled.

Needing to feel them in his hands, their blocky plastic, their comforting size, Spider dug them out of the deep pockets of his windbreaker.

Six blank ones. One, two, three, four, five, six, back into his pockets for later. He didn't want to damage them, especially when they were so beautifully new and fresh.

MonsterBait - that one wasn't technically in his hands. It was still in his tape recorder, rewound and ready to play at a moment's notice. Unlike many of his other tapes, it only contained a single sound: a full side, 15 minutes, of various snippets of the clicking sounds he'd recorded from the creatures. Collecting those sounds was the most terrifying thing he'd ever experienced, but it had paid its dues a dozen times over. The B-side was still in progress, intended as a collection of all the creatures' other, non-click noises. Most of those were rather gruesome.

BullSnort1-8/DoorCreak3/FootstepsGravelCrunch/CarDirtRoad/... - he'd grabbed that one largely at random, and it turned out to be a session from when a friend had dragged him out to his aunt's farm for a weekend. He was intending to use it as a demonstration of his collection when he got to the crew meeting. And then... that crew meeting had never happened, and the tape sat useless in his pocket.

ElevatorDing/IntercomSquawk/TrollyRumble/CrowdBabble12/... - he'd been working on that one on the way to New York: the airport, the flight, even the taxi back to the hotel. It was, he realized, the last sounds he had before the silent apocalypse. They were utterly mundane, commonplace sounds, just the average cacophony of the urban crowd - even then, he doubted he'd ever end up using them, they were such easy sounds to replicate - but now it felt like the last little bubble of humanity left in the world.

He still had room on that tape, but couldn't bear to fill it. He couldn't mix pre-apocalypse and post-apocalypse. That would... tarnish something about the past. He wanted to keep it intact, at least in his own mind.

Mixing the past and the present generated too many unsavory thoughts. It reminded Spider that he still didn't know what happened to his parents, his sisters, his friends and extended family and everyone else he cared about. As long as he kept those two worlds separate, he could convince himself they were still at home, silent and safe, rather than tormenting himself with gruesome realities.

That tape was filled with the voices of the dead. He knew that airport was now silent, for one reason or another, only broken by the heavy, crunching steps of the beasts that now infested the world. But he couldn't bear to tape over it.

And then there was one more.

The Best Sound in the World.

He'd struggled with the title for a while. StormPoemRead would be more accurate, or RainVoiceEric or any number of other descriptions, and it would fit with how he'd categorized every other sound in his collection. Even with his collection now obsolete and gathering dust, the consistency would be a comfort.

But it felt too clinical. There were so few sounds in the world anymore. He couldn't stand to lump this one in with the rest. It was special. A snippet of speech in a near-speechless world.

Perhaps someday the world would recover. He wanted to believe, if he held out long enough, the beasts would starve or be eradicated and the world would gradually resume its normalcy, though that seemed like an impossible concept when looked at the wreckage of the city around him. Even if the world at large recovered, there would be no more New York City. Hell, he was sure his career would be toast - when it came to repairing all the damages, entertainment would certainly be one of the last steps.

But it would be worth it, if it meant he could once again live in a world with speech and music and simple little noises again. It was exhausting to be hypervigilant of his every move, to fear making any sound.

He hoped he would live long enough to reach that world again.

But until then, he missed his tapes.

[gamerwoo]

hansol/mingyu: the lovers playlist

characters: mingyu x female reader (mentions of hansol x female reader)

genre/warnings: idol au, friends to ????, one-sided pining, a smidge of angst but mostly fluff, mingyu is so stupidly in love it’s insane, a lot of time skips with no mention of how much time has skipped lmao i’m so sorry

word count: 3,248

summary: so i’ll just tell my telephone all of the above when i’m alone

a/n: things in bold italics are song lyrics

previous song | next song | back to playlist

“Do you ever hear a song that you forgot existed and you just know it’ll be on repeat for the next two weeks?”

Mingyu gave you a strange look, sitting across from you at a table at some burger joint the two of you pulled into. Actually, it was your idea. You reached out to him, and he was kind of shocked.

i’m keeping the promise 😋, was what your text read when you asked him to grab lunch.

Honestly, he wasn’t confused by your question -- he saw the way you sat up straighter when the beat kicked in, like you were trying to get closer to the speakers in the ceiling to listen to the music -- but more so confused by why you would listen to only one song for so long.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about,” you realized with a laugh as you saw his eyebrows knit together, looking like a confused puppy.

“I’m trying to,” he promised with a chuckle.

Despite not getting your need to play one song over and over again even after you tried to explain, like the lovesick simp he was, he found that exact song and played it on repeat for you whenever he saw you.

-

I’d like to know your middle name; Let’s talk about your parents and your future dreams.

“You did this on purpose.”

Your playful glare was on Mingyu, who merely grinned proudly and announced, “Yup!”

“You said you didn’t get it,” you reminded him.

He shrugged, “That’s okay. I don’t need to get it to listen to it.”

“You’re gonna keep it on replay?” you scoffed.

“Why not?”

As if he didn’t listen to it alone at home until he knew what the lyrics were.

“So, _____,” he continued as he stretched out comfortably on your bed, arms going behind his head as he laid back on the headboard, “why don’t you tell me about your middle name and your parents?”

You gave him a look that was something along the lines of an annoyed ‘are you serious?’ or a ‘shut the fuck up’ with a small eye roll, but you shifted at the other end of your bed and replied nonetheless.

“When did you become an English major?”

“If I’m gonna listen to this song a billion times with you, I may as well know what it’s about,” he stated in a ‘duh’ tone.

Very good save, he told himself, It’s not because I’m in love with you or anything.

After another, more dramatic eye roll, you replied, “You don’t need to know my full name, and my parents are a teacher and a vet tech who live in some tiny town and own a tiny yappy dog to replace me while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, you’re basically the same thing,” he deadpanned.

You grabbed your stuffed bear that had ended up on the floor when you and Mingyu climbed onto the bed, and threw it at him. He let out a loud laugh as he held up his hands so he didn’t have to take it to the face.

“Do I at least get to know the dog’s name?” he asked, still laughing.

“Molly.”

“So you’ll tell me your dog’s name but not your middle name?” he sighed, feigning sadness.

“You don’t actually care,” you scoffed, “you’re just trying to be a smartass.”

“I do care!” he insisted, looking straight at you so you would know he wasn’t joking or lying.

You didn’t know that Mingyu actually did want to know everything about you.

After a few seconds of just studying him, you sighed and relented.

Mingyu’s smile slowly grew when you told him, testing your first and middle names on his tongue. He liked how it flowed. He liked saying it. There was something kind of intimate to him knowing your second name.

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled. “Are you not gonna ask me about my future dreams?”

“Your dream wasn’t to become an idol?” he asked, cocking his head slightly to one side.

“Originally it was to be a cowboy,” you explained, earning a belly laugh from him. “But I still have other dreams. Do you not have, like, dreams for your future? Getting married and having a family and stuff?”

“Ohhhh,” he nodded, finally understanding what you meant. “Yeah, I think about that stuff. I’ll get married and maybe have a few kids.”

“Would you travel or are you sick of it now?”

“I’d want them to experience the world, too, I think,” he mused. “There’s too many beautiful places and things to experience, and I want to provide them the opportunity to do all that.”

“I still haven’t been a lot of places,” you said. You realized that Mingyu had kind of been everywhere and you hadn’t really been many places compared to him. “I still have to discover all that, which is kind of exciting.”

‘I’m interested but distant to a fault, and I’d never want to complicate your heart.’

His immediate thought was to show you those places. Replace the faceless wife in his head with you, bringing you and your two kids to all the amazing places he’s seen thus far in his career. 

Relax, he reminded himself with a deep breath that you didn’t catch as you rambled about how traveling was scary but exciting.

This was only the fourth time you’d hung out together since that night after the ball, and the third time since the wound re-opened when Hansol and Ivory went public. Of course you wouldn’t be ready for any sort of romantic thing. And yet, here Mingyu was, becoming delusional for absolutely no reason.

He should be thankful you even reached out. At least, that’s what he told himself. He knew how you felt about wanting absolutely nothing to do with Hansol or what happened, so it was a miracle you invited him over, especially after already asking him out for burgers to “keep the promise.”

"Gyu?” you saying his name brought him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

“Um...” he hesitated, wondering if he should even say anything, but now he was feeling guilty. “Can I actually ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You’re not...forcing yourself to hang out with me because of our conversation on the car, right?” he wondered slowly and quietly. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If you really don’t want to be friends, I can handle it.”

It would hurt, but he would stay away if you really wanted. He’d get over it eventually.

...Probably.

You let out a sigh and looked down at your lap, picking at your nails, “It’s... Okay, so, yeah, it kind of sucks because of, like...everything. But I also do have fun with you, so... I dunno, I guess I just have to get over the Hansol thing eventually.”

“But I don’t wanna rush you or force you or--”

“Mingyu?”

He stopped talking, just watching you with his mouth half-open. The look you gave him was one that told him you didn’t want to talk about the matter anymore.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” you promised. “Can we drop it?”

-

I talk a lot but we could fill your frames with pictures of our faces 'til we share a name.

“I’m begging you to shut that song off,” Soonyoung whined.

“And to shut the fuck up for a second,” Minghao sighed in annoyance, kneeling a few feet away from where you, Mingyu, and Soonyoung were leaning back against the pier railing while he snapped some photos. “Your mouth is open is literally all of these. You don’t need to hear your own voice all the time.”

You learned quickly that Mingyu was constantly talking. Currently, he was on a rant about which place on the pier was the best place to get pizza, and that stemmed from a story about going to the beach with Seokmin, which stemmed from wind blowing sand into Minghao’s face. He really knew how to get sidetracked over and over and over.

“If he closes it, he’ll die,” you told him.

Mingyu frowned and glared at you, “I’m not a mouthbreather.”

“And I’m not your journal but you talk like I am,” you shot back with a shit-eating grin.

Mingyu mimicked you with a sneer so you did it back.

Honestly, Mingyu was nervous inviting you out with some of the other members. He kept reminding you that you could say no, but you figured you’d been fine with Mingyu thus far so what was the worst that could happen? He knew better than to invite Hansol, and you figured his friends were smart enough to not bring him or what happened up.

Well, except maybe Soonyoung, but he was doing good so far.

“Okay, I’m over this,” Soonyoung reached around you to Mingyu, ripping away the small bluetooth speaker that was clipped to his jeans and powering it off. “Five times is enough for one song.”

To be fair, you were the one who was playing it this time.

“Can you guys please look less like you hate each other?” Minghao asked.

“We’re fine,” you shrugged, gesturing between you and Mingyu. Then you shot your thumb toward Soonyoung to your left. “It’s this one who’s being a party pooper.”

“Then leave, Soonyoung.”

Both you and Mingyu burst into laughter, causing Minghao to smile at his own statement. Soonyoung looked appalled as he slowly started stepping out of the frame, looking at the younger boy with a mix of confusion, offense, and anger.

“Are you kidding me?” he demanded. 

Before he got up to run away, he snapped a photo of you and Mingyu laughing together.

You didn’t get to see the photos until later when Mingyu was dropping you off. Minghao texted them to you and in the middle of yet another Mingyu tangent, you cut him off to coo at the photos.

It was perfect timing because he just pulled up outside your building, so he leaned over to look.

All of them were kind of a mess. Mingyu’s mouth was open in most of them, or Soonyoung was blinking, or your hair was blown in your own face or one of theirs -- actually, there was a photo where it was both.

It wasn’t until you scrolled to the last one that you let out a laugh from how cute it was. You and Mingyu stood beside each other, you half-bent over and Mingyu holding the railing behind you to stay up as you both laughed toward the camera but not directly at it.

“Shut the fuck up,” you squealed as you immediately went to make it your new lockscreen.

And for once, as Mingyu watched you change a photo of the two of you to your lockscreen, he was at a loss for words, his heart thumping in his chest the only sound that came from him.

“Honestly, I was getting kinda tired looking at my group,” you said absentmindedly as you looked at your new lockscreen. “It was us for a loooong time.”

“What was it before?” he wondered in a murmur.

You looked over at him with a ‘you know who’ look.

“Oh...”

“Yeah...” you sighed.

“Do you think you’re still in love with him?”

Mingyu blurted the question. In classic Mingyu fashion, he just spoke without a filter. He never stopped speaking. You didn’t really expect anything less.

“Wait, that was--”

“No, it’s fine,” you interrupted. “I think...yeah.”

“Yeah...” he mumbled, his mouth going to one side of his face. “I mean, love takes a while to get over.”

You looked over at him, “Have you ever been in love?”

He gulped but hoped you didn’t notice.

“Yeah.”

“You’re single, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How long did it take you to get over it, then?” you wondered, hoping for some advice.

“Honestly? Um...” Mingyu took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t too suspicious. “Honestly, I’m not. I’m just...trying.”

“To be with her?”

“Sort of. I just want to be her friend right now.”

You nodded slowly, “So you’re not friends now?”

“We kind of are. I think.”

You laughed softly and shook your head, “Okay, well, let me know how that goes.”

“Yeah, I will.”

-

I’m living on a target and you shot it with an arrow; Now I lost my self-control, I can’t stop thinking and I’m thinking that I’ve lost it.

Mingyu watched you move around your bedroom as you mumbled the words to yourself mindlessly. You were supposed to be putting away the few pieces of laundry scattered across your floor that you were too lazy to put away, but you were clearly getting distracted.

To be fair, it was his fault. He randomly asked if you wanted to hang out since he finished his schedules early, and you still had a couple hours before your own so you didn’t plan on cleaning until you got home.

Instead of planning accordingly and spending time to get ready, you decided to hang out with Mingyu. But that was okay because Mingyu was supposed to be getting an early night’s sleep since he had to wake up early for recording the next morning.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked suddenly.

You paused what you were doing, looking at him to silently let him know he could ask whatever he wanted.

“Why didn’t you just say no if you were busy?” he chuckled even though he was getting butterflies just knowing you let him come over when you had things to do. It made him feel important; like you wanted to see him that badly.

You shrugged and countered with, “Why didn’t you go home to sleep?”

“I will always readily admit I have back self-control issues,” he stated.

“And who said I don’t?” you scoffed.

The butterflies only got worse. You couldn’t say no to him?

Was he getting delusional again? Absolutely.

Was there any coming back from it? Probably not, but at least he was self-aware.

All these aisles feel like miles; Where you go, I'll follow.

Finally, you grabbed your Switch controllers and went over to your bed, sitting beside him against the headboard and handing him one. 

“So why do you have nighttime schedules?” he asked as you started up Mario Kart.

“Soey insists we sound better at night, so we’re recording at night instead,” you explained. “Since she’s the one with the music degree, we all just kind of listen to whatever she says, I guess.”

“Won’t she ream you for not, like, warming up and stuff?” he chuckled, recalling you talk about how Soey could be when it came to music.

“I can drink tea and play Mario Kart at the same time,” you decided as you got back up from the bed. “I could probably also get Taehyung to distract her or something. You want anything?”

“I’ll just come with you,” he said as he put down the controller and climb out of bed with you.

Mingyu shuffled behind you like a puppy as you led him to the kitchen. Along the way, a few of your members that were hanging around the dorm were greeting him like normal. It had become common for you and Mingyu to hang out, and while it took some warming up for some of the girls, they liked having Mingyu around. Plus, he sometimes made them food.

When you first started hanging out with him, you got the third degree hard. You knew it was just because your friends cared about you and didn’t want you falling back into your awful depression, but it was also kind of annoying that they suddenly wanted to be protective when it felt like they wanted you to get over the whole Hansol thing already. 

But now, it was almost like Mingyu was the thirteenth resident of the dorms. Half the time, if you were somewhere, Mingyu was bound to be there, too.

“Your shadow’s gotten taller,” Mori joked as the two of you passed her in the kitchen.

“If he’s my shadow, you think Soey will be pissed if he ends up at the studio later?” you asked jokingly.

“Wouldn’t put it passed the two of you for him to end up there.”

Mori looked up at Mingyu with a knowing look, and Mingyu just shrugged, cheeks turning pink, “At least I’d be there on time for our session tomorrow.”

-

I know we only just met so why do I feel invested? And do you feel it too? Do you feel it too?

Mingyu finally understood what it was like to want to listen to the same song on repeat. Because that was how he felt about this song. It was the perfect song for his situation. How he fell for you instantly. How he was trying to be respectful while you healed your heart. How he had gotten so attached to you and had begun wondering if you could or would ever feel the same for him. Whenever he heard it, he thought of you, and he never wanted to get you out of his head to he just kept it on.

I could be your best yet; Future favorite regret; Do you feel it too? Do you feel it too?

He watched you, drunk and borderline unhinged, as you passionately sang along to the song in his bedroom. Most of the members had gone out for a night of drinking, and while he invited you, you decided you wanted to stay home so he offered to stay in and drink.

And boy, was he glad he did, or he wouldn’t witness you using his hair mousse as a microphone so you could sing his newest favorite song at the top of your lungs while you jumped on his bed.

I've gotta let you know that I think that I love you so.

It was so hard to not be hopelessly in love with you, especially in moments like this. Moments where you were goofy and unapologetically weird. Moments where you did whatever you wanted and just acted so you. Moments that were rare for the rest of the world to see. Moments that were just for him.

You could be my only one; I've gotta let you know.

You’d come so far from when your heart was first broken, and the more time he spent with you, the harder it became for him to not say anything. Even if you denied him, he wanted to tell you. This must’ve been how you felt when you wanted to confess to Hansol. He wanted to do it so badly that he thought he’d throw up.

But now wasn’t the right time. Not while both of you were drunk. Not while he was still even a little bit unsure if you were over Hansol.

So I'll just tell my telephone all of the above when I'm alone.

In the middle of him laughing loudly and shouting along with you, his phone buzzed on his lap. He picked it up to see it was Minghao texting to see how things were going. Wanting to know if his alone time with you was going well or not.

At least he had his friends to talk to in the mean time so the word vomit wouldn’t make him explode.

So I'll just tell my telephone all of the above when I'm alone.

── « ⋅ʚ ♫ ɞ⋅ » ───

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[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 7 - Disappear

(Warning in advance that this one gets kinda angsty~)

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

FCG Centric Angst + FCG & Ashton

What… What had happened?

One moment, Fresh Cut Grass had been beside their friends, fighting Ludinus and kicking his sorry ass! The next, there had been a flash, a pain that felt beyond the realms of all comprehension, and then… then silence. Darkness.

And now this.

There was a blurry sight before him. His friends? Yeah! His friends! And they were seemingly rejoicing? Had they won? Was this all finally over?

Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but give a hollar of joy, wheeling over to join the rest of the Hells. They were battered, bleeding and bruised, but the smiles they held were unmistakable. There was a joy there that couldn't be touched, a laughter that rang joyously through the smoldering battlefield.

“We did it! I can't believe we actually fuckin’ DID IT!” Ashton damn near shouted, pumping a fist into the air as Fearne threw her arms around him as she dissolved into relieved, almost euphoric laughter.

“And we all made it through!”

“Not a heartbeat lost!” Imogen added, playfully ribbing Laudna in the side, who simply beamed down at her girlfriend, pulling her in for a breathtaking kiss.

“We were impeccably lucky, my dear~ Imagine if that blast had hit anyone else but them?”

Fresh Cut Grass paused in their excited rocking at that comment, a dash of hurt smacking them over the head, in what had otherwise been a sea of celebration.

“That blast still hurt real bad!” They interjected, huffing just a tad. And yet… there was no response. Heck, no one even so much as looked his way! Why… why were they ignoring him? Had he done something wrong?

“That would have been a grim tragedy,” Orym said, with a deeply heavy sigh. “I don't know if I could have taken another loved one dying…”

“Buck up, soldier boy!” Chetney barked out with a grin, his words punctuated by a playful smack upside Orym’s head. “We only lost the pile of scrap metal. Nothing important. That was some bitchin’ luck we had going for us! Figured all our asses would be ash by now!”

What… What were they saying?

This had to be some kind of cruel joke, right? Yeah! That’s right! This was a joke! It wasn't a funny one by any stretch of the imagination, and Fresh Cut Grass hadn't felt so- so hurt like this since… Dancer. B-But hey! Maybe it was the stress of the fight messing with their judgment and humor? Wasn't dark humor a typical coping strategy for heart beat folk?

“Al- Alright, you guys have had your fun! This joke ain’t funny though. That blast really did hurt and so did your words!”

“Fuuuck…” Ashton muttered, a look of realization flashing before their eyes. At that, Fresh Cut Grass felt their core calm down, only realizing now just what an awful buzzing mess it had been. This whole things must have really been stressin’ them out!

“I just realized… I’ll never have to hear them harpin’ on about that fuckin’ Changebringer and her bitch ass brigade of gods ever again! Thank FUCK!"

Ice.

Everything suddenly felt as cold as ice.

They… They hadn't even known they could feel cold until right this very second.

“Ughhhh! That was always so annoying!” Fearne whined, her eyes rolling dramatically as she dropped a hand upon her popped hip. “I was always real tempted to melt his yappy little head, along with that stupid coin of his!”

“I really should have finished the job when they first snapped and tried to murder us all…”

“I should have let ya, Laud. Sorry I stopped you…”

“It’s alright, Imogen~ What’s done is done, hm~? And he’s rather dead now, so what does it matter?”

“At least that pompous fuck was good for something!”

“Despite all the deaths and suffering he caused… I have to agree,” Orym responded, sheathing his blood slicked sword. “Of all the lives he snuffed out… I’m glad that Fresh Cut Grass was one of them. He died with at least one good deed to his soul.”

Was it possible for aeormatons to feel sick?

It absolutely shouldn't have been, and yet… yet sick was what they felt. A deep, twisting nausea they’d only ever heard about swirled through them, leaving their hands quivering and something… thick and slick trailing down his face plate.

Tears?

No, they couldn't be tears. He couldn't cry.

… Right?

There was nothing to be made sense of right now though.

Not as their friends laughed, so bright and free in their cruelty, in their relief at his…

His death.

Was he really dead?

A flick of a hand, so unsure and unsteady, sliding right through Ashton’s rumbling chest, was all the confirmation they needed.

Dead.

They were dead.

They were dead and everyone was glad.

And here he was, left to watch his friends gleefully express their joy, to state just how <b>happy</b> they were that they’d never once have to see him again.

And all FCG could do was watch.

Was… Was this what true despair tasted like?

The bitterness sunk deep into their soul, seeping into the cracks as it ever so slowly shattered.

Deeper and deeper, into the darkness they sank, wishing for nothing more than for themself to vanish, to disappear permanently.

Then, a hand, firm and heavy.

Shaking.

A shout, desperate and concerned,

Light.

Ashton's deeply worried face crept into focus, their hand gripped tight upon his shoulder from where he’d been shaking them.

“Thank fuck…” he whispered, a heavy breath falling from their lips as Ashton pulled Fresh Cut Grass in for a rare and wonderfully crushing hug. “You started whimpering and wincing in your sleep, then there was oil leakin’ from your lenses and you started crying out and… and you wouldn't wake up, Letters. Scared the shit outta me.”

“A-Ashton?” Fresh Cut Grass croaked on out, their whole chassis quivering every bit as much as it had been… before. What had just happened? Wasn't he dead? Why could he touch Ashton now and why did they seem so worried about them?

“I’m here, Grass. I’m here…”

“I- I don't… I don't un- understand…”

“Pretty sure you were havin’ a nightmare, buddy. A real shit one, from how you were reacting. I don't know what you saw in there, but whatever it was, it was bullshit, okay?”

Was it though? It… It had all felt so real.

“You don't… don't…” Fresh Cut Grass tried to get out, failing over and over as sobs wracked through them, staining Ashton’s chest with their dark, oily tears. “You don't hate me, r-right? Don't wa- want me dead, d-do ya?”

Ashton’s arms tightened around them, so firm and heavy that Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but sink into the embrace.

It felt so… safe. Welcoming.

Like he was home.

“Never. You could stab me in the fuckin’ head and I still wouldn't hate you. You could cut my whole damn arm off and you’d still be stuck with me! Not that you ever would on purpose,” Ashton quickly assured them, not wanting to send their very best friend spiraling. Especially right now. They seemed so frightened, so genuinely hurt and distraught.

It was fucking heartbreaking.

“You’re crew, Letters. You know what that means? It means that I’ll fuckin’ OBLITERATE this shitty ass world before I’ll ever let it harm ya, you hear me? The only reason I’d ever want ya dead is if this world gets too fucked up to live on, and that's only cause it’d be crueler to let anyone live then. You… You’re important, Fresh Cut Grass. You're important to me.”

Metallic arms threw themselves around Ashton, clinging to him for dear life as Fresh Cut Grass’ sobs grew louder, shaking violently in safety of the earth Genasi’s embrace,

“... Fuck it. I hope you’re listening, cause I’m only saying this shit once, okay?” Ashton muttered against the cerulean blue wires that mimicked hair on their robotic friend. “... I love you. A fuck ton. I dunno what dream me said, but whatever that fucker spat out, I’m sorry as hell for it. I’d punch that assfuck if I could, you know I would! I… I just hope you can believe the shit I’m sayin’ now.”

For a good few minutes, that confession hung in the air, only sobs and cries filling the cool night air of their inn room. Yet as the time passed, so too did that nightmare, it’s ghoulish whisperings melting away into the candlelit room, leaving only the sounds of their core whirling and Ashton’s steady breaths above him.

“... I- I love you too, Ashton…” Fresh Cut Grass hoarsely whispered, as the final oily tear fell from their face plate, dripping to the now stained floor below. “I- Thank ya… Thank ya so dang much…”

“Don't mention it, Grass. Shit’s what you do for your crew.”

A flash of a grin, warm and wide and so familiarly rough.

It warmed him, right down to their soul.

And as Ashton ushered them over to the side of his bed, making sure they were right by their side as he laid down to sleep once more, their hands gripped tightly together, even as they slipped back into slumber's sweet embrace…

Fresh Cut Grass thought that, perhaps, love really was something they truly understood.

[yelenasdiary]

🎄Christmas Advent Calendar 2022🎄

❄️ Welcome to my Fan Fic Advent Calendar!! ❄️

Here you'll find all my short & fluffy works over Christmas! Each day will be marked with '☃️' emoji for all fics that belong on this master list!

Requests for this are: OPEN

Please note that sending a request doesn't guarantee it'll be written, I'll do my best to fulfil them though.

✨ = Fluff | 💥 = Light Angst | 🧸 = Domestic Family Life | 🥰 = Platonic |

Characters -

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Kate Bishop x Reader | ✨

Christmas Love - Wanda Maximoff x Reader | ✨ | 💥

Made With Love - Wanda Maximoff x Reader | ✨

Ice Skating - Natasha Romanoff x Reader | ✨

Something New - Yelena Belova x Reader | ✨

Romanoff's List - Natasha Romanoff x Reader | ✨

Christmas Widow - Natasha Romanoff x Reader | ✨

Santa - Yelena Belova x Reader | ✨

Love This Christmas - Wanda Maximoff x Reader | 🧸 | ✨

Happy Hanukkah - Wanda Maximoff x Reader | ✨

Home This Christmas - Yelena Belova x Reader | ✨

Yappy howl-idays - Kate Bishop x Reader | ✨

Festive Calendar - Natasha Romanoff x Autistic! Reader | ✨

CEO of Christmas - Natasha Romanoff x Reader | 💥

Christmas Joy - Wanda Maximoff x Reader | ✨ | 💥 | 🧸

Celebrities -

Little Elf - Florence Pugh x Reader | 🧸| ✨

Gingerbread Wars - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader | ✨

Cookie Special - Florence Pugh x Reader | ✨

Late Minute Surprise - Scarlett Johansson x Reader| ✨

Secret Santa - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader | ✨

Christmas Dream - Scarlett Johansson x Reader | ✨

My Love - Scarlett Johansson x Reader | ✨ | 💥

Let It Snow - Scarlett Johansson x Reader | ✨

First Christmas - Florence Pugh x Reader | 🧸| ✨

Others -

Because I am already 4 days late on this, I will be posting double just to catch up!! I can't wait to share the Christmas joy with you all!!

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!

[cheerscoops]

Wherever You Point To I’ll Find ~ Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Nobody expected a budding romance between Steve and Chrissy when they were invited on this graduation road trip. But, as the two spend more and more time together away from the pressures their families, they just might find that they’re the perfect match.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: modern au, road trip, mutual pining, fluff, angst, discussion of mental health and body issues, eventual smut, adult themes and swearing throughout

Word Count: 8.7k

A/N: Perhaps the best part of writing this chapter was the bit that came afterwards when I got to hear @quinnkeerys read it out loud and react to it in real time. This chapter has some of my very favorite bits of the story in it, and I hope you all love it as much as I do <3

In the morning, the group ate a quick breakfast at the hotel before checking out and loading up the car. They had a long drive to Cincinnati ahead of them once they factored in the two hour detour to the World’s Largest Rocking Chair since Eddie insisted that it wasn’t a real road trip if they didn’t see the World’s Largest Something, and they wanted to get on the road as soon as possible so they could combine that detour with a stop for lunch.

Of course, getting Eddie out of bed early enough to stay on schedule meant that he was not ready to face the day when they got in the car. Soon enough, he was dozing off in the backseat, and Nancy fell asleep cuddled up next to him. The silence in the car was deafening, and it only left Chrissy to obsess over every little interaction she’d had with Steve.

It was bad enough that she'd fallen asleep on him the night before, and it only got worse when they'd left the hotel. Steve had put his arm on the back of Chrissy's seat when he'd turned to back out of their parking space, and she'd come close to swooning. She felt like a silly little school girl with a crush, and it was embarrassing. She'd just graduated. She should be over obsessing about this kind of thing by now.

But every time she'd talked herself down from the blushing mess that she'd become, Steve smiled at her as he offered her the aux cord or asked her if the air conditioning was too cold for her, and she was right back at square one again.

She was considering pretending to fall asleep just so she could avoid looking at him when he spoke up.

"So, Jason Carver, huh?"

And just like that, her butterflies were gone. Instead, she could feel the anxiety eating away at her. That horrible, gnawing feeling that appeared whenever anyone mentioned him or wanted her to talk about him. She'd gladly spend the rest of her days as a giggling idiot, embarrassing herself in front of everyone she met if it meant that she never had to hear that name ever again.

"I will literally give you every last cent in my account if you promise to never bring him up around me," she told him. She started picking at the frayed edge of her shorts and avoided looking away from her lap.

"Bad breakup?" he asked.

"Among other things."

"I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again."

"Don't be. It's not your fault . . . You know, he never had a nice thing to say about you."

Chrissy regretted bringing up Jason's opinions of Steve immediately. There was no reason for him to know about that, and now she was going to ruin any chance she had of things ever not being awkward between her and Steve all because she didn't know when to shut her mouth.

"I barely remember anything he said," she told him in an attempt to backtrack and erase her last statement. "I tended to tune him out when he got like that, and you're very obviously nothing like he said you were anyway. He just wasn't your biggest fan."

Steve huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

"He was always like one of those yappy little ankle-biting dogs," he told her. "Just loud and annoying and so desperate to make people pay attention to him. I never really liked the guy either, so whatever he said about me doesn't bother me. If he needed to try to bring me down to make himself feel better, it says a lot more about him than it does about me."

"So you're not mad at me for bringing it up?"

"Not even a little bit."

Chrissy was finally able to relax for a minute. She let out a sigh as she turned slightly to look out her window.

"I wish it was that easy for me to just not care about what other people thought of me."

She said it quietly enough that she didn't know if she was saying it to Steve or to herself, but he still heard her.

"It'll get easier for you now that you're hanging out with the right people."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

She offered up a small smile. Maybe he was right. Maybe being on this trip and spending her time with people who didn't expect a certain image from her was exactly what she needed to start brushing the harsh words off her back.

"Since talking about that is off the table, I have to ask," he started to break the silence. "How did you and Eddie start hanging out? I've come up with maybe half a dozen theories and none of them seem plausible."

"He never told you?"

"All he's ever said is that you were one of his little lost sheep, and you ended up being his favorite of the flock. Whatever that even means."

Chrissy stifled a laugh.

"That sounds like something he'd say," she replied. "And honestly, it's not even that inaccurate."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. It was maybe a little over a month into my freshman year, and auditions for the first play of the year were after school. I stayed after my last class ended and went to the drama room to get started on my English homework while I waited for auditions to start. Eddie came in and found me sitting on his throne with my nose buried in my copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He immediately pointed out that I was sitting in his spot and that most freshmen were smart enough to avoid the school freak. I was terrified."

"You were?" Steve asked. "I can't imagine being scared of him."

"Well yeah. That's because you're you, and you know him. I'd barely been at the school, I'd never met him before, and I'd already seen him give three speeches while standing on top of his table at lunch. He was the most intimidating of all the upperclassmen to me. So I'm just stammering and trying to explain that I didn't know it was his spot, and of course, he could tell that I was scared. When he really realized it, it was like a switch flipped. He sat down on the armrest and his whole demeanor changed. Made some comment about how I was shaking like a little bunny rabbit and asked me to scrunch up my nose so he could get the full effect. Used the overdramatics that I'd seen in the cafeteria to make me laugh until I was at ease around him. Once he could tell that I wasn't afraid of him anymore, he told me that he guessed it was okay if I sat on his throne for the time being, but if he ever caught me there again, he'd pick me up and move me himself.

"I didn't even realize that he was part of the drama club until auditions started. We were paired to read together a couple times during the auditions, and the director kept commenting about how we had this natural chemistry that she hadn't been expecting. 

"When the auditions ended, I couldn't get a hold of either of my parents to come and pick me up, and none of my friends were in the drama club, so Eddie offered me a ride. After that, we were cast opposite each other as the sort of leads in the play, and the rest is history. We've been practically inseparable ever since."

“So, he essentially adopted you?” Steve asked.

“Kind of?” she said with a laugh. “Adoption feels like the right term. I consider him and his uncle as family at this point, and I’d like to think that they feel the same way. I know that our friendship makes no sense to anyone looking in on it from the outside. We’re so different, and we traveled in completely opposite social circles for the entirety of high school. On paper, this friendship shouldn’t work, but Eddie is the only person I’ve never felt like I had to hide the real me from. He’s the big brother I never wanted and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet. I’ll be sure to tease him relentlessly for it.”

“Be prepared for the most overly dramatic reaction you’ve ever seen from him then.”

“I don’t think he can get any more over the top than I’ve already seen him. You forget that I also spent four years in high school with him, and I saw many many lunchroom outbursts over the years.”

“Oh yeah? During the first play my junior year, one of the new freshmen assumed that Eddie and I were dating because of how attached at the hip we were all throughout rehearsals. After opening night, the kid asked him if he was going to take me out on a special date to celebrate our performance. When he asked the kid what he meant, his response was that obviously we needed to celebrate as a couple for putting on such a good show. He spent maybe fifteen minutes running around backstage making vomiting noises and moaning about how he could never date his sister. I was laughing so hard that I started crying, and Eddie yelled that the kid was tearing his family apart. It’s one of my favorite and most ridiculous memories from our friendship.”

“Wait. People actually thought you two were dating?”

“You know how Eddie is. Personal space has no meaning to him, so he’s always been an affectionate and physical best friend. Lots of hugs and sitting practically on top of each other and hanging off of each other for no reason. He was my ride home every day until I started driving, and even when other friends tried to make plans with either of us, Sunday afternoons were always specifically reserved for us to spend time together. It’s always been an unwritten rule of our friendship. Put all of that together, and I can maybe see why people thought that there was something more going on there. Plus, when he first started flirting with Nancy, I had to spell it out to her that we weren’t a couple, and he was actually into her. She was convinced we were seeing each other, and she’s maybe the smartest person I’ve ever met. And, for the record, half the school thought Robin was your girlfriend for similar reasons until one of the football players cornered her in the bandshell before one of the games and asked her how she bagged Harrington. She yelled that you two were platonic with a capital P, and then threatened to shove her trumpet up the nose of the next person who insinuated that you two were into each other.”

Steve choked on his laughter, and Chrissy felt a little sense of pride that she could get that reaction from him even if she was just repeating something that one of his friends had said. And with Steve laughing, she couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Their laughter woke up Eddie and Nancy, and the group decided that they were close enough to the World’s Largest Rocking Chair that they could find somewhere to stop off for lunch before finishing the last little bit of the drive there. Nancy pulled up an interesting looking diner up on her phone and directed Steve on which way to go.

It was only once they were inside the diner and being led to their table that Chrissy realized the seating dilemma. Up until this point, they’d sat at open tables or outside where she’d still have some semblance of personal space no matter who she was sitting beside. But this time, they were given a booth. Eddie slid in on one side and pulled Nancy to sit down beside him leaving Chrissy no other option than to sit beside Steve. Normally, this wouldn’t have been an issue for her. She could share a booth with a friend like that easily. She’d done it with Eddie anytime that they went out with the other drama club kids, and she’d done it with other cheerleaders during many different hangouts. But Steve was different. With the beginnings of a crush making her already feel so incredibly awkward around him, the idea of being trapped between him and the wall with no escape route both scared and excited her.

She slid into the open side of the booth, and Steve followed after her. Their knees bumped under the table as he took his seat, and Chrissy felt her heart skip a beat. She busied herself with staring at the menu in front of her in the hopes that finding a decent lunch option would be enough of a distraction from being this close to Steve that she could act normal.

She shouldn’t have been worried though. She was sitting across from Eddie, and her best friend was always up to something that would keep her from dwelling on whatever she was wrapped up in for too long. This time, he was very enthusiastically ordering a drink off of the kids’ menu and making sure that this was allowed even though he was in fact a twenty year old man and not a six year old.

“What’s so special about a Shark Attack?” Chrissy asked after their waitress had walked away with their menus to place their orders.

“You’ll see when it gets here,” Eddie told her.

She didn’t have to wait very long because the waitress returned shortly with their drinks. The only visual difference that she could see between her glass of ice water and the drink in front of Eddie was that his drink also had a tiny plastic shark sticking out of the ice and floating on top.

“Oh, I get it,” she said. “It comes with a toy and they make it look like it’s crashing out of the water.”

“That’s not the best part. Just watch.”

Nancy and Steve shared a look and an eye roll as Eddie carefully lifted the shark out of his glass and started softly singing the Jaws theme song, but Chrissy was captivated. Eddie plunged the shark headfirst into his drink as he made the accompanying shark attack noises, and the grenadine that was hidden in the shark’s mouth spilled out into the drink turning his Sprite red as if it were the ocean and the shark had just attacked someone and spilled blood.

As soon as she realized what was happening, Chrissy started giggling. She’d never been allowed to order anything like that when she was a child. Her mother always said that anything like that on the kids’ menu had too much sugar, so she had no idea that’s what was to expect from Eddie’s drink. The performance that he put on only enhanced the experience, so she couldn’t help but laugh.

Eddie was beaming at Chrissy, happy that he’d been able to pull such a reaction from her, and normally, Nancy’s attention would have been on the two of them as well. How could she not be paying attention to her boyfriend when he was making a spectacle of himself? This time, however, she found herself glancing over at Steve, and she found that he was entranced by Chrissy, too. He was just sitting there and watching her with this goofy smile on his face, and the inkling that she’d had the night before about there maybe being something starting between them only grew stronger.

Truthfully, it was the first time that Steve had looked at Chrissy that way. Maybe he didn’t notice it before because he was laughing just as hard as she was back in the car, but she was absolutely beautiful when she laughed. She scrunched up her nose, her shoulders shook, and her smile was maybe the biggest he’d ever seen it. If he could, he thought he’d maybe spend every moment with her trying to get her to look that happy for as long as he knew her.

He pulled himself away from those thoughts as quickly as he could though. She’d just implied that her last relationship wasn’t exactly the greatest, and from what she’d said when Eddie brought up making herself a dating profile, it didn’t seem like she was ready to get herself involved with anyone else right now. He didn’t even know if what he was feeling right now was attraction. All he knew was that the little voice in the back of his head was telling him that he’d never grow tired of seeing her smile.

After lunch, they made it the rest of the way to the World’s Largest Rocking Chair. Unfortunately for Eddie, there was no actual way for anyone to sit on the chair, so they had to be content with just taking photos of themselves posing in front of it.

“All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t have hurt anyone if you guys had let me try to climb up there myself,” Eddie pouted once they were back in the car.

“Except it would have hurt someone,” Nancy told him. “Specifically, you when you fell and broke every bone in your body, and I refuse to explain to your uncle why we had to cut our trip short and bring you home in a full body cast.”

Eddie didn’t have time to retort because it was at that moment that someone cut them off in traffic, and Steve had to slam on the breaks. Chrissy tensed up and braced herself for the yelling. Whenever anything like this happened when she was in the car with Jason, he spent the next five minutes honking his horn at the person who cut them off and yelling about how they needed to get their head out of their ass and learn to drive. The reaction to the offense always scared her more than anything else, and she was ready to fold in on herself until she could calm herself down from it.

But the yelling never came. There were no loud noises, and Steve didn’t lean on the horn for an extended period of time. His only reaction was to mutter something under his breath about the driver being a jackass before checking to make sure if everyone was okay. Nancy and Eddie were fine in the backseat, but when he glanced over at Chrissy, she was wide-eyed and stiff as a board.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked.

Chrissy nodded slightly.

“I thought you were going to yell,” she said barely above a whisper.

“I’m not gonna yell,” he said as he reached over and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “I promise.”

At first, she seemed to tense up even more under his touch, but after a moment, he felt her relax as the tension left her body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked her again.

She nodded again, and he squeezed her knee slightly before withdrawing his hand.

“Thank you.” 

Her voice sounded so tiny, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was because of the car that cut them off or whatever it was that was going on inside her head. He just knew that he never wanted her to look that scared around him ever again.

From the backseat, Nancy and Eddie shared a pointed look. They’d have to discuss this when they had a little more privacy. Neither of them could deny that there was some sort of electricity buzzing in the air between Steve and Chrissy, and Nancy was very interested in figuring out what was going on.

The rest of their drive to Cincinnati passed without any major incidents, and the group was able to enjoy their dinner at a normal hour. After they were done eating, Nancy mentioned something about them passing a cute little ice cream shop about five minutes before they made it to their dinner spot, and they should head back that way and get some dessert before heading to their hotel for the night.

Nobody was going to turn down ice cream - even Chrissy who could be content with a single scoop of plain vanilla if they didn’t have any low fat options - so they piled back into the car to head over there.

Once inside the ice cream shop, Eddie made a point of asking for samples of the six different flavors that he was interested in trying just so he could be sure that he chose the right flavor.

“What are you gonna get?” Steve asked Chrissy as he nudged her with his elbow.

“I don’t know. Probably just vanilla.”

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“What do you mean nope?” she asked with a small giggle. “You can’t dictate my order.”

“Plain vanilla is too boring.”

“But I like plain vanilla.”

“C’mon, Chrissy. You’re on vacation. Live a little.”

Chrissy scanned the ice cream case in front of them. Nancy still had to order before it was her turn, so she had a little bit more time to change things up if she really wanted to. A few flavors stuck out to her, but she was a little overwhelmed by the options. Add in the fact that her mother would be losing her mind over her even thinking about choosing something so rich, and it was going to be a difficult decision to make.

“Okay, then what are you going to get if you know so much?”

“Mint chocolate chip. It’s superior to all other flavors.”

“You go before me then. Give me a little more time to decide since you’re forcing me to change my order.”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything. I’m just trying to be a good influence and get you to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.”

Chrissy waited behind Steve as he ordered his double scoop cone of mint chocolate chip, and when it was her turn to order, she chose a single scoop of salted caramel pretzel in a cup. Steve was right. It was her vacation, and she was allowed to have a little treat if she wanted. They had so much planned for the next day that she’d burn off all the calories from this ice cream and then some, so there was no way her mother could get mad at her for a small indulgence.

“That’s not vanilla,” Eddie pointed out when Chrissy sat down at the table that he, Steve, and Nancy were already occupying.

“I know.”

“But you always get vanilla,” he continued. “I’ve never seen you get anything other than plain vanilla.”

“I’m on vacation,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I’m living a little.”

Steve smirked and nudged her with his elbow.

“Oh, you hush,” she said as she giggled and nudged him back.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m just glad you listened to me is all.”

“You know,” Nancy started, “it makes sense that Steve would be the one to get you to try something new. He’s kind of an ice cream expert.”

“He is?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie continued. “He’s even got the little uniform to prove it.”

“What am I missing here?” Chrissy asked.

“You don’t know?” Nancy asked before turning her attention towards Eddie. “How have you never taken her there?”

“Completely slipped my mind. Usually, we just hang out at the trailer or the school. I’m only ever over there when I need to go to the music store or we’re bothering Steve. There’s no other reason to be there.”

Steve groaned. “Do we really have to talk about this?”

“Absolutely, we do,” Eddie replied. “I mean, we’re in an ice cream shop. I can’t think of a more appropriate place for us to be talking about this.”

“Can someone please fill me in on it then?”

Steve looked up at the ceiling and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Do you remember that ice cream shop in the mall?” he asked her.

“Kind of? I can’t say I’ve ever been there, but isn’t everything sailor themed with super dorky puns for the flavor names?”

“Scoops Ahoy. I kinda worked there for the last year.”

“Well, that explains why the other cheerleaders wanted to spend so much time there.”

“And you didn’t go with them?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t really eat a lot of sweets.” Chrissy stared down at her hands in her lap. “And I always figured that there was no point in going if I wasn’t going to be buying anything, so I skipped those hangouts.”

She neglected to add that the main reason she didn’t go to most of those hangouts was because of the things she’d heard from both her mother and Jason about spending time at the ice cream shop. Jason had always been more subtle in his cruelty, but whenever Chrissy had mentioned that the girls were planning on getting ice cream after a game, he’d always had something to say about how it was fine if the other girls wanted to do it, but questioned if Chrissy really wanted to have to have an extra work out session over something as silly as a little S. S. Butterscotch. Even if she had been thinking that it was maybe okay for her to get a treat, his comments always left her feeling undeserving.

Steve was too busy being grateful that Chrissy had never seen him in that goofy sailor getup to realize how quiet she’d just gotten. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed that he had worked there. He’d gotten over that a while ago. Now it was just some job that he’d had to suffer through and was glad to be rid of it now that he’d finished his last shift there. It was just easier for people to still think he was cool if they hadn’t seen him as an ice cream-slinging sailor, and part of him hoped that Chrissy thought he was maybe just a little bit cool. 

Those hopes were dashed the second she spoke again.

“So, who has pictures of Steve in uniform, and when can I see them?” she asked.

“Absolutely not,” Steve replied. “You have to earn the right to see those pictures.”

“And how would one go about earning that right?”

“For starters, you could give me a taste of your ice cream,” he said as he reached for her cup. “Which only seems fair since I’m the one who convinced you to get something interesting.”

Chrissy moved to hold her ice cream out of his reach. “I don’t think so. If you wanted to try a new flavor, you could have gotten something other than mint chocolate chip.”

“But what if I wanted my favorite flavor and to try something new?”

“I mean, Eddie had like six different samples before he made his decision. You could have done that, too.”

“C’mon. Just one little taste and maybe I’ll let them show you one picture.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him on the bench seat that they were sharing in an attempt to be able to reach her ice cream better. Having him hold onto her like that caused her brain to short circuit, and by the time she realized what was happening, he’d already stuck a finger into her cup. Just before he was about to stick his finger in his mouth, she grabbed his wrist and accidentally made him swipe the ice cream across his own nose instead.

“I am so sorry,” she told him through her giggles. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Part of her thought that maybe she should go and grab him some napkins or something, but she couldn’t will herself to move. His arm was still wrapped around her waist keeping her pressed up against his side, and the part of her that was harboring a crush on him wouldn’t allow her to get up.

Eddie started to say something, but he was cut off by Nancy gripping his thigh under the table. She shot him a look in an attempt to silently let him know that she wanted to see how this was going to all play out.

Across the table, Steve still had his arm wrapped around Chrissy, and neither of them were making any moves to do anything about the ice cream smeared on Steve's face. Chrissy could feel her face heating up from the intensity of the eye contact that they were making. It would have been so easy for her to just wipe it off his face herself, but she couldn't bring herself to cross that boundary. Which only made her start to think that she was being ridiculous. What boundary was left in this situation when he was still holding her so close? She was making things so awkward by not saying anything or moving, and surely, he was going to avoid her for the rest of the trip.

On the other hand, Steve was starting to think that Chrissy's silence meant that she was uncomfortable. He'd made things awkward by trying to steal her ice cream, and she was too polite to tell him off. She was probably sitting there thinking he looked like an idiot with that smear on his nose, and that's why she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face.

Steve's arm retracted from its spot around Chrissy's waist, but she didn't even have time to register that she missed it because he had chosen to wipe away the ice cream by lifting up the bottom of his shirt to use it as a napkin. Seeing the exposed skin of his chest had her thinking about him half-naked again, and she was trying very hard not to think about that as it was.

To keep herself from staring, Chrissy got up from her spot and went to grab some napkins. As he watched her rush away, Steve couldn't help but think she was desperate to put some space between them and the awkward situation he'd created.

But, when she came back to the table, she sat right back down next to him like she had been before. She handed him a couple napkins, and then produced a second spoon for her ice cream. She scooped up a little bite and held out the spoon for Steve.

"You really don't have to do that," he told her.

"I know. But I feel bad that I essentially shoved ice cream up your nose, so I think I can spare a little taste. Just this once."

Steve thanked her and took the spoon. As he ate what she offered, he promised himself that he'd do whatever it took to get Chrissy to joke around with him like that again.

"Can I ask you what's maybe a weird question?" Steve asked Eddie once they were alone in their hotel room for the night.

"Sure. What's up?"

"This morning, I brought up Jason in the car just trying to make conversation with Chrissy, and she was really vague and weird about it."

"That wasn't a question. That was a statement."

"I just wanna know why. She said it was more than just a bad break up, but she wouldn't go into detail about it. And then there was that whole thing in the car where she was afraid I was going to yell. I never wanna do anything that makes her look that terrified, you know? And I promised her that I wouldn't bring him up around her again, so I figured that I could maybe ask you about it instead."

Eddie paused in the middle of getting changed and let out a deep sigh.

"Listen," he said as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "I care about Chrissy more than I care about pretty much anyone else, and the last thing I want is for her to be scared or relive any of that bullshit, but it's not my story to tell. If she doesn't want to talk about Jason and her relationship with him, it's for a good reason, and you've gotta respect that."

"I just . . . I know you won't share all the details, but I just want to know if there's anything I can avoid doing to make her feel safe . . . Did he hurt her?"

"I told you. It's not my story to tell." Eddie got up from his spot on the bed and moved to lean against the bathroom door in an attempt to put some distance between them. He ran a hand over his face trying to wipe away the frustration he was feeling over whether he should tell Steve anything or not. On the one hand, if Chrissy hadn't wanted to talk about it with Steve, it was pretty clear to him that Steve didn't need to know the whole story. Nancy didn't even know the whole story, and Eddie typically told her everything. This was different though. He just couldn't break Chrissy's trust.

On the other hand, Eddie watched the way Steve and Chrissy played around together. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her laugh as hard as she did with Steve in the car that morning, and he could tell that these questions were coming from a place of genuine concern and not a need for gossip. So while he couldn't tell Steve the full story, he could talk about the details that he was involved in and hope that gets the point across.

"You remember how I always said that Jason was a Capital A Asshole? And how you always thought he was annoying and too focused on impressing the basketball guys over actually being a decent person? Well, take all of that and everything you assumed I was exaggerating about and make it at least fifty times shittier. He's worse than any of us ever imagined, and I didn't do anything about it because I made a promise to Chrissy that I'd stop fucking up my life on her behalf.

"So, when you ask me if he hurt her, all I can say is that I know he never laid a hand on her because if he did, I would have thrown that promise out the window, and Jason would have spent his senior year in a full body cast. But that doesn't mean he didn't put her through it, and that doesn't mean I didn't turn a blind eye to a lot of things because she told me that she could handle him on her own. And I really can't say anything more than that without betraying Chrissy's trust, and that's something I'll never do."

Steve stayed quiet after that. As much as he wanted to ask more about what Chrissy had gone through, he knew that he was dangerously close to overstepping a boundary, and he'd rather not piss off Eddie right before he was supposed to share a room with him. But he couldn't resist asking one more thing.

"So she wasn't scared of me in the car?"

"No. It wasn't you. I'm pretty sure it was just the situation. Besides, if she was scared of you, I don't think she'd have done whatever it is you two were doing with that ice cream."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh huh. Sure. 'Oh Chrissy, you have to let me try your ice cream. Let me just pull you up against me so you can feel how muscley my arms are.'" After impersonating Steve, Eddie switched positions and raised his voice in pitch to mimic Chrissy. "'Oh Steve, I'm ever so sorry that I turned your nose into a booger sundae. Let me sensually feed you a bite as an apology.'"

Steve grabbed a pillow from the bed that he was sitting on and hurled it at Eddie's head.

"That's not what happened and you know it. And it's not like there's anything between us anyway. We just met."

"Keep telling yourself that, Stevie," he said as he tossed the pillow back. "But I know what it looks like when you're into someone, and I definitely know what it looks like when she's into someone, so I'm pretty sure I can tell when the two of you are blatantly flirting in front of me. Do with that information what you will."

With that, Eddie ducked into the bathroom to leave Steve alone with his thoughts. He was certain that he hadn't been flirting with Chrissy. They were just a couple of buddies messing around with each other. That's all.

But no matter how much he wanted to believe that, he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that wanted to spend more time with her. That wanted to be the reason that she was smiling just like she had been earlier that evening. There was something special about her, and he was eager to learn more.

The first stop the next morning was the Newport Aquarium, and despite his best efforts, Steve was still fixated on what Eddie had said the night before. It didn't help that Eddie had dragged Nancy off to do their own thing the second that they were inside. He told himself that he was only going with Chrissy because it would be rude to leave her to wander the aquarium alone when they could easily walk around together. That was the only reason.

But then he saw the way that her face lit up when they walked into the jellyfish gallery. The lighting in the room bathed her in this purple glow, and he had to stop himself from staring at her while he was supposed to be watching the jellyfish. 

That's what Chrissy was doing anyway. She wasn't gawking at Steve like an idiot the way he felt like he was staring at her. He pulled out his phone and took a few sneaky candids of her without her noticing. He knew that he was supposed to show her every photo that he took of her immediately. That was the deal they'd made anyway. She had to approve of every photo, or they had to be deleted. Those were the rules.

But he didn't want her to decide those pictures weren't worthy of saving. Not right now when he was in awe of how one person could be so beautiful. So he pulled Mister Fibbley out of his pocket and took a picture of the tiny squirrel with the jellyfish, pretending that he'd never been focused on Chrissy at all.

When he stepped around the same jellyfish enclosure that she was looking at, Chrissy waved at Steve through the glass before sticking her tongue out at him. He feigned offense before mimicking her expression, and he felt something grip inside his chest when she started giggling and making more funny faces at him. Who knew that Chrissy Cunningham was such a dork, and who knew that that was exactly Steve's type? Both of these were revelations to Steve, and he was starting to think that maybe what Eddie had said the night before wasn't as ridiculous as he'd originally thought.

He didn't know how to deal with that though. The last thing he wanted to do was make a move on her if that wasn't what she wanted and Eddie was wrong about her being interested in him. That would lead to the most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he'd had enough of those with his parents over the years.

But he could talk to her and joke around with her. He could let her pull him around to the different exhibits and go at her pace to keep her company. He could just enjoy getting to spend time with her on her terms. And, if Eddie was right, and she was interested in him? Well, that was just a bonus.

When they'd made it through the aquarium, they separated to look around the gift shop. Steve had pretty much determined that there was nothing he wanted to buy there when he looked over at Chrissy and saw that she had the biggest smile on her face as she was looking at a small gator plushie and wiggling its paws back and forth. He watched her play with it a moment before she left it abandoned on the shelf. 

The next thing Steve knew, he was at the checkout counter buying the plushie for her. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he thought that maybe he could express his interest in her in subtle ways like that, and if she was open to what he was doing, she could make the first move.

When they got back in the car, Steve passed his souvenir bag over to Chrissy.

"For you."

He watched as she pulled out the plushie and her face lit up again.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I wanted to."

"Thank you. That was really sweet of you."

"Don't mention it."

He thought he could see a little bit of a blush starting to grow on her cheeks as she grinned down at the plush and wiggled its little paws again, and he smiled to himself. He thought that maybe he could be content with just being the one to make her look that happy. For now.

The next stop on Nancy's itinerary was Loveland Castle. She was hoping to explore a little, and Eddie figured he could use it as inspiration for a future campaign. Chrissy just wanted to find a shady spot to relax and enjoy how nice of a day it was, and Steve offered to keep her company. They planned on making the drive to West Virginia that night, and he figured he could take the time to relax since he'd be the one doing the late night drive.

The two found a tree to sit under, and Steve sprawled out in the grass with Chrissy sitting beside him. He just looked so peaceful laying there with his eyes closed and his arms back behind his head that she couldn't resist taking the opportunity to snap a couple candids for him.

As she was taking her last picture, Steve opened his eyes.

"Oh, are we taking candids now?" he asked.

"Just a couple. I hope that's okay."

"Doesn't bother me. It just means that I should probably take a couple of you."

"You don't have to do that. I don't need more pictures of myself."

"C'mon, Chrissy," he started as he sat up. "How are you ever gonna have a decent Bumble account if you don't have any pictures for it?"

"Fine. But I still get to choose which ones get deleted, okay?"

Steve nodded before pulling out his phone. He took his first picture a little too early and caught Chrissy mid-stretch.

"I wasn't ready yet!" Chrissy said as she moved her hands to cover her face. "You have to delete that one."

"They're not candids if you're posing for them though. Just trust the process. Relax and ignore the fact that I'm here."

So, that's what she did. She ignored Steve and played with her phone. She leaned back and looked off into the distance. She tried to be relaxed and calm and casual and cool and everything that she thought she should be in pictures. She let Steve work his magic.

But, with every picture that he took, Steve couldn't come up with a good reason why he was doing this. There was something special about Chrissy. She joked around with him and made goofy faces. She had the best smile, and she was so easy to talk to. She was beautiful, but she was so much more than that, and the idea of some other guy getting to experience all of that because of pictures he took made him sick. He wanted to be the one to make Chrissy blush, and with every picture he took, he felt a pang of jealousy echoing in his chest.

"Can I see them now?" Chrissy asked, biting down on her lower lip.

Steve hesitated. He hated that he did it, but he hesitated. Even in the photo where she was stretching, she was maybe the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. He didn't want some other guy seeing these. He knew it was selfish and wrong of him the second he did it, but he lied to her.

"I don't know," he replied. "I don't think they turned out very good. They're kind of blurry. I just dont think I'm very good at catching just the right moment, you know? But we can try again later if you want."

"That's okay," she said as she stared at her lap. "I understand."

And maybe if Steve wasn't feeling so guilty about lying to her, he would have seen the way her face fell.

He might have said that the pictures were unusable because they were blurry, but in Chrissy's mind, she knew the real reason. She just didn't photograph well. She could hear her mother's voice in the back of her mind telling her that she didn't have any good angles, so there was no point in trying. No picture of her would ever be good enough, and Steve was too nice to tell her the truth. He only said they were blurry to protect her feelings.

As much as she hated those thoughts, they stayed with her, and she stayed quiet. As her mind played tricks on her and attacked the very little self-confidence she had, she didn't speak much throughout dinner, and she spaced out in the car afterwards.

Nancy and Eddie had fallen asleep in the back seat, and Steve was focused on the road, so that left her to stare out the window alone with her thoughts and the musical theater playlist that she'd convinced Steve to let her put on playing softly in the background.

"You're really quiet over there. What's on your mind?" Steve eventually asked her.

"Nothing."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She had pulled out her phone and flipped through her camera roll. With every single picture of herself that she saw, the voice in her head got louder as it pointed out every single imperfection - real or imagined. The voice in her head didn't care. It just wanted her to feel as small and insignificant as it knew she was.

Steve glanced over at her and noticed what she was doing. He also noticed that she looked close to tears, and that nearly broke him. He didn't know what was going on in her head, but he knew it couldn't be good from the look on her face. He wasn't stupid. He noticed how quiet she got after he'd taken her picture earlier, and he noticed how quiet that she'd been since then. More quiet than she usually was. And he had a feeling that it was probably his fault. The guilt from earlier resurfaced, and he knew that he had to do something to keep her from crying. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He unlocked his phone and passed it over to her.

"Open my camera roll and then open the favorites tab," he told her without looking away from the road.

Chrissy was hesitant, but she followed his instructions and was surprised to find that all of his recent favorites were of her. There were a handful of the photos that he'd taken outside of the castle, but there were also a bunch of photos she hadn't realized he'd taken. Ones of her all throughout the aquarium. One of her laughing at one of Eddie's stupid jokes. Just a bunch of tiny moments that he'd wanted to preserve.

"If it isn't already obvious, I lied earlier," he told her. "There was nothing wrong with any of the photos I took of you, and I'm sorry for whatever my lies made you think. I just hated the idea of you asking me to delete them, and I really couldn't stand the idea of another guy seeing them. That doesn't justify what I did, but you deserved to know the truth. It was a dick move, and I'm really sorry. You can text whichever ones that you like to yourself and delete them off my phone if you want. And you don't have to save your number or anything if you think I'm a jerk. I'll understand if you don't really wanna talk to me anymore after that."

Chrissy stayed quiet as she flipped back through Steve's favorites folder again. She tried to see herself the way that he did, and while it didn't fully quiet her mother's voice, the fact that Steve liked the way she looked enough to consider pictures of her his favorites helped to make it a little quieter.

"So you don't think I look terrible?" she asked.

"Terrible? How could anyone ever think you look terrible?" he asked. "You're beautiful, Chrissy, and anyone who's ever made you feel otherwise is clearly blind."

"For the record, I don't think it was a dick move," she said after a moment. "It's actually kind of sweet."

"Oh yeah? Does that mean you've got a bunch of photos of me that you haven't shared yet?"

He glanced over at her and noticed that she'd started blushing again. He'd never get tired of having that effect on her.

"It's fine," he told her. "Keep them to yourself if you like. I'm starting to think that maybe dating apps aren't really my thing."

"It's the same for me. Who needs 'em?"

"Yeah, who needs 'em?"

The pair shared a smile before Steve turned his full attention back towards the road, and Chrissy went back to looking at Steve's camera roll. She sent herself every single picture that Steve had saved of her. Maybe if she looked at herself through Steve's eyes, it might be a little easier for her.

She was about to tell him that she was saving her number in his contacts when she realized he was softly singing along to the song that was playing - "Her Voice" from the Little Mermaid stage musical - and she whipped her head around to face him.

"How do you know this song?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"You're singing. And maybe this is me making a silly assumption, but I really didn't think that the Steve Harrington was a musical theater guy. Especially a musical theater guy who knows a song that only appears in the stage adaptation of a Disney classic."

"I had this nanny as a kid who was really into musicals. I don't remember most of the stuff she played for me, but she was really into The Little Mermaid, and I guess this one song just kind of stuck? It just sounds nice." He shrugged. "Maybe a more important question, but why don't you ever sing along? Someone who's passionate enough about musicals to have created their own musical theater playlist definitely seems like the kind of person to sing along to said playlist in the car."

"Oh, I'm not much of a singer. I love musicals, but I'm not really the kind of person to be in them."

From the tone of her voice, he could tell there was something else going on there, but he didn't want to press her any further. He could ask her more about that another time.

When they finally made it to the hotel, they woke Nancy and Eddie up, and the group made their way into their separate rooms.

Nancy was back asleep almost as soon as she climbed into bed, but Chrissy stayed up for just a little bit longer. She found herself scrolling through the photos that Steve had taken of her again, and she couldn't help but smile. She picked her favorite of the ones that he'd taken at the castle earlier, and she posted it to her instagram account. No long and wordy captions. Just a single smiling emoji surrounded by hearts.

Just as she was about to set her phone down, her screen lit up with two notifications. The first let her know that she'd been followed by the account of one Steve Harrington, and the second let her know that he was the first to like her photo. She bit her lip in a smile as she sunk down into her pillows, and she fell asleep thinking that maybe the little voice in her head was wrong. Maybe she really was beautiful.

[crystalmarred]

Get to know the Mun

1. Are you named after anyone? Technically, yes. My name—Allen—is taken from the first character I wrote on Tumblr. I got used to hearing people refer to me as Allen mun, so when I started identifying as nonbinary, I just went, “Eh, this is fine.” 

2. When was the last time you cried? Sunday night, due to a lot of overthinking until I managed to convince myself out of it in the early hours of the morning. Went to work on two hours of sleep the next morning, but eh, what can you do sometimes?

3. Do you have kids? Absolutely not. I have never been one for children. The closest I have to a child is a jasmine flower I have—and that nearly dies every winter, so no children for me.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Not as much as I used to. You’d hear it from me most often when I’m at work. 

5. What sports do you play/have you played? If it wasn’t required, I didn’t do it. I’ve never been one for sports and I’m not very athletic besides. 

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people? How they present themself. This doesn’t really refer to what they’re wearing or how they do their hair—or in the case of Tumblr, what their blog looks like. I mean how they talk about others and the general attitude they have. When someone is frequently negative and puts down others as a means of raising themself up, I find it very difficult to deal with them. We all have bad days, obviously, but some people just refuse to try it and make it better.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I've said it before, but I enjoy the struggle and the angst and the you-could-have-died's, but I strongly prefer a happy ending at the end.

8. Any special talents? Not really a talent, but I enjoying writing HTML? It's more of a hobby than anything. I don't take it very seriously; I just play around and make RP themes.

9. Where were you born? Texas! The land of the yeehaws.

10. What are your hobbies? Writing and gaming, mostly. Raiding, if you want to count that as a separate hobby, if a bit of frustrating one sometimes.

11. Do you have any pets? Peanut and Harley! They're a bit older and they're both mixes. Peanut is the yappy one that constantly wants to eat and Harley is the anxiety-riddled lap dog, weighing in at about 50 pounds.

12. How tall are you? 5'2". I live vicariously through my taller muses.

13. Fave subject in school? English because it was easy.

14. Dream job? Don't have one. As a child, it probably would've been writer. As it is, I'm actually happy with working in retail. I'm underpaid, but at least my boss appreciates me and most of my co-workers are tolerable.

15. Eye color? Hazel!

tagged by: @vierandancer — thank you, Lanna! tagging: @ whoever wants to, just pretend I tagged you.

[babygirl-riley]

Threads

Simon and the 141 are at the hospital that Allison was taken to. They try to figure out who the military men that attacked the Riley’s home. With the kids still missing and it being 72 hours, worry is all Simon can feel, and the anger that boils through. Laswell finds clues to who it is and why.

Warnings: PTSD related, violance, angst, swearing, sex mention

Simon sat in the corner of the room that the hospital was more than willing to give the team. No one moved or anything, Simon hadn’t cried. He couldn’t. He couldn’t feel anything. Allison was…Allison was in and out of surgery. His kids were gone without a fucking trace. Cops would talk about how there was no evidence and that the men were still being looked at.

“Simon do you take Allison as your wife.” Allison looked up at him her eyes sparkling in the sun, the green starring at his. Everything was perfect. He heard his kids cheering as he agreed to marry her. To be bonded with her. To be with her forever. His kids being with him forever. The family he never thought would happen.

The leaves in the back of the cabin swayed as they tumbled pass their feet. It wasn’t a big wedding just the 141, Kat, and the twins, their make shift family. The joy that Simon felt was never before felt, tears, happy tears. Price pulling him aside and saying how proud he is about Simon changing. Becoming more human than robot. Simon was happy. Content. It was perfect.

He could feel her skin still as they swayed to music. Holding each other close. The kids coming to dance with them. He never felt so much joy and love for anyone. Until these type of moments. Where he feels loved. Important.

Price stood as he played with his facial hair. Kat sat bouncing her leg, tears still falling. Soap was next to Ghost making sure he would be fine. Gaz leaned against the frame. Roach sat in the middle of the room. “Laswell will be video chattin us,” Price said breaking the silence. “Ghost do you know if you have any enemies?”

“We should get a dog,” Simon remembered her asking him couple weeks ago. “Would be fun for the kids.”

Simon chuckled. “It would be fun yeah? No small yappies though.”

Allison’s chuckle hit his ears, he loved that sound. He would tattoo it in his brain to listen over and over again. “For a big guy like you? No no small dogs.”

Simon didn’t say anything but playing with the silver ring, around his neck. The band that attached him and Allison. They haven’t gave him hers yet which is a good thing. Right..? “Ghost?” Price asked once more. “Simon.”

“Daddy! Look!” A picture that Athena drew of him with his skull mask, he looked like a potato like any 3 year old would draw. The most thing he loved was how she wasn’t scared of his mask, made him look like a hero then a monster.

“Wow.” He said looking at it grabbing it from her small hands. “This is so good.”

“What about mine!” Tommy shoved his paper at him. Simon chuckled seeing it was Allison. The potato was a bit more scribble looking.

“Mum would love it.” Simon commented looking down at his children.

Simone snapped his eyes up at Price before shaking his head. Simon wore his skull mask and balaclava, so no one could see his expression fully, see him vulnerable. “Nothin I know of.” He said quietly. “If I did they would already be dead.”

The room was tense after that, they knew that Simon was in his own head. Let alone on a war path. Once they figure out who they knew Simon will not stop until they find his kids and they’re dead. “We need to figure out who is after your family,” Gaz said scratching his chin. “If it is anyone even with a small grudge we should look into.”

Kat sniffled and went stiff. “They had a break in.”

Everyone looked over at Kat, Simon slowly looking over at her. “What.” He snarled. “What do you mean a break in?”

“You ‘ight lovely?” Simon asked he could tell that Allison wasn’t herself. She was silent. Short. He could tell she was trembling even.

There was a long pause on the other end. “Yeah yeah,” She murmured. “Just the kids made a big mess.”

“I see,” Simon knew that wasn’t it. There was a certain tone that she would have, the tone that wouldn’t admit that she wasn’t okay. “Was your day not good?”

Allison sighed, he could hear the stifle sob. “No it’s not that Si… I just miss you is all.”

Kat sighed before looking at him. “She didn’t want you to worry, I was with her visiting when everyone else was in Russia. They didn’t take anything, just things were moved and that was it. Allison thought best if nothing was said since nothing happened.”

Simon shook his head. “That says everything.” He mumbled looking at Price. “And you didn’t want to even mention anything? Or her? Why would…”

“She didn’t want to worry you, did you not hear that?” Kat snapped.

Simon shifted towards her and narrowed his eyes. “Whoever did could be the same fucking people who have my kids. So now it doesn’t matter but if it was told it could have been prevented yeah?”

Price sighed and shook his head. “Everyone let’s collect our head for a moment,” He pulled out his phone as it vibrated, and put it on speaker. “Laswell you’re on speaker.”

“Hello,” She said with remorse in her voice. “I am having the best people looking into what is happening. Any updates?”

“A break in happened a while ago, that wasn’t told until now.” Simon said his anger rising.

“Break in? When?” Laswell asked.

Simon turned to Kat who sighed. “Two months ago.”

It was quiet for a moment, before her voice rang through. “Okay anything else.”

Kat looked around. “There are security cameras throughout the home.” Simon snapped his head up at her. “Those were installed a couple of days before…Before the attack.”

“Good, do you have access?”

“No ma’am.” Kat whispered.

Laswell sighed and nodded. “Ghost?”

“There is an addition to the…” Allison started to say until Tommy screamed he wanted to talk to Simon. “Hold on, you wanna talk with daddy.”

Daddy. It still makes him feel the warmth run through him. “Daddy,” Tommy said basically breathing in his ear. Simon chuckled and replied. “Guess what! I made a score!”

Simon laughed. “No way, good job chap! I bet you made them cry.”

He heard Allison sigh and laugh. Simon knew that she didn’t want to have other kids cry during younger kids, not until their older. “Yeah I made them cry hard!” He could hear Tommy’s smirk from here.

“My turn dingleberry,” Athena’s voice was in the background. Simon wasn’t shocked by the new nickname. He heard the shuffling of the phone before he heard Athena. “I learned how to somersault!”

Simon smiled at the phone. “Lt,” He turned to Soap. “Debriefing time.” Soap had the sad look on his face. He knew Ghost loved having his time to talk to his family.

Simon sighed. “Daddy has to go but good job princess. Love you all.”

“Give ‘em hell daddy!” Athena yelled as he heard Allison telling her no.

“I love you come home safe!” Allison yelled in the back.

Simon gripped his ring. “No I just found out all of this less then 5 minutes ago.”

Laswell sighed again. “Allison is most likely the only one to have this access. I will tap into her phone and see what we can do. Other than that we will have to wait.”

“We have to make sure it isn’t a target for 141 as well. If it is everyone will be in trouble as well, we have to get our loved ones into safe homes.” Roach said cautiously looking at Ghost making sure he wouldn’t jump over everything to get him.

Laswell nodded. “I already have two people squads getting to everyone that is in need of that. Cause if it is…”

“Excuse me sorry to interrupt,” A nurse said walking in. Terror written in her face. “Mrs. Riley is awake,” Simon shot up. “She also has a surgical knife to one of our nurses if one of…”

Simon stormed out walking fast with the small nurse following behind. Price followed as well, keeping up with the nurse asking questions. When they reached the room, he could hear the nurses and doctor trying to calm Allison down.

The last night Simon saw Allison healthy was when they had sex more than once. They wanted all their touches, kisses, to be out before he had to leave. It was late, Simon would have to get up soon. Instead of sleeping he would be in between her legs making her cry and moan. Placing a blanket, pillow, hell even his tattoo arm to keep her quiet. Like it was the last day on earth for them.

Once they settled and were tired enough, they laid naked tangled in the sheets. “If you had to chose between me and the kids always chose them please.” Allison whispered.

“Allison…”

“Promise me Si.” Her voice was stern. He knew that he had to agree. Simon just didn’t want to even think of that being a possibility. Having to chose between the love of his life or the children she gave him.

Simon squeezed her close. “I promise.”

“Give me my children!” He heard her yell. “Or I will slicing her fucking throat!”

Simon walked in and saw the poor nurse on her knees in horror. Allison’s eyes had a craze look, a murderous look. Simon has seen it before in soldiers that wake up from a traumatic experience on the field. “Allison hun.” Simon said walking in, having everyone look over including the nurse. At first she didn’t move, holding it closer to her neck. “Allison baby, it’s me.” Simon said walking in more slowly.

Allison snapped her head over at the entrance, her face going soft, looking down at the nurse, and dropped the knife. “I’m…Im sorry.” She mumbled before the nurse scrambled away. “I thought…” She placed her hand in her head, looking at the IV stuck in her hand. “I am so sorry.” She sobbed looking at the nurse.

“It’s alright Mrs. Riley,” The doctor said as another nurse slowly went to her IV stand inserting a needle. “Mr. Riley will you help her back in the bed.”

Simon didn’t acknowledge instead walking to her. All the anger left with everything, just worry. His wife. His love. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Allison kept repeating holding onto Simon.

“It’s okay babygirl,” He picked her up to place her softly on the bed. He pet back some sweaty locks of hair, her eyes locked onto his. She had to be in pain, from how her face contorted from pain to normal. “Just lay down. Just rest baby.”

Her eye lids were softly closing to snap open. Fighting the sleep the begged her to come. “Our babies. They’re gone.” Then she wailed, as Simon pet her hair back. He held back his own sob as he shushed her. Simon had to be strong for her. Strong for his kids.

“I know. I know. We will find them.” He said, half knowing that they could be dead already. Usually when kids go missing especially if it is someone that is unknown the first 48 hours is crucial. However it’s been longer, way longer, he didn’t want to tell her that they haven’t found them let alone have a clue.

“He took them. He…” Her voice started to trail off. “He took…Gra…” Before she could finished she fell asleep holding to Simon’s hand hard. He looked at her ring, the diamond stained in red. He ran his thumb over it.

Simon let tears fall his face smiling at her. As she said I do, she was so beautiful that day. That day was more bright, perfect, nothing could or had gone wrong. His kids ran as they have their first kiss into marriage. Soap hugged Simon tight congratulating them, told him he never saw it coming for a grumpy man like him. Price was proud like a father would be, happy to see him happy, to see him settling down, to be himself. The happiest day. The perfect day.

Simon looked over at Price, tears in his eyes, Simon tried to suck them back in but looked away before his Captain saw. “She knows who took them.” He mumbled. “She tried to say something but…” He stopped himself trying to gather what she would be saying.

The doctor had his nurses leave and he cleared his throat. “She was repeating a name when she got a hold of our nurse.” Simon watched as he examined her wounds on her abdomen. The stitches indicated how deep each cut was, bruises surrounded the wounds.

Simon inhaled deeply, his anger flowing back in his veins. He held into her hand, rubbing circles not wanting to let go. Simon looked back up at the doctor. “What was the name?” He asked his voice holding back all the emotions that emerged.

The doctor looked at Price who came in more. “Graves, she kept saying Graves.” The doctor said looking down at Simon. “Do you know that name?”

Price froze, Simon curled his hand in the sheets. Graves? How? He…He blew up. Years ago. There wasn’t any way he could have survived. Right? Simon inhaled deeply. “No we don’t.” Price said before Simon could answer. “We don’t know that name.”

The doctor nodded. “Alright, she should be up here in a few hours. I will swing by to make sure everything is alright and give meds. Or my nurse will.” With that he left.

Once he left Price shut the door and waited for a moment. “We need to let Laswell know that he is alive. If it is Graves,” He paused watching how Simon stroked her hair as she slept. “Then we have a big problem.”

Simon nodded listening to ever word. “He will be the only one to have a problem. He almost killed Allison….He has my fucking kids. He is going to be a dead man.”

“Simon,” Price said cautiously. “You sure your mind will be…”

“Don’t do that,” Simon said standing up. “Don’t you dare think I am not ready to be in this. I have to be there for my kids. For Allison. He did this to my family.”

Price nodded and walked up to Simon placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not taking you off however, I need to know you won’t dive first into hell without a thought.”

Simon looked down at Allison as she was resting. All they had built together is crumbling down, their home, their kids, themselves. Simon sighed looking back at Price, he didn’t know how to respond to that, he wanted to agree but if he saw Graves in sight. He was a dead man.

[bangoose]

If the stars align (More freetime and less art block), I might make a human au focused mostly on King and Collecter adventures. Why these two? Because I can't write angst (writing anxiety?) regarding any of the main cast and this was my only way of avoiding it in these au types.

But I cant decide what to make Hooty. On one hand, weird uncle shenanigans. But on the other hand, yappy guard dog Hooty. Either way, they'll still eat bugs and be best friends with Lilith.