#I got up today and did two tiny bits of homework

[behaemoth]

It’s so funny being sick and waking up feeling comparatively better & thinking “omg…… I’m better now I can go back to normal….” And trying to do one thing and realizing comparatively better is still so much worse than normal

[luvmila444]

SWEET RELIEF - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.

content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink

word count: 2.8k

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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 

“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 

Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 

“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 

“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 

“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 

“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 

“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”

Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…

“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 

“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 

“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.

“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 

Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 

Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.

“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 

Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 

"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."

"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 

You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 

He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 

Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 

“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  

He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 

His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 

“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 

“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 

“Are you…okay?” 

Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.

“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  

“What are you doing?” 

Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 

“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.

“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 

“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”

Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 

“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.

“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.

“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 

“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 

“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.

Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.

“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.

Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”

“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.

The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.

“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.

“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 

Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 

Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” 

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 

“W—what?” 

“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 

“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 

“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 

“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 

“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”

Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 

Oh, you certainly would…

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A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk

ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)

[flickering-chandelier]

Snow on the Beach

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: As soon as Cassian and Reader run into each other, she feels the bond snap into place. But feeling unworthy next to the famed Cassian, she keeps it to herself, assuming that he would never find out the truth. Before long, she finds that she was very wrong.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: insecure reader

Word Count: 4k

While walking Nyx to school on an early autumn morning, Cassian was certainly glad that the Illyrian soldiers could keep themselves in line for a day or two, giving him a respite to come home to Velaris and spend time with his nephew. It seemed to him that the boy was growing up far too fast; he could hardly believe that he was already in school. 

“So kid,” Cassian said, gently steering Nyx away from the street with a hand on his back, “tell me about school. Have you made any friends?"

Little Nyx grinned. “Yeah!”

“I bet the other kids think it’s cool that your parents are the High Lord and Lady, huh?”

He nodded, “At first, they all thought it was really cool. I think they’re getting used to it now, though. Now everyone is talking about how Astrid’s mom opened that new restaurant by the rainbow.”

Cassian laughed, unable to resist ruffling Nyx’s hair. “Well, they do have good food.”

Nyx agreed, and Cassian took the tiny hand in his own once the boy started veering toward the street again. “Do you like your teacher?” 

“She’s really nice,” he said. “She barely even gives us any homework.”

“Now, that’s a good teacher,” Cassian agreed. 

Nyx chatted idly with Cassian until they got to school.

Cassian was surprised to see a beautiful young woman standing near the front door, greeting the kids as they filtered in through the building. 

You smiled at Nyx as he and Cassian approached. “Good morning, Nyx! Who did you bring with you today?”

“This is my uncle Cassian,” Nyx said proudly, before turning back to Cassian and informing him, “This is my teacher!”

Teachers did not look like that when I was in school, Cassian thought. 

“Hi,” Cassian smiled, extending his hand. You took it, your eyes widening slightly when your hand touched his. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said. Cassian thought you sounded a bit out of breath. “Are you picking Nyx up today?”

Cassian said, “I am,” and was suddenly very glad for it. 

You nodded, still looking somewhat dazed. “Okay, we’ll see you this afternoon then.”

Nyx said goodbye and bounded into the building, but Cassian couldn’t help but feel like something was off. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look… a little pale, maybe?"

“I’m fine,” you said hurriedly. “Thank you.”

Cassian nodded. “Okay. Good.” Cauldron, why was he flustered now? “This afternoon, then. Have a good day. Good luck with the little ones.”

You laughed, thanking him, before Cassian turned away. 

---

You could hardly breathe. And he had known it too, which made everything so much worse. 

The last thing you were expecting today was to meet your mate three minutes before school started. 

Cauldron. How could the Cassian be your mate?

You were fairly sure you recognized him as he was walking up, but didn’t want to assume. The High Lord and his inner circle were well known here, of course, but you had never met any of them besides Rhysand and Feyre, and that was only because Nyx was in your class.

Cassian was unlike any male you’d ever seen before. His biceps were the size of your head. He could snap you in half like it was nothing. And yet he was holding little Nyx’s hand in his, walking him to school. 

Gods.

You were nervous enough about having the High Lord’s son in your class, but then a member of his trusted inner circle shows up, touches your hand, and the bond snaps into place?

And just like that, the commander of the High Lord’s army, the one that they’ve written entire books about, was your mate. 

Yet, here you were, teaching arithmetic to a classroom full of tiny children.

It didn’t make sense. You had never heard of the Mother making mistakes before, but surely this was one. Why would someone that powerful have a schoolteacher for a mate?

Cassian didn’t seem to feel it when you had. Surely you would have noticed if it had snapped for him at the same time. 

So, he didn’t know. And you figured it was better to keep it that way. You would sound foolish, telling this war hero that you were his mate. 

And it wasn’t likely that you would see him again after today, anyway. 

You just had to get through the day, and pretend that everything was normal. 

By the time parents were back picking up their kids, you had managed to put Cassian out of your mind. 

That is, until he showed up again, his massive wings tucked in closely behind him, his shirt spread tightly across his chest and his arms. Your heart leaped as you watched him make his way to the door. 

Your mate. He was yours. Or at least the Mother thought he should be. 

He smiled brightly when he saw you, and you immediately felt a pull on that invisible string that tied you to him. 

It was an effort to steady your breathing when he finally stood in front of you. 

Before you could say anything, one of your students ran into your legs from behind at full speed, causing you to stagger forward, into Cassian. He steadied you, his strong hands holding your waist, as your own hands involuntarily came to rest on his broad chest. 

Cassian looked into your eyes for a moment, the side of his mouth tugging up into a smile. You got lost in him for a moment, in those hazel eyes that you felt you could see the world in. 

Thankfully, you finally remembered where you were, and turned around and narrowed your eyes at your student. “Jan, buddy, we’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, taking a step back. “I forgot.”

“I know you did, it’s okay,” you said, gently patting his back. “Why don’t you go play until your dad gets here, okay?” 

You turned back to Cassian as he happily scampered off. Cassian’s eyes were bright as he smiled at you. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

He laughed, gesturing around, to the dozens of squealing children. “This. Stay so calm, being in charge of all these kids while they’re yelling and knocking into you.”

You shrugged, unable to keep the smile off your face, being so close to him. “It’s not that bad. It’s nothing like what you do.”

Cassian smiled, glancing around at the chaos that surrounded you both. “Well, you might be surprised.” His gaze landed back on you and you felt it like a shock down to your toes. “If you ever want to help me out with the Ilyrians, let me know. You might be better at keeping them in line than I am.”

“I highly doubt that,” you laughed. “With kids, you just need to give them a snack and they’ll love you forever.”

He pursed his lips slightly, seemingly thinking this over. “I might have to try that.”

You laughed. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Promise,” he smirked. 

In that moment, you knew you could spend all day looking at him and never get bored. It scared you, that thought. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for him. There was no possible outcome that wouldn’t break your heart.

You cleared your throat, taking half a step back. “You’ll probably want to find Nyx.”

He nodded, as if he too had forgotten why he was actually there. 

As if on cue, Nyx bounded up, throwing his arms around Cassian’s legs. “Uncle Cassian!”

Cassian grinned down at him. “Hey, kid. Were you good for your teacher today?”

Nyx smiled shyly. “Yes.”

Cassian turned back to you, raising an eyebrow in question. 

You smiled, nodding. “He was.”

“Good,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s hair, before turning his attention back to you. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, though you doubted you would see him again. You tried not to dwell on that, on the fact that you had finally, finally found your mate, and you knew deep down that you could never have him. 

Cassian glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at you once more after he had left and your heart missed a beat. 

You desperately hoped that you would be able to go back to your real life, to forget about him.

---

Cassian couldn’t get you out of his mind after that day. The way you were looking at him… 

Maybe it was just that you recognized him. You certainly weren’t the only woman who had looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

So, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

It wasn’t just that though, he knew, as you danced around his mind once again. You were clearly incredibly kind and sweet. And you were funny. 

He found himself smiling as he thought about you, and schooled his features back into his stern, commanding expression as he focused his attention back onto the warriors training in front of him. 

But before long, he was thinking of you again, wondering what kind of snack would make the stubborn, bull headed Illyrians slightly less annoying to work with. 

He would just have to focus, he told himself, until he could see you again. 

Rhysand had given him a questioning look when he had asked to take Nyx to school again, but agreed. 

It had only been a few days, but he was already itching to see you again.

He wondered if it was possible that you felt the same way. 

---

Before school, you always took it upon yourself to usher idle children into the building, making sure they got where they needed to be while parents were busy dropping them off and making plans for pick up. 

When you caught a glimpse of massive, outstretched wings, you felt a shock spark through your entire body.

Again? He was really dropping Nyx off again? 

It had only been a few days since you had last seen him. Not nearly enough time to catch your breath, to force thoughts of him out of your mind. 

That tug in your chest, that string urging you closer to him, was relentless. 

You understood now, how people had been driven to madness after their mating bond had been rejected. It took everything you had in you to stay put, to keep yourself from running to him. 

His bright smile as he approached, his eyes locked on yours, made your heart hurt. 

“Hey,” he said, ushering Nyx into the building with a gentle nudge. 

“Hi,” you said quietly, noticing now that nearly everyone had already gone inside or left. You were alone with Cassian. 

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Was he… nervous?

“So,” he said, then laughed lightly, turning his face to the mountains surrounding the city, scratching the back of his neck.

“Cassian?” You asked, confused, and honestly, slightly impatient. You only had a few minutes to get to your class.

He leveled his gaze back to you again, his eyes twinkling in the sun. “Do you want to get dinner?” 

That had not been what you were expecting, and you felt like your breath was completely caught in your throat. 

Cassian seemed to take your surprise for something else because he started talking again, quickly, like he couldn't get it out fast enough, “Unless you don't want to. It's not a big deal, I was just thinking --”

“Yes,” you cut him off, and he looked relieved, his taut shoulders visibly relaxing.

“You're sure?”

You couldn't keep the smile off your face. “Very sure.”

His face lit up with a grin then, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning yourself. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, worried that if you didn't, you would launch yourself at him.

The two of you agreed on a time and a place, and then he was off, and you once again, had to go teach a classroom full of kids as if nothing remarkable had just happened.

By the time dinner with Cassian rolled around, you had convinced yourself that it was definitely not a date. Probably. 

Just… casual dinner between two people who barely knew each other. Acquaintances went out for dinner all the time, right? 

You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you waited outside the restaurant, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress that you had finally decided on, after trying on nearly every piece of clothing that you owned. 

It was a habit of yours to always arrive early, and yet, you only waited a few minutes before Cassian sauntered up to you, like he didn’t have a care in the world. For about the millionth time, you wondered how it was possible that the two of you had been chosen as mates. You couldn’t be more different. 

Cassian’s smile was bright when he was finally towering over you, greeting you with the usual pleasantries before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside. 

Your heart pounded in your chest at the contact. He hadn’t touched you since that first handshake, the touch that made the bond snap into place for you, like nothing you had ever felt before. 

You wondered if it would do the same for him someday. What would his reaction be if he knew?

Disappointed, surely. Confused. Upset?

It was one thing to ask someone to dinner, but to be mates? To be tethered to somebody for life? You suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out. 

Your mind was spinning by the time the two of you took your seats, and his brow furrowed in concern as his gaze settled on you. “Are you alright?”

You tried to brighten your expression, cursing your face for always being so easy to read. “Fine,” you said, and the smile became easier, more genuine, the longer that you looked at him. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, I guess. It’s hard to shut it off.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?” 

You winced. “Not really. It’s not that interesting, anyway,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “How are you?” you asked, before you could accidentally reveal something you would regret. 

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile, his gaze locked on you. “Why do you do that? Dismiss yourself so casually?”

“What do you mean?”

“You act like what you do isn’t important, or like your feelings don’t matter.” He leaned in closer, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him. “But it’s not true. You have one of the most important jobs… ever. And from what I can tell, you’re really good at it.” 

He relaxed his stance, leaning back in his chair again, his eyes never wavering from yours. “You don’t have to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. But, I won’t let you act like it doesn’t matter, because it does.”

Stunned, you opened your mouth, completely unable to form a response. How could he read you so clearly? And why did he care so much?

Finally, all you could say was, “You don’t even know me.”

Cassian’s smile grew slowly. “I know enough. And I’d like to know more.”

The look on his face, the gravel in his voice, the words that he spoke, made heat rush to your cheeks. His smile only widened. 

“What do you want to know?”

---

Cassian couldn’t wipe the grin off his face after that date with you. You had talked for ages, the two of you, and he didn’t think he had ever been so enamored by somebody. You told him all about your family, your friends, how you grew up, your favorite hideout in Velaris, when you just needed to get away from it all. And he had done the same, admittedly, showing off a little with stories from being in Rhysand's trusted inner circle. 

But you didn’t fawn over him like some women did. You sat and listened, your eyes widening at all the right times, but it was like you really saw him. Not the version of him that people talk about in battle, but just… Cassian. 

And he really liked that. 

For weeks, you had consumed his every waking thought and, frankly, several of his dreams. The way you blushed when he smiled at you, the slight tilt of your head when you watched him animatedly tell stories, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him… all of it was driving him completely mad. He saw you as much as he could in those weeks, and though you seemed reluctant to show it, he could tell that you were excited to see him, too. 

Winter was almost upon Velaris, and the air was crisp, but the sun was bright as Cassian sauntered up to the school, hoping that your afternoon was free and he could steal you away for lunch. 

The sun's rays were shining on you like a beacon and he couldn't help but stare as you crouched down to be face to face with a kid, your smile bright as you undoubtedly said something encouraging to him. 

In that moment, he felt like the ground was swaying beneath him as the bond snapped into place.

The bond that tethered you to him, that confirmed what he had been feeling all these weeks, that proved you were meant to be his. 

For a moment, he was ecstatic, but that moment ended quickly as he suddenly remembered that first time you met, the way your eyes widened in shock as he touched you for the first time… you knew. You had known this whole time and you hadn't told him.

Did you not want to be his mate? Did you think it was a bad match? If that were the case, why on earth had you been spending so much time with him?

He stood frozen in place until the crowd of parents and kids had mostly cleared, his thoughts whirling.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed Cassian, but your face fell when you noticed his expression.

He could tell that you figured it out. That he knew. And that he knew you knew.

His heart broke as your eyes flooded with panic, and you turned from him, hurrying away without another glance.

Cassian followed, half debating flying above the city so he could see easier where you were going.

But before long, he knew your destination anyway.

You had told him weeks ago about the beach that you often went to when you needed to clear your head.

When he approached, you were sitting facing the river, your arms wrapped around yourself. The rocks beneath his boots cracked together and alerted you immediately to his presence, but you didn't turn around. 

He sat next to you, wincing a bit as a rock dug into his thigh, careful to tuck his wings in so they wouldn't brush against you.

Your eyes remained on the water for a few moments, a storm inside them. 

Finally, Cassian said, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Thinking, you bit your lip, and despite everything, it made his heart swell. 

“I didn't think you would want to know,” you said, your voice small.

It took an effort not to physically reel back like you had slapped him. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Why not?"

You let out a humorless laugh, still not so much as glancing in his direction. “Why do you think?”

Cassian furrowed his brow, wracking his brain for any indication he may have accidentally given you that would make you think he wouldn't want to be your mate, but he came up with nothing. “I don't know,” he finally said. “Did I do something?”

Your eyes finally met his then, and he felt the urge to cry for the first time in centuries. You looked so defeated, so pained. What had he done to make you react this way?

“No, it's not that, it's…” you bit your lip, your brow furrowed as you held his gaze. “Cassian, you're a warrior. You're in charge of armies, you're one of the most powerful Illyrians of all time, you've literally made history. And I'm…” you gestured to yourself, “I'm nothing compared to you.” You shook your head, facing the water again. “I hid it from you because it doesn't make sense. It must be a mistake.”

Cassian's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of it. “How could you think it's a mistake?” He said, his voice wavering, but he pushed past it. “How could you think that way about yourself?”

His heart broke when he heard you sniffle, still avoiding his gaze.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers and urged you to look at him. “It's not a mistake,” he said quietly. “I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment I saw you. Do you know why?”

Your bottom lip trembled and you shook your head as much as you could while he was still holding your chin.

“You're incredible. You're endlessly kind and patient. You dedicate your life to helping kids and teaching them how to be who they're meant to be. There wouldn't be armies to lead or healers to fix us after battle, or anything else, if we didn't have teachers leading us along the way.”

Your eyes softened then, and Cassian nearly sighed with relief but he kept pushing, to be sure you would believe what he was telling you. “And gods, you're beautiful,” he smiled, stroking his thumb across your bottom lip. “You drive me crazy.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat and his heart leaped. He shifted his hands so they were cupping your face. “We're meant to be together, you and me. It's not a mistake. And I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”

You nodded, smiling, looking up at Cassian with stars in your eyes. “I just can't believe you want me.”

“Well, believe it, because it's true,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.”

He felt your breath hitch, and just then it started to snow lightly, the small flakes sticking to your eyelashes and in your hair.

“I want you too, Cassian,” you said quietly before cupping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer, bringing your lips to his.

Cassian couldn't stop his groan as he pulled you closer, kissing you the way he'd been wanting to for weeks.

When you finally parted to catch your breath, he pulled you to his side, and you rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked out across the water, the snow still gently drifting down.

It didn't feel real, that he had finally found his mate, the one he was meant to be with. And it was you, who had been consuming his thoughts since the moment you met.

He felt so, so unbelievably lucky and he prayed that you felt the same way about him.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11

[jjsloverre]

bsf!jj asking you to be his girlfriend!

in which… jj takes sweetheart out to an arcade to ask her to be his girlfriend!

contains… cursing, ultimate fluff, and a TINY bit of smut, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), handjob & that’s it i hope! (not proofread)

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today was the day. today was the day jj would finally ask you to be his girlfriend. after waiting for years to do it, today he wouldn’t chicken out, you both would finally be happy.

“baby! hurry up we got 20 minutes!” jj yelled from downstairs. “i’m coming love!” you hurried downstairs. “holy fuck you look like a goddess.” jj murmured, kissing you while you walked out the house.

the drive to the arcade was bliss. you and jj were rambling about school, homework, work, anything that came to mind? oh yeah you talked about it. “so jayj?” you started. he looked at you for a second. “what’s up baby?” you took his free hand and fiddled with it, finally intertwining your hands together. “i’m happy to be with you, like a lot. i couldn’t ask for anything more and i already love this date bunches.”

jj looked at you with pure love and adoration. “y’know i adore you? everything about you just, makes me wanna protect you from the world. keep you in your tiny little love bubble you always got goin on, it’s just so sweet and precious.” your heart soared at his loving words. while the red light was active, you leaped into jj’s arms for a few kisses and sat back down. “i love you so much jayj.”

“i love you more sweetheart.”

jj took your hand into the arcade, buying the tokens and the gaming card for you both to play. “alright mama, what’s first?” he asked, while paying. “definitely basketball, you’re getting your ass kicked!” you say excitingly. “love your confidence baby.” he smirked, and took you to an available basketball hoop. “jayj this is gonna be so fun!!” you exclaimed, already swiping your card. “how much money did you put on here again?”

“don’t get mad but like there’s a good 500 points on there or some shit.”

“jj! that’s almost 200 dollars!” you screamed. you hated when jj blew almost a full check on you. “baby, it’s alright it’s worth it.” you sighed, he would continue to fight about it and you knew that. “okay fine, but next date is on me.”

“ok baby, whatever you’d like.” as you both played basketball and a ton of other games, you finally took a break for food. “baby!” you squeal. “can we pleaseeeee share a funnel cake?”

jj smiled and nodded. “yes ma’am we can. here, take my card and go buy it. i’ll get us a table and get whatever drinks you want ok?” you nod, and take his card. “do you want any specific drink?” jj shook his head. “get me anything you wanna get me, whatever you want sweetheart.”

“okay!” you walk to concession stand and order your food and drinks. you walk back a few minutes later and hand him his favorite drink. “there you go my baby!” jj’s heart swelled with love as you spoke and sat his drink down. “thank you beautiful.” even though pda wasn’t typically allowed, jj sat you in his lap and fed you some of your shared funnel cake. “taste good?” you nod. “wonderful.”

“how many more games do you wanna play baby?” he asked.

“ou ou! can we do one of those car games and we should do the go kart racing! and after that laser tags and then-” he cut you off immediately. “alright baby let’s just go and you can lead me to anything you want to do next.” you squealed in excitement. “let’s go!”

after another two hours, jj took you home and you both shared a shower. “finally! i’m so happy to be home i’m tired.” you yelled. “not done yet baby, i’m takin you out to dinner.”

“haha funny joke jj, you’ve spent enough money.”

“not a joke. i rented the whole restaurant just for us so we’re doing this.” you rolled your eyes. “fine jayj.” you and jj’s lips connected in the shower, sharing a passionate kiss. “mm love you.” he mumbled into the kiss. “love you more sweetie.” i reach down to stroke your hardening cock. “do y’like that baby?”

“i love it ma. cmon keep goin.” jj broke the kiss and buried his face into your neck, letting out needy whimpers. “my baby, you’re being such a good boy for me.” jj lets out another whimper, grabbing onto your plump ass. “fuck baby.. i can’t- i won’t last much longer.” you sped up your movements, cupping his heavy balls and squeezing just right. “f-fuck baby shit!” jj moaned into your neck, erratically thrusting into your fist.

with one more squeeze to his balls, jj came undone. in a swift movement, jj slipped his throbbing cock into your wet folds, his tip kissing your entrance. he pushed forward. “fuck baby i’m so sorry i need this..” you nodded happily and squeezed jj’s throbbing cock in more and more until he came, hard. he held you close while he emptied his load inside of your greedy cunt. “that’s a good boy.” cmon, we gonna get ready!”

“ma! i want you to cum though!” suddenly, jj felt your walls clamp down hard on his cock, realizing you did in fact cum. he moaned loudly and came one more time, giving you one more greedy load. “fuck baby, best sex i’ve had.”

“take it you liked it?”

“fuck yeah i did. now get ready for me, wear that red dress in your closet.”

you nod, putting the dress on after you get out of the shower. once you stepped out, jj looked at you in awe. “fuck yes baby! you look amazing! come on! i have so much shit planned for us.”

as you arrived at the restaurant, you immediately cling onto jj. “hey sweet girl, you’re alright.” he coaxed. he started to lead you to your seats and you both ordered. “pops is out of town again, so i can have you over and cuddle you.”

“exactly what i needed jayj.”

you and jj talked about random things for an hour, eating your food and happy overall, until he dropped a bombshell.

“so sweetheart.” he started. you turned your attention to him, letting him caress your thighs. “i didn’t think there was any better way to do this. i want you to be my girlfriend baby. the real deal, not this ‘friends with benefits’ shit. i need you, i need you like i need to breathe air or whatever they say. i just know… i just know that i’m in love with you and you’re where i belong, so will you make me the happiest man on this earth and allow me to be your boyfriend?” to your surprise he pulled out a small diamond ring. “now this, cost me my whole paycheck and more but it was overall worth it. and i think nobody deserves happiness more than you do.”

you cried pure happy tears. you threw yourself in his arms and cried. “i would love that! i want you to be mine!” jj captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. he poured his love and devotion into the kiss. “i love you so much.” jj muttered. “and i love you more maybank. always and forever.” with that, you leaned into the kiss more, celebrating your new love with the man you always dreamed of.

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taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen @sophand4n4 @kieeslove @chalahyung01 @bee-43 @superlegend216 @masongetinmybed @eddxemxnson @always-reading @maybankslover @leaseyes @glitterybombshell @slut4rafecameronn @sttaejoon-blog @imsiriuslyreal @coalicionees

a/n: lmk if you guys want a fic of them getting married (like a time skip 3 years later & they get married & have a child) but yeah lmk if you want that in a few days!

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here!

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[roseareeh]

Teenage Dirtbag Part 1 | Steve Harrington x Teen Mom! Reader (x Billy Hargrove)

Notes: I love drama atm, I hope you enjoy :) (Pls don't let this flop)

Warnings: Teenage Pregnancy, big hint as a sex scene, swearing, alcohol, smoking

Words: 4.2k

You hated yourself for this stupid crush. Finally, you had everything together between school, your child and your family life, and then this dumb crush came along. It wouldn't even be that bad if it wasn't on the Steve Harrington, the infamous King Steve who's hardcore-crushing on Nancy Wheeler. While you were happy enough that he even took you into his friend group, considered you were a 16 year old teen mom to a 3-year old, you truly didn't need to see him pin over her whenever she was around. Despite them not being an official couple anymore, he wouldn't stop looking after her like a feral dog.

"You don't happen to be free for that project tonight, do you?", Steve asked while walking next to you. You bit your lip while thinking if you could make it work while fishing your car keys out of your bag. "Maybe. My dad's at work, so he can't look after Prissy.", you told him. "I don't know if a two-year old around is the best homework environment." But Steve just shrugged. "I don't mind her around. Besides, I've been annoying you about meeting her for a while now." After unlocking your car door, you threw your school bag in the passenger seat. "Right. Well, if you come at 7:30 she'll be in bed and we have time to do our assignment. But she'll wake up in between at some point." He nodded at your words. "Alright, I'll see you then."

You drove straight home, where your daughter was already waiting at the door. "Hi, mommy!", she squealed as she jumped into your arms. "Hi, baby.", you replied before giving her a kiss on her cheek. "Did you have fun with paw-paw today?" She nodded her head while you carried her inside. "We were in garden, and we picked our tomatoes, and cucumbers, and carrots." Your father greeted you in the hallway with a kiss on your cheek. "We put them in the kitchen, you can use them for dinner later.", he told you. "How was school?" Prissy wiggled from your arms and ran off to the living room. "Good. We got a group project assigned today, so my partner is coming over when Prissy is in bed." Your father looked a bit concerned. "And they know about Prissy?"

"He's my friend, dad, they all know about Prissy. It's not like I could keep her a secret anyways, I'm out with her all the time." He simply smiled at your words and squeezed your shoulder. "I'm just worried, is all." He walked over to the fridge to grab his dinner for work. "Alright, I'm off. See you tomorrow, don't stay up to late." He kissed your cheek once again before walking into the living room to say goodbye to Prissy. "Bye pumpkin, don't cause too much trouble." Your daughter told him goodbye, you heard the door shut and then the tiny footsteps of Prissy running into the kitchen. "Mommy, can we play teaparty?"

You spend a good hour playing teaparty, princess castle and then house before it was time to make dinner. "What do you want, baby?", you asked your daughter while looking through the fridge. "I can make you veggie sticks from the cucumbers and carrots you picked with Paw-Paw. And some tomato soup, maybe?"

"I love tomato soup!", she exclaimed before trying to pull up a chair for her to stand on. For some odd reason, you got a child who loved fruits and veggies. Not that you'd complain, but it wasn't what you heard from other moms. You helped her to get the chair so she could watch you cook.

After dinner, you got your daughter ready for bed. Not only was she a veggie-lover, but also fell asleep quickly. Despite the unfortunate circumstances of her conception, she made it easy for you. At 7:30, she was already fast asleep when you saw Steve pull into your driveway. "Hey.", you said as you opened the door for him. "She's sleeping, so we can't be too loud. But I have some leftovers from dinner if you're hungry." Both of you went into the living room to do the assignments with some veggie sticks and cans of coke.

"God, I hate history.", Steve said as he sat down on your couch. You plopped down next to him while chuckling. "It's not that bad. I mean, the only thing you really have to do is memorise it."

"I know, that's what makes it so awful." Both of you laughed before opening your history books. "At least we can pick one, that's nice.", you mumbled while skipping through the pages. He did the same, but neither of you found a good topic this quickly. "Well, my dad has some books on saints. Maybe that would be an option. How about Joan D'Arc?", you said after a while. "Who's Joan D'Arc?", he asked with a confused look. His question was met with a questioning look. "She was a martyr and is the patron saint of France. Do you actually don't know who she is?"

"Why would I know about a french martyr?"

"Everyone knows Jean D'Arc, Steve."

"I don't."

You rolled your eyes before getting up and grabbing the books from the shelf in the living room. "Sometimes, I can't believe that you're real." You opened the first book from your father extensive collection to give him a quick rundown. He leaned in closer to you so he could properly read, but it made your heart beat faster. Why did you have to have this stupid crush? And why did he have to smell so good, too?

"I think I can work with that.", he finally said. You grabbed a pen and your notebook to start writing. Two hours into mostly working, with some occasional off-rail gossip, you heard tiny footsteps upstairs. "Mommy?", Prissy said from the top of the stairs. Before you could get up, she caught a glimpse of Steve and ran downstairs. "Who are you?", she asked him while crawling on your lap. Your crush looked at you, then back at Prissy before speaking up. "I'm Steve.", he replied awkwardly. "He's my friend from school.", you added. Your daughter crawled off your lap and closer to Steve. "Boyfriend from school?"

"No, just my friend.", you corrected, despite it pulling at your heartstrings in a bad way. "Baby, we're doing homework so I'll bring you back to bed. Say bye-bye to Steve." She waved at him before walking back upstairs with you. Luckily, it took barely 20 minutes before she was fast asleep again.

"She looks just like you.", Steve said as you sat back down. You smiled at his comment. "Thanks. She got the hair colour from her father, but everything else is my carbon copy." The next question was one you have heard many times before. Honestly, you were really annoyed by it at this point, so you just took it away. "Her father's not in the picture. He robbed a gas station and is in jail, so I have full custody. In case you wondered." Steve looked into your eyes with a concerned look, but he had to admit that he did wonder that. "I'm sorry. That's...unfortunate.", he replied. You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back with a can of coke in your hand. "She's surprisingly easy. Unless I don't feel well, then she just copies my feelings like some kind of mindreader." He laughed a bit and leaned back at well. This felt oddly natural to you, and although you didn't know he had the same feeling. "You know, I always wanted kids. Like, six little Harringtons." You laughed at that statement, until you realised that he was 100% serious. "I didn't think I'd ever meet someone as crazy as me.", you admitted. Prissy was a dream child, and the sole reason why you wanted many more kids. "Really?", Steve asked, a bit surprised. Nobody, not even Nancy, wanted so many kids. "Yeah, I mean, Prissy is honestly a poster child. Six, seven, I'll even take eight." Now Steve was the one laughing a bit. "You're actually insane, (Y/N).", he said while leaning foward to take his can of coke. "Oh, by the way, if you don't have any plans for Halloween with Prissy yet, do you maybe wanna go to a party with me?" He said it so casually that his wording confused you. Why with him, not with us? "Aren't you going with Nancy?", you asked, even though you really didn't want to hear anything about Nancy. "It's...I'm trying, but some stuff happened." You sighted at his words, partially because they weren't what you were hoping to hear. "So you'd rather go with a friend?" This time, he sighted. "A friend, a date, who really knows." Your cheeks went red at his comment. Was he really asking you out? "I'll, uh, I'll ask my dad and tell you tomorrow."

He went home soon after. The assignment was off the table at that point anyways, and your head was too full of Steve basically asking you out. You went to sleep, woke up the next morning with your daughter in bed (who always snuck in during the night) and got ready for school. "Prissy, do you want me to do your hair before I go?", you asked her while she was occupied with her stuffed dolphin. She quickly ran into the bathroom where you were putting on a bit of makeup. "Pigtails!", she said while getting on her stepstool. While you were doing her hair, your father walked into the bathroom with his grouchy morning face. "Mornin'", he mumbled while getting his toothbrush. "Good morning.", you greeted him while finishing the first pigtail. "Can I already ask you a question or are you too sleepy?" Prissy giggled at your question a bit, mostly because she knew her Paw-Paw well enough to know that it was a valid question. "If you make me a coffee. What's the question?"

"Since we always only hand out candy on Halloween, could I maybe go out with my friends so you and Prissy can have some Paw-Paw time?" Your wording was chosen carefully to not upset Prissy too much. She'd follow you anywhere if she could, even school, but she also enjoyed spending time with her grandpa. And your father understood your wording. He also understood that you were a teenager who deserved to go out once in a while. "That can be arranged, as long as you're home before I go to work the next day." A wide grin spread across your face once he agreed. "Thank you, dad.", you said while finishing Prissys hair.

You told Steve the very same day, and you were extra giddy once you got ready for the party. Since you got pregnant so young, there has never been a party you could've attended. Sure, you met up with friends once in a while, but it was never for the whole night and surely not with alcohol or smoking. Plus, your crush insinuated that it would be a date. For once you could be a dumb teenager, even if it was just for the night. Still, you chose a very simple costume; a pink dress that ended just above your knees and a tiara. "Mommy, you so pretty!", your daughter said as she spotted you doing your makeup in the bathroom. She's been running around the house all day in Cinderella costume ever since you helped her get dressed after school. "Thank you, baby.", you said with a smile before finishing your lipstick. "Does the princess wanna put the tiara on mommy's head?" With a toothy grin, Prissy took the hair accessory from your hands to put it on you.

"Pretty!", she said once again. With a smile, you gave her a kiss on the cheek and left a lipstick print. "Come here, princess, you gotta look at your face." You picked her up and had her stand on the bathroom counter. "See, mommys lip print is on your cheek." Prissy giggled when she saw her face and turned around to hug you. "Love you, mommy.", she said while burying her fave into your neck. "I love you, too, Prissy.", you said while carrying her out of the bathroom. She remained cuddled up to you, taking in every second of cuddling she could get while you walked downstairs to your father. A wide grin formed on his face as he saw the two of you. "Look at that, both my girls are beautiful princesses.", he said before looking for his camera. Prissy giggled in your arms, now looking up after getting in her cuddles, and laughed even more when she saw her Paw-Paw look for a camera. "I think he wants to take a picture of us, baby.", you told her with a small smile. Ever since she was born, you kept multiple photo albums of her and this one would definetly go in it.

Your father did take a picture, or multiple, of the two of you before getting you and Prissy in his car to drive you to the party. He knew that it would be a house party with alcohol, smoking and teenagers making out but he actually didn't mind. Considering you had a child at 14, he thought you could be stupid for one night. As long as you don't come home pregnant again, which you had do solemnly promise, he didn't mind. "Have fun, sweetheart.", he told you while you got out of the car. "Bye dad.", you replied with a grin, then opened the back door to say goodbye to your daughter. "Bye Prissy, I'll see you tomorrow." You kissed her face multiple times while she giggled. "I love you, baby." You finished with those words before closing the car door and waving after them while walking up the driveway backwards.

It was a bit overwhelming. You weren't an out-of-controll teenager who got pregnant at a party, this was your very first one. Many people from your grade were there, greeting you with surprised tones, as you made your way inside. Just mere seconds after, you wish you didn't. Steve was standing in a corner with Nancy right next to him. Chatting. Laughing. Looking like a couple. But he didn't see you yet, and confrontation did seem hard right now. Ot felt like a knife was stabbed into your heart, and tears build up. How could be basically ask you out on a date and then bring Nancy? And even if they didn't come together, why would he stand so close to her? Your heart was being ripped open and thrown away. Jesus, how could you be so stupid and get your hopes up?

So you made a beeline to the kitchen, where a bowl of punch stood. Judging by everyone around, it must've been spiked. And you didn't care. From stories, drinking made you forget issues so you took the possibility.

"My, my, I think I spotted a little princess.", someone behind you said. As you turned, you spotted the new kid you passed in the hall once or twice. He checked you out from head to toe with a smirk playing on his lips. "And who am I spotting?", you asked with a sly smile. He took your hand and gave it a small kiss. "Billy. Billy Hargrove.", he replied. Billy smelled like cigarettes and beer, which was oddly attractive to you. Also, he was clearly tipsy already. "You here by yourself, princess?" You nodded your head at his question before taking another big sip of the punch. As a response, he put his arm around your shoulders and walked with you. "Come on, if I don't take you with me someone else will." Steve was becoming a memory as Billy walked you outside to the keg stand. "What's your name?", he asked you as he pulled you closer to his body while getting out a pack of cigarettes with his free hand. "(Y/N).", you responded with a grin. He lit his cigarette, blew out the smoke and took it between his fingers. "Beautiful name.", Billy said before offering you his lit cigarette. Why not? You took a long drag but started coughing while blowing out the smoke. He laughed at your antics and took it back. "Never smoked before?" You shook your head at his question while still coughing. Someone handed you a beer to wash it down, and it did actually help. "What's a princess like you doing here by herself anyways?", Billy asked you while you watched someone miserably fail at the keg stand. "Someone's asked me out on a date, but now he's here with his ex.", you responded. He raised an eyebrow and looked deeply offended. "Well, he's an asshole. You're mine now." You blushed at his words, but you really didn't mind his proclamation. Although it was a drunken one. It felt good, no matter the circumstances. Again, someone failed the keg stand as you watched. "I wanna try it.", you proclaimed loudly. Two cups of spiked punch and a bit of beer was already getting to your head, most likely because you never drank before. "Alright princess, let me help you up.", he said while getting another guy to help you stand upright. You giggled before someone put the nozzle between your lips. As much as Billy wanted to focus on you chugging, he couldn't help but look at your ass that was fully presented due to your skirt not being able to hide anything anymore. Plus, you felt your tiara slip from your head as soon as you did the handstand. "One, two, three.", people around you started counting loudly as you kept chugging. Ten was the goal in your head, which wouldn't be bad for your first. "Four, Five, Six.", the others continued. While beer wasn't your thing as you realised, it felt good to have no worries for one night. And this was more fun than you've expected. "Seven, eight, nine." You felt your arms get wobbly, which caused you to get down at 11. People around you cheered, Billy put his arm back around you and took a drag from someone elses cigarette before announcing that he'd go for it as well. "This one's for you, princess.", he said while putting the tiara back on your head. You don't know why he chose to dote over you right now, but it's not like you minded. Most likely, he was trying to get lucky at the end of the night. Which you wouldn't mind, either.

Billy lasted until 22 before he got down. "Billy's our new keg king!", someone screamed while others started chanting his name. "C'mere.", he said while putting his arm around your shoulders again and taking you with him. Someone handed him a lit cigarette again, while a girl gave you a red cup that smelled like hard liquor. Billy walked through the house with you, following two guys who kept yelling that they had a new keg king. You were stupidly grinning until both of you were dragged to Steve and Nancy. "We've got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington.", one of the guys yelled. Steve took off his sunglasses to take a look at Billy, before looking over at you with a confused expression. Meanwhile, Nancy walked off into the kitchen. "What are you doing here?", he asked you while noticing Billy's arm around you. It pulled on his heartstrings a bit. "You asked me to come here, as a date.", you reminded him. "But since you'd rather take fancy Nancy, I found someone else." The grin on your face could be described as nothing but shiteating cheeky. "I didn't think you'd come.", he admitted. Billy laughed at that. "Good thing you ditched here, she's mine now.", he said before walking off with you.

Billy stayed with you for the entire party. At some point, both of you were making out outside. Right now, the sting of Steve standing you up was completely gone and for once you felt like you were actually just a 17-year old teenager. "Come on, let's take this party somewhere else.", he said before dragging you to the bathroom. Just as you rounded the corner, Steve came out with a big slam of the door. Both of you rushed by him and went in the bathroom, where you found Nancy. "Get out.", you said to her. She looked over at you, clearly just as drunk as you were, with a death stare. "You're not scary, Nancy. Get the fuck out." After she still didn't move, you grabbed her by the arm and pushed her outside the bathroom before locking the door. "You've got some fire in you.", Billy said before picking you up and setting you down on the dirty bathroom counter. Both of you kept making out with no regards of anyone knocking at the door. Before you knew it, your dress was off. When he went down to get between your legs, Billy noticed the c-section scar running across your lower abdomen. He looked up at you, but you took the question from Billy's mouth. "I had a c-section at 14.", you slurred. You expected many reactions from him, mostly him leaving you in the bathroom, but he just smirked and said: "I always wanted to fuck a mom."

You don't remember how you made it home. But you woke up in your own bed in the morning, not with Prissy next to you, with a pounding headache. As soon as you moved just a bit, you were already running to the bathroom to throw up. Why do people enjoy drinking if this is the outcome? "Hungover?", your dad teased while leaning against the doorframe. "It's gonna be fine. I'll make you fatty food and get you some aspirin." He handed you some toilet paper to whipe your mouth with, which you gladly took. "Where's Prissy?", you asked once you flushed the toilet. "I let her stay up a bit longer than usual, so she's still asleep." You nodded before he left to go downstairs. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed all of the hickeys on your neck. "Fucking hell.", you mumbled before getting back into your room. Grey sweatpants and a turtleneck sweater seemed like the best option right now. Soon enough, you smelled bacon and walked downstairs. "Did you have fun, at least?", you dad asked while you sat down on the kitchen island. He handed you a glass with some asprin in it. "It was good. I met a new student from my grade, he moved here from California." Your dad looked up from the pan. "Billy? Yeah, he brought you here last night. Seems like a nice kid." Well, that mystery was solved at least. "Yeah, he's cool."

Your father made you bacon, eggs and oatmeal with some orange juice. While he set some aside for Prissy, you ate it up like you haven't eaten in weeks. "Glad you had fun, sweetheart. But you gotta recover until 3, I still have work." You nodded your head at his words. "Is it morally wrong to have a lazy day with your child? I don't think I can go to the playground today." He laughed a bit at your question. "I doubt it. Maybe go in the garden at some point, though." A smile played on your lips at his words. "I can manage that." He turned to leave the kitchen, but not without saying: "And make up a good excuse for Prissy when she sees those hickeys."

It was four and you laid on the couch with Prissy in your arms, watching the Cinderella movie. She was her favourite princess and picked the movie all by herself. You had put some cut up fruit and juice on the table for the two of you to snack on. While Cinderella was trying on the glass shoe, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it, baby.", you said while getting off the couch and slouched to the door. It greatly displeased you once you opened it, because Steve was standing on the other side.

"What?", you asked in an annoyed tone. He was honestly the last person you wanted to see. "(Y/N), I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, or at least cancelled.", he said with a look of desperation. You scoffed at his half-assed apology. "I'm not going to tell you what I actually think, Steve, because my child is in the next room.", you started. "But you can go fuck yourself. If Nancy broke up with you, because I did see her leave with Jonathan, that doesn't mean you get to jump to the next best girl." He ran a hand through his hair and sighted. "It's not like that, (Y/N), please. I...I do like you." His sudden confession didn't make you as happy as it should've. Sure, you still liked him because otherwise it wouldn't hurt so much but you were too angry at him. "I don't care, Steve. You didn't care about my feelings either."

"Mommy, they gonna kiss!", you toddler shouted from the living room. "Have a good day, Steve.", you said before shutting the door. "What, they're gonna kiss?", you said with a false grin while walking into the living room. "There's no way that they're gonna kiss!" You started tickling her stomach and kissing her face while she laughed underneath you.

After all, that she loved you was all that mattered in the end.

[missmaymay13]

everything after the whistle pt.2 - m.boldy

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

dad!m.boldy x fem!oc | pt 1

summary: a bunch of blurbs of matt as a dad and navigating fatherhood for the first time. pt 2!!!

masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Presley was barely two years old when Matt brought her to morning skate.

It wasn't the first time—she'd been to a handful of practices before, usually strapped to Alea's hip, giggling at the sound of blades on ice or waving her chubby little hand at Matt from the stands. But today was different.

Today, she was walking. Talking. Fully mobile.

And dangerous.

Matt strolled into the Wild practice facility with Presley perched on his hip, her little pigtails bouncing and her tiny Wild jersey riding up over her pink leggings. She had a firm grip on her juice box and was holding court like she owned the place.

The second they entered the locker room, the chirping began.

"Let's gooo, Boldy!" Brock called. "Did you finally bring the boss in?"

"Presley, blink twice if your dad made you eat kale this morning," Marcus Foligno added.

Presley blinked once.

Then giggled.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Okay, chill. She's just here to hang for a bit before Alea picks her up."

He set her down, and immediately, she toddled over to Kirill, who handed her a stick almost twice her height. She accepted it like a royal scepter and proceeded to bonk his shin pads gently.

"She's got a better slap shot than you already," Kirill told Matt with a grin.

"Wow. So much respect in this room."

Presley toddled back over and plopped down dramatically at Matt's feet. "Daddy sings me the shark song."

The room quieted for exactly one second.

Brock's eyes lit up. "Wait. What shark song?"

Matt froze. "Pres—baby, no, we don't have to—"

She stood up, puffed out her chest, and belted: "Baby shark doo doo! Baby shark, baby shark!"

The locker room erupted.

"OH MY GOD," one of the rookies wheezed. "THE BABY SHARK SONG?!" "HE SINGS TO HER?!" "IN THAT VOICE?!" "THIS IS GOLD."

Matt's ears went red as he scooped Presley up, who was now grinning like she'd just scored in Game 7.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. We're leaving."

"Don't be shy, Boldy!" Foligno yelled after him. "Give us the bridge!"

Matt pointed at him on the way out. "You're all dead to me."

Presley waved over his shoulder. "Byeeee! Daddy's my teddy bear!"

Matt groaned.

Kirill clapped. "Legend."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Presley had been quiet lately.

Not in a "something's wrong" kind of way—just... thoughtful. Like her little mind was trying to untangle something big. Matt had chalked it up to growing up, more homework, maybe even just needing a break after her latest hockey clinic.

But Alea knew that look.

It was the same look she got when she was nervous. When something big was sitting on her chest but she didn't quite know how to say it.

One afternoon, Alea found her out back on the porch steps, tying and retying the laces on her sneakers. The sun was setting, painting the sky gold and pink, and Presley had her knees tucked to her chest, her ponytail hanging low like her mood.

Alea sat down beside her.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Presley shrugged, still pulling at the fraying laces. "Nothing."

Alea waited.

Presley sighed. "I don't wanna play hockey anymore."

Alea blinked, caught off guard—not because she cared, but because of the way Presley said it, like she expected the world to stop spinning.

"Oh?" Alea said gently.

"I like soccer more," Presley mumbled, barely audible. "But I don't wanna make Daddy sad."

And there it was.

The weight.

Alea's heart cracked a little.

She reached over, tucking a stray curl behind Presley's ear. "Pres, your daddy loves you. Not because you play hockey, or because you're good at something he's good at. He loves you because you're you."

Presley frowned. "But he always gets so happy when I go to practice."

"He's happy because you were happy," Alea said softly. "That's what he cares about. Not what sport you play."

Presley looked up at her with wide, worried eyes. "What if he's disappointed?"

Alea smiled. "I promise you, baby—he's gonna be proud of you no matter what. He's gonna cheer louder than anyone at your first soccer game, and probably cry like a big baby when you score your first goal."

Presley let out a small giggle.

"You wanna tell him together?" Alea asked.

Presley nodded.

⸻

Matt was in the living room, folding tiny laundry with the kind of chaos only a dad left in charge of socks could create. When the girls came in, he looked up and immediately noticed Presley clinging to Alea's side like a shadow.

"What's up, P?" he asked, setting down a pair of Wyatt's Spider-Man socks.

Presley climbed into his lap and looked up at him, her voice small.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I don't think I wanna play hockey anymore."

Matt blinked. "Okay..."

"I like soccer more. And I wanna try playing for real. On a team."

She waited for the disappointment. For the look she'd feared all week.

But instead, Matt just smiled.

"You know what I think?" he asked.

Presley shook her head.

"I think you're gonna rock those cleats," he said, pulling her into a hug. "And I also think I'm gonna need to learn the rules of soccer, 'cause I plan on yelling really loudly from the sidelines."

Presley's eyes lit up, and Alea caught the exact moment her daughter's fear melted away.

"Really?" she whispered.

Matt kissed her forehead. "Really. You don't have to be me, Presley. You just have to be you. And honestly? You're my favorite person on this planet."

Presley hugged him tight, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I'm still gonna teach Maryn how to skate, though," Matt added with a wink at Alea. "Can't have three soccer stars in the house. I gotta win something."

Alea laughed, and Presley giggled again—lighter this time, freer.

Because in this house, it was never about the ice.

It was always about love.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Wyatt was thriving on the ice.

Out of the three Boldy kids, he was the quietest, the gentlest, the one who took the longest to warm up to new people. But when he laced up his skates? It was like something flipped. He had a natural glide, a sharp eye, and a wrist shot that made other parents at the rink lean forward in their seats.

At seven years old, he was already getting looks from coaches.

Matt was beaming.

Alea was proud.

Unfortunately... neither of them had mastered the art of being chill hockey parents.

"LET'S GOOOO, BUDDY!" Matt shouted from the bleachers during drills, practically jumping up and down.

"That's my BABY!" Alea hollered seconds later, recording every movement on her phone like she was filming a docuseries.

Other parents smiled politely. Some leaned away.

Presley sunk lower into her hoodie. Maryn was climbing the bleachers with goldfish crumbs all over her sweater.

And Wyatt?

Wyatt just kept skating... but every so often, he'd peek toward the stands and cringe just a little.

⸻

After Practice

The kids were filtering out of the locker room, chattering about their drills and popsicles waiting in coolers. Wyatt walked over slowly, stick in one hand, helmet tucked under his arm.

He stopped in front of his parents, cheeks pink—not from skating.

"Mommy... Daddy..."

They both smiled down at him like proud golden retrievers.

"You were amazing out there," Matt said, giving him a fist bump. "That toe drag? Sick."

Alea beamed. "I got it all on video. I might've cried a little. You looked so grown out there."

Wyatt shuffled his skates against the concrete, eyes down.

"You're embarrassing me," he mumbled.

Matt and Alea froze.

"What?" they said in perfect unison.

Wyatt looked up with wide, soft eyes—just like Matt's—biting his bottom lip. "You're really loud... like, really really loud."

Alea covered her mouth. Matt blinked, stunned. "Buddy, we were just cheering!"

"I know," Wyatt said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But like... you don't have to cheer every time I touch the puck. Or yell my name. Or scream, 'THAT'S MY SON!' when I score."

Alea snorted, trying not to laugh. "Okay, that's fair."

Matt looked devastated. "But... I brought a cowbell..."

Wyatt gave him a look.

A soft, tiny 'please be normal' look.

Alea reached down and smoothed a hand over Wyatt's sweaty hair. "We hear you, baby. We'll dial it back."

Matt sighed dramatically. "Fine. But just know I'm still screaming internally."

Wyatt gave a small smile. "That's okay."

Then he pulled out a little piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Matt. "Coach said to give this to you. It's for the next tournament."

Matt unfolded it and grinned. "Look at that. My boy's going to regionals."

Alea leaned down. "We'll be quiet. But we'll still be the loudest people there in spirit."

Wyatt giggled, hugging her around the waist. "You always are."

⸻

It was late.

The house was finally quiet—kids asleep, dishes done, the last episode of whatever show they weren't really watching still paused on the screen.

Matt and Alea lay in bed, side by side, the kind of bone-deep tired that only came from a full day of parenting three very different children. Alea was wearing one of Matt's old BC hoodies, curled under the blanket with a heating pad on her back. Matt had just gotten out of the shower, hair still damp, staring at the ceiling like he was reliving his most dramatic defeat.

Which, in a way... he was.

"I still can't believe he said that," Matt finally muttered.

Alea, barely holding it together, let out a choked laugh. "You brought a cowbell."

"It was one cowbell!" he protested, flipping toward her. "A small cowbell!"

"You also yelled, 'THAT'S MY SON!' at decibel levels I'm pretty sure only dogs could hear."

Matt flopped back dramatically against the pillows. "I was proud!"

Alea was shaking with silent laughter now, covering her face. "He was so serious. 'Mommy... Daddy... you're embarrassing me.'" She imitated Wyatt's sweet, quiet voice and lost it.

Matt groaned, laughing despite himself. "He looked heartbroken. Like we ruined his entire life."

"I mean... we kinda did," Alea teased, nudging him with her foot under the blanket. "That poor kid just wanted to practice. And we were in the stands like—" she broke off, then shouted, "'LET'S GOOOOO WYATT BOLDYYYYY!'"

Matt wheezed. "You were filming like you were gonna submit it to ESPN."

"You were crying!"

"I cry when I'm proud!"

They both burst into full-on, uncontrollable laughter. The kind where your stomach hurts and your eyes water and your pillow becomes your muffler so you don't wake the kids.

When the laughter finally died down, Matt rolled toward her and pulled her into his chest, arm wrapped tight around her waist.

"I mean... he's not wrong," he said, still grinning. "We are kind of embarrassing."

Alea nestled closer. "Yeah, but we're funny embarrassing. Loving embarrassing. We're like... harmless chaos."

"I can live with that," Matt said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But just so you know, I'm never not yelling when he scores. He's gonna have to deal."

"Same," Alea whispered, smiling against his chest. "That's our baby."

There was a beat of quiet.

Then Matt muttered, "Still kinda hurt my feelings though."

Alea laughed again, eyes closing. "Same."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

It was one of those perfect Saturday afternoons—the kind where the sun was warm, the backyard smelled faintly like sunscreen and juice boxes, and the parents had finally hit that sacred window where the kids were entertained and no one was crying.

Maryn Boldy, six years old and the boldest of the Boldys, was marching around the backyard in a glittery tutu, a plastic sword, and purple Crocs with every charm imaginable. Her hair was in two wild braids Presley had done earlier, and she had the swagger of someone who ruled an entire magical kingdom.

Trailing behind her—loyal, smitten, and very clearly in love—was Trevor Faber, also six. He looked exactly like a miniature Brock: fluffy brown hair that curled over his ears, oversized glasses that constantly slid down his nose, and the exact same cautious energy that made him look like he was always one step away from offering someone a hug.

"I'll protect you, Princess Sparkle Fire," Trevor said, adjusting his helmet (which he refused to take off because it made him "look brave") and gripping a pool noodle like a sword.

Maryn didn't even look back. "Good. Because we're going to the glitter volcano and the pirate ducks are not messing around today."

Trevor nodded solemnly and followed, clearly ready to lay down his life.

Meanwhile, from the back deck, the real show was happening—four amused parents watching the chaos unfold from Adirondack chairs, beers in hand, trying not to laugh too loudly.

Matt took a swig of his beer, smirking as he watched Trevor trip over a sprinkler and scramble to catch up. "So, your kid's definitely in love with my daughter."

Brock didn't even deny it. "He made Stacy help him pick out his 'coolest shirt' this morning. Then spent ten minutes making sure his hair looked 'extra poofy.'"

Alea sipped her seltzer and leaned her head on Matt's shoulder. "She keeps calling him her sidekick. He's literally ready to marry her and she thinks he's her royal assistant."

Stacy laughed. "She also gave him a rock and told him it was magical. He still has it in his pocket."

Matt grinned. "She gave me a rock last week and said it 'smelled like victory.'"

Out in the yard, Maryn was now dramatically pointing her sword at the sandbox, shouting something about "defending the kingdom of sparkle" while Trevor fumbled behind her, pushing his glasses up every few seconds and swinging the pool noodle like it was a broadsword.

"He's just like Brock," Alea murmured, watching the scene with a fond smile. "Down to the hair and everything."

"Hey," Brock said, raising a hand, "I was cool once."

Matt snorted. "When? At 6?"

Brock grinned. "Exactly."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Presley Boldy was sixteen, and somehow, that fact still shook Matt to his core.

She was his first baby. The one who used to fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, who cried when he left for away games, who used to run around the house in mismatched socks and a tutu shouting "I'M A WILD GIRL!"

Now she was taller, wiser, sassier, and—according to Alea—definitely in the stage of teenage heartbreaks.

It was late. The house had quieted down. Maryn and Wyatt were both in bed, and Alea was out with friends. Matt was flipping channels on the couch, mindlessly watching highlights from an old game when he heard soft footsteps.

Presley hovered near the edge of the living room, arms folded over her chest, hoodie sleeves pulled down over her hands.

"Hey, Dad?"

Matt turned, smiling. "Hey, kiddo. What's up?"

She hesitated, biting her lip.

"Can I... talk to you about something?"

He sat up straighter instantly, remote forgotten. "Of course. What's going on?"

She walked over and plopped down beside him, curling into the corner of the couch like she used to when she was ten and still let him brush her hair.

"It's about... a boy," she said softly.

Matt froze.

Mentally: Nope. Nope nope nope.

Out loud: "Yeah? Okay... cool. Um. Which one?"

Presley smiled a little. "His name's Carter. He's in my chem class."

Matt nodded slowly, trying to keep his heart rate down. Carter. Chem class. Got it. Resist the urge to Google him right now.

"We were kinda talking for a few weeks," she went on. "He was really nice. Funny. And then he just... stopped. Like, out of nowhere. No texts. No explanation. Just... nothing."

Matt's heart cracked just a little.

He hated this part of growing up for her. The part where people stopped being kind for no reason. Where boys didn't realize they were holding a heart in their hands.

Presley sighed. "It's stupid. I'm fine. I just... I feel like I did something wrong."

Matt blinked. "Hey. Stop. Look at me."

She did.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said gently. "People suck sometimes. Especially when they're scared of real feelings. Especially teenage boys. Especially boys who are dumb enough to stop texting you."

She let out a small laugh. "Mom said you'd say something like that."

"Did she also say I'd fight him if necessary?"

Presley grinned. "She might've mentioned it."

Matt smiled, but then reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear like he used to when she was little. "Pres... you are so smart. And so kind. And funny. And way too cool to waste time on someone who doesn't appreciate that."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thanks, Dad."

He kissed the top of her head. "You'll find someone who gets it. Who sees you. And when you do? He better be ready, because he's getting the whole Boldy crew along with you."

Presley laughed again. "So... Wyatt throwing pucks at him and Maryn asking if he likes unicorns?"

"Exactly," Matt said proudly. "Full initiation."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes—just dad and daughter, no TV, no noise, just the quiet understanding that growing up was hard, but she didn't have to do it alone.

"Also," Matt added, "if this Carter kid shows up at the rink again, I'm making him do suicide drills."

Presley rolled her eyes. "Dad."

"I'm just saying."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting everything in soft gold as Matt and Wyatt drove home from practice. Windows down, sticks in the trunk, and the familiar scent of ice and tape still clinging to them.

Matt glanced over at Wyatt, who was unusually quiet—hands on the steering wheel, eyes forward, that far-off look on his face like his head was somewhere else entirely.

"You okay?" Matt asked casually, like he wasn't already clocking every detail.

Wyatt blinked, then gave a soft smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

"About a girl?" Matt smirked.

Wyatt let out a tiny, sheepish laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"You've barely touched the radio, haven't chirped me about my truck once, and you've made exactly zero puns in the last ten minutes. So yeah—kind of obvious."

Wyatt scratched the back of his neck, eyes still on the road. "There's this girl. Her name's Claire. She's... really great."

Matt nodded slowly, not teasing this time. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Wyatt said, smiling like the thought of her made his chest ache in the best way. "She's funny and smart and she gets hockey but she's not weird about it, you know? And she calls me out on my crap but in this, like... nice way?"

Matt chuckled. "You've got it bad."

Wyatt laughed under his breath, then went quiet for a moment before saying, "How did you know? With Mom?"

That pulled Matt's gaze from the road to his son—this boy who was so much like him, and yet, more grounded, more thoughtful, more emotionally open.

"I knew because... she made everything feel lighter," Matt said softly. "Even the stuff that used to feel heavy."

Wyatt looked over, eyes wide. "That's kinda deep."

Matt smiled. "It's true. I met your mom in college. She wasn't trying to impress me, and I wasn't trying to be someone I wasn't. I remember one day we were at this lake thing with mutual friends, and she tripped and spilled a drink all over herself. And then just laughed. Really laughed. Loud and real and completely unbothered."

Wyatt snorted. "Very Mom."

"I remember thinking, 'That's someone I could do life with.' It wasn't fireworks, it wasn't instant movie magic. It was just... this feeling. Like I could breathe easier when she was around."

Wyatt was quiet, processing that.

"She never made me feel like I had to be 'Matt Boldy the hockey player,'" Matt continued. "Just Matt. And she's still that person. The one who grounds me. The one who's in my corner no matter what."

Wyatt nodded, chewing on his bottom lip, clearly thinking about Claire.

"She sounds a lot like that," he said finally. "Like... she makes everything calmer. Like I don't have to try so hard."

Matt smiled. "Then keep showing up for her. Keep being kind. Listen more than you talk. And if she ever spills something on herself and laughs? That's probably a keeper."

They pulled into the driveway just as the porch light flicked on. Wyatt turned off the ignition and sat there for a second.

"Thanks, Dad."

Matt looked at him—really looked—and smiled.

"You've got a good heart, Wyatt. Don't be afraid to let someone love it."

Wyatt gave him a soft smile, then hopped out of the truck, sticks rattling in the back.

From the porch, Alea waved, still in her slippers, hair in a bun, holding a cup of tea.

Matt just smiled.

Yeah. He'd known.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The Boldy house was never quiet.

It wasn't chaotic, exactly—it was lived-in. Full of half-empty coffee mugs and scattered cleats, mismatched socks on the stairs, and a faint hum of music or laughter always floating in the background.

And right now, the kitchen was buzzing.

"I'm just saying," Alea said, standing by the sink with her arms crossed and an unbothered smirk on her face, "you could've just made regular pancakes."

Matt turned away from the stove, spatula in hand, an actual gasp leaving his mouth. "Obscure?! You called my pancakes obscure?"

"I don't even know what flavor that was. Sage? Nutmeg? Was there cinnamon bark in there?"

Matt squinted. "There was a hint of clove."

"That's not a pancake, babe. That's a mood board."

"I'm never cooking for you again."

"You never cook for me."

Across the kitchen, Presley sat at the island, unfazed, sipping coffee from her World's Best Sister mug while typing furiously on her laptop. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, her eyes were laser-focused, and she had opinions on everything happening around her.

"Mom, Dad. Please. If you're going to argue, do it efficiently. Wyatt's trying to study, and I have a team meeting in ten minutes."

From the other side of the house, a muffled, "I'm good!" could be heard—Wyatt, tucked away in the sunroom, curled up on the armchair with a hockey tactics book and a notebook full of scribbles. He had his headphones halfway on, one eye on the book, the other on his phone playing slow-mo clips from NHL replays.

Meanwhile, Maryn was in the backyard, her pink gardening gloves on upside down, carefully "planting" a bunch of fake silk flowers she'd stolen from Alea's spring centerpiece.

"Look, Bluebell," she said seriously to a garden gnome. "If the unicorns come tonight, tell them to use the side gate. Daddy gets mad when they trample the lawn."

Alea looked out the window, sighed, and mumbled, "She's talking to the gnome again."

Matt, from behind her, leaned close and whispered, "At least she's not using real glitter this time."

Presley stood abruptly, gathering her laptop, tablet, and a very detailed color-coded clipboard. "I have a meeting with the youth leadership board in three minutes, then I'm helping Maryn with her talent show routine. Also, Wyatt's lunchbox is still in the mudroom and he's not going to remember, and Dad—please don't make those pancakes again. No one asked for fall spice in April."

Then she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway, her braid swinging like a power move.

Matt blinked. "She scares me a little."

"She scares everyone," Alea said fondly.

From the backyard, Maryn shouted, "I named the worm after you, Daddy!"

Matt turned. "Thank you?"

It was just another day in the Boldy house.

Bickering and brilliance. Pancakes and power moves. Hockey books and unicorns and a garden full of silk flowers. Loud, loving, and undeniably them.

Exactly how they liked it.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

[yourlocalartsonist]

MFIP (and life) UPDATE✨✨

1/13/25 | Update 3 | Next Update | Last Update

Oh-ho-ho notice how I didn’t have “monthly” in the title this time~ Yeah, we’re not doing these that frequently anymore. I realized I have a lot going on, and MFIP doesn’t really have progress done every single month; I’m writing a fic, so it’s even harder to show progress without spoiling shit honestly, and I don’t make a new art piece every month. I’m still gonna be doing these updates, though! They’ll happen every 3-4 months—not including hiatuses—so I’ll actually have stuff to share with you guys and not have to worry about scraping for dimes.

Anywhizzle, today’s update is gonna be a long boi, and I wanted to just yap about what was going on this semester in general. I know I shouldn’t be feeling guilty for not working on the fic as much as I wanted to, but I still wanna give you guys an explanation as to why I randomly disappeared for a good few months. Unlike what I usually do however, Imma start with the life bullshit this time instead having it at the end. We’ll get to the actual progress update afterwards, and boy oh boy was progress made. So strap in for the ride folks!

Now Presenting: “What The Fuck Happened To You⁉️”

Okay, so, I’m a little bit of a dumbass—

Dudes if any of you are gonna start college or are currently in college, please think twice before making the same mistake as me. Last semester during the fall, my teeny tiny little apeshit brain thought it would be a good idea to enroll in six courses, four of which are online.

“I can handle it!” I thought, “How bad could it be~” And much like the Onceler, I got motherfucking humbled.

See, I dunno if it’s different anywhere else but for my college, online classes typically mean you get a fresh new load of work to do and hand in every week. Two of the classes my little Einstein heart enrolled for AS ELECTIVES were Criminal Justice and Creative Writing. Ya know! For fun! It’s not like I was enrolled in Calculus Level 2 and the Calc 2 Lab Class for my career requirements at the same time as those or anything—Oh, wait.

Anyways, me being the little genius I was thought that wasn’t enough, and enrolled in two more elective classes. To give myself some credit, one of those classes was Geography which would be a very easy grade. To immediately take that credit back, the other class was Physics: Energy and Environment literally because they wouldn’t let me enroll in an actual Physics class until the Spring semester and my moronic ass was impatient, so gave myself a supplement💀

As you can probably tell, I had massive regrets lmao. The workload was extremely hefty considering both Creative Writing and Criminal Justice had a LOT of reading and writing; both classes would have around 3-4 assignments due for each class at the end of the week. The Physics class took place hella late in the day twice a week, so I’d have to get all that work done before that class started ‘cause I’d be way too exhausted to do anything afterwards.

It was a living hell.

I was working on studying and homework almost every single day for hours on end. Being real with y’all, it added to a lot of stress and irritation, and admittedly a few breakdowns where I legitimately had to just cry to relieve the stress. It’s why I hope no poor soul bites off more than they can chew in a moment of overconfidence or just poor judgement the way I did ‘cause man that semester was so rough. I actually love college too, so getting me to dread it meant I def fucked up with choosing classes. Needless to say, I barely got to work on MFIP for four months. Progress was slow, if any at all.

I’ve talked about this before too, but my mom’s a breast cancer survivor and I’m an only child. Since my dad’s the sole breadwinner, I’m the only one who can take care of my mom. AKA on top of all the pressure from college, I had to manage doctor appointment after doctor appointment, and it only adds up to more chaos as more doctors have to get involved.

BUT HEY!

I got through it in the end! And without withdrawing from any of my classes or getting a low grade! So the torture is thankfully over and I now know to literally never do that again for as long as I live— Now that it’s winter break though… 👀

🎉CONTENT TIME BABYYYYYYY🎉

So the good news of all of this is once winter break hit I uhhhhh got silly.

DUDES you won’t believe the sheer level of fucking insanity that took place once I was finally able to finish this semester, go on break, and actually write. I uh…

I finished Chapter 10 in two days🦐

Yeah I uh finished the fucking chapter in two days I am not shitting you. My ass went on break, sat down, and accidentally finished this long ass chapter that’s above 11K words within two days. It’s even funnier because I was tweaking so badly to work on MFIP the entire semester that once I finally sat down, I figured out exactly what I want to happen all throughout the rest of the arc. To properly explain, Imma just say how I usually work on my chapters.

I don’t actually have an organized outline for MFIP! I have a Google Docs full of ideas and certain beats I know I want the story to hit, and I generally know in my head what’s gonna happen. The details are what I figure out as I go, it’s like improv but for writing. Why don’t I just make a proper outline for the story? Because my brain genuinely can’t work that way for MFIP🦐✨ I’m not sure why; it’s not like I suck at outlines or anything, but MFIP just gets overcomplicated when I try to make an outline for it. There are so many different threads all tying back to each other that the only way I can properly comprehend it is by trusting what’s in my head.

I’m not going into detail to avoid spoiling, but I know exactly what most of the story is gonna be. I have an endpoint in mind, albeit one that’s very far into the future.

I knew what was gonna happen in the end of Arc One all the way from when I started the first chapter. That’s why the entire arc is building up or spiraling down to the events of Chapter 14. The difference is, now know 90% of the details for each of the remaining chapters too! It basically means I’ll have a very smooth writing process ‘cause all I have to do for these final chapters is to write them.

I’ve completely finished Chapter 10 and am currently around 5K+ words into Chapter 11.

Once my team finishes editing it, it’ll be published here and on AO3 as usual. I’m anticipating for it to come out sometime in late February!

HOWEVER, THERE’S ✨MORE✨MOTHERFUCKERRR

💥ONESHOTS💥

THAT’S RIGHT! We’re getting canon Oneshots along with the chapters! I’ll be posting them in a specific order, but I’ll say between which chapters the Oneshot takes pace in the author’s note so y’all can keep track easier~

The Oneshots will vary in POV. Sometimes it’ll be Salena, sometimes someone else.

I’ll make it obvious which character it is if it’s a relevant character at all but I’ll also, once again, leave the info in the author’s notes! We’re not tryna recreate FNAF here-

They’re a cool way to show more content to the story that’s either too short to fit a chapter, or just not from Salena’s perspective. They don’t HAVE to be read in order to understand the story of MFIP, but they do add a lot more substance to the events that transpire. It’s like peeling back to see another layer and more context.

The first oneshot Dear Moon will release soon after this update!

It might even release the next day, honestly. I really can’t wait for you all to read them! I think they turned out really well ;w;

✨To Art, or Not To Art? That Is the Question✨

Yeah I’ve been a bit indecisive on the whole art in the Updates thing

I’m not gonna post any art for this Update bc it’s already getting like WAY too long, but I’m debating the whole thing altogether. I don’t really think it’s necessary, and I would much rather make art its own separate posts on Tumblr and yap about ‘em there. It’ll def take off the pressure of creating a new art piece to talk about considering this is a fanfic not a comic. Otherwise my ass was scavenging through procreate for art like a hyena scavenges for meat💀 I might try out showing off all the art I posted here and link to the posts where I yap about them.

It’ll be like a gallery for all the pieces made between the Updates~

I think it’ll be more fun to post stuff that way instead, and also reduce how much I procrastinate with these Updates—

And That’ll Be All Folks~!

I think that’s everything for this Update. You guys have no idea how happy I am to FINALLY be back😭

Classes start again for me in around a week, but I’ll probably still have time to create stuff so won’t need a full blown hiatus again. It’s gonna be a bit tricky since my classes are very math-heavy and intense this semester, but I tried being smarter about my schedule to not overwhelm myself.

So yeah, I’ll keep working on MFIP and posting whenever I can! I’m so excited to finish off Arc One of the story and finally get to the part I’ve been building up to for around two years now. Only five more chapters to go~!

Some last little reminders!

Dear Moon Oneshot will be out within this week

“Are You Free Tomorrow?” Oneshot will be out sometime in late February

MFIP Chapter 10 will be out on the soonest Friday within that same week of February

ROTTMNT: Moths Fly In Packs

[themulitipurposechannel]

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

inspired by @goodlucktai and their incredible story “Raised on little light”

Part: Two

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

This is hope.

_

The air is much chillier today. Once upon a time, that would be the herald of their highly anticipated snow day. Emojis will flood the family groupchat, plans will be made, schedules will be cleared, homework conspicuously forgotten. But that was then. This is now.

Leo's memorial hangs above them like a haunting guillotine. It would be better if he actually was haunting this place. Anything is better than this.

"Hi" Mikey smiles weakly, trying to play off his squeak of suprise into faux causalness. "I saved you lunch."

Raph nods. "Thanks" he pokes at the reheated chicken curry and rice in silence. It's good. It always is. But it feels like ash most days.

"So how was patrol? You're not usually back this early." Mikey bless his soul. He's trying so hard.

It hurts as much as it warms the snapper's heart. His littlest brother, trying so hard to scrap together just a little more light for all of them, like he wasn’t crying himself to sleep every night, the ‘if I was just a little faster’ eating him up alive.

(Dead in the middle of the night, the snapping alligator turtle returns back from patrol and freezes just outside a colourful subway car. Soft shaking sobs, creep out from just beyond the unlit car.

Raph wants nothing more than to walk in, scoop his little brother into his arms and never let anything hurt him ever again. But the memory of pink tendrils and ‘if this is the end I want to let you know that I’m sorry’ hold him in place. Raph is not safe.

So shamefully, cowardly, like every night before this, the eldest brother turns and walks away.)

Michelangelo deserves better than this.

But Raphael is not safe.

"It was fine just... loud. You know how humans are" The snapper shrugs half-heartedly, sitting across the table from the box turtle. It was more than that. Cheerful music, parading crowd. Raph gets it, he does. By all accounts it's a good thing. A victory over the failed invasion. Humanity won, Yokai-kind won too. And knowing of it or not, the whole of earth won as well.

They have no idea what bled for them that day. What still bleeds for them to this day. Raph tries to stomach it till he couldn't no more. Grief festering in his chest till he punched a hole through an old construction site. That, was when he knew he had to head home to their dojo before he did something he regrets. Which actually... is something he should get back too. He still too angry.. he's not. Raph's not safe.

"Hah.. New York what a town right?" Mikey nudges him shyly, blind to the danger present. Raph flinches, jerking away. Raph's not safe.

"Mikey! Careful-!" The red snapper snaps immediately deflating in muted horror at the younger turtle’s grimace. What is he doing? He’s scaring him! “I-geez, sorry. sorry.” The floor is suddenly much more interesting to look at now. “Raph was just thinking of going to the dojo” The snapper sags.

"Oh okay.. I see” Mikey’s smile wobbles, at the corner of his eye, Raph can see it. “That’s.. that’s ok, big bro. have fun." His voice is pitched just a tiny bit too high. Raph doesn’t need to look at Mikey directly, years of growing up togather tell him the box turtle is barely choking back tears.

It's another stab at his already leaking heart, his baby brother always so loud with his emotions has no right being this subdued. You already leave him to cry alone. Mind Raph reminds him, firm but not cruel. Raph would really prefer it if he was. He wants you to stay. You can at least do this much.

"Actually, the dojo can wait. You got lots on your plate right?" Raph quickly pivots, motioning to the half filled sink."Raph will help you clean up" The older teen picks up his plate and starts towards the sink, still keeping a wide berth between them.

The result is instantaneous. The sun breaks through the stormy clouds. Mikey looks like he can damn near combust from how widely he is grinning, trying and failing to hide the not so subtle flutter of his hands in a happy stim.

It makes the snapper’s heart want to burst. Once, a long time ago this would be the time Raph would sweep his baby brother, sunshine personified, into a big crushing hug, a playful noogie included. But that was then. This is now.

Instead slowly, carefully, Raph reaches out and briefly pats Mikey’s head. Proud of himself for barely shaking this time. It’s such a small thing, it used to be so easy. Still Mikey gratefully drinks it all in, like a cactus to water in a desert.

“So you draw anything new?” Raph tries to ask. Immediately grimacing at the awkwardness of it all. Talking used to be so easy. What happened to them?

Luckily Mikey seems to take it in stride. Happy to talk and talk and talk about the new charcoal medium he was trying, the weird Lou jitsu memorabilia he found while cleaning (Since when did Mikey clean?? Willingly??) under the couch and the one or two grocery’s hauls done by April. No mention of Mikey begging April let him go topside with her. No mention of any junkyard trips with Donnie(not that Raph was surprised). No trips outside. No detours. Nothing.

Since when did that happen too? Distinctly Raph can remember many a time spent furiously wrangling a tiny little brother over the phone for him to come home. Because it’s getting late, the sun is coming up, Big man that alley isn’t going to run away, you can come back later please-

His little brother, for all his box turtle homing instincts, loved to explore, weather it be to discover small family shops in the hidden city or find a new spot for graffiti topside. Discovering new things was his thing, it’s what made Michelangelo, Michelangelo. Then again how much did the snapper really know of his brothers nowadays huh? He pushes that thought aside before he can dwell on it any further not wanting to sour this rare lightness.

“…And then I spent the rest of the day trying get rid of those annoying cobwebs!” Mikey shakes his head. “Dad was right we really need to clean our rafters more!” The box turtles huffs as he places a now clean plate into their cabinet.

But the last time Raph remembered dad complaining, or the tell-tale swoosh of a lab door being opened was 14 months ago.

Pizza supreme, Raph blinks, swaying a little. That was why the box turtle drank in any and all touch Raph gave. This poor kid, oh god his poor baby brother, one of their most sociable and people loving family members, technically with Leo gone Mikey was the only one now.

All alone for months on end with the only indication that he wasn’t the only living soul in the lair, was the occasional bags of food that appeared by the lair’s entrance and the empty plates by Donnie’s lab and Pop’s room. Mikey must be so, so touch starved. How long has the box turtle been doing this? How did they let this get so bad? How did they not notice? What happened to us? The eldest brother mourns. If nothing else, he resolves to at least try to give his poor, touch starved brother one head pat every other day. He’s already failed Leo and Donnie, he can’t fail Mikey too.

Unbidden, Raph can’t help but remember a time just last week, where he had punched their punching bag clean off its chain. Only to return an hour later with a new one already in its place. At that time he assumed it was Donnie (with all his all seeing cameras and regular but eerily silent maintenance to all their appliances. No more loudly complaining over who broke their toaster) who replaced it but now-

Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Raphie..? Raphala?” Mikey smiles sweetly but hesitantly. Thankfully, the box turtle seemed to learn his lesson earlier. Instead of touching the older turtle like before, Mikey taps the countertop to get Raph’s attention. “Is everything ok?”

“Oh yeh;Raph’s good.” Raph shakes his head. “Was just thinking”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Big doe eyes somehow get wider. Once upon a time that would have been enough to make Raph cave.

“Your uhm-hands are doing good.” Raph cringes, painfully adverting his gaze. Mikey scowls, with narrowed eyes that says ‘Boi you are not slick’. But the days of loud Dr Delicate touch, fearlessly climbing or latching on top of his brothers and pushing,and pushing, until they fess up are far behind them.

So instead, Mikey sighs and with a worn smile, he says. “You know you can always talk to me right Raph?”

“I.. I know.” Raph nods, beak quirking into crumpled facsimile of a smile, cuz gosh does he know. All those Dr feelings seminars. Raph shudders to himself. But this, something about their ‘this’ will always feel too much like a raw nerve or a live wire his other little brother was way too fond of playing with. Shit, he missed Donnie so much. How was it possible to miss someone who was still alive this much? Some days it really did feel like he lost two little brothers instead of one. One was already one too many.

With a shake of his head Raph forces himself back into his body. No need to space out twice now. He already promised himself he’ll try for Mikey. If Donnie, April and Dad weren’t going to be here. Raph would at least try, so that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Same goes for you too, big man” The snapper gestures to the box turtle with his chin. And he means it he does.

Mikey hums, nodding. Resuming his task.

The sound dissolves into the quiet clinking of plates and sloshing water. Not quite uncomfortable but not quite comfortable either.

“Is your eye doing ok?” Mikey ask, trying to steer them to more comfortable waters.

“It’s fine.” Raph answers, happy to take the out. “More than fine. Doesn’t ache at all actually. Just numb and a little tingly.”

“Oh mi gosh! You too?”

Surprised, Raph snaps his head towards an equally wide eyed Mikey. It breaks his heart. His little brother used to be so much louder than this. Raph tries to smile encouragingly, prompting the orange turtle to continue.

“My hands still shake sometimes. But every time I think they’re going to start hurting they just don’t” The box turtle pouts . “Even Barry was surprised. He says it’s supposed to hurt. I just feel tingly and numb too”. His face scrunches briefly, disgruntled. “-makes it hard to know when I overdo it though.” To demonstrate, Mikey wiggles all 6 fingers in a loose jazz hands gesture. Smiling slightly.

A surprised laughs tears out from the older brothers beak; equal parts exasperated and fond. He doesn’t know what why, it wasn’t really that funny. But something about the silly gesture must have reached him somewhere. Because here he is, airy and softer but still,laughing.

Delighted, Mikey giggles back. Eyes wet. How long has it been since he last heard his brother laugh?

If only Leo was here.

If only this could last forever.

But Something suffocates the precious warmth instantly

Mikey's hold on the plate shatters. It drops to the ground breaking into a million pieces.

Speak of the ghosts and the ghosts will come.

(Deep Down, beneath them, inside of them, around them, where the space of RedPurpleOrangeGreenWhite swirl around each other so close yet so far. No longer able to bear the thought of intersection but unable bear the thought of tearing away from each other.

Nonono-

Something withers. something dies.

Like the chime of Blue saying ‘Hero moves are totally your style’

Before it winks out from existence, leaving a gaping hole behind. It doesn’t even bleed. It would have been better if it at least bled. Now its just empty-

No please we can’t go through this again-)

Frantically, head partially in his chest, the box turtle staggers, looking around fearfully, spots glowing orange in alarm.

"Where-?" Mikey starts.

For the first time in months, pure big brother instinct completely overrides his anxiety, Raph grabs for Mikey. Tucking him protectively under his shoulder protectively and races towards Donnie's lab. He'll be there. The softshell never left these days.

For the first time since they laid their Blue to rest. The sliding door to Pop's room bursts open.

"Boys! How-!?” Splinter yells rushing toward them.

"We're all fine! I don't know! " Mikey cries back, slightly giddy over the most physical contact he’s gotten in months, despite the current situation. Meanwhile Raph damn near breaks down the softshell’s door. His eye twitches. “Donnie! Donnie!! Open the door!”

For the first time in months, an achingly familiar voice answers back. “I’m okay! I know! I know! Sweet Galileo I’m trying to fix it!"

The door opens with a swoosh, releasing a gust stale air into their faces. A frazzled Donnie steps out. Eyebags galore and stench of old coffee stronger than Raph’s notorious fear stink. Raph bites down the urge to lecture the teen’s bed wrangled state.

The purple teen in question, is typing furiously on his computer wrist, while his phone is tucked between his shoulder and his face. April's voice can heard from its speaker. Yelling confusion.

(Wrong wrong wrong. The shared space of their already off kilter family mystic sways dangerously. It's quiet, too quiet. Large steady Red drapes over his remaining universe tightly, shielding orangepurplegreenwhite in a protective shield.

The colours mix. They reach for each other for the first time in months both inside and outside in shared confusion and terror.

Where?

What's going on?

We're all here.

So.. why?

But then just as quickly as it came. The ringing silence is gone. Their constellation is settles back into its uncertain balance, all is well.

Huh?

Wait. Resilient Green hushes them, listen. Tentatively, they reach out to where they hadn’t thought to do before.

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

It's a heartbeat. One of them realises in dawning horror.

But who?

Who else can possibly be here with them that can throw them further off balance now?

An image of similarly decorated kneepads flashes in Orange's mind. He pushes that image to the rest.

Guys. Casey.

On que, the teal heartbeat flatlines.

Oh no.

Before it staggers to its feet. Irregular and slow.

Alien relief washes over them. It wrestles with well-worn distrust and bitterness.)

“We need to find future boy.” Pops states, voice raspy from a year of disuse and places a hand on Donnie’s arm. The sudden contact nearly startles the softshell into dropping his phone. Not that Raph can blame him. He can scarcely believe dad is here either. “He owes us some answers”

In the end, they decide to split up to cover more ground. Unsurprisingly, the future protoge found a way to disable Future Donnie’s comm line. Or at least found a way to undo whatever Donnie did to sync future boy’s comm to their comm system. So contacting him directly is not an option.

It takes two hours. One wild goose chase and trying so hard to listen a nigh invisible heartbeat. When April (what would they ever do without her) points out, “Hey didn’t future boy say they lived in caves?”

Before they focus their efforts solely to the underground. Mikey took the sewers, Raph in the underground maintainance tunnels and April and Splinter in the abandoned train stations while Donnie continued to search the city’s database for any more underground structures they could check.

It’s been 3 more hours since then and one more cliff-hanging flatline.

The snapper rubs at his unseeing eye, annoyed. If he knew it was going to start aching today he would have taken some pain meds.

A creaking noise grabs his attention.

Raph looks up, seeing a half loose ceiling panel swaying in the drafty tunnel. He can’t fit. Maybe April or Mikey can. But they’re halfway across the city’s underground sector. Do it scared, do it scared. It seems today was just full of pushing past his fear huh?

So standing on his tiptoes, Raph sticks his head up the hole, his breath hitches. The smell alone makes his eyes water.

There, nestled between the tunnel’s false ceiling and actual ceiling is his little brother's killer, the one locked the door on his Leo while there was a monster with his little brother on the other side, (nevermind the fact that Leo asked him too) surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and so much more impossibly thin and still, if it weren’t for the flagging teal he’d think the boy was already dead.

Raph doesn’t know if it’s because of the revelation of distant family or the boy’s pitiful state or because of his years spent as the eldest brother, the one who is the biggest, the one who takes care of them all. Oh he's too small, Raph can’t help but think.

This is their family Ninpo. It runs on love and trust: Even at the height of their ancestor's obession with martyrdom, there had been love and trust buried in there somewhere. The family mystic wouldn't have survived to their current generation otherwise.

But Casey’s is not buried in the ground. It is not the kind that martyrs their own at the first opportunity. Not even for good reason.

It wells a confused pity, soured by residual anger. future boy; all alone. Displaced in a timeline not his own and disowned by the only remnants of familiarity.

Gingerly, carefully and trying not to have a panic attack over the prospect of prolonged contact. Deep breaths. Just take deep breathes. You’re the only one who can do this. Breathe. You picked up Mikey, and he was fine. you can do it again. It’s just for a little while. Trembling down to a manageable level, Raph then lifts the unconscious human up and down through the rafter hole. The movement causes stained, loosely tied bandages to slip, and the stench goes from bad to downright horrendous.

The overpowering smell of sewer and pus nearly makes him drop the kid into dirty sewer water and gag. Which is saying something cuz Raph grew up in the sewers. The snapper is no medic, but pizza supreme, he knows humans aren’t supposed to be this warm nor is their flesh is supposed to leak yellow or swell such an angry red.

Holding the boy at arms length, Raph lifts his comms to his face. “I found future boy. Heading back to the lair now. He’s hurt bad.” If he sounds a little breathless no one points it out. He doesn’t stay long enough the rest of the group’s verbal assent. There are too many thoughts in his head. Raph doesn’t know what to feel as he walks back through the dark tunnels.

.

.

.

It’s 3am when the search finally concludes, too long since the mutant turtles and rat last ate lunch and too late for April to make the journey back to her apartment.

She stays overnight for the first time since that day. The group stand around the living room in silence. The rush of trying to stabilise the med-bay-bound time traveler is finally over and with it, their crushing spector returns with a vengeance.

“Well, I guess I’ll go get dinner started then!” Mikey smiles nervously, ducking out to escape to the kitchen. “I hope you guys don’t mind lasagna !” He calls.

Sharing one last glance, the rest disperse. No words need to be said, they all know their roles. Even months apart and drowning in unnatural silence, cannot wash away the years of laying this foundation.

April grabs the plates and utensils, Raph and Donnie start to round up the assortment of beanbags and chairs scattered across the lair and bring it to the table while Splinter hovers near the kitchen doorway, in case Mikey needed him. He was the only one, save April or occasionally Raph, who Mikey trusted in his kitchen. They were supposed to be banned together. Set of a pair.

“Ah” April chokes up, freezing mid-plate placement. Worried, Donnie walks over, leaving Raph to set the last beanbag. “April what’s wrong?”

In response, a strangled gasp (it sounds suspiciously like tears) escapes from his older sister, she shakes her head unable to continue. The soft shell frowns and begins counting the plates with his hand. One, Two, Three.. yes, there were six plates. Donnie doesn’t see the issue, six plates for six people-himself, April, Dad, Raph, Mikey, Le- Oh. His hand drops. Suddenly the cold tiles beneath him go from unnoticeable to digging pins and needles into his heels. Hurts, hurts everything hurts.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” April shakes, She’s crying, Donnie is frozen. His heart beats a rabbit quick. Donnie doesn’t know what to do. He can’t do. His other half is gone, His big sister rarely ever cries, the faint sounds from the kitchen are too much.I can’t do this. It’s all too much.

The softshell doesn’t realise he’s hyperventilating till a solid warmth rests on his shoulders.

“Donnie? Dee..? Hey. It’s ok. Copy me and Mikey ok? Deep breath in, deep breath out”

A deep rumbling churr and a raspingly familiar lullaby, one that he hasn’t heard since he was a tot, joins them in the undertone.

He forces his breaths to slow. Safe. You are safe.

Squeezing the tears from his eyes. His vision clears, and somehow the softshell finds himself sitting on the ground with a weighted blanket draped on him. April is kneeled in front to him, Mikey and Splinter beside her. While Mikey and her exaggerate their breaths for him to follow. His father’s lullaby draws to a close. Come back

Behind him, his big brother shivers, still churring, a comforting presence no blanket can ever achieve.

Confused, Donnie arches a brow at his younger brother and father. Weren’t they supposed to be in the kitchen?

Familiar with his nonverbal gestures, Mikey speaks softy, for the softshell’s comfort. “You know how dad is. Pointy ears and all. He heard you hyperventilating, I saw him try to leave.. well you know.” The box turtle shrugs. “Dinner’s already in the oven, it’ll be fine.”

It’s truly a testament to how off-kilter everyone is, when Dad refrains from using his tail to smack the youngest for the ears comment.

Donnie nods stiffly, still not quite able to push past the weight holding his tongue.

He feels naked, exposed. Yet…somehow his body feels more relaxed and unwound than it has ever been in months, as if finally awoken from a long dream. For the first time, Donnie turns and lets his eyes wander around their lair, truly look at it. Not shamble through its halls during the witching hours half dead and with a single minded focus on: coffee, fix the occasional appliance, and returning to his lab.

The cobwebs by the rafters are gone. The playstation controllers are neatly stacked, the floor. The floor. A chill creeps back up his feet and into his hands. Gone is the stubborn layer of dust, dirt and crumbs that somehow always managed to coat the floor. It’s clean. It not supposed to be clean. Not even with three teenage boys.

I have become a ghost in my own home. The softshell blinks, dazed. How much has he missed? The genius wonders with no small amount of dread.

Mikey cocks his head to the side, cautiously curious. “Do you want to talk about it? Signing works too.”

The softshell’s feels his shoulders rise, ice all over. gone.gone. Gone. Six plates. A broken set. How he could be possibly explain this? How could he possibly articulate that kind of agony.

Sensing the return of the younger boy’s spiral, April shoulder checks him, disrupting the thought train. “It’s my fault. I was setting the table but then I realised-” Her voice wavers, but no new tears spill out. “- I realised I grabbed six plates”

Grieving understanding darkens everyone else’s face.

“Yeah.” April laughs sardonically. “I’m being a terrible big sister right now aren’t I?”

Donnie frowns, vermantly. As does everyone else in protest.

“April no..”

“That’s not true-”

“Green..”

“Guys stop.” She holds her hands up , Let me finish. She adds unspoken. They let her. Because when April O’Neil wanted to say something you listened.

“You guys don’t have to make me feel better ok? I know.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around herself in some modicum of comfort. “You’re my family.” The 19 year old cries heartbroken, bowing her head in shame. “You’re my family, you guys needed me and I avoided this place like the plague. Because it hurt too much to be here.” Unspoken their eyes drift to Leo’s memorial before returning back to each other.

“You were hurting…” Raph offers up, no longer churring.

“We’re all hurting! That doesn’t make it an excuse!” April hisses, snapping up to meet the second eldest’s gaze. Her eyes fierce even with a fresh set of tears. The snapper shrinks.

The human crumbles too, instant regret colours her face. “Oh, big guy I’m so sorry.” Gently, slowly she reaches out a tentative hand to the largest turtle. He leans into it, only to draw back at the very last second.

She presses lips into a thin line to keep herself from crying harder. April nods, eyes flashing in pained understanding. She sighs, steeling herself and then continues.

“When that void hit our Ninpo.. again” they all grimace in mutual disgust . “Fuck.. I was terrified. it was like being stuck on the ground again where we had to watch Leo, except worse.” She cups her hands to her face. “Because this time, I stayed away on purpose.”

“What if it wasn’t Casey? But one of you ?” She looks off into the distance, haunted. “What if the last memory you all had of me was off the worst day of our lives, instead of me telling you guys how much I love you. Because I do.” She says, wrecked with grief. But also love Always love. “Splints you’re my weird uncle, and you boys are my little brothers. I can’t lose you guys.”

Unable to contain himself anymore, Mikey loops his arms around her waist and burrows into her side. She reciprocates eagerly, wrapping an arm around her youngest brother and pulling him closer. “You’re not the only one who was pulling away.” The box turtle says sadly.

To the side, the former actor turned father and current Hamato patriarch says nothing, he watches his beloved sons and niece(?)semi-ward(?), (bah, doesn’t matter she’s family) silently. Deep in thought.

“Michel’s right.” Donnie chimes in, finally able to get his tongue working. They all look to him with varying degrees of suprise. Which is fair, he’s not exactly the picture of emotional vulnerability or mental health. None of them are. Donnie swallows down a lump. He does not want to do this. Newton’s beard does he not want to do this.

But his home is being warped around him. There is sterility where there should be chaos. Mikey is withdrawn, Raph is touch adverse, April is crying and Papa has not once complained bout missing any off his TV shows. We’re breaking. Donnie realises with hysterical dread. They’re barreling to the point of no return, and if something doesn’t give soon, they might be too far gone from themselves and each other, to ever fit back together.

He’s already bleeding out from the space where his twin used to be. Losing them like this, in any form will truly be the final gun shot to his brain. And they definitely won’t survive losing his genius either.

“I don’t.. I don’t think I know what to do with myself without Leo around.” He shifts uneasily, adverting his eyes from his family. “But I don’t want to leave you guys alone.” He grimaces, picking at his nails in nervous tick. “And I know.. leaving per se, isn’t what Leo would want. So as I’m sure as some of you know..” Donnie casts what he hopes is an apologetic look to Raph and Mikey. The ones he was sure felt his absence most keenly, like it or not, his father and him had very similar coping mechanisms, ie: drowning themselves in whatever be it TV shows or inventing to distract themselves from reality. “..I try to keep myself busy.” The softshell finishes.

Raph pales at the implication. “Donnie..” he says pained, but doesn’t make a move to hold the soft shell. Instead his hands brush against the younger teen’s shoulders tense and longing. Donnie tries not to take it personally.

He feels his dad’s tail wraps around his waist and squeeze. “I am so sorry, my son.”

Tearing up, Mikey slowly unwinds himself from April and holds out his arms in invitation. Donnie leans forward and the box turtle pulls Donnie into a hug, squeezing him with all the fierce, warm love only the sun like him can give. “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for staying.” His little brother says fiercely.

“I can never leave you all without my genius” He hugs Mikey back. Because it is true. Leo is his other half. But his whole world has always been made up of RaphLeoMikeyAprilPapa and the numerous tiny planets that made up his love for science and mechanical engineering.

It’s funny really. The genius locked himself in his lab, threw himself into home security, and chipped away at the backlogs of blueprints that had accumulated over the years, all in an effort to slow the bleeding. There could be no space for grief and the ‘just a little left and you can join him’ if he worked himself to exhaustion.

It kept him from thinking. It kept him in stasis. It kept him and his katana-sharp grief from spilling out and poisoning his beloved family. But he already did, didn’t he? For all his genius he failed to account how his absence was a poison too.

Yet this small pocket of family comforting him, helping him through his recent meltdown has done more to warm the chill and bandage the wrongness of gone gone gone-Something intrinsic to Hamato Donatello is gone- than any machine or programme he worked himself to death making.

Truthfully, Donnie doesn’t know if he can ever truly live with being half of a whole or a piece of his world gone, but for his remaining world, he’s willing to try. Besides, wasn’t Excascale computing becoming global soon? He definitely wants to try and stick around for that.

April rests her head on his shoulder, “Oh Dee.. we are so going to find you a therapist.”

“Preferably one with at least 4 doctorates.” He quips back, half joking-half serious.

Her eyes blaze determinedly with all the fire she was so famous for. “Consider it done.” Big sister of the whole wide world.

“Raph can look in the hidden city too.” Raph volunteers. “I’ll help too.” Donnie feels Mikey nod enthusiastically.

Despite everything, Donnie feels a small twitch upwards at his beak the first touch of a smile since that day. This.. this was still good.

“Actually..” after a brief pause, Mikey pipes up, nervously. “Since we’re all sharing something today, is it ok if I say something too?”

“Go for it.”

“Of course.”

“Always”

“Ok..ok I’m gonna do it.”Nervous, the youngest drums his fingers along Donnie’s battleshell. The softshell tsks, extending two metal claws from his shell to grab the younger’s hands. “Sorry.” Mikey shrinks.

“It’s fine. Just grip the claws instead.” The purple branded teen instructs, not breaking the hug. Mikey nods, and then proceeds to white knuckle the offered claws so tightly, the metal begins to creak. It makes the older brother want to shove the younger away and scream my baby! But it’s been a literal year since he has last seen his little brother (jeezus how did he let it get this bad) so Donnie resists; just this once.

“So..” Mikey takes a deep shuddering breath, “I don’t want you guys to take this the wrong way. I love you guys. I love to cook for you guys, I promise.” He looks to April,Splinter,Raph pleadingly.

“And I know you’re all hurting so I don’t mind handling the chores myself either.” He smiles wobbly. Shock briefly paints Donnie and Splinter’s face. Raph hunches inward and April’s looks away, ashamed. So that was who deep cleaned their floor and cleared out the webs. The mutant rat concludes heartbroken. He gently cups his son’s face. Mikey leans into it.

The floor alone would have taken days. How lonely must his son have been? Splinter mourns.

“B-but it gets really hard sometimes and I’m sorry.” Mikey hiccups, big fat tears rolling down his face. Forming a damp patch on the softshell’s shoulder that he bravely tolerates. “A-and I know I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s my fault Leo-”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Not their youngest.

The explosion of protests is violent.

“Baby, no.” April gasps horrified.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.” Donnie hisses, wrenching Mikey away by his shoulders and shaking him.

“But if I was just a little faster-” The box turtle shakes.

“Orange, you did everything you could”

“But you guys-” Mikey whimpers.

“No.” Raph growls, clenching his fists. “ just because we’re hurting doesn’t mean anything. We are relying a bit too much on you. You cook for all of us. You’re the only one who keeps our home clean,” Raph places a light hand atop his little brother head. He has to say this, he has to. For Mikey. And.. for himself. “And Leo..” They all flinch. “Leo made his own choices.” Raph sags. “So please, don’t hurt my baby brother by blaming him for things out of his control.”

“But.. what about you?” Mikey wobbles

“Huh?” Raph tilts his head to the side.

“Do you blame yourself?” Point blank when he wants to me.

There is silence. The snapper recoils back stung. Raph for as big as he is, feels smaller than ever. “It’s not the same. You were trying to help. But I..”he hands his head low. “I hurt you guys.”

A chorus of protest break out again.

“It wasn’t you!”

“Literally impossible. You? The guy who feeds stray cats?”

“It was the Krang!”

“I know that!” Raph snaps. “It’s so stupid I know. The krang did it, not me.” The snapper grips his head. “But I’m the strongest and the biggest. And everything I close my eyes I see..” the red turtle shakes,staring down at his hands. “I don’t need mind control to hurt ya guys. If I mess up..” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling. “ I.. I’m supposed to take care of you bozos.”

“Oh big guy.. We’re supposed to take care of each other.” This time not to be deterred. April wraps her arms around his large arm. It burns, but he can’t bear to shake her off, not after so long. “if nothing else, you and I promised remember? We would share.” Her eyes glimmer again with new tears.

(A lifetime ago, tucked away in a little corner away from where little brothers are sleeping.

A 11 year old and 10 year old lie nestled against each other. “Thanks for helping to get my brothers to sleep. Raph’s really sorry for this. They always get so fussy when they’re sick.” He grumbles, tucking his head between his knees.

The girl giggles. “Psh~ I already said it’s fine. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

“But I’m the oldest.” The boy protests.

“Uhh no. I’m the oldest. Im 11.” She rolls her eyes. Beaming “I’m always happy to help if you want?”

“Really?” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“Well duh,” The girl grins, not yet realising just how far she will go or the magnitude she will carry for her soon-to-be family. But her mum always said she could do anything. So she will endure, gladly for them. “What are friends for?” )

Seeing the lack of protest this time, Mikey and Donnie take that opportunity to pull away form each other and encircle their big brother on either side.

“We’re with you always raphie.” Mikey hugs.

“Yeah. Yeah What he said.” Donnie, opting to rest his hand against his older brother.

“You guys..” Raph sniffs, bending down to be closer to his siblings.

“My sons, my family..” Splinter stands and joining the rest of his family at last. They all turn to face him. “This past year has been hard on us all. With our blue..” The elderly man stutters, chest hurting. “-it will likely always be hard on us. Which is why more than ever we have to press in. I know I have not been the best father, but as the head of the household and the adult, I should have known better than to leave you all to your hurts.” Splinter kneels, dogeza style. “I am truly and deeply sorry. Please I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. No matter what happens, from now on I promise, I will do my very best to be here now.”

“Dad..”

“Pops..”

“Oh Splints.”

“I don’t normally feel things but that one got through.”

“Donnie really?” April chuckles weakly, rolling her eyes. The softshell doesn’t quite feel up to smiling yet, so he shrugs instead. Leo wasn’t here anymore. Someone has to do it.

“Cmon guys, Pop’s is right.” Raph huffs affectionately, he still doesn’t feel quite so comfortable to hug them all back. But he’s not pulling away and that means everything. “No more. We have to stick together.”

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” Mikey beams, wiping away the tears.

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” the rest of them echo back. Pressing closer to each other again.

“Wait.” Donnie stiffens, pulling away. “Angelo how long has your lasagna been in the oven?”

“My lasagna!” With a shriek and a jump, Mikey tears himself away from the group and races towards the kitchen.

He doesn’t get far, stoping just shy of the doorway when the Smoke detector goes off with vengeance. Followed by a BOOM! And the tell-tale glow of yellow-orange flames lick at the doorway.

“Orange! What did you put in that lasagna!”

“I don’t know! It’s never done this before!”

“The fire exstinghisher! Someone get the fire exstinguisher!”

“FIRREEEFIIGGHTTTIINGG LIKE A BOSSSS!”

“Wait! No no no! Raph! That’s the turbo mo-”

Peals of laughter break through the halls amidst the smouldering fire and smoke and clouds of demineralised water particles.

For the first in a long, long time the lair feels less a living tomb and more a home.

They think Leo might be proud.

<Prev | Next>

[snellyboi]

Today's the Day

A tiny vignette about David. When he's 16. I just wanted to write something sappy and a bit cliche. I PROMISE I will write a more in depth hilda thing soon because I have IDEAS

But for now a sappy schmaltzy story about David and Louise.

Today was the day. It HAD to be! I mean, c'mon, it had been a year since they'd met, and David was INFATUATED with Louise. He couldn't stop thinking about her - his bluesy rock band was getting tired of him writing songs about her and unrequited love. He HAD to do this now. It had to be today. The weather said it would be cloudy, but otherwise alright - chilly, but not too bad - Maybe a flurry or two of snow.

It was not that.

He'd read TOMORROW'S weather report. Not today's. Today? Raining sideways, chilly, roads freezing over, an insane amount of bad driving and bad decisions being made. His umbrella was so soaked water was getting through it. He grumbled a bit as he walked into class, sitting next to Frida.

"David!"

"Hi, Frida."

"Did you ask her yet?"

"Shh!" He whispered. "I'm going to..."

"After the test?"

"...after the what?"

Test? As in next week's test? He shivered with fear. He was doomed - doomed! He could barely remember his own name as the paper was slid in front of him. He wasn't...awful at Math. But sometimes he was. And man, was he awful at it today or what!?

He sighed as he turned it in. He sat back, and read a bit - A redwall book. He at least found some solace in that...

He walked to lunch, and tried to listen to some music, but saw-

HER.

He KNEW he would see her, she ate at the same time he did. Of course she would be there. And every day, he normally walked up to her and said hi just fine - but when you have something to tell someone, it's always harder to talk to them.

He sheepishly walked up, carrying his food with him. "Louise - hey, I-"

"David! I'm SO sorry but I need to work on a project with Hilda and Frida."

"...that is due next week, isn't it?"

"Heh, yeah...how's it with Trevor?"

"Ugh," David groaned, "he makes me do all the work!"

"Figures...I'll see you!"

David sighed as she walked away. He ate alone. Well, save for Trevor, who gave him more 'notes' (read as - stuff Trevor was supposed to do.)

Band class wasn't much better. He was lucky - he got to be in Jazz band - and things went pretty well! There was a long stretch where nothing happened, but it seemed alright with-

"David."

"...Mr. Thorne?"

"That last bit seemed a bit...empty, didn't it?"

"...well now that you mention it-"

"You're supposed to *solo* there, David."

Aww shit.

"...oh-"

"David, this is in two weeks! TWO! And you're still not even getting the changes right!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"We have to practice."

David thought about practice with his band, and the project, and the chores he had, and the other homework he had, and-

"Right. Sorry."

He huffed as he trudged to his next class. The last of the day - and thank GOD, nothing went wrong.

Well.

Until Hilda accidentally justted a chair out, and he managed to get water all. Over. his uniform.

"Agh! Sorry, David, are you alright?"

David looked out for a moment, giving off that silly, vacant stare he sometimes had. He shook his head.

"Oh, I'm alright." He said.

He brushed it off, but on the inside, he was seething. Everything was conspiring against him today - he looked outside as the weather got rainier. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked to the courtyard, music on, avoiding everything, until-

He saw her again.

"David!" She waved, from under an umbrella.

"Hey, Louise." He pulled his headphones off, around his neck. The rain was pelting so hard he felt like the umbrella he had wasn't doing anything.

And it wasn't. Because it turned inside out, and flew away from him.

Louise hissed in a breath through her teeth. "Yeesh, David...good day otherwise?"

"...no." David wasn't normally that transparent. Truth is, this wasn't even the worst day this week.

"Oh." Louise nodded. "Well, I had a good day. Frida and Hilda and I finished up that thing for history, and I managed to get tickets to that show on Saturday, AND I picked up a few days to walk twig, which...I mean. He's Twig. Who doesn't like walking him?"

"Well, that's good." David nodded, sheepishly. He smiled a little.

"There's that smile." She said, winking. "You and that smile...always on when a certain person's around, eh?"

...WAIT WHAT? WAS IT THAT OBVIOUS? HE THOUGHT HE WAS BEING VAGUE THERE-

"We all know how you feel about Frida."

HUH!?!

"It's alright! Must be awful, though, what with her being so into Hilda and-"

"It's you."

David wanted to jump into the sea when he saw the look on her face. He knew it shouldn't've been today. Why did he commit to today!? Why oh WHY did he-

"...me?"

"..." He nodded. "Yes." He shook his head. "I...ever since we met, but...I, uhm...I really think..." He scoffed. "Iiiit's melodramatic, but-"

"I like melodramatic." Louise crossed her arms. "Don't hold back." She added. "I can take it."

"...You...you make me feel..." He fought for the words. "you make me feel like a million suns are shining down at once. You make me feel like a wolf looking out at open ground to run on. You make me feel-"

She kissed him, once. Quickly.

"...Musicians. So good at saying, not doing. Just...do."

He hugged her and kissed her as she held the umbrella...

-

"Have a good day at School, David?" David's mother asked, as she heard the door.

David beamed when he got back. "The best."

[writella]

I completely understand and yes, you did explain that right! lol. My past two weeks have been really great! My birthday is tomorrow and today was not the best. My mom yelled at me today and I got so angry, plus I have a feeling this year, my birthday isn't going to be the best like it is every year. I'm turning 19 and I don't know what to do. I might crash at my friend's place.

Anyway, enough about me, how have your few weeks been! Besides homework and all!

Love you!

Noo :( I won’t pressure you for details, but I’m so sorry. Yelling, or even the littlest arguments with parents can be so hard because they feel most personal. I hope whatever it was, you can let it roll off your back or you can talk about it later. Staying alone for a while and then trying to talk about it later usually helps me, but I know everyone is different.

And omg your birthday, how exciting ♡ I will definitely make sure to wish you a happy birthday tomorrow! Im not sure why you’re feeling the way you do this year, but for me I’ve always had an off feeling about my birthday since I was young. Turning a new age can be scary and I think Ive always had this tiny bit of ever present sadness or fear in me. There is a part of it that I don’t understand, but then there is another part of it where I think growing older just makes me think about the experiences I didn’t have like other kids have or the things I wished I had but I don’t while time just keeps slipping away. Dramatic I know, but I write this to say that I hope you don’t feel so alone in your worries and it’s okay and normal for more people than we think to feel a little off about their birthday but also!! When I turned 19, I remember feeling so afraid, like I was on the cusp of loosing something since it was the last age that was going to have that -teen at the end of it, but as time went on during that year, especially in the summer, I realized that the year that felt like the big ending of something truly ended up being the start of understanding at least a tiny little bit, who I wanted to be. I do not know anything at all and I’m still confused and struggling with a lot but when I was 19, I started going to more concerts and in the summer I met two of my online friends after years of talking to them. Still some of the best moments because talking and going out has never been something easy for me but I did it!!

Again, I’m sorry you’re having doubts, but also know that those unknown feelings you’re having about your 19 year, could also bring in some positive moments that you haven’t even thought of yet. 💗

I think I totally took your feelings out of proportion and maybe it’s not as stressful as I decided to assume, but just in case I hope you found some solace in this. :) Also sometimes just wearing something pretty, and watching a good movie or show and ordering some food you like (and cake!!!) is always a good plan to me. You’re the part that makes it special.

Oh… and about my week lol. There is this girl I made friends with in my previous semester and we caught up again last week and she invited me to eat pizza with some of her co-workers this past Tuesday! First time I’ve ever been invited to do something like that which was super cool. Busy with school ofc but watching twd and moments like that help. 😌

[ramblestimesthree]

2/10/25

I can’t do my homework. I can’t do my homework when the words are blurry and the flashcards look like rocks and I’m actually going to have a breakdown over he paragraph long definition of irony our professor provided. Now that’s irony. There’s a ladybug on my side table and I wonder what’s the point of it all. The homework, the talking, the miles of fabric curled around me and the sand in my mules. I was so tired today that I thought I caught the flu - my muscles ache from the weight of it all. The weight of what though? Oranges? All piled up in a sack. The weight of shirt covering it up or all the things that I’m hiding from myself. I know the truth, I just can’t say it. How much do I know? I see the blood, see the bodies and the shirts and the little tiny rocks scattered around them all as if someone was about to start a seance or build an army of zombies. I’d fit right in. I hate how much we use pronouns and people in writing nowadays, hate it when I write about it myself yet that’s all I tend to think about. People. Their pasty skins and their eyes that can see, but never themselves. Eyes that can fit in. I don’t understand why I feel so separate but also the same - row upon row upon row of zombies making coffee or tea in the morning humming “The Saints Come MarchingIn” and watching the bluebirds outside their windows. The decaying skin flaking into their breakfast and not even caring one bit because they’re so stuck on their tracks, a train never leaving. It makes my stomach scuttle.

Do you think we are awake or asleep? Since when did it begin to matter? It’s nearly a full moon and I wonder what she will show us this time. Apparently we can count on ourselves but fuck I’m out of fingers, that is, if I had them in the first place. Count my fingers and toes and make sure they are all still there won’t you? Paint my nails brown or a deep purple that looks black in the dark. Darkening eyes and darkening polish - how do I process it all? Where do you end and I begin? A vine ever looping that solid brick house - the house everlasting storms and hurricanes and fires - is it worth it to last that long? Can vines grow flowers too? To remind us of our identity. The flipping of tarot cards - threes in a row, no cups in sight - the smell of grilled steaks with too much pepper and salt, cows and peaches and broken lawnmowers living the last of their days in the old shed out back. I am these things, the elephant, the markers bleeding through the page and ripped apart papers because the words just wouldn’t come out right. Write. Write it all out, get it out of me before it me gets it out of it. Does the order really matter or is it the meaning that really stings? I want to tell stories but they never seem to come out of me. One day. Two days. Three more.

I wanted to walk to school in fifth grade - it was less than a mile away and directly across from my neighborhood. That sweet sweet neighborhood in the middle of nowhere with a handful of grandmas who gave out full sized candy bars for Halloween. My mom said no and that was that. I would have sleepovers at my best friend’s house - we’d watch movies in the theater room till we fell asleep to them and her at would wake me up purring, begging for attention. Of course I always pet her. We loved movies - loved Edward Scissor hands and Despicable Me and Harry Potter. She was Alice from Wonderland one year, her sister Cheshire Cat, with handmade costumes from a mom who drew coloring pages of campers and bonfires and regular family things they shared together. They were beautiful and tasted of marshmallows. I still have drool on my chin from them. I was too much, I told too much and got in trouble for it. I had no idea hw much I was hurting you, al I knew was that you were a friend, a safe person and I thought that I was supposed to tell you these things. I’m sorry, sorry for the way your dad cut us apart with those same scissors we loved, the quiet hallways and friends who didn’t understand and the text messages I sent you afterwards hoping to reconcile. I’ve changed! I promise! But I still dream of those scissors and have learned that cops really love their daughters, even if another daughter suffers from it. Was I also your best friend? Why didn’t you come to the hospital? Was it because you were banished like Harry or was it because the words were stuck in you too? Where are you?

[mollykochblog]

FIT STYLING FOR VISUAL PRESENTATION

Session 1- 30/01/25

Today we had a super fun beginning class, we began by going round the group and introducing ourselves a bit. We then heard from the professor who told us about how she became to be a proof at FIT, her back story was inspirational and very unique and cool. Our 3 projects this semester are all group projects which I am really looking forward to as I am a bit out of my depth within this class as I feel it's slightly fashion biased. Our first one is to create an instagram photograph set, some examples include-

I have never done anything like this before, but I'm looking forward to creating 3D rooms and designs, working with real materials and at a larger scale than my laptop screen and sketchbook. In this class we looked into scaling and collage pieces, and used magazines to create our own. Focusing primarily on scale! Some examples include-

I began by looking few lots of magazines and ripping out large and tiny imagery, and background pages which I could use. I did various different rough compositions and then settles on using a plastic style barbie theme (pool style). I completed my piece at home that night and this is my final piece-

Some instagram room initial ideas-

Session 2- 06/02/25

Today we went through everyone's collage and gave feedback based off of scale, colour and Witt. Christine said my scale was outstanding and she liked the way I used a similar colour palette for all of my collage apart from gigantism of the big head top left.

Afterwards we got into groups for our first instagram room project who is me, Lottie (London), Danny (us) and Jeanne (France). we discussed all of our initial ideas and came up with a long list of collective ideas. (Psychedelic /optical illusions, Space, Under the ocean, Bedroom chaotic/private space, Restaurant, Salvador Dali room, City, Hospital, Jell cell, PO box,Severance tv show/office space, subway).

We got it down to our top favourite 3 ideas which was black and white optical illusions, white background with thick black pop art outline (https://japantoday.com/category/features/food/tokyo’s-amazing-2d-cafe-looks-like-an-illustration-but-it’s-an-actual-restaurant-you-can-eat-in), inside the subway 80s era (graffiti, orange seats, subway map), old office style (large computer, vintage lamp and lighting, minimalistic cubing and decor.)

Homework- collect some inspiration images for a rendering model of the subway room for next week.

Session 3- 13/02/25

Today we created a 3d model of our room and a rendered version on photoshop. We created a foam room and printed all sections of our room on paper and card to create a 3d design. This is my rendering 3d design-

Session 4- 20/02/25

Today we began planning our instagram room and assigning jobs to each other and collecting our materials. We looked for the boombox but couldn't find one so Lottie is going to try to find a really cheap one\free broken one. Danny is going to the history I=of the railway museum this weekend to take photos for our background as he majors in photography. We also looked for the window material and black paper to create graffiti as we can't spray paint. We looked for the orange chairs in the c building basement but we weren't allowed in there so we may have to use a bench and foam.

Session 5- 27/02/25

Today we began assembling our room to figure out scale and to see if our idea actually works. We began by finding walls for practice and we played them all down on tables to access it all properly. We played the print outs on top to figure out placement and we used tiny pins to pin it all in temporary place. We stood it all up to step back and view it as a whole. We figured out today that the bench was too big as there was the doors in between the two sides of chairs. We also realised that the scale of the door was too small which meant that when you were stood next to it the door was tiny so didn't look realistic. By next lesson, professor is going to figure out the dimension of our chair so we can begin assembling them and Danny is going to scale up the Blackwall so that the door is against the floor to make the scaling more realistic.

[dianxiacantastemolecules]

Um, so, I started writing one at like 4 in the morning. It's 4:48 now and I went on a huge tangent. This can be considered part one I think. I don't usually write fics, I'm mostly a poet so this will not be super coherent. But enjoy, I guess. I will sleep now and prolly write the actual tiktok part tomorrow.

.......

Buck is waiting in the Jeep to pick Chris up from school. Eddie has been busy lately, picking multiple shifts to cover up the whole /Texas/ expense in the last year. Fixing that house cut a huge hole in his pocket, and that's how they're here now. They live in the same home, work at the same place, sleep on the same bed - at a respectable distance, and take turns to pick and drop Christopher, who has the sudden teenage urge to try every single activity in the world. Buck stocks up the house a little extra every time he does grocery in order to help with the money. He hopes Eddie does not notice.

The school ended fifteen minutes ago, and Chris is nowhere to be seen. Buck is about to enter a mild panic state, when finally he spots his curly haired little guy with specs amongst the crowd. He has grown so much taller over the year, Buck gets misty eyed every time he realises it. Chris is with another girl from his grade, Rose, he remembers her from the parent teacher meetings before. 

Buck comes out of the Jeep to hug Chris, it's their daily little pick up routine. He's dreading the day he starts finding it embarrassing. 

"Heyy buddy. How was school today?"

"Just the usual. I have loads of homework though, now that the exams are close." 

"Homework sucks. Why do they have to bulk up the schedule towards the exams. It's like the teachers procrastinate more than us" Rose interjected.

"If you want, I could talk about it in the next meeting?" Buck replied naturally, not realising he could technically not participate in such complaints.

"Nah, it's fine. I'm used to it now."

"Hey Chris, where does your friend live? Should we drop her off as well"

"Heyy Buck, it's okayy. My home is close by, I usually walk till there. Thank you!"

"Buck, could you get in the Jeep, I'll come in a minute"

Buck went inside, although what happened next didn't escape the mirrors in his jeep.

"Goodbye Chris. See you tomorrow" Rose said, and kissed him on the cheek.

Buck felt a tad bit guilty of intruding on the moment. He made a mental note to let Eddie know of this development. He was vaguely aware Chris had a crush on the girl, but did not know when this happened. Perhaps Eddie knew already, perhaps they got together over the summer. 

"So, what else is up with school. Anything you wanna share?"

"Nothing much. Can you help me with the science homework. I can't get a hang of the balancing chemical equations"

"Sure buddy. We could do it tonight after dinner. Speaking of which, what do you want for dinner?"

"I was planning to go a friend's house actually. We talked about it at school. There's a group project coming up for English."

"Oh I see. Is the friend named Rose by any chance?"

Chris keeps avoiding his gaze and mutters a tiny little "yes" looking outside the window.

"That's cool. Let's call your dad once we go home and if he says yes you can go."

"Okay, sure."

"When did this happen, by the way? It's okay if you don't wanna tell me. I was just curious, you're growing up so fast, and I've missed you so much the last year. Just don't wanna miss on the milestones of my ki- of my superman." Buck said it in the most poor little meow meow voice possible. 

"Um, if I tell you about this you need to tell me one of your personal secrets as well. And you can't tell dad yet. I won't tell you if you immediately go report to dad."

"Okay fiiiiine. I won't tell dad. About my secret, hmmm how about...Hmm what can I tell you like that" 

"And don't tell me about your extremely obvious crush on dad okay? I don't know what you two have going on but I know you love my dad." 

Aaand Buck nearly crashed the Jeep. They were almost home. He did not expect this innocent line of questioning to come and hit him square in the fucking face. He was speechless for a good five minutes, and Chris looked smug as hell. He parked the jeep but neither moved out.

"I- I- I-, wait what are you-, Chris, this isn't-, It's not-,"

"Buck, you shouldn't lie. You're setting a bad example for me as my guardian." 

"Now now, I'm not lying. It's just something I haven't come to terms yet. Honestly speaking, I don't think I've said it out loud yet even."

"Oh. I really thought you knew. I am so sorry Buck. It's just, ever since we came back from Texas, you and dad have been... Different. I thought you both knew, or were close to talking about it."

"And is that something you're ok with, me liking your dad? Because if you don't, it's completely okay. I will leave this thought once and for all, Chris"

"Buck, calm down please. I just wanted to steer the conversation away from me. You know I love you right? You're my family, Buck. Whatever happens, you'll always be my family. And yes, I would love for you to date my dad. You're probably the only person I can imagine in that place."

"Buddy, you have grown up more than I realised. I love you too. As for your dad, I think it'll take me some time. I'm not so sure he likes me back. Or that he likes boys. I don't want to lose either of you. I'll be happy living like this until you go to college or until your dad finds someone new."

"Oh Buck, I wish I could show you how sad he was in Texas. I wish you could see the transformation on his face every time you called. You two are really one hell of dumbasses" 

"Chris, language. Your dad will be so mad if he knew. I missed your dad so much. Everyone here caught my crush too easily once they saw me moping. I really hope I never have to be away from the both of you" 

Buck was on the verge of tears. Hearing Chris talk about him like that. God, what had he done to deserve this beautiful kid. He wanted to call him his own so bad. His family, finally. 

"You are going to start moping again, and I am a little tired of watching you and my dad be sad individually over each other. You know what, I have a plan. You wanted to know how I started dating Rose right? I will tell you only if you try the same thing with dad"

"Okayyy... Is this gonna involve paper notes or something?"

"Buck, I'm 14, not 6. Open your Instagram. I will send you something."

.

.

.

.

PLEASE tell me there’s a buddie fic based on the kiss-your-best-friend tiktok trend, im begging

[veoq]

030224

slept thru alarm but woke up before noon, took meds. assembled last shelf. did a SHIT TON of laundry. mount laundry grows on my bed though…

crammed some homework before going into a quiz blind, but i passed anyway so nice. put away my sewing machine and fabric. bought some stuff off amazon. i just want to drink tea so bad so im excited for my beautiful cheap kettle.

watched some videos, tried coloring a bit but my eyes were crossing. talked to sister. caved and got some fast food. finally showered.

there was like a smell of dog piss coming from my room and i couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. finally realized it was the shitty candle i had burning. burned a different one so i dont have to smell dog piss anymore.

earlier today i heard a dog screaming outside my window, looked out and it was a small dog just screaming at the top of its lungs trying to fight a scared pittie, that was being carried by her owner away from the tiny terror. a lady came out to threaten the two owners which, like, lol.

talked to R to figure out a time for me to come over tomorrow to get the last of my stuff, got told yeah if i’m awake lol. seething. asked when they’re going to be awake, finally got an actual time. i think sister was right about them not respecting my time, especially since i have to drive 30 mins to their house. ugh. i’m tired of this.

overall: extremely tired, a little annoyed

[yesimwriting]

The reader seems to be really close to billy and stu , so it got me thinking , what if she had little rituals with them ... like kissing their noses or rubbing their backs , and what if she got possessive of them and in a game of 7 minutes in heaven ou something she just makes out with billy or stu ( bcs in order to be with dark murderous freaks you have to be a freak yourself ...i dont make the rules)

Like imagine billy : im mf special 😏

a/n omg?? i love this!! this concept is adorable :)) i got so excited i put off writing my lit essay lol, this became A LOT longer than I thought it would be lol 

also do y’all like first or second person narration better?? i definitely like writing first person more in chapter fics, but in drabbles/one-shots i change my mind all the time. I did a little of both here lol 

---

The pile of homework I've been working on seems like it'll never end. Like there will always be another packet that needs to be completed or another essay I need to write.

Something behind me shifts. The noise is soft and easy to dismiss, but my body turns instinctually anyways. After what happened to Casey, there's no such thing as being too sure.

With a sigh, my entire body eases as I realize what the source of the noise is. It's just Billy and Stu, magically appearing like they often do on my windowsill. Stu's already inside my room, sitting on the edge of my window, his feet firmly plated on the floor. Billy's leaning against it, his lower half still outside.

Normally, when they show up like this, I grin and urge them to come in faster. "What are you guys doing here?" The way Stu pauses and the look Billy gives me tells me that they weren't expecting that reaction. "I told you guys--not today. I have a ton of homework and like half my family is visiting. My cousins have no concept of boundaries because they're like seven and they barge in here all the time. They're also snitches, the last thing I need is them running to the kitchen and telling their mom that 'Y/n has boys in her room'."

Stu holds up his hands in defense as he stands. "Relax, we're just here for our goodnight kisses."

I turn, adjusting the notebook on my lap as I look at them skeptically.

"We'll leave right after if you want us to," Billy says, pulling himself up onto my windowsill.

Still unsure, I twist my pen between my fingers. "I will want you guys to." My tone is a little harsher than I want it to be. Stu seems a little tenser and Billy's expression clouds. "No, that came out wrong. It’s not that I want you gone, it’s that I’m trying to be practical.” 

"You didn't want us coming over earlier," Stu mumbles, something harsh behind his eyes, "And we barely saw you yesterday."

"Yesterday wasn't my fault. You two went out with Tatum and Sid." I adjust my hold on my notebook. "And I didn't want you guys over earlier today because of homework. Literally all I've done today is go to lunch with my family and homework." Their unease settles in my stomach like a rock. I sigh, pushing my notebook off of my lap. "Okay, come here."

At that, Stu breaks out into a grin. He crosses my room in a few long steps. Once he reaches me, he sinks into my waiting arms. I hug him tightly before he can decide that all isn’t forgiven, burring my face into the side of his neck. He's so warm and always smells so much like him. Like expensive fabric softener, a little bit of body spray, and usually a tiny bit like weed. On anyone else the combination wouldn't work, but on Stu, it makes me feel right at home.

One of my hands runs up and down Stu's back. He eases into the contact. The shirt he's wearing is soft. There's little I love more than Stu's well worn, rich kid T-shirts. I'm already plotting how to steal it from him.

I lean my head upwards, pressing a kiss against his jaw. His eyes flutter shut as I leave a trail of kisses up his cheek and to his temple like I always do.

Billy must have come in while I was distracted. He's lingering next to us, watching with a blank expression. I learned early on that while Billy hates asking for physical contact, he loves receiving it. If I had to take a guess, Billy's hesitance likely comes from his home life, but I'd never say that out loud.

"Okay, Stu," I hum, my nails brushing through his hair, "You're good." His hold on me tightens. "Stu, c'mon." With a bit of a pout, he straightens just enough to place a kiss on my forehead. He's watching me carefully, silently asking me for a few more minutes. "Billy's turn."

Stu frowns, looking like he's sincerely weighing his options. "Fine," he mumbles, placing one last kiss against the side of my head.

Once Stu lets me go, he slumps back onto my bed, laying across my mattress on his back. That does make me a tiny bit nervous because the more comfortable Stu gets, the less likely he is to leave.

I reach over, grabbing Billy's wrist. Gently, I pull him towards me. He lets me. Like always, at first Billy's slow before reciprocating with full force. He melts into my touch, pressing his face into my neck. My fingers trace patterns against his back.

"Missed this," I whisper the admission.

"We missed you, too," Stu replies, hand lazily reaching over for my extended leg. His fingers begin to trace patterns against the skin of my calf. I'd think that the motion was absentminded, but once when I asked him about it, he told me that sometimes he writes out things he wants to do to me. "Soon it'll just be the three of us."

This isn't a conversation that I love. The more they talk about the day where they feel like Sidney and the friend group are stable enough to handle two break ups, the less I believe that that day will ever come. Thinking about it makes me feel like a terrible person.

Billy, sensing that he no longer has my full attention, shifts. He moves impossibly closer, his lips grazing my pulse. I used to jokingly scold him for kissing my neck during times like this before learning that things like that aren't always sexual to him. It's just him at his most relaxed.

My fingers rake through his hair, smoothing it back carefully before placing a series of kisses across his jaw and up his cheek. My trail ends at his temple, like always. The realization that the moment's passing leads to him squeezing me tighter. There's something distinct about his touch today, maybe even a little nervous. That paired with how uncharacteristically quiet he's being leaves me wondering if this ambush visit is a result of something else.

I know he was supposed to do something with his dad this morning. Okay, I need to stop thinking about that before it starts showing on my face. He doesn't like when I worry, he's never said anything, but his hot-to-cold reactions make me think he misinterprets it as pity. If anything, what I feel is anger that I can't walk up to his dad and punch him the face.

"Okay," I hum, "You both got your goodnight kisses...and I have to finish this essay."

"It's Friday," Stu replies, his fingers moving against my skin in what kind of feels like the curve of a 'c'? I'd ask if I wasn't worried about the conversation and mood taking a turn towards something I can't control. "You have two whole days."

I exhale, nails gently scratching at Billy's scalp. "You're throwing a party on Saturday, and Sunday's our first fully free day in over a week. You two aren't going to let me get anything done."

Stu turns his hand, running his knuckles up my leg. "Not true, babe. I've got a whole to-do list for you."

Softly kicking my leg in protest of his joke, I roll my eyes. "It's better for everyone if I just get this stuff done now, especially since you can't sleep over anyways. My little cousins are never in bed when they're supposed to be."

"You can do your homework, Billy and I know how to behave." When I raise an eyebrow at that, Stu concedes, "Okay, we at least know how to entertain ourselves."

Yeah, that's not comforting.

"You guys aren't being fair. I don't remember acting like this when you guys literally went on dates yesterday." I drop my arms away from Billy, ignoring the pinch of guilt that strikes with no warning.

At the lack of contact, Billy sits up. I avoid his gaze. "Is that why you're kicking us out? You're jealous? Upset we're not giving you enough attention?"

"No, I'm kicking you out because there's a group of seven to nine year olds that are super nosy in my house. Especially when it comes to boys. Kennedy's in the third grade and in her crush phase and she's asked me about whether or not I have a boyfriend 50 times."

"Your mom lets us sleep over all the time," Stu defends, "We just need to tell her that our parents did something and she won't care."

My posture straightens in an attempt to seem more determined. "That's different and you know it. She always has you guys crash on the couch and you sneak up later. We can't do that with all my relatives in the house, and you can't show up to my house so late."

Stu doesn't normally see--or at least, doesn't care about--reason, but Billy tends to listen a little more. I look over at him, gauging his expression. I still can't read him as well as he can read me, but I know that the blanker his face is, the more emotion he's feeling.

They're both starting to seem a little weird, maybe a little hurt, and I hate it. I do miss them, I want them here, but it's risky for me. At the end of the day, if my relatives find out, they get to go home. I'm the one that will be in trouble until I graduate.

"Do you really want us to go?" Billy's voice is as flat and void as his expression.

The hollow look he's giving me hurts. "You know I don't." That eerie blankness doesn't go away. "When I lock the door, they just keep knocking until I open it. I guess that gives us time for you two to get into my closet or something."

With that, Billy eases. He's not exactly as relaxed as he was before, but it's a start. I lean forward, grabbing his hand. Stu sits up, shooting up to pull me into another hug. His grin feels smug, but I can't bring myself to call him out on it.

"That's our girl," Stu praises, kissing my cheek.

I press my lips together, fighting a grin. "Wait--there's a condition. You two need to let me finish this essay."

Billy lifts our intertwined fingers to his lips. "Deal."

"You guys are unbelievable." They both look at me expectantly. "Can't believe I'm basically risking my life because I can't go one night without having you two sleepover."

----

Going out with my friends has become extremely bittersweet. I love when the entire friend group's together, but there's just something about seeing Billy and Stu and knowing that things are different. Knowing that they're right there and thousands of miles away at the same time. It's not that we don't talk in public, it's that it's inherently different. And it makes me feel awful.

Each smile I share with Tate and each time I laugh with Sid adds another layer of guilt. It's so bad that both Billy and Stu have had to talk me down from breaking it off with them twice now after large group hang outs.

Whenever I freak out, Billy tells me that this is for the best, that after everything Sidney's gone through, he can't just break up with her while she's still dealing with trauma. The one stable, good thing in her life right now is our friend group. Stu and Tatum breaking up would endanger that as well. Even though keeping these secrets is morally wrong, they're always promising that this is the best way to keep everyone happy. Sid gets the support she needs, Tatum doesn't have to feel weird in the friend group, and we don't have to be heartbroken because of our right person, wrong time situation.

I'm not sure when they started taking a more preventative approach to the whole thing, but now, whenever we have group plans, they make a point of spending some time with me before. Just as a reminder about how they actually feel, I think.

They still haven’t stopped by, which I’m trying to not stress about as I tear my closet apart. Stu’s parties are always crowded and low lit, so what I wear isn’t the biggest deal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. 

After Billy and Stu left early this morning my entire family headed out so that my extended family could be dropped off at the airport. So now I have the house to myself, which is a good thing for when one gets ready. 

I play my music as loud as I want while I take an extra long shower and take my time putting on a face mask. I’m being a little extra about my getting ready routine, but I’m taking advantage of the space and the free time. 

Shrugging off my towel, I pull one of Stu’s old shirts over my head. I’ve had this one for awhile but it still smells like him. I shut off my music and throw open my closet door open. 

I grab yesterday’s jeans off from the back of my desk chair. I had half a mind to wear them again tonight, but they’re a little over due for a wash. My fingers dig through the pockets as I approach my hamper. There’s no change, but there is a tube of chap stick in the front pocket and a tiny slip of paper in the back.

Unfolding the scrap paper, I fold the jeans over my bent arm. Good luck on your math test - Billy. I grin, thumb and pointer finger pinching the torn piece of paper a little too tightly. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve found one of these notes, but each time is equally exciting. It started relatively recently, the appearance of tiny notes in places I’d never expect to find them. In between the pages of books, slipped into my pencil bag, tucked into my folder next to homework assignments, and sometimes directly written into my notebooks. And now, apparently, tucked into the pocket of my jeans. 

The notes range in levels of sweetness, some of them motivational when I’m stressed over something, and others a little more flirty. The one I found before this one was about how pretty he thought I looked while walking to class. They’re all well loved, kept in a shoe box under my bed for me to re-read whenever I need a bit of a pick me up. 

I go back to my closet, looking through my clothes to find something that looks like I’m in the party mood. If I’m being honest, after such a draining week, I think I’d rather stay home and watch some movies instead of being at a party where Stu and Billy are both going to be with their girlfriends. Normally, that’s not enough to get me out of the party mood, but that paired with how busy I’ve been this week doesn’t have me thrilled for this. At least Randy will be there. 

Sighing, I start sorting through my clothes, trying to get myself into a party mood. I’m sure once I have an outfit I like and I fix my appearance, I’ll feel better about this.

I’ve just laid out a few outfit options on my bed when I hear a few familiar taps against the frame of my window. Tamping down a grin, I look up, not even bothering to look surprised. Billy and Stu are already pulling themselves into my room.

“You know, I do have a front door,” I mumble, straightening the skirt I just laid out on my bed.

Stu dramatically sigh, stomping into my room before flopping face first onto my bed. “That’s the hello we get?”

I roll my eyes. “I was just saying.” Stu props his head up on his elbow, looking up at me with criminally soft eyes. I drop my gaze, reaching for the top that he’s now wrinkling. “And you’re messing up my outfits.”

He watches me as I hold out the shirt. “You’re wearing that?” 

“I don’t know,” I mumble, ignoring his tone, “I have a few options, but I was thinking this with the dark green skirt.” 

Stu rolls onto his back before reaching over for the skirt I’m talking about. He looks at it skeptically. “This skirt?” 

“Yep.” Stu didn’t sound too thrilled. “Why? Do you think it doesn’t match? Because I was thinking about that.” 

Billy pushes away from the wall he was leaning against. “It’s short, sweetheart.” 

I look at him oddly. It’s not insanely short, I mean, I’ve worn shorter. “Not that short,” my eyes look over the fabric that Stu’s still holding, “My mom bought it for me. It’s fine.” 

Stu drops his arm. “I’ve seen the way your mom dresses.” 

“Are you slut shaming my mom right now?” 

“No,” Stu begins lazily, “I’m just saying that that doesn’t mean the skirt’s not too short.” 

I didn’t even want to wear this that badly before. “Too short? You guys aren’t my dad.” 

“Well, considering what you call u--” 

“Oh my god,” I cringe, throwing my shirt in Stu’s direction. The fabric lands against his face. Stu ignores me, pulling it off of him. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a skirt.” 

“A skirt that’s going to have people looking at you.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I stare at anything but Billy as he approaches me. His hand clasps around my forearm, pulling me a tiny bit forward. “Looking at what’s ours.” 

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the possessive undertones of the words didn’t make my face feel warm. The hypocrisy, though, almost immediately dismisses that. “So I have to be all okay with you two literally having girlfriends, but the line is drawn at me wearing a skirt you guys think is too short?” He squeezes my arm. “Maybe I want a little attention, it’s not like you guys can give me any tonight.” 

Billy’s hold on me goes from casual to nearly painful. His knuckles turn white against my skin and I’m sure that if this goes on for any longer, there are going to be finger shaped bruises there. I meet Billy’s gaze. His eyes have darkened significantly. 

“So that’s what the skirt’s about? You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re not getting enough attention?” 

This is going downhill fast. I’m going to need to backtrack the hell out of this conversation. “No, I-I was just making a point. It’s a little bit of a double standard, you have to at least be able to admit that.” The lack of emotion in his expression turns my stomach. I force myself to hold his gaze. “It just sucks sometimes, going to these things and seeing you guys with your girlfriends, and then I feel bad about feeling like that because they’re my friends.” 

“They’re not our girlfriends, they’re a situation,” Billy’s voice is harsher than it’s ever been while directed at me, “You’re our girlfriend.” 

My eyes widen. Despite how close we’ve gotten, the actual ‘g’ and ‘b’ words have not been used. I know I���ve been tripping over myself to avoid calling either of them my boyfriend by accident. His hold hasn’t loosened, but I can’t help my grin. My head tilts to the side, eyes softening as I place a hand over his. “Girlfriend?” 

Stu walks up to us. I don’t realize that he’s moving until I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Of course you are, you’re our girl.” He extends an arm, somewhat playfully pushing against Billy’s forearm. “Old Billy boy here wasn’t supposed to just say it like that. We’ve been planning it out, we were gonna ask.” Stu doesn’t release Billy’s arm, “It’s all Billy talks about, might wanna ease off on the love spells, he’s obsessed with you.” Stu squeezes my shoulder, running his thumb across the skin. “All day, it’s ‘you think Y/n’s okay?, Y/n’s hair looked so soft today, we should go see Y/n.’” 

Billy throws a look in Stu’s direction, his grip on me loosening. I smile, “Really?” 

“Fuck off,” Billy mumbles, shoving Stu. “He’s the one that’s whipped. Sometimes he misses the smell of your perfume.”

I grin despite their odd tension. It doesn’t take much for play fights to turn into something else, something I don’t understand because half of it is unspoken between them. But I love this. 

“Okay,” I hum, probably a little too chipper as I step between them, “This is officially my favorite argument the two of you have had.” 

They’re both starting to move over to a different world that’s just theirs. I step forward, pulling Billy into a hug. After a second, he reciprocates. I shift, moving to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think about you a lot, y’know.” He’s looking at me calmly, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think there might be the faintest tinge of color in his face. 

“A lot,” he echoes, tone amused. 

I grin, nodding once, “Yes, don’t make it a thing.” The way the corner of his mouth turns upwards tells me that he’d be happy to have me spend the rest of tonight unpacking what I mean by that. I tilt my head, looking at Stu, “And you.” Stu’s eyes widen slightly as he waits for me to continue, “Sometimes I miss the way you smell, too.” 

Stu’s eyes narrow jokingly, eyes soft, “Really?” 

“Why do you think I’m always wearing your shirts?” 

He smiles, pulling Billy and I into a hug that thoroughly squishes me between them. Sometimes I wish everything could be as easy as it is in our little bubble.

“Okay,” I begin pointedly, playing up my annoyance, “Watch the hair, I’m still getting ready.” Before they can make anything of that comment, I continue, “Even though I’m my own person and I hate that thing where guys are all like ‘there’s no way you’re wearing that’, I guess there’s nothing wrong with taking into consideration how my boyfriends feel.” Saying that makes me so happy I can’t even bother to hide my grin. “How about a compromise--the jean skirt I wore last week and the top I threw at Stu earlier.” 

With a dramatic sigh, Stu drops his forehead onto my shoulder. “You’re going to make tonight impossible.”

He’s exaggerating a little, which is fitting considering sometimes it feels like all it takes to get Stu going is a look that lasts a little too long paired with the tiniest bit of exposed skin. “Sounds like a you problem.” 

Stu looks up at me, half glaring at me through hooded eyes. He lethargically smacks the top of my thigh, right where his t-shirt ends. It’s a testament to his easygoing mood, but I can’t help my dramatic gasp. 

“What?” Sometimes I think Stu would be insufferable if his smile wasn’t so cute. “If you’re going to be mean, I’m going to be mean back.” 

Okay, there’s a chance I am being a tiny bit mean. Did I pick the skirt that had Stu making up a super lame excuse during lunch just so he could get me into a supply closet for a makeout session I had to cut short? Maybe. Was it on purpose? ...I’d like to say no, but honestly, maybe. 

“Alright,” Billy interjects, “I know that look in both of your eyes, and we don’t have time for that.” 

He’s not wrong. I reluctantly pull away from both of them and go back to getting ready. We’ve fallen into a little bit of a routine. I go through my getting ready to go out routine, and they casually--or not so casually--look around my room. If that isn’t entertaining enough, they patiently follow me around. 

It’s kinda cute. Especially if I decide to wear makeup and they ask about whatever it is I’m putting on my face. One of these days I’m going to have to let Stu put eyeliner on me. 

By the time I’m almost done, Billy and Stu are still content with looking around my room. I have no idea what they find so interesting about my space, it’s not like it changes often enough to warrant their curiosity. But if it makes them happy to look through my bedside drawer and leaf through whatever notebook or book are left out on my desk, why stop them? 

Now that I’m dressed and have given my appearance a once over in the mirror, I’m basically ready. All that I need to do is figure out how to get the clasp of this necklace to just...

“You okay?” 

Billy’s sudden appearance at my side nearly makes the chain slip from my fingers. His steps are so quiet sometimes. Honestly, a little more practice and he could play a killer in a movie he’d love. “Yeah, there’s just something about putting necklaces on yourself that’s impossible.” 

“Here,” he breathes, fingers barely grazing my neck as he takes the clasp from me. Billy turns the necklace as he steps behind me. He latches the clasp with surprisingly minimal effort. Instead of releasing me, he adjusts the necklace so that the charm sits perfectly centered. Billy leans towards me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Stu, who was previously looking at a framed picture of me at some birthday party when I was little, turns his attention towards us. “Aw, how domestic, you’re like an old, married couple.” 

I turn just in time to catch Billy’s meant-to-be dismissive eye roll, but there’s the faintest touch of something else, something that might be a little flustered. It’s gone before I can be sure. 

 “We’re cute,” I agree, reaching for Billy’s hand to squeeze it once. “Okay, I’m ready, so you guys should go. I’ll show up in about half an hour, give people some time to get there so that nothing looks weird.” 

Stu frowns, setting the picture frame back in place. “It’s not that suspicious, we’re friends, you’re punctual.” 

I press my lips together. We have our rules in place for a reason, and talking about them too much makes me feel things I really don’t like feeling. “You know why I can’t.” 

Billy must notice my shifting mood because he cups my face. “You’re forgetting something before kicking us out.” When I don’t respond right away, Billy kisses my cheek. “In case you needed a reminder.” 

Of course. If there’s one thing Billy’s consistent about it’s our little traditions. At first, they were just excuses to be cheesy, especially when I was feeling a little insecure, but now, they’re more significant.

I tilt my head upwards, leaving a trail of kisses up his cheek. Stretching upwards, I then place a kiss on the tip of his nose. He then kisses my forehead. Our goodbye ritual. 

“Hey, I’m leaving too.” The fact that I’m surprised that Stu is already within grabbing distance makes me a little too aware of how tired I am. 

Pushing against the feeling that begs me to just stay here tonight, I beam at him. He lets me hug him. His hands find their way around my waist and I press kisses against his cheek until I’ve reached his nose. Stu tilts his head down to help me reach him. My body eases as he presses a kiss to my forehead. 

“Okay, you guys should go.” Shifting awkwardly and dropping my arms to my side, I tact on a half thought in hopes of making this easier on all of us, “Maybe some time alone will do me some good, help me get into the party mood.” 

There’s a brief silence, and then Stu steps back, “See you later.” 

“Yeah,” I say, a little flatly.

Billy’s eyes are trained on Stu, who just barely glances back. To anyone else, it’d come off as casual eye contact. A small feeling that’s little more than an itch at the back of my mind tells me that its the beginning of one of their exchanges. Or maybe I’m just on edge.

They approach the window, leaving like they always do.

----

Narrator’s POV

You never thought you’d want to kill Randy as badly as you do right now. One minute, the two of you are casually drinking, and he’s listening to a tipsy you summarize the plot of the latest show you’re invested in, and the next he’s trying to usher everyone into a game of 7 minutes in heaven. 

You swore you weren’t playing, even when Randy started complaining. No one will go for it unless they think they have a chance with someone as hot as you. Your no stood firm, even when other people started sitting in front of Stu’s guest bathroom.

All you wanted to do was be an observer. To sit next to Randy and to ignore the weird looks Billy and Stu took turns sending you from across the room as you finished off your beer. Instead, you had to watch Stu’s spin land on Tatum, and you had to watch him walk with her to the bathroom with enthusiasm. Those 7 minutes had you getting up to grab another drink that you nearly downed before getting back to your seat. 

That was what really set the night off. You had been pacing your drinks before then, wanting to keep the balance between being buzzed enough to be social and drinking enough to become messy. Stu stepping out of the closet with a grin and an arm around an uncharacteristically bashful Tatum pushed you right to that line. Billy ending up in the bathroom with Sidney next is what pushed you over it. 

It’s ridiculous, no one can fully control where their spin lands, but it was all too coincidental. Too perfect. 

And that’s how you ended up here. In a closet with Jonathan White from your second period. The same Jonathan White that’s always staring at your chest. You’re about two minutes into the most awkward small talk of your life while pretending to not notice his leering and clumsy, half thought out advances when the door opens. 

There’s no way that 7 minutes are already up, but you’re too relieved to question it. The calm feeling settling in your chest quickly disappears when you look towards the doorway. Stu’s leaning against the wooden frame, eyes cooly locked on you. 

“Dude.” Jonathan’s complaints die down at the back of his throat when Stu turns to look at him. You can’t fully see his expression, but despite how buzzed you are, you don’t miss his unexpected edge. 

“It’s my house, dude.” Stu’s reaction isn’t harsh in the way you expect it to be. It’s the calmness of his voice that cuts straight through you. “I can do whatever I want in my house, and you’re not going to stop me.” 

You’re not convinced Stu’s talking about his house. “Stu.” You have to bite your tongue to avoid blurting out that nothing was going on. Why should you clear the air? You and Jonathan were far apart, which is more than you can say about him and Tatum. “You’re drunk.” 

Stu ignores the touch of warning in your voice. He doesn’t even let himself look in your direction. It’s the only thing he can think to do to associate his anger with someone that isn’t you. 

“Whatever,” you breathe, deciding that the best thing you can do to diffuse the tension is to remove yourself from the situation, “I’m getting another drink.” 

You skirt past them, practically holding your breath until you’re fully out of the bathroom. No one’s sitting in that lopsided circle anymore. Whatever happened in those few minutes you were in the closet must have killed the mood just enough to end the game. Oh, well, you can’t say you’re too torn up about it. 

The alcohol isn’t settling in your stomach as comfortably as you’d like, but you meant what you said. You’re getting another drink. Maybe that will make you feel less like you’re balancing on the edge of a knife. 

You walk into the kitchen, frowning when you realize that the big cooler’s empty. It’s probably a sign from the universe to quit while you’re ahead, but you choose to ignore it. Instead of going back to the party and finding either Randy or one of the few familiar faces from some of your classes, you decide to go to Stu’s garage. You know for a fact he keeps extra beer in there. 

You step into the space, shutting the door behind you. The separation from the party is refreshing. A part of you regrets coming. Parties suck when you’re not in the specific mood for them. Why are you even here? To sit outside and listen to music that’s too loud while Billy and Stu hook up with their actual girlfriends while you down beer? You don’t even like beer that much. 

An idea latches itself onto your mind. You could leave. You could go home, change into pajamas, and pass out in bed. Sure, Billy and Stu wouldn’t be happy with it, especially considering the looks they gave you during spin the bottle, but you’re not happy with them. And why should you stick around in a setting you’re not in the mood for when they’ve been actively ignoring you since you got here? Obviously, they can’t get away with being all lovey dovey, but they could treat you like a friend. Or at the very least, not keep Sidney and Tatum away from you like you’re the plague.

Besides, all you’re going to do is go home and go to bed. If that makes them mad, then that’s their issue. Especially since they want to act all cute when they’re in your room, claim that you’re their actual girlfriend, and then treat you like you’re repulsive in public.

You’re interrupted from your fantasies of just walking out the front door by the sound of the garage door creaking open. You snap your gaze towards it and fight the urge to roll your eyes when you see that it’s Stu. You’re annoyed and tipsy, but still sober enough to know that the last thing you want to do is add any additional fuel to the fire. 

He walks towards the refrigerator without looking at you. The silence is starting to get to you as Stu opens the fridge. After a second of him looking around in there, Stu turns towards you. He’s holding your favorite drink. Wordlessly, he twists the cap off before extending an arm.

You blink once, slowly moving your hand to accept his offer. “I didn’t see these.”

Stu casually shrugs, shutting the fridge behind him. “Got them for you, Billy hid them in the back so no one else would grab them. Guess he forgot to tell you. 

The ‘forgot’ nearly makes you scoff. They both purposefully ignored you when you first got here and waved at them, and they’ve only looked at you to make you uncomfortable since. But you can’t say that right now. You’re tired and probably more drunk than him. Starting a fight isn’t something you can afford right now. 

“Oh,” you mumble, “Thanks.” You bring the drink to your lips, taking a slow sip. “Think I’m gonna go after this.” 

“Go?” Something flickers behinds Stu’s expression. “I thought you were staying over.” 

A sarcastic comment rises up your throat. After the way they’ve been acting, there’s no way he can think that your ideal ending of tonight is crawling into bed with them. Any bite in you dies down the second you meet his gaze. There’s no way to describe it. Unfeeling. 

“I uh-” You tilt your head, playing into your inebriated state. You shift back, which is all the excuse Stu needs to take two steps forward, practically caging you between him and a wall. “I had a little too much to drink and I’m not feeling great. I don’t think I’ll be a lot of fun, I just need to pass out in a dark room before everything starts spinning.”

He doesn’t look convinced or angry or anything. There’s something eerie about the cold indifference he’s radiating. “You wouldn’t lie to me, right, sweetheart?” 

You let your eyes drop to the glass bottle in your hand. You take a quick sip. “Was gonna ask you the same thing.” The mumble escapes you before you can think through your slurred words. 

Stu takes a step forward. You squeeze the bottle between your fingers a little tighter to avoid shrinking back. “What was that?” 

You look up just in time to see Stu tilt his head in order to regard you a little more cautiously. The last time you had a sub in your science class, they played a video about the structure of a predator’s mind and how they prepare to catch their prey. The way Stu’s eyes darken sends you straight back to that classroom. 

You can’t tell if the heat that rushes to your face is a tang of fear or something else. Or maybe it’s an uneasy combination of both. 

The door squeaks open again. Your head snaps in that direction, but Stu doesn’t look away. He doesn’t even bother putting a less conspicuous amount of space between you. 

“You two okay back here?” You let out a breath. It’s just Billy. 

“All good,” you manage just as Stu says, “She wants to go.” 

You keep your eyes focused on Billy, not wanting to think about Stu that way again. “I’m not feeling great and I’m tired.” The defense is weak, made even more pathetic by the slight pout of your lips. “Plus it’s not like you guys would notice anyway.” 

“What?” Billy’s question is oddly gentle.

The whiplash that gives you is nearly enough to make you drop the glass in your hand. You shut your eyes for a second, resting your head against the wall. Everything’s starting to feel a little too fuzzy. “You know what I’m talking about. At my house, it’s all talk about liking me, calling me your girlfriend, and then I get here and you don’t even want to be friends with me.” The blow up doesn’t make you feel better. The room is full on spinning now, you lean completely against the wall so that it can support your weight. Ugh, you know you won’t be able to handle their reaction. “’M tired, and I-I’m feeling weird. I think I should go to bed.” 

The quiet that follows has you fighting to not push past both of them in order to get to a bathroom. It’s shattered by Stu’s humorless laugh. His breath is hot against your jaw and it’s too much. “Aw,” he hums, his tone so sweet it circles right back to bitter, “She’s jealous, isn’t that cute?” 

You squint your eyes open. “Shut up.” 

“Why?” Billy asks, stepping further into the room, “He’s right. You think I didn’t see the way you were looking at me and Sid when we came out of the bathroom?” 

You sigh indignantly. “I’m too tired for this.” 

“But you weren’t too tired to be all over Randy or Jonathan White?” 

Your glare turns into something meek once you see the way Stu’s looking at you. “I wasn’t all over Randy, he was just the only person that was talking to me tonight because of you two. Neither of you even said hi to me and every time I tried talking to Sidney and Tatum, you’d come by and take them away.” The thought of Jonathan makes you sick all over again. “And I was nowhere near Jonathan White, and I’d never be willingly. He’s a total perv, and he made Shannon Walton cry before class the other day. And Shannon Walton’s the nicest, she always has gum and gives everyone her notes if they’re absent.” 

Stu doesn’t ease. “Don’t change the subject, you didn’t need to play.”

“You didn’t either,” you counter, “And I-I wasn’t even playing at first. I was just gonna sit in the room so I could keep talking to Randy, and then you two--” 

“So you only played because you were jealous.” Billy’s voice has taken on an edge that you don’t like. He continues, walking towards you with even, practically bored steps. “That’s not very nice of you.” 

They haven’t been very nice either, you think bitterly. “You started it.” 

The childish defense leaves the corner of Billy’s mouth turning upwards. “I’m not all over you for for 5 minutes and you get like this.” 

The dismissal makes your face feel warm. “Maybe we should give her a break.” The mocking in Stu’s tone strikes a nerve. “She’s just jealous.” You draw your eyebrows together, and Stu grins meanly. “You’re lucky green’s a pretty color on you, babe.” 

Chagrin fuels your reaction as you burst out a too confident, “’M not jealous.” 

Stu’s laugh is harsh, “You’re not?” 

Pushing down your instincts, you tilt your chin up a fraction of an inch in order to hold your ground. “Can’t be jealous because I know you two are mine.” 

At that, they both seem to still. You hold Stu’s stare until you no longer feel like you’re the one that’s trapped. The confidence is likely in your head and a byproduct of all you’ve had to drink, but it gives you the assurance you need to straighten your spine. Stu angles his head to the side and you’re not sure if it’s a good sign or not. To not panic, you extend your arms, resting them around his neck. The nails of the hand that isn’t holding the bottle trail down his neck. 

You can’t back out now. The way he’s looking at you changes. You can’t interpret his expression, which only puts you on edge more. He wants to be quiet, to dismiss you in one final, petty jab, but the more your nails dig into sensitive skin, the more he struggles. The nail thing’s a habit you developed after realizing how much it affects him.

“Watch the nails, sweetheart.” It’s meant to seem like a warning, but it slips out of him a little too low. He’s overcompensating to cover for what was almost a whine. 

You blink up at him through your eyelashes with maliciously soft eyes. “Starting to hurt?” He’s quiet, you scratch at his skin, hard enough to leave the kind of red marks that disappear almost as soon as they appear.

“This attitude’s cute, but don’t push it.” 

Everything from tonight hits you all at once as you tilt your head innocently. “Or what?” 

Billy knew that you were treading on ice so thin that even Stu couldn’t see the cracks since before you got here. That one comment you made before they left your place had been harder to deal with than Billy would ever admit. Stu pretended that he was fine with it, that he didn’t feel the strain of panic that comes from feeling like they need you more than you need them. And then you showed up here, as pretty as ever, and basically fine when they started ignoring you. And now this. 

It’s a slippery slope. The line between the amount of attitude that gets Stu going and the amount of attitude that pushes him towards something he can’t control is thin.

Billy steals the bottle from your hand and leans forward, grabbing your jaw with his free hand and pulling you into a kiss. It’s so sudden it takes you a second to relax into it. Once you finally do, a small sound escapes you. Billy deepens the kiss with no warning. You clumsily follow his lead despite how much they’ve annoyed you tonight.

He pulls away quickly once he’s sure that the energy in the room has been redirected, resting his forehead against yours. You don’t get the chance to recover. You’re still panting when Stu’s hand finds its way into the roots of your hair. He yanks on it, forcing you towards him. 

Stu’s kiss is hard and disorientating. You know that he has a way of being all consuming when he wants to be, but this is something else. You can’t take a full breath, but Stu doesn’t care. He doesn’t let you go until he’s done, and even then he takes his time releasing you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You’re dizzy and somehow even drunker than before. You reach for Stu unsteadily. He looks you over slowly. “You get her in bed and I’ll figure out how to start kicking people out.”

Billy places an arm around your waist. His lack of protest surprises you slightly, but you’re not complaining about it. You need his help, and Billy knows it. That, paired with the fact that this is the only time he has an excuse to publicly hold onto you, makes him love when nights end like this. 

He always has an excuse ready in case Sid or someone else notices. Y/n can’t handle her alcohol and she’d kill all of us if we let her go home like this. She’s gonna sleep it off in Stu’s room for a little. It’s basically true, and it also gives Billy the excuse to linger around you. There are a lot of people that’d take advantage of your situation. Sid can’t be mad at that, if anything, she’d be mad at him for knowing how vulnerable you were and not doing anything.  

Billy leads you into Stu’s room, abandoning your last drink on the first surface he finds. He sits you down on the edge of Stu’s bed before opening one of Stu’s drawers. “Here,” he tosses one of Stu’s T-shirts towards you, “You got it or you need help?”

Shutting the drawer, Billy turns back to you. You’re laying down now, not even under the sheets. “You can’t fall asleep like that.” 

“Mhm,” you mumble, face half buried into your mattress. 

With a sigh, Billy walks towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling on you until you’re finally sitting. With a bit of prompting, you stand. Billy watches you struggle for a second before sighing. He keeps you steady as you get out of your clothes and pulls Stu’s T-shirt over your head. 

You’re too tired to care about the fact that you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Bed now?” 

Billy cups your cheek, his thumb soothingly brushing against your skin. “Last time I let you pass out before washing your face, you made me promise to never let it happen again.” 

----

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when an unexpected pressure stirs you awake. Ignoring the feeling, you try rolling over in order to pull the covers up to your neck. Something doesn’t let you. 

“You’re up,” Stu whispers against your hair, “You’re up, you’re okay.”

Twisting so that you’re flat on your black, you squint your eyes open. It’s still dark, so you know it’s still night time. You don’t remember exactly how you got here, but you know that you were comfortable. You also only vaguely remember the weirdness and your anger from earlier. 7 minutes in heaven thanks to Randy, a bit of confrontation in the garage. It feels less important now. 

Smiling, you slowly extend your until your knuckles are brushing against his cheek. “What time is it?” 

“Late,” Stu answers. 

“Then wh--” 

“Need my goodnight kisses,” he breathes, pressing a few, quick kisses to your temple. 

You smile, “Thought you were mad a--” 

Stu’s fingers squeeze your hips. “Don’t want to talk about that.” If you were less drowsy, you might have jumped a little. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Nodding you reach for him a little steadier now. Stu relents, leaning into you as you start to kiss his cheek. 

Billy’s hand finds your waist just as you start relaxing again. “What about me?” 

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hey so I just found your account and omg?? it's literally so amazing 😭✋

Anyways-I was just looking through a bunch of the twist monster au headcannons/stories, and I thought of a scenario that could be done!

Basically the cast reacting to gender neutral or female reader/yuu acting stuff out in their book they are reading like poses, dialogue, just genuine reactions to the text itself

ex. Throwing the book across the room and them being genuinely concerned that something happened bc reader is just staring off into space or cursing but what actually happened was either a character died/did something embarrassing/the mc and love interest finally kiss

Anyways that's all I had in mind hope you have a good day/night! <3

Omg thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the content! QvQ

Ah, books. Such a wonderful creation humans made to fill us with raw, pure emotion or shattering our hearts and souls into a million tiny pieces—only for us to read it again and again! Don’t you just love those moments as a reader? UvU

Except for cliffhangers. Readers have a love/hate relationship with it, writers adore cliffhangers! ÒvÓ

So, what happens if we take a bookreader!Yuu (they/them) and throw them into Twisted Monsterland where even the history books read like a world guide/omnibus to a game or TV series? Oh, and I took a bit of inspiration from a Disney princess comic and a Bill Watterson “Calvin and Hobbes” comic for two of these scenarios. 😂

/-----------/

“Jeez, you sure you’ve got enough books, Yuu?”

“The librarian wouldn’t let me check out more than ten at a time,” Yuu replied, their backpack and arms filled with thick books. “Wish I could’ve gotten ten more at least, but this’ll do for now.”

“Are you sure you can even read all those before next semester?” Deuce asked in concern. “Those look pretty…dense.”

“Oh, I’ll be done in a week. Maybe a week and a half if we get a lot of homework.”

“Funya?! You gotta be kidding me!” Grim said. “Can humans read that fast?”

“Not everyone. Some people are slow readers, but that’s okay since they enjoy it at their own pace while I enjoy it at mine. Only problem for me is choosing which one of these I want to read first!”

/Later that night/

“Yuu? It’s time to eat!” Grim called out. Silence greeted him as he stared at Yuu, who was sitting on the couch with their face practically buried in a book. Frowning, the chimera padded over to the couch and repeated, “Yuu! I’m hungry!”

Still the human didn’t seem to respond, their shoulders hunching as they turned the page.

“Yuu? Yuu!” Huffing, Grim crossed his arms as he glared up at them. “You’ve been reading for the past three hours! How much longer are you gonna read that book?”

“What’s going on, pal?” one of the ghosts asked as the trio appeared.

Gesturing his paws at Yuu, he said, “They’ve been reading ever since we got back from the library today, and now they’re not reactin’ to me. It’s dinner time and they haven’t made any food yet!”

Before anyone could even think of what to say, a loud, shrill squeal filled the dorm.

“Eeeeeee!!!” Yuu squealed, a huge grin on their face as they flopped to the side and kicked their legs like a nervous rabbit while holding the book against their chest. “Omg it happened, it happened!!”

“Mrah!? What?! What happened?!” Grim yelled, wings flared out defensively while his fur bristled. “Why are you yelling!”

“My new OTP!! They finally kissed!!” Yuu said, their eyes wide as they rocked from side to side. “They kissed!! Yes!! Yesyesyesyesyessssss!!!”

“OTP? What’s an OTP??” one of the other ghosts asked.

“It’s what we like to call the ‘one true pairing’ in a story,” Yuu explained, a positively giddy expression on their face with eyes shining brighter than the stars as they struck a dramatic pose. “It’s two characters who vibe with each other on a level that you just can’t help but want them to be together—and the author brought these two together!! Yeeeeeeeee, I’m so happy!!”

“And loud,” Grim grumbled, paws clamped over his ears. “Why are you standing like that?”

“It’s how the main character professed their love for the other!”

“…are all humans as weird as you?”

“Trust me, there are people out there that are way crazier in their excitement than I am right now.”

“Really?!”

“Oh yeah. Don’t even get me started on the fanfics people write.”

“Fan…fics?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child…”

/Two days later/

“Heeeey, lil’ Shrimpy~!”

“Mm…”

“Eh…? Hey, Shrimp…why are you ignorin’ us? It’s not very nice.”

“Now, now, Floyd. One mustn’t interrupt a reader when they’re indulging in such a riveting story.”

“Shh,” Yuu muttered, their brow furrowed as they hunched closer to the book. “I’m at the best part!”

Floyd frowned as he laid his head on his arms, the basilisk slumping against the table. “Man, this is lame,” he said. “You promised to come play basketball with me today!”

“Once I finish this part, we can go do whatever you want, okay, Floyd?”

Jade hummed in amusement as he said, “A rather daring proposition you just offered, Yuu.”

“We have to do a buncha reading for class anyway,” Floyd said with a bored expression. “And Crabby and Mackerel said you finished two other books already, so what’s the point of thi-”

“AAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!?!?” Yuu shrieked, leaping out of their chair as Jade and Floyd recoiled in shock. Before the twins could react, Yuu had ducked back into their chair and pressed the book even closer to their face than before.

“…lemmie see that,” Floyd said, leaning over the table to grab it.

“No, no! It’s fine, go do something else!” Yuu said all too quickly, sinking even lower and turning away from Floyd’s reaching claws. “I think I heard Riddle in the hallway.”

“Lemmie see it!”

“No! You can’t read it!” Yuu cried out, bolting away from the table holding the book tight to their chest.

“Get back here, Shrimpy!”

“Noooo!!”

“Oh my,” Jade uttered, eyes wide for a moment before he chuckled. “Perhaps I should look into this book when they’ve finished it.”

/The next day/

“Oh no…oooh noooooo, I hate this so much!”

“Then why are you reading it?” Jamil asked, the naga curled around them. “If you don’t like it, just take it back to the library.”

“I can’t! It’s soooooo good!” Yuu said, practically throwing themselves backwards onto Jamil’s snake half with the book pressed against their face.

“Eh? But wait, you just said you hated it,” Kalim said in confusion.

“I hate it, but I love it so much,” Yuu told them with a whine, their head now touching the floor on the other side of Jamil’s snake body yet still draped over him like a cat. “This book will ruin your heart and shatter your soul into a million pieces!...you should read it too!”

“Given how dramatic you’re being, it might not be wise,” Jamil said with a sigh.

“Read it!”

“It’s okay, Yuu. We can read together! It’ll be more fun that way!”

“Kalim, no. You still need to study for the next potions exam.”

“Augh, I need someone to talk about this story with so we can lament in solidarity!”

“…have you been taking lessons from Rook lately?”

/Three days later/

“Um…is Yuu okay? They’re looking a little…tense.”

It had been several days since Yuu borrowed a stack of books, and already they had gone through nearly half of their hoard. Between classes and on breaks or after finishing tests, it wasn’t hard for students to notice the lone human with their nose between the pages of one book after the other. Even the researchers had taken note of Yuu’s behavior in between tests, making note of their expressions and how their body changes with each scene depicting their emotions. It was noteworthy how they reacted when a character in the story did something “cringeworthy and stupid” (as Yuu would explain when asked), it looked as though the human had swallowed a lemon.

At the moment they were sitting in Heartslabyul, yet another book in their arms as they sat on one side of the lounge. Cater had taken progression snapshots of Yuu’s body slowly curling into itself, eyes steadily growing wider and wider to the point it looked as though they’d bolt away in panic.

“They’re fine,” Grim told Trey as he munched on a snack. “They’ve been like this since they got all those books. That’s the pose they had last time when their Ohteevee smooched or somethin’.”

“Oh, you mean ‘OTP’, Grimmy,” Cater corrected with a smile. “That’s so cute! Our human has an OTP already~!”

“I’ve heard of hitting the books, but this is ridiculous,” Ace commented with a sigh. “They’ve been reading so long that I forgot what half their face looks li-”

“GRAAAAH!!!!”

SLAM! Fwump!!

“Gyah!?” the boys yelped, everyone staring at Yuu as they sat on the couch with a dark scowl.

“Yo, what the heck? Why’d you throw the book like that?” Ace asked, pointing at the large tome on the other side of the couch now.

“Um…Yuu?” Deuce began when they didn’t respond. “Are…you okay?”

“……I’m mad,” came the response, Yuu’s expression growing more annoyed as they stared off into space.

“About what?” Riddle asked in surprise.

Yuu’s gaze turned to the discarded book, their expression as though they had been betrayed by a trusted friend as they said, “Because my favorite character died, and I refuse to read how the book ends when there’s literally two freaking pages left! That’s not enough space to bring them back in a satisfying way!!”

“Y…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “That big of a reaction just because a fictional character was killed off?”

“You weren’t there to see the struggles they went through! I saw them change from an annoying bully into a fully developed and vulnerable character who wanted to take charge of their life—and the author killed them off!” Jumping to their feet, Yuu marched towards Ace and Deuce’s room where they’d left their stuff and said, “Where’s my notebook? I need to fix this!”

“What are you gonna do?” Grim called out.

“Write a fanfic, because my scrunkly deserves to be happy!”

“Huh? Scrunkly??”

/Final day/

“Oh, Great Seven…what happened in your book this time?” Vil asked with a sigh.

Yuu sniffled as they tried to dry their tears, though it was difficult as more continued to flow down their cheeks. “I…I just finished my last book,” they said, their voice cracking a little with emotion as Grim pat their arm reassuringly.

“All ten books in a week?” Vil said in surprise. “That’s…impressive. Even so, why are you so upset? Was the story that horrible?”

“No…it…it…it was too good!” Yuu cried out, clutching the book so tight that their knuckles turned white as the tears flowed freely now.

“Ah…such pure, raw human emotion,” Rook crooned. “To express it so freely without fear…beaute!”

“Was the book really that good?” Epel asked.

“Yes!” Yuu wailed. “Now that it’s over, I…I don’t know what to do with myself now…”

Peering at the title, Vil gave a thoughtful hum and said, “Oh, that story. I hear there is supposed to be a spin-off book series. The first one should have released just the other day.”

“Really?!”

“Mrrr…now you’ve done it,” Grim grumbled with a sigh. “Here we go again.”