#Not so good with mechanical stuff which is going to make the next Ask an awkward follow-up but boy howdy I can talk about animal behavior

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

[rixsjwb]

!⋆.˚✮lucky fish.

toji x deaf f!reader

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro, who sometimes forgets your deaf, so he calls out to you and wonders why the fuck you aren't turning around, but then it hits him.

"y/n?" toji calls out to you. wondering why you hadn't come up to him yet with his typical kiss and hug after a hard day at work, working as a mechanic. he drops his toolbox at the front, walking further down your shared home, seeing you in the kitchen cooking up a dinner he knows will satisfy him, as he calls out you again, you remain silent.

his hands above him lean on the non-existent door entrance to the kitchen. he watches with softness in his eyes as you work completely unaware that's he's come home. but the clock on the electric stove you both bought caught your attention, seemingly noticing how this was the time that toji came home. You turned around, startled a little as you didn't notice he was home at all.

you place the tomato and knife down, washing your hands before drying them and heading towards toji to give him a hug. as you sign to him,'welcome home' a soft smile on your face as you head back to the counter where the cutting board lied. you feel tojis broad chest behind you, his hands coming in contact with your waist as he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, his head resting on top of yours.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro, who pulls you to sit down in his lap in front of the small space given from him manspreading on the couch.

as toji sits down on the couch, manspread with his hand resting on the armrest of the couch, remote in one hand. he watches as you walk past, seemingly adjusting the pillows to look good on the couch. He's quick to pull you by the hem of your oversized t shirt, and you plop right on the small space given between his legs. the valley of your ass caressing his bulge as his large veiny hand engulfes your entire stomach, rubbing it.

his hand on the remote, losing grasp of it and heading to your head to turn on your hearing aide, that often keep off, for no particular reason. his hand ruffles your hair. "What'r you doin' mama?" he asks. to which you respond natural "cleaning up the place a bit." You send him a soft smile that always endearing to him.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro, who takes advantage of the fact you can't hear to get you expensive stuff.

you and toji were roaming around the mall and spotted a jewelry store. the items there looked like they had a price range of 1000 and up.

you never liked when people got you expensive gifts, because growing up you never had the money to get people something worth alot money wise. so when you see toji leading you by the small of your waist there, you gently hit his beefy biceps signaling not to go in there.

and lucky for toji, you didn't wear your hearing aid, so he could be buying something worth 1 billion dollars and you wouldn't know🤫

let's just say when you left the store with a beautiful swan necklace and till this day you still don't know how much it's worth.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro, who would definitely tell deaf jokes of some shit.

you were in bed still admiring the swan necklace toji had gotten for you, when tojis comes out of the bathroom. towel around his next his hair still dripping with droplets of water but he had grey sweats and a tight black shirt on ready for sleep.

as he's drying his head he murmurs to himself before speaking up "what'r you makin' tomorrow f'dinner doll?"

you send him a hum, not fully catching the question, as you go on to repeat his question to confirm its what he said he cut you off sassily. "gosh are you deaf? I said what are y'gonna make for dinner tomorrow." he says rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. you let out a airy laugh at the tone of his voice, your smile dropping at the wors deaf as you roll your eyes at what hes implying trying to hold back a smile knowing his saying was clever.

you watch as he smirks at you a low yet playful chuckle coming from his baritone voice.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro, who learns sign language for you, in case you don't have your hearing aide on.

you and toji are taking a stroll in the park. Despite the complete silence in your ears, it's still a peaceful walk.

you don't notice tojis asking you a question to how he didn't grab your attention. but when you feel a finger wrapped around your waist, tap you in a way that felt like he wanted your attention. You look towards him.

he silently grabs your head gently, his hands running through your hair to feel the hearing aide, and when not finding it, he signs to you,'You wanna get food to eat after this?' You're taken by shock. You never knew he could do sign language. it explains alot, you vaguely remember catching toji doing hand signs in the living room on multiple occasions, but because you only caught him doing it when his back faced you you couldn't full grasp what he was doing.

a wide grin is what you flash toji with after that surprise. as you nod your head egarly, neslting your head into his meaty biceps to show your love and appreciation.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ toji fushiguro who goes to sleep and wakes up thinking he's the luckyest man in the world. out of all the fish in the sea, he's a lucky fish to be with you.

[wosoragebaiter69]

why would you train?

barça femeni x young!reader

prompt: i feel sick, i love sickfics. that’s it. it’s my symptoms into a story because it’s my only coping mechanism.

A/N: my friend made me sick and i’m acc annoyed now like wtf. i feel horrible.

TW: mentions of illness

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

When you wake up, it feels as if someone has ran you over with a bus and drove back to do it again. Your throat was sore, your head pounding and you overall felt lethargic. The worst thing was, training was today and no matter what you’d have to go. That’s probably not true, but its been like that all your life with trainings, why stop now?

Getting through the morning was a challenge, you hoped that if you had a throat lolly and paracetamol that everything would go away and the day would roll by smoothly. How wrong you were to think that.

You arrive at training around 10 minutes late due to traffic, which meant doing extra laps. You’re glad though, it means the others haven’t realised yet. You joined at 17 and the older girls really took you under their wing and essentially adopted you. In particular Lucy and Keira. You lived with the couple until around 7 months ago. You’re 19 now.

After completing the laps assigned by Alexia you make your way over to where everyone else is and give them a half-hearted smile before apologising to Alexia. She seems content and Jona starts to explain the main plans for training. Sprints, conditioning and a scrimmage at the end. You internally groan, this was the worst day to be sick on. You just nod along with your teammates and start warming up.

Keira jogs over next to you and examines your face.

“You alright? You seem a little on edge.” She asks softly.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You say a little too quickly, before running off at a faster pace.

- - - - -

After an hour or so, you feel lightheaded and start swaying before sitting on the ground. It seems the medicine did nothing to help and the previous numbness of your throat has now subsided and is replaced by the feeling of daggers. Mapi comes over sitting next to you, passing a water bottle.

“Are you ok?” She asks as you wince drinking the water that’s burning down your throat.

You nod slowly, not willing to speak but the movement only makes you feel like collapsing.

“Can I… go get someone? You don’t look too good cariño.” All you can do do is lean into her side, exhaustion taking over as your muscles ache. She makes hand movements.

Ingrid walks over along with Keira and Alexia, you notice Lucy speaking with Caroline. But still keeping a cautious eye on you from across the field.

“Hey elskling, you don’t look too bright.” Ingrid crouches down blocking the sun, which you’re eternally grateful for.

“Eh.” You shrug, looking at Keira, then Alexia and back to Ingrid.

“Mind telling us how you’re feeling? And do not lie.” This is one of the first times you’ve heard Ingrid be stern, it scares you in a way so you do as told.

“Sore throat, head hurts and feels weird and my muscles are sore.” You say, clearly in pain and your voice croaks slightly.

“Why would you train? Or not tell anyone?” Alexia asks. You shrug. “Alright, go home with Keira and get better ok? Next time you feel sick you don’t come to training understood?” You nod and Keira wraps her arm around your shoulder, Mapi holds your waist and they lift you up so you’re standing.

They take their time taking you to the car, running to the locker room to get Keira and your stuff and coming back.

“Gracias Mapi.” You whisper to the defender who pats your head and walks back to training.

“When we get back you can shower, I’ll make some food and give you cold medicine, I’m not going to ask if that’s alright with you because this is just the start of what you need to feel better.” You half smile and lean against the window looking at the bustling Barcelona.

- - - - -

When arriving home, Keira helps you out and gives you some of your old clothes you still had at the house. You take a warm shower which helps your pounding head, this takes your mind of everything for a couple minutes.

After the shower you slowly make your way to the couch and plop down, almost falling asleep.

“Nope, no sleeping. I’m giving you a throat sweet to hopefully ease that pain of yours and did you take any meds this morning?” She asks.

“Paracetamol.” You whine.

“Alright, Ibuprofen it is then. Come on take these, then you can sleep however long you need.” You do as she says, and start falling asleep almost immediately as the pain starts to fade.

She lifts you up and takes you to your bedroom from when you lived here and tucks you in. Saying something about lunch, but you’re too tired to understand.

- - - - -

You’re woken by someone whispering sweet nothings in your ears, you lazily open your eyes to find Lucy moving the hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“Good afternoon, Keira made soup. Are you feeling up to walking outside or would you like to stay here?” She asks, speaking in the softest and quietest voice she can muster.

“Outside.” You murmur, voice even hoarser than before, Lucy cringes at the sound.

“Alright, let’s get you up then.” You slowly follow her movements and she helps you walk to the couch, Keira is there along with Marta and Caro. There’s soup on the table and there’s only one person it could belong to.

Lucy places you down on the couch and you subconsciously lean into Keira’s comfort.

“Alright bug, I’m gonna get you to eat all this soup alright? I’ve also made some tea which should hopefully soothe your throat a little bit more.” You nod, too tired and too sore to do anything else.

Keira feeds you the soup and watches as you wince slightly every-time you swallow, she saddenes at the sight.

“You’re doing well, only a couple more bites love.” She whispers.

After you’ve eaten it all, your throat is still sore, your headache has gone away for the most part but the sore throat just never seems to leave.

“Nena, how bad does your throat still hurt?” Marta says, turning her focus toward you after whispering with Lucy.

“Worse than before.” Your voice rasps and it pains to speak, the girls understand perfectly well.

“Alright, we will look after you until you’re better. You should have another one of those throat soothers. That should hopefully ease your pain a little bit.” Caro says, moving to place her hand on your knee. You smile in agreement.

Over the next 2 days they look after you until full health. It’s nice and you endlessly thank them for their caring natures.

- - - - -

ok guys i need ur help, i got a request for aitana x ona and i’m not sure whether to post on tumblr or ao3 🤷 also if anyone can tell me how to write about 2 people my messages are open

anyways hope you enjoyed, my throat is killing me. stay safe friends 🕺 i have 2 more requests sooo plz request

[cheriladycl01]

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 2

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

After you'd spent the week at home you travelled to France, you asked McLaren to set you in a different hotel from the other drivers. You found one that was cheaper and still within a decent distance from the race track.

Your sisters in your groupchat that didn't have your bothers in, had texted you telling you Lando was getting worried you wouldn't be showing up for this race. It was Thursday and normally drivers would come to the paddock for media duties but when he came it was just him doing stuff for the F1 YouTube and being pestered by the McLaren social media teams for content.

"Zac where is she, you guys wont tell me and I'm worried she wont be here for practice which starts in 20 minutes!" Lando asks Zac whose in sat in hospitality having a pre-race coffee.

"As far as I'm aware, she's already in her car getting ready for the practice session ... so I'd get yourself down there now so you can get a good time Lando" he smiles, Lando rushed to the garage Zac slowly trailing behind him, wanting to get to the garage to get a set of headphones and sit with the race engineers.

"Y/N can you hear?" you hear through your in ears.

"Loud and clear, let me know when i can leave the pit" you say shuffling down in your seat to test the pedals.

"Nico, the pedals are feeling a little stiff, its like there's no traction" you complain as your directed out onto the pit lane.

"Okay, just do a slow lap, testing the breaks and make sure the throttle is all okay. Then we'll see if we need to bring the car in quickly before a flying lap.

As you'd gone round on a normal lap, it was determined that there was an issue with the breaks, the minute you'd tried to do the flying lap your car had major under steer. You'd managed to keep it out the gravel but you had spun out. You were called back to the pits and only placed P16.

You slammed your wheel onto the bonnet, and the engineers all immediately started to work on your car. You talked with them helping them out.

You spied Lando's car in the corner of your eyes being pulled into his half of the garage.

"Y/N hey" he says jumping out the car pulling him helmet off.

"Kinda busy trying to fix this trash can of a car right now Lando, later" you say not even sparing him a glance. Grumbles come from the mechanics making you whisper an apology as they jokingly scowl at you.

Was it petty that you weren't speaking to your brother, yes.

Was it petty that you were trying to get him to have a spoon of his own medicine for the way he'd treated you in Azerbaijan, yes.

Were you going to stop right now? Nope!

"Oh, erm okay well I'm going to go grab something to eat before the next practice" he smiles.

"Cool" you nod a smile, before kneeling down pointing something out to the mechanic that didn't look quite right.

"I'll be back in a bit, will the car be ready for FP2?" you ask.

"Should be, just needs some greasing and tightening. Trust us you'll be flying out there in no time!" the head mechanic says and you smile nodding softly before walking out towards the rest of the motorhomes.

You walked past, shyly waving to the drivers she encountered. Sky had seen her but were already busy interviewing Christian Horner and Toto Wolff who were currently talking about the championship this year and Mercedes rough start to the season in Bahrain.

"Y/N?" a voice asks from a table outside the Red Bull hospitality.

"Oh! Max, hey how have you been" you exclaim crossing over the Sky cameras who unbeknownst to you followed you for later review. You pull him into a hug, happy to finally see someone on the grid who hadn't upset you in the last few weeks.

"I'm good but i think the actual question is, are you okay?" he asks rubbing up and down your arm.

"Yeah, I just don't really know how to even talk to Lando about all of this, he's never not been there for an achievement of mine up until now. The team's strategy was shit, and I got us more points passing Lando, i was on the fresher tires, I had DRS i don't understand why they wouldn't want me to overtake" you complain, you really genuinely couldn't understand it.

It wasn't like this in Formula 2.

"You'll come to learn, that people don't like being my team-mate because im golden boy. I was the hot shot that Horner took a gamble on and he won jackpot. It's never easy being the second driver on a team to a golden boy" he advises, making you look down tears in your eyes.

Is that all Zac thought of you? The secondary to your golden boy hot shot brother.

Well that just wouldn't fly, you'll show them that your made of more and that you are worthy of sharing the seat with your brother.

"You know, keep it up Schat, Horner's been keeping an eye on you. So have Mercedes and Ferrari" Max whispers leaning in and holding your waist. You gasp as he leans back looking at you nodding before wandering off and into the Red Bull motorhome.

You check your phone for the time seeing that you really should make your way back to the McLaren garage to see if your car is ready.

"We didn't talk" you hear from behind you and a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back to them.

Charles

"I don't want to talk to you Charles" you grunt shrugging his arm off.

"Why not?" he asks looking over you.

"I think you know why, just concentrate on FP2 Charles" you say, for the first time you see a sort of desperation in his eyes. It's almost as if he came here with the intention to say something to you, but he also doesn't want to admit it.

"Y/N... wait" he starts again but you continue walking. You manage to get back to the motorhome and see Lando sat in the hospitality, he was with his personal trainer Jon and then the performance engineer Jarv.

You walk past them and here Jarv say something to your brother.

"Go follow her, you need to sort this out before the race"

"She doesn't want to talk to me, I've tried" he groans as you wait behind the door just in earshot of them.

"You call earlier in the garage trying? Jheez man" Jon laughs before getting up and discarding of his food tray.

"Your right!" Lando sighs before jumping up to come and find you. You start to walk away so it didn't look like you were listening in to their conversation.

"Y/N, please can we talk" Lando says stopping you right by the coffee cart.

"Mmmmm"

"Look, I was terrible the other day. Your my twin and we've shared everything together. I- I'm sorry i wasn't there to celebrate with you. It's just annoying when Jon's telling me that you've been told not to go for the overtake and then you do. I see now that you taking over worked better for the team but i cant help but be upset" he tries but you look at him in shock, why on earth was he making this moment, this apology about him and how he was affected.

"How are you still making this about you?" you scoff.

"What what do you mean, I'm explaining why i wasn't there..."

"By saying that I've upset you, when I'm the person you've affected. Do you even know what they have been saying about me in articles because of this whole thing with you and Charles? I'm being told I'm a shit driver and i shouldn't have my seat and that my own brother and multiple other drivers agree... I'm being told im a danger to the sport and that I wont have a seat come next year!" you sigh, knowing that he had a right to be upset about you overtaking him, but it shouldn't be at you.

"I'm sorry, I know I ruined it. I should've celebrated with you! Its my fault" he says, before pulling you into a hug. You hug him back, your shoulders sagging into it. Your brother was always your other half, you guys were two peas in a pod. It broke your heart when he left you behind in F2 before going to F1 in 2019. So this year, being the first year that you were back driving with your brother it was special for you.

"It's not like I wont have other podiums to celebrate this year" you jab him making him laugh.

"Oh yeah, not if i have anything to say about it!" he jokes as you both start walking back to the garage.

"I'm still upset though, just so you know. But I forgive you" you smile as you both get back to the cars.

"Hey, how's the car looking?" you ask the people around your car.

"You'll be good to go, breaks are sorted and its looking good!"

And that was true, you came P3 in FP2.

You didn't have a good night sleep, thinking about Charles and how he's tried to talk to you today, how you'd made up with Lando, and you kept asking yourself if it was too quick. But what was in your mind the most was Max and what he'd told you and how he'd been so nice to you over the last few months.

FP3 the next day was worse and you came P10, which then set the mood for Qualifying, where you finished P10 which would mean that your are in the middle for starting the next day.

Lando was in P8 meaning he was directly in front of you, you were hoping you could get a slipstream from him, and overtake Fernando on the start.

By the end of the French Grand Prix you and your brother both simultaneously moved up 4 places ending with him in P5 and you in P6, Zac was happy as you'd managed to stir Ferrari and get ahead both of them.

You were walking to your car, when you notice a sleek Ferrari next to your McLaren and a familiar man leaning against it.

"Charles I really cant deal with this, the interviews have tired me out. I'll see you in Styria!" you say, clicking the keys to open your car.

"Y/N please I need to apologize" he says grabbing at you wrist again turning you round.

"Charles, look. I forgave Lando for not being at my podium and yelling at me, but you actively told me I didn't deserve my seat when i've had to work twice as hard for it than anyone on the grid. So to be told that its undeserved is horrible because this is all I've ever wanted..." you say tears brimming your eyes.

"I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'll think I'll regret this forever if I don't do this" he says before grabbing your cheeks with his hands, one sliding down to your neck before leaning in and placing his lips against yours.

You kiss back, it's more out of anger, you weren't sure why you actually kissed him back. After the initial shock you pulled away, your hand slipping in between you too to push him away.

"Charles what the hell" you shout, looking at him eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, but the reason I get so annoyed with you is because I've had a crush on you for years. At first I hated that you always were better than me, I got more aggressive and you were the safer driver back then, so you'd give me room let me pass. I knew I'd never have a chance with you, getting you attention was easier when I teased you, but i guess as i got older i got more sour at you, and how everyone seemed to adore you and grab your attention apart from me" he reasons now holding her wrist again.

"Charles, you cant, you cant do that" you cry.

"What, I cant admit what I've been feeling for you for years. Y/N please" he begs, the puppy eyes looking down at you as you shrunk yourself.

"What's going on over here" Max asks coming over looking between you and Charles, you turn away so that he doesn't see the tears in your eyes, wiping them with the sleeve of your orange McLaren rain jacket.

"Nothing Max" you say before turning back round smiling at the both of them.

"Come on Y/N. I know you better than that" Max said but you decided to stay silent.

"Is he bothering you again? Charles, just leave her the fuck alone. We spoke about this after Azerbaijan..." Max says pushing him away from you.

"Max don't! Its fine I promise, I'll see you both in Austria okay?" you say getting into the car. You sit there for a second, contemplating what the hell just happened before you realize both the drivers are still stood there watching you.

What. The. Hell.

A/N: I don't know if i like this, it feels like I made her and Lando make up too quickly, and Charles felt kinda quick. But for future ideas in this series, her and Lando making up now means room for more angst in the future *wink,wink*

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? He opted to hold her hand during the celebration of the Merc's double podium because there were too many people. "Move through the crowd while holding hands so as to not lose one another – and not letting go afterwards". Just something fluff and comfort. Add something if it's not right. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

sorry it's so short! but I loved writing this fluff, and honestly churned it out in like 1 hour.

also if you have older requests i am working on them, I am just also working on school work.

luckily, all my assessments are nearly done, and holidays are next week so yay! more updates :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x wife!reader

“AND THAT IS A MERCEDES 1-2 TO THROW THIS CHAMPIONSHIP WIDE OPEN AT THE SAUDI ARABIAN GRAND PRIX AND 3 YEARS AFTER WINNING HIS LAST GRAND PRIX HERE, LEWIS HAMILTON HAS WON HIS 104TH CAREER VICTORY AND WHAT A WAY TO DO IT IN HIS LAST SEASON WITH MERCEDES.”

The rest of Crofty’s speech was drowned out by the cheers of the garage around Y/N as the team who had gone so long without winning, especially Lewis’ side of the garage cheered and yelled and as the pit mechanics came back from where they’d been on the fence yelling and contributed to more noise.

Y/N felt a little overwhelmed. She hadn’t really been in the garage since 2021, due to her husband’s tensions during the year and her wish to continue to just focus on her own career. She tried to insist she was the team’s bad luck charm after Abu Dhabi, until people had pointed out that she’d also been there during the dominant 2020 season. And as she had spent 2022 and 2023, which also were not great years for Mercedes, she’d agreed to do a lot more of her work remotely and come to the grand prixs. She insisted that she was bad luck at the first grand prix, and Toto had basically dragged her along to Saudi.

Maybe she was their good luck charm, she thought, as the garage exploded when Max and Sergio had crashed into each other, making both the red bulls retire. The Ferrari’s had been having problems all weekend but no one truly hoped even when they were sitting in a 1-2.

At least until they’d crossed the line. And then they’d had hope. And then the celebrations had begun. Someone had already found champagne and begun spraying it around, no one thinking about the podium, until all of a sudden everyone was and they were all rushing around and Y/N was all caught up in the rush and being pushed around by everyone, trying to find Toto until she felt a hand slip into hers.

She jumped back, not wanting some strange man holding her hand until she looked up and realised that it was in fact her husband who was trying to hold her hand.

“Sorry…didn’t realise it was you.”

“That’s okay Liebe. I’ve got you. Now lets go watch Lewis on the podium, okay?”

The second she nodded in agreement, Toto slipped his hand back into Y/N’s as he tried to push through the crowd again. Being tall and the team principal helped, and as they weren't coming for the pre podium celebrations, which is where everyone else was rushing towards. As the drivers were hugged and yelled at again by the mechanics (honestly how were they going to have voices tomorrow, and how were the red bull mechanics’ voices not very raspy after doing this practically every week for the past few years). Y/N thought she was going to have to cancel her meetings for the next few weeks as she would just be unable to talk.

Toto pushed through the throng of mechanics, pushing through the Mercedes and Williams colours everywhere, trying to get a good position at the front, and then the announcers began, and Toto and Y/N were wedged against the barrier and they decided to stop and watch the podium.

Y/N watched as Albon mounted the podium, grinning to the feral screams of the Williams mechanics to her left. She’d ended up wedged between James and Toto, smiling at James’ excitement on Alex being on the podium. She smiled at him as the noise from the Williams side of the podium celebration. He smiled back, almost bouncing up and down by the excitement of what Williams was achieving. And as Lewis, George and Bono bounded onto the podium, bringing up a round of screaming and even Y/N raised her hands. And as she raised her right hand, she could feel Toto’s hand, still intertwined with hers. She smiled, locking eyes with Toto.

His eyes twinkled as he smiled down, before his attention was brought back to the podium and yelling at the drivers.

The German and British anthems blared out, and while Y/N knew most of the words of the British anthem (it was mostly just the same words on repeat ‘god save our king’). And while Toto was able to sing the German anthem while Y/N butchered it here and there. She loved listening to her husband singing or talking in his natural language. It was very hot, if Y/N had to admit it.

As they left the podium to go back to the garage, Toto had still not let go of her hand as they continued winding between what felt like millions of people crowding the pit lane.

When they finally returned to the Mercedes garage, and walked up to Toto’s office, Toto finally let go of Y/N’s hand and started to gather up his work and laptop to get ready to return to the hotel.

“Hey, toto?”

“Yes liebe?”

“Why were you holding my hand?”

“Well, I didn’t want to get lost, and I didn’t want you to get lost, liebe.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you let go of my hand when we got to the podium”

“Do I need an excuse to hold your hand, darling?”

“No but…”

“Then I kept holding your hand because I wanted to keep holding your hand. Is that a good enough excuse?”

“Okay Liebe.”

Toto put all his files and laptop in his left hand after shrugging on his overcoat, and then offered his right hand to Y/N.

“Can I keep holding your hand liebe?”

“Of course you can darling.”

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[fairyysoup]

western nights

♫︎ western nights - ethel cain ♫︎

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: You're on a road trip to nowhere. Eddie wants to get the hell out of dodge. It's a match made in heaven- if only it were, actually, heaven.

words: 13k

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), exhibitionism, light choking, spitting, eddie is 24, reader's age unspecified (over 21), illegal activities, theft, smoking, alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, bonnie & clyde type dynamic, mechanic!eddie, eddie's trying hard to be a good boy he's just got issues, pining, perv!reader, some slight dubcon/somno for a sec if you squint, there was only one bed, graphic depictions of violence, a drunk guy being nasty to both eddie and reader, bar fight, blood, arguments, angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, an overall janky relationship here, inspired by the song western nights by ethel cain

a/n: *slaps fic* this bad boy can be written with so many cold medicines in my head <3 ethel cain if you see this do NOT interact i have done zero justice to your song and also completely disregarded some key aspects of the themes of it lol this is loosely based at best

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

He’s never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot, breaking into the ATMs, sleeping naked when it gets too hot…

You’ve become something of a connoisseur of gas station coffee. 

You know which chains have the best. Love’s always has the best and freshest, with the most options of flavors. Pilot is usually a crapshoot, depending on what area of the country you’re in. Occasionally, if you can find it, Bodega doesn’t disappoint. And the worst, by far, is always Shell. Shell coffee, you think, must come directly from the sewers of whatever backwater town you’re trundling through.

You’re somewhere in Indiana, you guess, judging by the state-shaped keychains on the rotating rack next to the cash register. You grab a state map from a magazine stand and toss it in with the rest of your purchase. You were lucky to have found a Love’s so you could finally afford yourself some proper dark roast coffee; all the watered down arabica stuff you’ve been getting since Cleveland has only been making your head ache. 

“What’s the quickest way to Indianapolis?” You ask the dead-eyed attendant ringing you up, a 20-something year old guy with bags under his eyes and bad skin. 

He chews his licorice like a camel chews straw, staring up at you blankly. “I dunno. Never been.”

You look from him, to the map, and back. “Cool. What town is this?”

“Hawkins.” His bored-by-you attitude is overwhelming.

“Thanks so much for the help.” You afford the attendant a tight smile as you grab your bag of snacks and head out. It’s going to be a long night. 

The air outside is stifling, summer heat hanging in the muggy air like a fog. The humidity makes your hair stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck as you peel off your old green hunting jacket and tie it around your waist. You’ve parked your van under the fluorescent-lit gas pump overhang, providing the proper lighting for you to spread the map of Indiana across the hood and bend over it, using your full coffee as a paperweight. You rip open the singular Slim-Jim you could afford for dinner, and pore over it.

There’s commotion across the parking lot, which stirs you from your rumination over the map. You glance up; there are two guys loitering by a telephone booth in one corner of the lot, sharing a cigarette. Teenagers who have nowhere else to be on a Friday night, you suppose. Five yards away from them, a third crouches in front of a badly vandalized ATM, the cause of the commotion. He seems to be hacking at the wiring with a pocket knife.

You ignore it. So far, on this trip, you’ve seen far worse than a guy stealing petty cash from a gas station ATM. Tracing your fingers across the paper, it looks like if you take state route 13 to I-69, you’ll be in Indianapolis by midnight. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you can find the 13, and then you can find a place to crash in the city.

Grabbing an old highlighter from your pocket, you mark your route in bright pink. The guy from the ATM seems to have gotten what he wanted, moving quickly across the parking lot with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. He approaches a motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the pump from you, and begins feeding dollar bills into the machine. 

“Hey, do you know how to get to the 13 from here?” You can’t see much more than his leather-clad shoulder and hip jutting out from around the pump, the front tire of his Harley sticking out from behind his leg.

There’s a pause, and then his head pops out from around the pump. A curtain of unruly dark hair frames a long neck, big doe-like eyes and flushed lips pouting at you in confusion. It makes you freeze. “Sorry?”

“I, uh-” What were you trying to do? Get on the right course. Right. Of course. “State- uh- state route 13? I’m trying to get to, um, Indianapolis?” You cringe at your own stuttering, nails digging into the paper before you. 

The man stares at you for a long time, dark eyes framed by thick, curling lashes sizing you up slowly. Then, he rounds the pump. “The highway’s just down the road- keep going west and you won’t miss it.” 

“Great, thanks.” You grab up your coffee and the map, crunching it between your tense fingers. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the gas pump, arms crossed, staring at you. It makes you nervous, in more ways than one. 

“You won’t get far in that heap, though.”

You pause. Your knees threaten to wobble under you as you look up at him. Your hand is on the door, you could simply ignore him and get in, but something in his gaze makes you stop. Is that… genuine concern? Or is he just putting on a show for you? 

“What do you mean?” The heat of the coffee burns through the paper cup and torches your fingers.

“Well, your fender’s bashed in and, I dunno if you noticed, but you have a crack in your windshield,” he gestures at the long crack running horizontally across the glass, just above where your line of sight usually is. “Probably got a lot more shit wrong with it, too, I could hear you coming a mile up the road. Junkyard find?”

“Something like that.” More like, sat in your parents’ garage for so long that you took a chance on the fucked up radiator and bailed. “She’s good, though. She’ll get me another 80 miles, easy.”

“Are you only going 80 miles?” The guy questions, “Or are you going way past that and only doing the 80 miles tonight?”

If he wasn’t so pretty, with a note of flirtation in his voice, you’d be hesitant as hell to tell him. “The second one.” 

ATM guy sucks on his teeth, rocking back on heels that creak with the movement. Rubber soled work boots flash at you from beneath torn blue denim. “Dunno if I should let you go alone, then. You might bust your carburetor halfway there and be stranded.”

That puts alarm sirens in your head. You’d back away if your car wasn’t situated between the two of you. “Thanks, but, uh… I think I can handle myself.”

The teasing smile drops off his face quickly, replaced by a look of subtle desperation. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not- I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. Obviously. Or you wouldn’t be trucking along by yourself through Nowheresville, Indiana,” he chuckles. “I just, ah… let me level with you?”

Your face screws up, but you lean your hip against the fender nearest you- the one that isn’t fucked up. What is it with this guy?

“I’m trying to jump ship. Anywhere’s better than here, but I really want to get to the west coast. I don’t know where you’re headed, but I’ve got my sights on San Francisco. And, uh, I have experience fixing cars, working in a garage,” he confesses. “But I don’t have a ride of my own- this isn’t even my bike, really. So, if you’re heading to the city, and you could use someone to make sure your car doesn’t kick it going over 75, I’m your man. Besides,” he bats his pretty lashes at you, his fingers fiddling with the end of his long hair as he brandishes a wad of ATM-stolen cash, “I have gas money.”

“You want to hitch a ride with me?”

“If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, I bid you fair and safe travels.” He bows dramatically, throwing his hand in the direction of the highway you’d asked about. “But if you ask me, I think you’d be doing both of us a favor in the long run if you let me come with. Just for insurance, y’know.”

“Insurance?” You parrot incredulously.

“Yeah,” he grins. He has dimples, a wide smile that stretches across his face and makes him even prettier than you can stand to look at directly. “Just insurance. No other reason.”

“Mhm,” you grunt, going over the positives and negatives in your head. 

Positives- your car is a piece of shit and you’re sure he’s right, you’re working on borrowed time and you’re less than halfway to your desired destination. Plus, he’s unfairly nice to look at. 

Negatives- you don’t know shit for fuck about him, other than the fact that he’s apparently trying to leave town and makes a hobby of breaking into ATMs. And, hell, even Ted Bundy was supposed to be charming and cute, at first. This guy could be a crazy ax murderer, could be a rapist, could be a junkie who’ll steal your car and leave you stranded, could be, could be-

“MUNSON!”

“Fuck.” ATM guy glances over his shoulder, then ducks quickly around the side of the gas pump as the station attendant comes storming out of the store. He crouches, pressing his hands to the glass window of the passenger’s side and peers through the cab at you on the other side with pleading eyes. “Can you get me a couple miles down the road, at least?” 

“What about your bike?” 

“Not my bike,” he tells you for a second time. “My buddy’ll pick it up when he hears about this, please.”  

The station attendant is making his way across the parking lot now, looking miffed. It’s clearly the most energy he’s put into anything today, but he isn’t moving very fast. 

You’ve made worse decisions in your life. You sigh. “Shit. Get in.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” He pops open the passengers door as you slide into the driver’s seat, tossing the crumpled up map in the back. You guess you’ve found a GPS, for the time being.

“Does my insurance have a name?” you ask as you peel out of the gas station. The attendant hovers by the pump you’d been occupying, looking lamely at the abandoned motorcycle in your rearview. 

“Eddie,” ATM guy says. A ring-clad hand lifts between you, hovering over the gear shift and waiting for your own to settle into it for a shake, “Eddie Munson.” 

You eye his outstretched hand, your stomach doing flips, but you’re unsure if it’s because of him or the very situation he’s just put you in. You lift your hand and bat his with your knuckles, a half-hearted acknowledgement without the formality. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie.” 

Eddie coughs, shifting up in his seat to peer behind you at the station. “Fuckin’ Keith. You can just drop me off at the next exit, it’s no biggie.” 

“Hm? I thought you were coming with me to Indianapolis, hot stuff.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Seriously? You don’t- you don’t have to, I know it’s a big ask-” 

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Not particularly.” He sinks down in his seat again. “Guess I figured you think I’m more of a liability than anything.”

“I do, but I need all that cash you swiped from the ATM,” you hum with a snarky grin on your face. 

Eddie chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap. His knuckles tighten and relax beneath heavy steel rings. “Yeah, better I do it than you, huh?” There’s an awkward pause, and then he blurts, “Do you have any road music in this thing?” 

You reach forward and hit the volume button for the stereo. You’d been halfway through Danzig’s self titled album- Mother kicks in with the chorus. In the darkness, you don’t see the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle with adoration as he looks at you.

“I think you and I are gonna get along great, sweetheart.” 

You ignore how your thighs press in on themselves while you sip your coffee, and you turn onto highway 13, headed for Indianapolis.

When you step out of the bathroom in the motel room in Indianapolis, you find Eddie hunched over by the window, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. The chain on his wrist jingles as he smacks at the A/C unit beneath the drawn curtains.

“Everything okay?” You ask, pretty much knowing what the answer is. Your hair drips water down your back, but you can still feel the muggy summer heat in the room practically smothering your pores. 

“Damn Motel 6 A/C,” he grumbles as he gives it one last smack on the side, to no avail. “The unit’s broken, there’s gonna be no cool air in the room.”

“That’s okay, we can crack a window.” 

“In this part of the city?” Eddie scoffs, looking over at you. “Believe me, princess, I applaud your optimism- I would have just driven away from me there at the gas station, given the chance. But if we crack that window, we’re gonna get fucking robbed, first thing. Believe me.”

“I believe you,” you huff, clutching the itchy motel towel to your wet skin. Usually you would just pull on a tank and a pair of panties and call it a night, but there’s no such luck for you here. You have a backpack full of old, dirty clothes, and no clean underwear to speak of- you’ve been washing them in public bathroom sinks since Columbus. “Well, I’m just gonna sleep naked, then. You do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“What- you’re gonna- what?” Eddie blathers, sitting back on his heels. You stare at him for a second- he’s a vision of flushed skin and a cloud of brunette hair cascading over his shoulders. Knobbly knees stick up at awkward angles, hairy thighs disappear into the hem of his boxers drawn tight across his skin. Your eyes glance over the ominous bulge in the crotch of them, not willing to think about those parts of a man you barely know. “You really think- I mean- is that wise?”

“Are you gonna get frisky with me, Eddie?” You ask with a teasing voice. You’d learned enough about him on the way to the city- 24 years old, no prospects, big dreams, ran a D&D club in high school, worked in a garage to help pay the bills- that you’re fairly certain he’s a good enough guy to keep his hands to himself. You just enjoy watching his big eyes go rounder at the insinuation.

“No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eddie looks mortified. He backtracks, “Unless- unless you wanted me to, I mean-” 

“Don’t overanalyze it,” you tell him mildly, turning your back to him to rifle through your bag. “We’re both adults, it’s hot, there’s one bed and we’re both paying for it. Something tells me you’ve done worse things than lay next to someone without clothes on.”

Eddie blows a long breath out of pursed lips, not moving from his seat on the floor. He doesn’t deny your accusation, just mutters, “You put so much faith in me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

You drop the wet towel on the floor and round the bed to turn down the sheets. Eddie’s eyes trail you; you can feel them burning into your skin, lit by the dim yellow light on the bedside table. It takes a moment for him to finally move, a single trembling hand reaching up to swipe a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table.

“You gonna sit there on the floor all night?” You muse as you lay back on the bed. It’s too fucking hot. The dampness from the shower hasn’t dried, but now it’s simply growing with the rate your body is perspiring. Your hair and skin stick to the white sheets, which feel pasty each time you move.

“Just getting my bearings,” Eddie says, his voice tight and hollow. “You smoke?”

“Not especially, but I won’t stop you.” 

The smell of tobacco hangs in the heavy air more potently than you expected. The humidity dampens the vapor, making it sting your nose and leech into your mouth, even though you’re not the one directly breathing it. It strikes you as devastatingly intimate- the thought that you might be breathing the smoke that’s already touched his lungs. 

“Do you mind if I strip down, too?” Eddie asks after a long time of deliberating as he smoked. “Not that- I mean, I don’t have any pajamas, so…”

“Do what you need to do, honey,” you murmur, repeating what you’d told him before. “We can find a laundromat in the morning. Maybe get you a change of clothes somewhere.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say much after that, but you listen to him rustling around, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray and flicking off the bedside light. 

He straightens up, silhouette looming in the blue-dark from the curtained window. You watch from the corner of your eye while his backlit form hooks its thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and drops them.

He clambers onto the bed beside you, careful not to bump any part of you. You refuse to look at him, scanning the asbestos popcorn on the ceiling above you with an overabundance of scrutiny, willing yourself to focus on anything but Eddie’s beautiful body, especially what he has below the belt. It’s a bad idea, no go. You don’t want to see it, don’t even want to think about it- what it looks like, how big it is, how it curves, what kind of hair surrounds it, if any-

You’re thinking about it.

And you told him not to overanalyze it. To be calm about it. What a fucking joke.

“You know, I’m not as easy as I might seem,” you blurt out suddenly, unaware of why you even do. You mostly come off sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.

Eddie’s head rustles against the pillow as he glances at you in the dark. “I don’t think you are.”

“Okay. Just- just making sure,” you stutter out. “All evidence to the contrary, and all.”

“I’m not expecting to get lucky with you,” he tells you honestly, a little flatly, like he’s afraid of any inflection in his voice betraying him. “You know, beyond the ride west.”

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

You both regress into silence. You think you’ve both said your piece on the matter. You might not trust Eddie, not entirely, but you at least know he’s not gonna try anything stupid if you let yourself fall asleep. You actually think that he’s asleep after so many minutes, until he opens his mouth again.

“It’s really fucking hot, isn’t it?” He croaks. His hands twitch by his sides, feet jammed under the downturned covers, but everything else bare to the open room, like you. His pinkie brushes yours, and he nearly smacks himself jerking his hand back toward his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s not… it’s not good.” You blink into the darkness. “Sorry, you must be regretting coming with me all this way.”

“Nah, not a chance.” He brushes it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been itching to get out of there since I graduated. Feel kinda bad that I didn’t leave a note for my uncle, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on him. I can always call him from a pay phone. Kinda wish I had my guitar, though.” 

“You play guitar?” you ask dazedly. You don’t have a hard time imagining it, now that you think about it. He has that rocker look about him, the kind that could grace magazines and be on posters on teenage girls’ walls, if he played his cards right. If he got his lucky break.

“Yeah. Pretty good, too, I guess.” He sighs. There’s a wistfulness in it, like he’s reminiscing on something from his past. “It’s okay. I can pick up another one once I get to California. Dropped a mint on the one I had back home, but I guess Wayne can always pawn it. Maybe get himself a nicer place.”

You chuckle. “And you think I’m the optimist here.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Eddie scoffs, then deepens his voice quite suddenly. “Two optimists, both alike in dignity-”

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest, making Eddie grin as you gesture at your bodies. “Or lack, thereof.”

“In fair Indianapolis, where we lay our scene.” He ends his recitation giggling, the flimsy bed frame jolting with the shaking of his chest. “Radiant Juliet, you never did tell me where your chariot is taking me.”

“I’m not sure, really,” you admit, mellowing your laughter into a quiet giggle. “I just wanted to leave home. I was suffocating there, I needed to get out. See what’s out there for me, if anything.”

“And have you seen much?”

“Not much,” you tell him quietly. “Mostly truck stops and shitty roadside attractions. But we’re in the midwest, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” He lays his hand back down on the mattress beside you. 

You turn your body towards him, damp sheets clinging to your skin as you move. “California might not be such a bad idea.”

Eddie turns his head and glances at you, dark eyes finding you in the dim moonlight. “No? I’ll have to fix your car, then.”

“You do that, and I’ll make sure to get you where you’re going,” you whisper.

“Deal.” His eyes linger on your face, just inches away from his on the pillow. Flickering in the moonlight, two voids that hold all the stars in the night sky seem to take you in like you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.

This time, when your fingers brush, he doesn’t jerk away. This time, you don’t avert your eyes when you look down at his cock, but you sure do regret it when you don’t reach out to touch it.

He’s so pretty. You want to.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do…

Your underwear and his come out of the dryer wrapped around each other. You spend a minute disentangling them, a small heap of clothes in a rolling laundry basket in front of you. The closest laundromat to the Motel 6 had been a five minute drive down the street. 

You’d woken up with your head on his chest, your arm draped across his bare stomach, despite how you’d fallen asleep barely touching him. As if your unconscious body had known more about your wants than you. His hand had been tangled in your hair, palm cradling your cheek and a bit of your neck, like his own unconscious wanted to keep you against him, too. 

The morning had been easy- the easiest it’s been since you hit the road. Eddie seems to have given you a sense of purpose you didn’t have before, driving around aimlessly, only stopping for fast food every once in a while when you remembered to eat something other than beef jerky and coffee. Once you had extracted yourself from his grip, you’d gone to buy him clothes from the resale store next to the motel. It wasn’t hard to find a plain black shirt and jeans, but used underwear was something you didn’t want to mess with. You’d brought it back to the motel, along with some food from the Waffle House across the way, and you ate cross legged on the bed while he showered and put on his new-ish clothes.

But now, you can’t stop feeling his hand cradling your head. His hot, sweaty skin against your arm. Your fingernails raking lightly through the trail of hair on his stomach, dragging through his pubic hair, your knuckles just barely brushing up the side of his length- thick, uncut, and so so pretty. Then, stopping nervously when you’d gotten too bold, fingers skimming over sensitive skin too close to his groin, and he’d twitched in his sleep.

You want him. You don’t even know him, and you want him so badly you can feel it even now, an aching blush between your legs turning into a dull throb when you so much as think about him. 

You toss all the freshly washed clothes into a plastic bag that you’d grabbed by the door to the laundromat, and haul it out to your van. He’d told you to meet him at the bar across the street when you were done, since he needed to make a few calls on their payphone- he’d even given you his weathered denim vest before he left.

“For insurance,” he winked. “Uh, don’t wash it, though… I stitched it by hand, it’ll fall apart.”

You don’t put it in with the clean clothes. It smells like smoke and alcohol and him, the edges frayed and yellowing a bit. You hold it in your lap for a second, plucking at the stringy bits around the arm holes. Maybe you can convince him to let you soak it in a sink somewhere, hand washed and dried carefully over a working A/C unit, wherever you can find one. You don’t know when he last washed the damn thing, if ever.

When you pull into the parking lot of the dive bar, and you clutch the denim vest in your hand as you step out of your van, something sharp prods your thumb. You hiss, slamming the car door shut and examining what it was. The sharp point of a pin on the vest- which reads Motörhead- had come loose and pricked your skin, which now threatens to ooze blood all over the aged denim.

“Fuck,” you murmur, bringing your thumb to your mouth as you lock the car. You struggle with the vest while you walk towards the door to the dive, trying to resituate the pin so it doesn’t go missing.

You find him loitering beside a billiards table, pool stick in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. When he sees you walk in, his eyes light up, and he nearly drops the stick prancing over to you. 

“Told ya I’d still be here- hey, you okay?” His grin turns very readily into a frown when he sees you sucking your thumb like a child. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you mutter clumsily, “your pin just nicked me s’all.” 

“Oh, shit,” he curses, reaching for your hand. “Lemme see- no, let me see.” He forces your hand open when you try to close it, and scrutinizes the little pin prick as if it’s the worst battle wound he’s ever seen. “Should’a checked to make sure all the pins were right, this happens all the time. I’m so sorry, baby, my fault.”

Baby. Your brain tries to process it. He called you baby. 

He’s also kissing your thumb, cradling your hand with excessive care. He’s tasting your blood, sucking a little on the pin prick like you had been, so your skin is wet with a mix of his and your spit. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of the way he touches you. Fleeting as his touches have been, anyways. You melt a little under his gaze as his round eyes blink up at you innocently.

“S’okay,” you tell him with a wobbly smile. “Did you make your calls?”

He looks at you softly, a reserved smile on his face. “I did. Wayne’s miffed, but he’ll live. Told him I’d send him a postcard.”

You giggle at that, thinking you’d sign it along with him. Sorry for stealing away your nephew; it will happen again. “Good. Buy me a drink, handsome?”

Eddie beams at you, and his dimples crease his cheeks as he turns to the bartender. There’s a sweet, boyish manner in the way he puffs out his chest and orders you a drink, his arm circling your waist as he moves you smoothly toward the bar. As soon as a whisky sour has been placed in front of you, he turns and squeezes your arm.

“Hey, I gotta finish this game,” he nods at the pool table he’d been stationed at. “I got some money on it. Y’okay with hanging out for a minute?” 

“Sure,” you chirp, sipping your drink. “Wipe the floor with ‘em for me?”

“It’s in the bag,” he whispers at you conspiratorially. You push his vest at him, imagining he wants to take his insurance back now that you know he’s not taking off on you, but he shakes his head. “No, you wear it. It’ll look good on you.” 

His eyes light up when you shrug the vest over your worn out white t-shirt. As you lift your drink, and he turns back to his game, you think you’d do anything to keep him looking at you like that.

Eddie wins. You don’t know how much he bet on the game, but there seems to be hurt feelings when he collects the money that had been placed on the table. You’ve never been much of a gambler, and he hadn’t struck you as one- but what do you know? He certainly bet on you getting him out of Hawkins, and you certainly took a chance on him. 

You don’t think much of it. It’s late afternoon- the sun’s going down, and you figure you’d better get going, but Eddie wraps his arms around you and says, “Dance with me.” And you do.

The jukebox in the corner only plays country classics. Patsy Cline croons over the speakers, taking you back to a time in your far off childhood. Eddie sways with you to the music, and even though there’s barely any rhythm to his dancing, you find yourself falling into it with him. Your head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. His breath on your neck, cool on your heated skin. 

That is, until a hand wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and jerks him away from you. A man with blond hair, clearly a few too many drinks in, snarls at him, “That game was bullshit and you know it.”

Eddie blinks at him. “If by ‘bullshit’ you mean I beat you, then sure.”

“You di’int beat me, you cheated,” the man sneers. “I want my money back.” 

“Yeah, no.” Eddie claps the man on the shoulder, trying to push him away. “I won the game, I get the money. That’s how gambling works.” 

You step back when the man’s beady eyes fall on you, peering at him over Eddie’s shoulder. “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

“You leave her out of this, buddy,” Eddie growls dangerously, still forcing the man back with one strong hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to put himself between you and the man, you know. Still, you feel the need to fist your hand in the back of Eddie’s shirt and pull him away.

“I ain’t your buddy. Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch?” The man reaches out and yanks roughly on your arm, making you yelp in alarm.

And that’s when Eddie’s fist connects with the man’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crack. In the chaos, it somehow occurs to you that Eddie’s wearing all those chunky rings. You wonder if they could be considered a deadly weapon, in the same vein as brass knuckles.

It takes you a second to get through the initial shock, finding it hard to focus on who’s doing what. Eddie and the man have barrelled through a couple of tables, knocking over chairs. Eddie has the man pinned to the edge of the pool table, a flurry of fists moving from all sides. 

“You don’t touch my girl!” Eddie shouts at the man. “You don’t fuckin’ touch my girl!”  

His girl.

They tumble to the floor. The man curses and spits blood at him from a cut lip. A strong fist hits the side of Eddie’s face once, twice-

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The words are shouted by the bartender, finally intervening, pulling the blond man off of Eddie. As the bartender restrains the unruly man, a second pulls an equally enraged Eddie away from him, separating the two. 

By the time you collect a bruised and bloodied Eddie into your arms, you’ve already tuned out the rest of the ruckus going on around you. Someone suggests that you should leave, but the words only barely register. You’re already pulling Eddie out the door and to the car.

You don’t even remember if you closed the tab.

Trouble’s always gonna find you, baby, but so will I. Crying only because I’m happy, hold me across every state line…

You don’t know when you started crying. Maybe it was around the time that Eddie fell unconscious.

Tears burn in your eyes like you’ve poured gasoline in them, but no matter how badly it stings you just keep sniffling and driving, tearing down the interstate away from Indianapolis, toward St. Louis. You hopped on I-70 as quickly as you could, and from there you’ve been lost in a world of your own.

He’d almost look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the blood on his jaw and the nasty shiner on his cheekbone. You keep telling yourself it’s not bad enough for him to need to be taken to a hospital. You can’t afford to go to a hospital, and even if you could, you’d have to explain how he got in this condition. It’s a recipe for jail time. You know that. You know.  

You just want to keep him safe, that’s all. 

He hadn’t instigated the fight, not really. He’d just swung first. He was just defending you.

His girl.  

When it gets to be too much, you pull over. Headlights gleam bright and then pass by in the dark with a whoosh of air. You think you must have crossed over into Illinois by now, or you’re getting close to it. The traffic has lightened considerably. 

You rest your head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, but the tears keep coming in streams. A while ago, you had a mattress in the back of this van. That was before it started having problems, and it sat in your family’s garage for a year and a half. You should have put a mattress in it when you took off, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. You were having a breakdown, something like you’re having now, only worse. It was a manic, get-away-or-die-there kind of breakdown. 

Breathe in. You’re not gonna die. Breathe out. He’s breathing.

Once Eddie cracks his eyes open, he flexes his jaw with a groan. You can tell he’s confused by the inquisitive noise he makes, but when he looks at you, all that disappears in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’re you- oh, god. Sweetheart, don’t cry.”  

As if that doesn’t make you want to cry harder. His hand lands tentatively on your shoulder, stiff fingered but light in touch. He shuffles closer to you, pulling you against him to sob into his secondhand shirt. 

It’s pathetic, you’re sure of it. You feel pathetic, twisting the cheap cotton of his shirt in your hands and saturating it with tears, as he shushes you and soothes a hand over your hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his aching lips to your scalp in an attempt to calm you down. “We’ll be okay. I’m right here. What can I do?”

For some reason, the question makes you mad. “You don’t fucking fight,” you sob at him, the anger in your voice making him freeze. “You don’t- you don’t get into fights. I can deal with a lot of shit, Eddie Munson, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

“No fighting.” 

“No fighting,” he repeats affirmatively, petting your head. Then he adds, “No gambling.”

“No bars.”

“Well-”

“No bars.” 

“All right,” Eddie resigns, resting his chin on top of your head. Once you’ve stopped crying, from what he can feel, he tells you softly, “I’m not… I’m not like that, you know. I want you to know. I don’t fight, not usually.”

“You did.” 

“I did,” he agrees. “I just don’t like… I didn’t like him touching you. Disrespecting you like that- did he hurt you?”

“No,” you lie. The guy had yanked your arm a little too hard, your wrist still smarting a bit. Nothing near what Eddie had taken. “He hurt you, though.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” His tone is ominous, like you don’t really want to know the heavy details of it. “I’m not a fighter. Used to be if I saw danger, I’d just turn tail and run. I usually just take shit on the chin. But I never had anything to fight for before, really.”

You sniffle loudly, grossly. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

“I’m gonna protect you, sweetheart. No matter what,” he insists. “Long as we’re together, I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you. Okay?”

Long as we’re together. Like you’re a couple, like you didn’t just meet by chance at a gas station a little more than 24 hours ago. Like you’re in love. 

His girl.  

“My dad’s in prison,” Eddie blurts out, raking a shaky hand through your hair. “He, uh… he was a fighter. And a thief. And a gambler. And a liar. He tried his best to make me be like him, but I don’t- I don’t wanna be like him.” Eddie sighs, a sad sound that rips through your already bleeding heart. “I thought maybe getting out of Hawkins would set me straight. Finally give me a chance to make something better of myself, prove I’m not like my old man. I tried, but after high school I got in some trouble, and Wayne had to sell my old van to pay for my bail. Now I’m here, and… Guess you just take yourself wherever you go, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you agree. Your fingers curve against his hip, squeezing the skin there. “So we have to try to change ourselves in the meantime, while we get where we’re going.”

Eddie breathes in, and it sounds an awful lot like a sniffle.

“Eddie. Are you crying?”

“No.” He is.

You lift your head with a wet, coughing chuckle at his futile attempt to hide it. You look up at him, your fingers tucking a lock of unruly, dark hair behind his ear. He’s staring back at you with glassy eyes, the tip of his nose gone red with the tears he’s holding back. He just barely flinches when your knuckles brush the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Hey, handsome,” you coo at him softly, your touch featherlight on his skin. He blinks, a tear dropping from his lashes. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” 

“Okay.” His lip wobbles. “Let me hold you a little longer, first?”

“Of course, Eddie.” You fall into his grasping hands, yanking you to him like a child searching for the comfort of his favorite teddy bear. You’d let him hold you as long as he liked.

You wash his face in a dirty rest area just west of Terre Haute. In the middle of the night, no one is around to tell you not to, so you follow him into the men’s room and take your time wiping the blood from his jaw and his hands. You gingerly apply a bandage from your car’s console to his bruised cheek, while he sits in the front seat and brackets your hips with his knees.

He gazes up at you like a man seeing God.

The neighbors beat on the walls, while I'm face first in the bed. Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed…

You sleep in the rest area that night, in the back of your van. No mattress, just your backs to the hard floor of the cab. With no A/C again, you shuck your clothes and spread a single white blanket over your bodies, more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Even though it’s unlikely that a cop is going to run you down in the middle of nowhere, you’d rather not get cited for public indecency. 

He holds you all night long, his arms around you and his chest against your back giving you peace, but he doesn’t touch you in any of the ways that you desperately want him to.

It takes the better part of a day to drive to St. Louis. Eddie swallows a couple tylenol for his face with his truck stop coffee and eggs, smiling softly at you from across a bright yellow plywood table in a cafeteria. From the look on his face, you doubt that he regrets the fight that gave him his wounds.

By the time your old van rattles up to another Motel 6 at the outskirts of the city, Eddie’s shaking his head. “The car’s not gonna take much more than this. I need to give it a good look, maybe borrow a tool kit and give it a tune up.”

“Whatever you say, magic man,” you muse at him. “Let’s just sleep in a real bed tonight, huh?”

His head tilted back, he looks at you sideways with a lopsided smile. You can tell his face is still hurting, but he puts on a brave face and bats his eyelashes at you. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

His touch lingers on you more, now, than it did yesterday. His fingers grazing your forearm as you open the glass door to the motel office, his hand hovering over your lower back as you sign for the room. His arm slung over your shoulder as he follows you down to the room, twirling the key around his finger. 

“You think the A/C will work this time?” He asks you lightheartedly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Only one way to find out,” you return with the same warmth in your voice. If you from two days ago could hear yourself, and that ooey-gooey note of lovesickness in your voice, your past self might keel over and die. When did this happen? 

You drop your bag of clothes on the bench by the bathroom door. Eddie bangs around the A/C unit a bit, until something starts whirring, and he makes a gleeful noise.

“It’s aliiiiive!” He announces dramatically, emulating Dr. Frankenstein. You giggle as he leaps toward you, practically throwing you onto the bed in excitement. “We have cool air. We can actually wear clothes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, not even trying to hide your disappointment at the thought. The best part of your last two mornings has been waking up to his naked body beside yours, warm and soft and littered with tattoos that you just can’t stop looking at. 

You mean, I won’t get to wake up to your skin on mine tomorrow? I won’t be able to pretend like I’m not staring at your dick and imagining all the things I want to do to it? How will I be able to admire you for my own perverted gain?

You don’t even realize that you’re stroking your fingers across his bruised cheek until he leans into your touch. Then you take inventory of your current position- your back to the mattress, his body hovering over you, half covering you. Caging you in with his arms. His long hair creates a veil around your faces. 

When he blinks his eyes open at you, you can tell where his mind is before he opens his mouth. “Did we have our first fight yesterday?”

You frown, a puff of air exiting your nose. “No, I think I’d call it laying ground rules.”  

“Ground rules,” Eddie nods, his sore cheek rubbing against your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he likes the pain, since he won’t stop pushing into it. “I’m not great at remembering rules. What were they, again?”

“No fighting.”

“Right, and no gambling.”

“No bars.”

He squints. “Is that one still up for negotiation, or…?” He trails off, giggling as you smack your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Kidding! I’m kidding. No bars. Got it.” 

“And that was it,” you tell him sweetly. “Unless there was another one you wanted to add?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his fingers twirling in the hair right beside your ear as he gets lost in thought. Say what you’re thinking, your mind practically screams at him. Please, god, say what we’re both thinking…

Eddie licks his lips and finally says, “No sleeping with clothes on?”

Gotcha. A creeping smile stretches your face, trying to play coy even when your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Eddie’s eyebrows raise at you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m not easy, Eddie.”

“I know,” he tells you, mirroring your smile. “I don’t expect to get lucky with you.”

“I know,” you hum. Your hand drifts up the side of his torso, a more firm and languorous touch than you’d previously been brave enough to give him. “But do you want to?”

Eddie shudders, and it’s the first honest to god evidence you have that you turn him on as much as he does you. The realization feels rapturous. 

“God, yes.”

He kisses you then, open-mouthed and passionate, his hand cupping your jaw to keep you where he wants you. Your nails scratch up his back with a loud tearing sound against his shirt, and he chuckles as you frantically clutch at him with all your strength. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pecking your lips briefly before descending to bite at your jaw. “You’ve been wanting this since that first night. Feelin’ me up in the morning, like I wouldn’t notice…”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you hiccup as his hand cups the crotch of your jeans, rocking the meat of his palm firmly where you’re dying for friction. “Oh, ffffuck Eddie, m’sorry…”

“And here you were, thinking I was the pervert,” he grunts. “‘Least I can keep my hands to myself, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” you babble at him, hands shaking as they grip onto his shoulders. Now that the aching throb between your legs is back, and he’s finally giving it attention, you can’t seem to come up with a more coherent sentence. Your face grows hot, but not at the fact that you’d been caught in your lechery- just because he turns you on more than you can think to admit.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers. His dark eyes are lined up with yours, the curtain of his hair shielding them from reflecting any of the light from the desk lamp- it’s just you and the starry voids of space, locked in your own little world. He rubs his hand back and forth with practiced pressure against the front of your jeans, your hips kicking up against him. “I want you to touch me. Want you to do whatever you want with me, baby.” 

“Whatever I want?” Your fingers dragging up his lower back, under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

“Anything,” he insists, kissing you again. Wet and sloppy, teeth clacking as you grind up into his palm. Your thick denim jeans are about the most abominable things that have ever existed.

You feel like your head’s on sideways with how pent up you already are. “I want you to fuck me Eddie- jesus chr- can we do that? Right now? Please?” 

Eddie laughs. A happy, whole-hearted, almost disbelieving laugh. “Thought I was gonna be the one begging you, after all this…” His breath hitches, the touch of his hand leaving you so that he can push himself back. “Lemme get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

You nod quickly, earning a pleased hum from him. The way he undresses you is touched by reverence; his fingers slow as they drag the cotton of your shirt over your head, grazing your skin all the way. His lips dancing across your collarbone as he undoes the front of your stupid fucking jeans. You just want them off, done with and laying in a pile to be forgotten about by the motel room door, but Eddie has other plans. 

“Slow.” He grabs your hip to stop your wiggling, fingers curled around the back of the waistband of them as he pulls the denim down your thighs. “We’ve got all night, baby. I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere.” 

“I want you,” you insist desperately, sounding like a broken record. Your distress is evident on your face, in the way you clench your thighs together to hide the obnoxious wet spot growing on your cotton panties. You wonder if he’d felt it when he was touching you over your jeans, if the heat and dampness had soaked through the denim as well. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Eddie ensures. “Don’t… I don’t want you to worry about it. M’gonna make sure there are no worries in that pretty head.” 

He yanks his t-shirt off, the one you’d bought him from the resale store. A cloud of frizzy, dark hair obscures his pretty face for half a second, the shirt landing on the floor somewhere off to the side, and then Eddie’s eyes find you again, grinning at you widely with pointed teeth.

You grab for him, your fingers looping around the chain that hangs from his neck. Tugging him down, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. Then to his sore jaw, where a tiny scab has formed on the right side of his chin. Then to his bruised cheek, where he flutters his eyes shut and groans softly at the brush of your lips. 

“My boy,” you whisper to him, and you don’t even know if he understands the significance of it to you. His girl. Your boy.  

Eddie smiles against your skin. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, down onto your chest, dragging his sharp teeth every once in a while just to hear you keen. You’re certain you’ve ruined your underwear now, feeling the wetness grow cool against your skin. 

What a fucking concept. Cool air. 

Eddie seems to have the same thought as you, as he slips his fingers beneath the white cotton and peels them down your legs. Strings of your arousal stick to the wet fabric, dropping off in thick tendrils onto the sheets below you as he groans lowly.

“Fuck,” Eddie curses, shaking his head in chastisement as he settles between your legs at the end of the bed. He tsks, “Just look at you, poor thing. Should’a said something to me, can’t have you going around like this.”

You shiver as he trails his mouth up the inside of your thigh. His day-old stubble scrapes your sensitive skin, making you break out in a cold sweat. “M’not- I didn’t want you to think-”

“That you’re easy?” He coos with a condescending smile. “No, honey. I know, you’re a good girl.” He nips at the widest part of your thigh, plush flesh indenting with the imprint of his teeth. “But I’m no good. You should know that, better than anyone. No good for you.”

Eddie’s tongue burns and soothes at the same time, leaving your brain a scrambled mess on the mattress beneath you. He gathers all of your collected arousal into his mouth, groaning like he’s been desperate to taste it all this time. “Been dreaming of this since I saw you, pretty girl.” 

Pulling your leg over his bare shoulder, he all but crushes you against his face, his sturdy hands wrapped around your hips to hold you still. Your back arched, your hips fully off the bed as he lifts your lower half into the air.

You choke out the first part of his name, your hands fisting in the comforter next to your head. There’s a twist of pleasure deep in your core that makes you whine far louder than necessary, a waterfall of words spilling from you before you can stop them, “Oh shit- Ed- I don’t- s’too good-”

“Too good?” Eddie snickers, eyes bright as he watches you from between your thighs. “Nothing's too good for you.” 

Then he spits onto your already soaked and swollen pussy. You sob, positively crying from the feeling of it, drenched and dripping along your sensitive flesh. Eddie spreads the wetness around with his tongue, and your cunt clamps down hard at the lewd squelch of it, the mortifying slurp of his lips closing down and sucking on your labia. 

“Oh fuck, what the fuck-” you whimper high to the ceiling, mouth hanging open in shock. 

You could have been doing this for days. He could have fucked you like this the first night, when you lay next to him, naked in the dark. Your body aches at the thought of being deprived of this longer than necessary.

“That’s it, baby, just stay still. Let me ruin you, huh?” Eddie murmurs, letting your thigh rest heavy on his shoulder so that he can move one hand, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit in front of his face. He watches your cunt glisten and throb for him, listening to your desperate sobs echo through the otherwise silent room, and whispers, “Shit. Like my own little fuckin’ pornstar, sweetheart.” 

Normally, you wouldn’t exactly take that as a compliment- but with the way he says it, with his voice thick and dark like that, and with the way the hot, slick velvet of his tongue dips into your channel and shoots electricity along your skin, you figure he must have meant it like one. 

He goes slow, thrusting into you gently, taking his time to get familiar between your legs. Still, it doesn’t stop you from positively shrieking toward the ceiling when he licks you from hole to clit, the entire expanse of his tongue sweeping along nerve endings that are charged like live wires. 

Eddie chuckles, hot breath spilling out over your feverish skin, and he pauses there. Lets you feel the warm press of his flattened tongue before he just barely rubs it back and forth, back and forth-

“Eddie-!?” You gasp, an erotically loud moan spilling out of your mouth right before you come all over his. You crumble, your hips threatening to buck out of his steady grip as searing euphoria rips through you. He scrambles, ringed fingers locking tight enough on your waist to bruise, keeping you against him as you thrash wildly. 

He keeps you like that for a long time, purring into your spasming pussy while an array of unhinged noises pour from your body- your mouth, your hands tearing at the sheets and at your head, your cunt and all its wet filth drenching Eddie’s bruised face. 

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. He just keeps going, and going.

Until something pounds against the wall behind your head. You hiccup, your dazed, post-orgasm brain unable to comprehend where the sound is coming from. That wasn’t- couldn’t have been me…

“Pretty sounds,” Eddie giggles as he finally pulls his mouth away from you. “Guess the neighbors agree.”

“Oh, god.” Your hands cover your face, hot and sticky with sweat. Your eyes feel heavy, fuck-drunk, your heart still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline of the orgasm Eddie gave you. You feel embarrassed, like you ought to be going over to apologize to whatever sorry person happens to be sharing a wall with you, now.

Eddie has other plans. “Think we should give the audience a good show, huh?”

It’s merely a suggestion- you know that you could always find a way to quiet yourself, stuff your mouth with cotton and stifle your moans- but the implication of it makes your toes curl. Your breath rattles in your chest when you inhale. “You… you want everyone in the building to hear you fucking me?”

Eddie crowds you on the bed, your legs still slung over his shoulders so that you’re bent nearly in half. He’s still too fucking clothed for your liking- his leather belt digs into the back of your thighs as he presses a sloppy kiss to your dry lips. “I want everyone here to know you’re mine, sweetheart.”

Your hands cradle his face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. Your over extended legs flop down onto the mattress, and you whine into his mouth as he massages his tongue with yours.

“I’m yours, Eddie,” you moan against his damp skin. “Oh god, I want it- want everyone to know.”

You take the initiative, with one last kiss turning in his grip. His hand slips, catching himself from toppling off the bed as you scoot onto your stomach, your knees planting on the mattress so that you can wiggle your hips up at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, smoothing a gentle palm over your ass before he kisses your lower back. He pauses, drawing soft kisses up your spine until his breath sweeps your shoulder blade. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

A quiet keen is the only answer you give him, shoving your hips backward to get him to just fucking touch you, but he pulls away too quickly. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, a zipper being pulled, and you tense, your hand closing into a fist around the pillow at the head of the bed. Following the rustle of clothes, you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper- you hadn’t even realized he had one. It didn’t even occur to you, in your dizzying need to fuck him, like some loveblind idiot.

You almost berate yourself for it, but then you feel his cock press against your entrance, and all those thoughts die away. He rolls his hips, and every single muscle in you tightens.

Eddie chokes on air as pleasure positively tears through you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth wide open and threatening to drool onto the pillow you’ve been shoved face-first into. 

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” It’s the only thing you can choke out around moans. He splits you so wide, dragging through your slick walls that are still so sensitive from your first orgasm. 

“Holy shi- oh my god-” he gasps behind you. “M’so sorry- I can’t- Feels so fucking good-”  

You groan, unable to form words to adequately answer him. All you can manage to do is jam your hips backward in an attempt to get him deeper, as far as he can fucking go inside you. Your body blazes, everything coming up smelling of sex and sweat as you wail hopelessly into the pillow.

Eddie snarls, a deep and dangerous noise in the back of his throat as he draws his hips back and presses into you again. There’s no time for you to adjust, each thrust a little more forceful than the last. His cock hits sharp heaven deep inside you, punching loud and guttural moans from you each time his hips impact your ass. 

“That’s a good girl- so ffffucking wet, goddamnit,” Eddie praises you through clenched teeth, ringed fingers and bruised knuckles wrapping loosely around your neck to lift your head from the pillow. “Let them hear all those pretty noises for me, baby.”

“Eddie…” You hiccup, your voice kicked up into a shrill whine. You swallow against the press of his fingers on your throat, holding your jaw into the air so there’s no place for your sounds to go but to the wall and through it. 

Above your head, the banging on the wall starts back up. Eddie drops your chin and slams his hand on top of the headboard, gripping tightly at plywood that threatens to hit the wall as he ruts into you. Your face hits the pillow again, but your sobbing moans still come out loud and disruptive as Eddie speeds up his hips in retaliation. 

“Doing so good f’me. Feel me, princess? So fucking deep,” Eddie groans. His cock licks up a sweet heat inside of you, and you know you’re going to come. He curses lowly, his hips pistoning into yours hard enough that you have to smack your hand into the headboard to keep from knocking into it. “Taking me so well. So perfect- s’like you were made for me, I know it, I just fucking know it…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist from behind, and he hauls your back into his sweat-slick chest. You almost feel weightless, for a moment, before you’re settled back into his lap, your thighs bracketing his as he kneels beneath you, clutching you against him. 

A gasp tears from your mouth with a loud, “Shit!” His cock hits a different spot inside you, bursting color behind your closed eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Eddie’s breath fans across your neck, sweat-damp hair tickling the side of your face. His hand greedily palms at your breasts, bouncing you in his lap as his tongue traces a wet line along your shoulder. 

“Just know you were made for me,” Eddie repeats quietly in your ear, his breath feeling like flames on your neck. “That’s why you found me, baby. You were meant to be mine, my girl.”

His girl.

“Yours, Eddie,” you blubber, reaching back to dig a fist into his hair as his hands squeeze your breasts. “M’all yours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, his voice saccharine and velvety. He moans in your ear when your cunt clenches down, a threatening throb at the outskirts of your orgasm. “Say it again.”

A whimper, high and needy in your throat. “I’m yours. Your girl- oh, f-fuck, Eddie- I’m gonna-” 

“That’s right. My good girl. Only easy when it comes to me, right?” 

Eddie’s hand drags purposefully down, fingernails dragging just through your pubic hair, just barely grazing where you want him- just like you did to him, that first morning. The realization makes you seize up, all tense from head to toe. 

“What’s it like, when I do it to you? You like it?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, a hiss through your teeth as you nod. His laugh is barely a ghost of a breath on your skin. “Yeah. I did, too.”

Eddie’s voice in your ear says, “Come for me,” and not even a fraction of you would deny him that.

His finger drags slowly your clit, calloused skin catching on the swollen bud, and you come. Your body slumps against him, and you’re so grateful for his arms around you to hold you through it. You’d swear he was splitting you in half with the sounds coming from your mouth. Your head tilted back on his shoulder, every breath is punctuated by a hoarse cry that breaks in your throat. Your hand clamps around his arm, which is still cradling you close to his chest as his own moans ring in your ear, his hips driving up into you as your cunt pulses around his cock. You know that he comes when his teeth wrap around the muscle of your shoulder and bite down.

Silence settles over your sweaty bodies, but thunderous banging is still furiously happening on the other side of the wall. You hear voices, words too muffled by the drywall to be intelligible, but they still sound angry.

Eddie won’t let you go, not yet. He’s clutching you, his mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, even though his teeth aren’t biting anymore. You pet his forearm, and lean forward just enough to knock lightly on the wall.

“We’re done!” Your voice cracks with the effort it takes to call out to the people on the other side.

“Fantastic show, my love. I think we deserve five stars.” Eddie laughs, nuzzling his face into your neck as he finally releases your shoulder from the trappings of his jaw. “I think I’m corrupting you, sweetheart.”

You hum, still petting his arm. “I think you already have, teddy.” 

Eddie freezes, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. “No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”

“What, teddy?” He nods. Your fingernails drag dully down his arm, tracing over a tattoo of a swarm of bats, which breaks out in goosebumps under your touch. “Is that… Can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, you can- you can call me teddy.”

It’s quiet after that. He rocks you in his arms until you kiss his knuckles and lift yourself gingerly from his lap, earning a pacified grunt from him as his softened cock slides out of you. You watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket a few feet away, then flops backward onto the bed so that his head hits the pillows. 

You chuckle, sliding forward to run your hands along his stomach. “Honey, you still have your pants on.”

He hadn’t taken them completely off, only pushed them down far enough to free his cock and have at you. What’s more, he still has his boots on, too- big, black motorcycle things that nearly hang off the end of the bed. 

Eddie grunts dismissively. “C’n deal with it in the morning.”

“No sleeping with clothes on.”

He huffs petulantly, but the scowl he tries to give you turns into a lovesick grin pretty quick. He tucks his hand behind his head in mock-nonchalance. “Hey, pretty lady. You come here often?”

“Once or twice, so far.” You grin at him as he laughs, rolling your eyes as you move down the bed to finish undressing him. You untie his boots and let them fall with his jeans and boxers onto the floor at the end of the bed, glancing up at him once you’re finished.

His eyes are closed. You don’t think he’s sleeping yet, but he’s flushed, covered in sweat. He’s still so much of an enigma to you, but you adore him. You’re enamored with him. 

You crawl slowly up the length of his body, feline-like in your movements. You appraise his tattoos, smoothing your hands over them as you go. You lean down and press featherlight kisses across his beautiful, bruised face. 

Eddie cracks his eyes open at you with an inquisitive smirk, just barely puckering his lips to kiss you back when you land one on them. “Feeling me up again, sweetheart?” 

You hum, kissing his chest. “You’re hot.” It’s the only explanation you afford him. And once he’s shut his eyes again, you carefully move down his body, peppering kisses across his naked torso.

“What’re you-?” He twitches when you drag your tongue over his cock, still wet and salty with his cum. He groans as you slowly lift it, suckling on the head gently. “Oh… Sweetheart, m’not… I don’t think I can-”

“I’m just cleaning you up, teddy,” you tell him gently. “S’okay. You can go to sleep.”

He hums tiredly, his hand lifting to run through your hair, stroking tenderly against the back of your head. “My girl just can’t keep her hands off, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you tell him, giving him another slow lick. “You’re just too fucking pretty, Eds.”

“And you’re too fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie only really falls asleep after he comes again.

I’m never gonna leave you, baby, even if you lose what’s left of your mind…

A few days later, the car breaks down in Colorado Springs.

It had been acting up for a while, of course. Even though you enjoyed watching Eddie when he was bent over the open hood, bare arms sweaty and streaked with grease in the afternoon heat, you knew it ultimately wasn’t going to end well. 

Each time Eddie tinkered with it, more and more concerning things came to light. “One of your cylinders misfired,” he said one time, shaking his head. He’d insisted on driving it from that point on. Another, “The fucking spark plug has gone out. We have to get a new one.” That was $75 you didn’t have to spare.

You guess the car had just fucking had it when you got to Colorado. You went to start it up at a truck stop, and the whole thing just sputtered and coughed at you, and then you didn’t have an engine anymore.

After Eddie paced around and cursed about it for a couple minutes, you both crawled into the back of the van and locked the door. And now you sit cross-legged across from each other, with everything of value that you have to your name in a little pile in front of you.

When you left home, you’d saved up a couple thousand to live off of until you got somewhere you felt comfortable working and living in. Since then, you’ve squandered it on food and motels and gas, never staying put and now rambling along with Eddie.

From the ATM, Eddie had stolen around two thousand dollars. He’s in the same boat as you, now looking at only a couple hundred in between the two of you. Hardly enough to afford a hotel room or bus fare for the both of you. Certainly not enough to get you a new car, or even rent one.

He scrubs his hands down his face, dirty fingernails pressing into his skin. “You should take it.”

“What?” You squint at him. 

“There’s enough here for bus fare for you, at least,” Eddie murmurs, his fingers poking at the pile and scooting it toward you. “Getcha where you want to go. Get a nice job at a tourist shop in Vegas or Santa Monica or something.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?” you snap. You swat his hand away from the pile, looking affronted. “I’m not taking the money, so cut it out. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he’s already made up his mind. “We had a deal. I fix your car, you take me with you. And I didn’t fix your car.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” you trail off, scrutinizing his expression. He won’t meet your gaze. He won’t look at you. 

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes like he’s a fish out of water. Then, he says bitingly, “Before we fucked?” 

You can feel all the emotion drain from your face, leaving you a blank, hollow screen with dead eyes just staring at him. It’s your best defense against bursting into tears at the very tone of his voice. 

When he glances at you, you can tell that he wants to take it back immediately. His teeth worry his bottom lip, ripping at chapped shreds of skin. “Don’t do me any favors, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a fucking favor- I thought we were doing this together.”

Eddie talks over you. “You don’t need to keep dragging me around with you, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Eddie, you’re being mean,” you croak at him. Not exactly the quick, biting wit that you can usually whip out- he’s shocked you.

He drops his eyes, his hands squeezing his knees. “Yeeeah,” he grumbles, his fingers tapping sporadically against his denim jeans. “Well, I told you, I’m no good for you. You didn’t listen.”

You told me that while your tongue was in my pussy. The words are balanced on the edge of your teeth, but they won’t fall out. Your hands itch to reach out for him, grab his chin and force him to look at you, somehow. 

Instead, they snatch up the little bit of cash from your side of the pile in between you. You crumple it in your hand and shove the wad into your jacket pocket before you grab the strap of your weather-beaten backpack full of the last things you have to your name, and kick open the back door of the van. 

It’s summer, but it’s windy in Colorado. It must be something about the mountains, you guess, and it being early morning. Condensation hangs in the air, making the air both heavy and cool as you breathe. Funny- if you slept naked, you’d probably have to curl up into each other for warmth, for a change. 

You’re either vibrating from rage or from the abnormal chill in the air. Standing on the street corner with the gas station sign lit up in neon behind you, you kick the crosswalk pole with your dirty converse. You’re still arguing with him, in your head. We were in this together, motherfucker. I told you, I’m your girl. I put all my eggs in your basket. Whatever fucking martyr complex this is, you can shove it right up your stupid-

“I know.” Eddie’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, his face buried in your hair as he whispers urgently into it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

So, you weren’t arguing with him in your head. You were actually yelling everything you were thinking, and he chased you as you stormed off. Seems about par for the course. 

“Fuck you, Eddie, did it even mean anything to you?” you blather at him, your voice thick with impending tears. “‘Cause it meant something to me.”

“Course it did,” he rasps at you, his arms squeezing you to him so tight that you’re running out of air to breathe. “I didn’t- I was being shitty. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Then don’t push me away.” The tears collect in your lashes, finally dripping down your cheeks. You turn in his arms and whack your hand flat against his chest. “Don’t treat me like some slut, don’t- I didn’t sleep with you just because I wanted you to fix my fucking car, you jerk.”

“I don’t think that,” Eddie insists quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “C’mon, now.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” he cuts you off. “And I didn’t mean it. I have a bad habit of throwing away the good things in my life, ‘cause… ‘cause of that martyr complex, you said-” He jams his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you hiccup, staring up at him with a wobbly lip. “Don’t let me throw you away. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, ‘n I don’t wanna lose you just because I’m an idiot.”

You sigh, your head falling neatly into the crook of his neck like it’s meant to be there. He’s too quiet, holding you against him at the street corner. Eddie breathes in deep and kisses the side of your head longingly. 

“I can get us a car.”

You lift your head to look at him. He wears a disappointed expression. “But we don’t have any money.”

“It won’t take money,” Eddie mumbles as he strokes your back. “I, uh… I didn’t want to end up like my old man, but…” he shrugs, his eyes cast away from you. He chuckles sadly. “Nothin’ I can do about that, now, I guess. I mean, look how you met me.” 

Oh. You can infer what he means by the far-off look on his face, like he’s resigned himself to his fate. You lift your hands to cradle his face; the bruise on his cheekbone has faded to yellow, the scab on his chin almost healed. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“You’re a good man, Eddie,” you tell him sternly.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be too sure of that. You might change your mind.”

‘Cause you know I’ll be right there beside you, riding through all these western nights…

The sedan isn’t exactly flashy, or new. It’s a tin can on wheels that’ll crumble into bits if you so much as side-swipe a trash can. You keep a lookout as Eddie jimmies an unwound wire coat hanger between the glass window and the door, and a second later the door is unlocked.

You’re unnervingly calm. How did you get to be so calm about all this? Stealing money, driving getaway cars, stealing other cars when those ones don’t work. Suddenly an accomplice to whatever illegal shit has to happen for you to get where you’re going.

What’s worse, you think, is how badly the sight of him hotwiring the car turns you on. It’s practically horrifying the way your skin crawls and your core burns as you watch his hands fiddle with the wires beneath the console, so quick that your mind can barely process it. You’re not sure if the adrenaline in your veins is from looking to see if anyone’s coming, or if it’s because you want to jump his bones.

"I swear to you," he's saying as he swipes at frayed wires, "I swear, when we get to San Francisco, I'll never- I'm gonna get an honest, real fuckin' job, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt yo-"

The car starts, and you leap into the front seat without giving it any more thought. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looks up at you, his brows tilted up expectantly. He’s still tucking wires back under the dashboard, preparing to take off once he gets the door shut.

“I slept with you because I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide as moons, glittering in the light of a fluorescent floodlight at the corner of the dark parking lot. 

“You don’t have to love me back,” you tell him honestly. “I just wanted you to know. I’m with you. And I’m not gonna leave.”

You don’t know if he loves you back- not yet, anyways. He doesn’t say it to you. But he kisses you like he does.

I'll be screaming your name past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate. Please don’t love how I need you, and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

[earthstellar]

Earth Music on the Lost Light: Human Music That Cybertronians Like

we know for a fact that the Lost Light has access to human media, primarily movies, TV shows, and music-- and we know they generally seem to fucking love most of it, or at least find it interesting

but what would everyone's tastes be, in regards to Earth music?

time to talk about music for a long time!!! strap in, enjoy some tunes

we already know Cyclonus has impeccable taste and enjoys some of the best jams the 80s had to offer.

I can't help but imagine Rodimus being given a media archive of Earth tunes to approve for the Earth Dance would only result in chaos

(it's not like he would say no to anything, he absolutely blanket signed it all, it's just an obligatory thing-- or Ultra Magnus tells him it is, solely to keep him away from Important Captain Things that he would rather handle himself or hand off to Megatron, lmao. the shit that really needs to get done)

and this is how Rodimus discovers the somewhat questionable yet amazing genre of "mid-90s underground techno rave mix tapes"

(somewhat related, I still think Testarossa might as well be Rodimus' theme song, although it's not a 90s track and has more of an 80s synth vibe)

Rodimus would love that "computers are the future, fuck yeah let's make Digital Cool Future Music" mid-90s shit, there is no way he would not. it has the exact energy level that appeals to him and is also cheesy and weird and chaotic. and has like 500 different sub-genres, so his selection is endless, lmao.

he would probably find it cute that this is what humans imagined to be the peak of "digital sound" at the time. like lmao this was the best humans could do when asked to create music that sounds like it was made by robots or other mechanical space future cyber lifeforms--high concept!!! he would probably find it interesting and endearing. this is what organics think non-organic music is like!!

anyone acting as DJ at Swerve's on any given night would be so, so mad that Rodimus keeps requesting shit like "DJ MASSIMO ITALO DISCO BEST RAVE TUNES LIVE FROM LONDON 1995" or "DJ ARMPIT SLUDGE FEST HOUSE-RAVE-DRUMS N BASS SET 1996" for them to play, lmao

not individual tracks. the whole album. entire mix tapes of random, somewhat questionable mid-90s techno house rave bullshit.

that having been said, that good ass early 90s trance techno might send him into a spiral depending on his mood at the time, lmao (it's been known to happen)

but at the same time I can imagine him sharing tracks like Solar Quest - Space Pirates with Drift and they'd both just sit there and jam out, but quietly, thinking about shit while sitting in a port window next to each other (this was peak sleepover party techno, Back in My Day-- many deep conversations were had while listening to stuff like this, lol)

Drift would probably find some of Rodmus' recommended stuff to be pretty good for meditation-- although once he finds out about the human drug culture involved and certain concepts of experimental consciousness etc. that surrounded techno/rave and other related genres, it might cause him to pull back a little bit

(until he finds out about kandi culture, in which case, Drift would love the idea of hand-made unique bracelets and sentimental trinkets being made and exchanged at warehouse shows purely out of Good Vibes and Love for Fellow Beings and it turns out actually he fucking loves this shit, a chill vibes based "expand your mind" kind of music subculture appeals to his Spectralist sensibilities and he likes sharing tunes with Rodimus in return)

Drift picking tracks on his own would likely lead him down more of a classic rock road, but more of the chill side of things, more of the folksy type of classic rock -- I can see Drift really enjoying Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum or California Dreamin' - The Mamas and the Papas. or like, Incense and Peppermints - Strawberry Alarm Clock.

I mean, Drift might even go Full Earth Hippie and end up liking Green Tambourine - Lemon Pipers, lmao. in fact I am fairly certain of this.

I can see Drift loving Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In - The 5th Dimension. the whole vibe would probably appeal to him.

he'd quite possibly also like I Need a Dollar - Aloe Blacc, but it hits him in a place that still hurts to think about. so it's in rare rotation.

meanwhile Ratchet would probably be fine with classic rock too, like the good Dad Rock shit, just a lot of tracks from the 70s/80s -- a couple tracks he and Drift could probably agree on would likely lean more into the experimental/psychedelic rock side of things, like White Room - Cream or something like Wheel in the Sky - Journey

Rodimus tries to troll Ratchet by recommending Old Time Rock n Roll - Bob Seger, but joke's on him because it turns out Ratchet loves it, lmao

Swerve would go all out on classic bar jams for the evening playlist. Chill, good shit like Do It Again - Steely Dan.

Megatron would love Sinnerman - Nina Simone; He'd send it to Drift in a command crew level secured data packet, and they would both feel the hell out of this song. They don't need to talk about why. They never mention it to each other.

Megs would also probably love These Old Bones by Dolly Parton (mostly due to the lyrics, rather than the upbeat tune, but he would find it relatively relaxing), as well as 9 to 5 (of course), and similar music. Country from back in the day when country music was more about the struggle of poverty and the working life of rural people. Country music from back when songs told all the untold stories. He can respect that.

He'd listen to You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive by Patty Loveless and it would get him right in the fucking spark. Megatron is the Cybertronian equivalent of an Appalachian miner, god dammit. He understands.

Megatron would also like Johnny Cash; He would overthink Ghost Riders in the Sky and it would depress him, partly because it reminds him of Seekers... sigh.

I think he'd also like Cold War - Janelle Monae. He'd be way into good lyrics; What's being said in a song matters most to him. "This is a cold war, you better know what you're fighting for..." Indeed.

anyway I like thinking about what jams Cybertronians might like from their available selection of Earth tunes

[spirit-lanterns]

I feel like. The majority of the Androids won’t have compatible parts of you know where I mean. There’s like. Literally nothing down there. Like a Barbie. And maybe. There’s an Android that ends up with Engineer that can get into her online stuff (computer, relevant accounts, etc) to order relevant parts. Maybe someone who can hack(?) if they know how to because it’s their original job before ending up with Engineer. But I don’t think we need to even go that far because it probably would be relatively easy to get Engineers password to her stuff from even just peaking over her shoulder (because Engineer doesn’t care enough that they’re looking, she doesn’t know this particular Android is self-aware, or both).

Cause I feel like, as an android engineer, she would have places to get parts from in cases where she needs to replace damaged ones.

And maybe she tends to always have lots of new parts coming in/ordered, she might not even notice the stuff the Androids snuck in to her next order.

Maybe a couple of Androids tend to help her sort through new shipments and put stuff away (cause there’s a lot) so they’re able to make off with their sneaky order without Engineer knowing.

It would be funny if they could figure out how to install the parts themselves (I’m sure there are online guides/how-to’s SOMEWHERE they can follow cause there’s no way there isn’t) (and maybe Engineer has an Android who’s job is also within the engineering realm so that makes things easier) but… it would be funnier if it’s harder than it looks cause Engineer makes fixing up the Androids seem easy.

Maybe they struggle with figuring out which tool would work for each one of them. Maybe there’s a specific tool/equipment that they need to use that Engineer would DEFINITELY notice them using and it’s not like. A small wrench they can make off with for a couple of hours.

It would be funny if they ordered the obvious parts but didn’t order the things that would actually make those parts attach properly (screws, etc. I’m not an engineer. I’m just yapping over here) or something. It would be funny if what they did order wouldn’t even work anyways without serious modifications to their current model (which basically means there’s better pieces that’ll go to how they already are. They don’t actually have to make huge adjustments. They ordered a size small shirt when they’re extra large, if that makes sense).

When Engineer inevitably finds them with their pants down (literally, mind you), surrounded by just a mess of parts and tools she’s like “what are you doing”

A: “Um-“

E: “Those won’t work.”

A: “What do you mean they won’t-“

E: “Those parts don’t even install correctly for your specific models.”

A: “Eh?”

Engineer isn’t even questioning about the… specifics of the part functions (right now, anyways. Once she’s out of ‘Engineer mode’, her brain will catch up to what she’s seen) but more of the installation.

Cue Engineer ordering the actually right parts and installing them herself. Face straight while doing it cause she’s in engineer mode and Not Thinking About It.

This is 100% a “and this is why we leave the installation and maintenance work to me” situation. It’s kinda like androids: no thoughts, head empty, engineer: the smart one (until the Androids get their hands on her. then it reverses).

Don’t bother figuring out who’s the girlfailure in this AU, Angey. Cause it’s all of them.

WOWIE. This is a very detailed and long ask, I’m pretty impressed :0

Anywho, it’s hilarious that the Android women want to fuck the Engineer so bad, they order additional “parts” (mechanical penises and vaginas) off the Engineer’s card and try to assemble it themself to surprise her. 😭😭

Unfortunately for many of them however, many of them lack the expertise in Android engineering, as they have no clue how to attach said parts to themselves without complicating things further. The only Android I can think of that would be pretty good at assembling their own parts, would be Serval. So now I’m imagining Android! Serval trying to teach and direct all the Android women on how to attach their new genitals, so they can surprise the Engineer when she gets home.

Well, things don’t go as planned because once the Engineer comes home, she just sees the Android HSR women sitting on the floor and various counter tops with their pants off, different mechanical parts scattered across the room with only Serval having successfully implemented her mechanical genitals on her own. The Engineer then proceeds to attach each and every woman’s parts correctly, and walk them through on how to do it if they wish to swap out in the future for something else.

She’s not even embarrassed because she’s entered “work mode” while attaching everyone’s parts, so the gravity of the situation doesn’t hit her until she gets in bed that night. And that’s when she realizes; “Oh my god. My Androids are planning to fuck me.”

I applaud the Engineer’s dedication to her craft, though 😅

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

ATIA for masturbating next to my friend?

Sorry for TMI, but I don’t really feel comfortable talking to anyone about this IRL

I (F16) have been friends with Amy (F16) for a couple years ago. We have sleepovers every other week but it’s always been at my house because I get anxious when I have to spend the night away from home. I told Amy this and she said she understands, but she would keep extending the invite for me to spend the night at her house hoping one day I would be comfortable enough to accept. A few days ago she invited me again and I accepted.

We had fun watching movies and baking cookies and playing video games and then it was time to sleep. Amy has two couches in her living room (they make an L shape) and she slept on one and I slept on the other (I was on the | couch and she was on the __ couch, with our heads next to each other). We stayed awake for a couple hours talking but Amy seemed to fall asleep before me, because I asked “Hey? You awake?” a couple times and she didn’t answer.

I was nervous about sleeping in a new place and knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep any time soon, so I turned away from Amy and faced the couch and flicked the bean. It was not sexy, I was not aroused, I didn’t make any mess or noise. It was very mechanical and matter of fact, just to distract myself and hopefully make myself sleepy. It took a while because like I said I wasn’t turned on at all, or even thinking of anything in particular, just trying to get it over with and go to sleep. I finished and fell asleep afterward.

I didn’t wake up until noon the next day and I woke up to Amy calling my name and telling me my mom was there to pick me up. I asked her why she didn’t wake me up so we could hang out more that morning and she just shrugged. I got dressed and got my stuff together and went to hug Amy goodbye but she dodged my hug and said my mom was waiting for me.

I texted her that night asking if we were all good because she was acting weird, and she said it was fucking gross that I touched myself with her in the room. That she was going to burn the sheet I slept on and blankets I slept under and that I was probably a pervert that wanted her older brother to walk in and catch me doing that (which confused me because I don’t even really know her brother?? He’s usually away at college I’ve only seen him like twice and said maybe 5 words to him in total)

I tried to tell her I’m sorry, that I was just anxious and it’s what I usually do when it’s late and my mind is racing and I can’t sleep and I never would have done it if I knew she was awake and all this other stuff but I think she blocked me :( AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[ranticore]

reading your pern fic (OBSESSED btw) and you seem to have a really good grasp on flight / flight dynamics & the physics of it. and it's incredibly hard to find a resource for more realistic dragonriding - would you mind sharing some of your knowledge, terminology, that sort of thing? i guess this is me asking you to infodump about dragon flight/riding to your heart's content lol

>:) I waited until I was on pc to answer this one

Background information about me is that I've a long history with horse riding, a love for birds, and a special interest in.... aviation (in case that wasn't obvious)

to write a dragon riding scene I kind of synthesise all of these elements - to know what it's like to work alongside a steed (balance, cooperation), to know what it's like for a bird to fly (responding to the shape of the air) and also to know basically how flight at speed affects people (g-forces, air pressure, hypoxia) as well as essential flight mechanics (the basic 'how do wings work' thing)

So for a wing to work, the air must be flowing over its surface at a speed which creates a pressure difference which then causes lift. That's very simplified but u get it - the low pressure that develops on top of a wing kinda sucks the wing upwards. That means that in flight, you have a minimum speed where lift can persist. Dropping below that speed will cause a stall (lift stops) because that pressure difference won't exist. When you climb, you lose speed, which means at a certain critical point, the wings stall. Diving back down again will increase speed, increase lift, and then you'll go up again. I recommend looking up some videos or something because i'm not the best at explaining it haha

The air itself is also important to consider and i think it's the key of what brings it all together. Air is always spinning around the margins of a wing. It's why I always use descriptions like "whirling" and "churning" and stuff like that, it's to evoke the spirally vortex that generates in the wake of a flying object. You can see the vortexes sometimes when the low pressure over a wing changes the dew point in the air, causing condensation to form:

this "tube" of air is a rapidly spinning vortex which forms when lift is happening - it's always there, but only this condensation makes it visible. next time you're on a plane coming in to land, watch and see if you can spot one, and notice that the moment the spoilers come up on the wing, the vortex stops, because lift is no longer being generated. The wingtip vortices cause drag which is why many planes have devices at the wingtips that point up, it reduces the vortices and saves on fuel!

Big wings make bigger vortices and this is what causes wake turbulence.

you can see here really clearly the shape of the air in the wake of the plane, two big churning vortices that grow and spread out with distance until they're negligible. But flying directly into these vortices will cause a smaller aircraft (or dragon) to experience that turbulence, think of it like the wake of a large boat causing waves that might capsize a kayak. Turbulence, wind shear, etc these are all fluid dynamics in the air. Something that bores me in flight scenes (and sooo many flight scenes are guilty of this) is "dead" air, air which doesn't exist as anything other than an empty medium for something to basically levitate weightlessly through. It takes power and effort.

Back to birds - unlike planes, birds have a great degree of flexibility over how they approach the air, but their wing mechanics are convergent. Birds also extend high-lift devices to fly slowly without stalling (their alula). They can catch and exploit many of the wind forms which would throw a plane of similar size out of the sky. Thermals are an obvious one to write about, these are columns of rising air that form over a warm surface. Soaring birds use high-lift devices on their wings (the slotted primary feathers) to catch the thermal and ride it without having to flap at all. This is how the bronzes work.

Queen dragons in my story fly at the bottom of the column when in battle, really close to the ground - they actually exploit the ground effect to fly that low. Within one wingspan of the ground, the high pressure zone that forms under the wings acts as a cushion, because there's nothing under it but solid ground. This means lift can be maintained in conditions where normally it would not work - low in the air, the air pressure is dense and drag is a major factor.

Air pressure is another thing to consider but that's relatively intuitive. More pressure, more drag, slower flight, more energetically-costly flight, etc. The ceiling for 'breathable' air is about 10,000 feet. Now we have to think about the rider - have you ever stuck your head out of a car window at high speed and tried to breathe? If you've ever cornered fast on a bike you'll know how it feels to bank, more or less. Your weight increases the more Gs you pull, because gravity is intensifying for you. For the physical effects on the riders I looked into fighter pilots, stuff like G-lock, what kinds of forces someone can withstand before their body starts hurting lol.

in short: flight is a complicated battle against gravity and the air is alive

[4wkjun]

daddy sim | sjy

Chapter 5: Congratulations. ➥ Contains: angst if you squint, mentions of abortion, crying, swearing. ➥ Word count: 2.9k ➥ Taglist: @animnaim

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June 16th, 2022 Thursday

You and Jake did something quite unusual for the first time in a while: you missed the class. Not that you didn’t want to be absent every once in a while — every student does, especially as the semester comes next to the end —, it’s just that the two of you had so much going on that you couldn’t afford to miss stuff daily.

Jake held your hand as you waited for the doctor to call you inside. You booked an appointment as soon as you could, in the first clinic available you found — that one being almost forty minutes away from your place.

“Your hands are so cold”, Jake said quietly, holding both of your hands between his. “Is it nervousness or just the air conditioner?”

“I don’t know”, you responded with a faint smile. Jake pouted, caressing your hands.

The both of you stayed quiet, not needing to say anything for the next ten minutes.

“Where’s y/n?”, Jay asked confused as he placed his backpack on the empty stool. Chaewon bit her bottom lip, nervous about lying right into his face.

“I don’t know”, she shrugged. “She didn’t answer my texts, maybe she overslept.”

“I hope she’s fine.”

“She probably is”, Chaewon sighed. She really hoped for that.

“Choi y/n?”, the doctor called standing in the hallway.

Your hands got even colder as you and Jake got up, following her almost mechanic voice. The fake sympathy behind the doctor’s and nurse’s tone always made you uncomfortable.

“Please, follow me”, she smiled.

You did, Jake’s hand never leaving yours. The doctor’s office was ridiculously white for your liking, every piece of furniture bright enough for your eyes to burn. Everything about that place made you want to run away.

“Please, take a sit”, the doctor pointed towards the cushioned chairs in front of her glass desk. “I’m Dr. Shin Minju, it’s really nice knowing you.”

“Our pleasure”, you mumbled — the most polite way you could.

“Ok, Choi y/n and...?”

“Sim Jaeyun”, Jake responded. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Good”, Dr. Shin smiled. “How can I help you today?”

You sighed, not expecting the doctor to be that direct.

“I think I might be pregnant”, you said reluctantly. Dr. Shin nodded, writing on her computer.

“Have the two of you performed unprotected sex?”

“No, we always used condoms”, you blushed.

“No other methods along?”

“Nope.”

She only hummed, nodding.

“I’m gonna need you to fill out a form with your medical and family history, use of medication, information about possible travels, and your lifestyle. I need you to be 100% honest.”

“No problem”, you mumbled.

Dr. Shin handed you the clipboard with three sheets of questions. Your eyes got big because you were not expecting anything that detailed during your first appointment — especially because you weren’t 100% sure about the pregnancy with only a pharmacy test. It took you around ten awful minutes of awkward silence to finish the form.

“Everything seems to be normal, except for your unregulated periods, ms. Choi”, she hummed after quickly eyeing the pages. “We’re gonna need a few exams to be sure about your pregnancy, some of them not being as nice as expected.”

“As “not nice”, you mean...”

“A transvaginal ultrasound and some blood drawing.”

You wanted to whine, but instead, you only nodded and tried to look fine. The Dr. didn’t have to know that you were completely scared at that moment.

“I’m gonna need you to relax, ms. Choi”, Dr. Shin muffled behind her mask.

You were lying down on the stretcher, your legs ridiculously far apart from each other for your liking and Jake as a statue right next to your head. His hand was cold against yours — which was unusual, since Jake was always burning hot —, showing you how nervous he truly was.

The Dr. didn’t give you a heads-up before actually starting the exam, making your eyes shut close as she moved the transducer inside of you. That didn’t hurt but was pretty uncomfortable. Jake gave you a peck on the forehead, just to remind you that you were not alone.

“Yup, I do see a gestational sac, ms. Choi”, she muffled. Her tone was happy and you held your tears. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you”, Jake answered. His happy tone made you turn your head towards his direction.

His eyes were fixated on that grayish screen — even though he could not understand what was what —, his smile big. His hand squeezed yours and you noticed his eyes shining as two pearls.

Wait, what?

“We’re still gonna have to perform a few exams and tests just to be sure the both of you are gonna be fine for the next weeks. The most usual way to calculate the gestational age would be by using the date of your last period, however, since that may be a little confusing in your situation, we’re gonna use the size of the sac to have a little bit of a better expectation around your due date.”

“Is the due date the day the baby should be born?”, Jake asked, genuinely curious.

“No, it is the date the mother should be 40 weeks pregnant”, she responded in her mechanic voice, taking shots of the screen. “Ms. Choi, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just... A little shocked”, you admitted.

Dr. Shin nodded, removing the transducer and then her gloves. She waited until the machine printed the tiny ultrasounds and handed them to Jake.

“I’m gonna give you some privacy so you can change into your original clothes again”, she smiled. “I’ll wait for you next door so we can discuss the possibilities.”

“Thank you”, you said with a faint smile.

Jake pecked your cheek before leaving the room with the doctor.

“Ms. Choi, do you have any intentions of keeping this fetus?”, she asked as soon as you sat yourself down next to Jake. Your eyes got big and Jake’s heart felt tight.

“I guess I do”, you responded quietly.

“You guess you do?”, she asked, sharp as a knife. “You know, here in South Korea, abortions are legal. You don’t have to keep the fetus if you don’t want to.”

Jake stayed quiet. You remembered his words last night, where he gave you signals about wanting to keep it. But he didn’t really say the words.

“Do you want to keep it?”, you asked Jake even quieter.

“I do, love”, he almost whispered back. “But we don’t have to. It’s not just about me.”

You sighed and shook your head with a subtle smile.

“We’re gonna keep it”, you told the doctor — you sounded more confident in your head, but that’s ok.

“Sure”, she smiled. “There is no limit for you to terminate the pregnancy, though”, she added. “I just need you to be sure about what you want, ok?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna keep it”, you repeated.

“Has she texted you?”, Yunjin asked Chaewon as they waited in line to buy their food.

“No. You?”

“No”, Yunjin sighed. “I’m worried. Do you think she did something stupid?”

“Not really”, Chaewon sighed as she walked a little closer to the cashier. “Maybe she found a doctor.”

“That fast?”

“Desperate times, I guess.”

Yunjin nodded, pouting. She looked around to make sure your friends weren’t around.

“Do you think she’s gonna keep it?”

“I don’t know”, Chaewon turned around to face Yunjin. She looked worried. “I think she’d only abort it if maybe Jake said he doesn’t want a baby.”

“Do you think he wants a baby?”

“I don’t even think y/n wants a baby.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean “why?”, girl?”, Chaewon laughed without humor. “We’re young and broke. Besides, she told me yesterday she’s afraid of moving way too fast with Jake.”

“We are broke, Jake’s family has money”, Yunjin reminded. Chaewon nodded with a pout.

The line moved again and she placed her tray on top of the counter. The cashier smiled in a fake way as Chaewon handed her a crumpled bill. Yunjin followed her right after, rushing towards Chaewon so they could sit with their friends.

“Let’s talk about something else, huh?”, Chaewon whispered. “They don’t know and they won’t know by us.”

“Sure thing.”

“Babe?”, Jake called as you sat at the bus stop.

“Yeah?”

“Did you tell the doctor you want to keep it because of me?”

Your eyes fixated on the road, your mind running miles.

“No”, you concluded. “I think I want to do this.”

“But... Now? With me?”, Jake asked. You pouted, still not looking at you.

“You don’t want it, do you?”, you asked him with your teary eyes.

“What? Y/n, of course, I want to”, Jake reassured quickly, squatting in front of you. He held your face with his both hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were upset when you found them. “There is a lot in our minds right now, hm? I don’t want you to feel like your life is over because of me, love. If you want to take this step and start a family, I’m all in. If you don’t, I’m still all in. I’d take anything you decide to give me.”

“What if I ruin your life?”

“Not possible.”

“Jake, I mean it”, you whined. The tears won the battle, falling down your cheeks. Jake’s thumbs were fast to catch them.

“So do I. I’m trying my best not to say creepy stuff like “I want to grow old with you” because you only gave me a real chance around a month ago”, he scoffed. “But that’s the truth, y/n. Hopefully, you’re falling for me right now, but I’m a sucker for you for the longest time.”

You threw your hands around Jake’s neck, hugging him close. He almost fell to his knees down the cement floor, surprised by the sudden action.

“I love you, Jake”, you whispered. “I’m not saying it because of this whole mess, I really mean it.”

Jake’s heart suddenly got warmer, filled with love and happiness.

“I love you even more, pretty”, he responded. He smiled, softly pushing you away from his grip. “I promise I’ll try my best to make you the happiest woman alive.”

June 18th, 2022 Saturday

“Hi, you reached Kanemoto Seoyun”, your mom’s robotic voice chanted across the phone. You sighed. Of course, voicemail. “Please tell me how can I help you after the beep.”

“Hey mom, it’s me... Y/n. I need to talk to you, could you please call me as soon as possible?”, you mumbled. “I know you’re having a lot to deal with in Tokyo, but I wouldn’t reach out for you if it wasn’t important, so...”

You sighed. Not knowing how to finish that awkward sentence, you just hang up. You threw yourself onto the couch, shutting your eyes close. It took you two full days to gain courage enough to call your mom, it sucked that she wasn’t available for you at the moment. Jake was at the gym, so thankfully he didn’t watch as you humiliated yourself for a second.

You stopped to think about the last two days. You told Chaewon and Yunjin it was indeed the truth — you were pregnant — and they seemed actually a little excited. You watched as Jake’s world turned into a bright yellow in pure happiness as he kneeled in front of you and kissed your tummy non-stop after a few hours. You realized you were shocked, not fully understanding the meaning of the word “pregnant”. You knew — at least your rational side — that you were creating a whole body inside of yours, a whole new life with expectations, needs, and desires, but your mind wasn’t ready for it. You knew, but it didn’t feel true.

Lots of new concerns ran across your head now. You were worried about what Jake’s family would think of you — Jay said something about them being religious —, you were worried about giving this baby everything your mom never gave you — love and attention being the top two! —, you were worried about not being able to educate a human being, and the worse of it, you were worried Jake was gonna back out anytime soon. You could handle it with him, but never by yourself. You grew up without your father since he passed away in a motorcycle accident when you were three, and honestly, your mother was miserable until she found her new husband — Kanemoto Kyouhei, a real estate agent who recently transferred to Seoul and sadly fell onto your mom’s spell. Poor bastard.

Tired of your thoughts, you wandered around the house doing random chores while Jake was out. You took every dirty piece of clothing out of Jake’s bedroom floor and shoved it inside the washing machine, vacuumed the floors, and did the dishes. You felt so close to the edge, so lost. Gosh, you could use some help.

“Hi, love”, Jake greeted as he entered the house. He threw his phone and keys on the sideboard and put his shoes away, smiling at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, why?”, you asked, rinsing a cup.

“You should probably rest”, Jake shrugged.

“Why?”

“Babe, you’re pregnant”, Jake declared as the most obvious thing on earth. You placed the cup on the dish drainer and looked at him, confused.

“Yeah, but I’m not sick.”

“I read online you won’t be able to sleep well as time goes by”, he explained, walking towards you. He turned you around so you could face him and pecked your lips. “You should enjoy while you can, hm?”

You smiled, shaking your head. It was amazing how Jake’s presence made you comfortable, without a single worry in mind. Before you could answer, Jake squatted down and lifted your shirt, exposing your — still pretty flat — stomach. He gave it the sweetest kiss, caressing the skin right after.

“Hi, baby. This is your daddy, remember me? I talked to you last night”, he whispered. “Your mom pretends to be tough, but she’s fragile. Please, give her an easy time as you grow, ok?”

You caressed his scalp, smiling. Even though your lips were curved up, your eyebrows curved down and tears fell out of your eyes.

“Why am I crying?”, you whined, crying harder.

Jake laughed, getting back up to hug you.

June 19th, 2022 Sunday

“Hi, y/n”, your mother greeted through the phone. You sighed before saying it back. You slowly closed your bedroom’s door, not really wanting Jake to listen while you were on the phone with the woman who gave you life. “I’m sorry for taking so long to return your call, things got hectic around here...”

“That’s fine, mom”, you responded. “I assumed you were busy...”, you said while sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Thank you for being understanding”, your mom sighed — almost sounding truly relieved. “So, how’s everything going?”, she asked. Cut to the chase.

“Things are... Good. Unusual, but good”, you shrugged. Your fingertips started playing around with your sheets and you took a mental note to change them. “Jake and I are together”, you told her.

“Together as...?”

“As a couple, mom.”

“Oh”, she said. And then stayed quiet for almost a minute. “Are you happy?”

“I am”, you said truthfully.

“That’s great, then.”

“Yeah, it is...”, you agreed. “But...”

“But what?”, she cut you off, her voice not as nice by now.

You didn’t answer, incapable of elaborating an answer. The tears showed up again and you opened your mouth to breathe without letting her know you were about to have a breakdown for the nth time.

“Y/n?”

“Mom, I...”, you sighed. The lump in your throat spoke volumes and your mom sighed.

“God, tell me you’re not pregnant, y/n”, she scolded. You let a sob out, confirming her suspicion. “Oh, no.”

“It was an-”

“Of course, it was an accident, are you insane?”, she nearly yelled. Your heart sank because you were not about to say it was an accident. You were gonna tell her it was an unexpected situation, but everything would be just fine. “Are you gonna marry him?”

“What?”, you sobbed, confused. “I don’t know...”

“For Christ’s sake, y/n. Can’t you get enough of your sins?”

“Sins?!”, you whined. “What are you talking about?”

“Gosh, I knew I shouldn’t allow you to live alone with a boy. That’s my fault”, she groaned. You tried to take a deep breath, shaking your head.

“Look, I gotta go. I know you’re not happy with it — and I wasn’t expecting any different —, but I just can’t have this conversation right now.”

And without another word, you hung up and turned your phone off. You silently walked into Jake’s room, only to find him with his glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he looked down to check his students’ last exams. He looked up at you, only to frown in preoccupation as he realized your face was washed out in tears.

“What happened, love?”, he asked, slowly pushing his chair away from his desk. He tapped his thigh and you walked towards him, sitting on his lap. His arms crossed around your body, caressing your lower back.

“I just called my mom”, you muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m assuming she didn’t love the news”, he said — trying to be funny. You nodded. “I’m sorry, babe. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Stay with me”, you responded in a low tone. Jake kissed your shoulder and held you tighter.

“I would never go anywhere without you.”

[aviivix]

IMPORTANT EDIT MAY 18 2024

A lot about this has changed since I originally wrote this up, especially around act 3 since while right now it’s still up in the air between a few different ideas, the act 3 in this post is cringe-tier and I’m embarrassed for having wrote it. Another significant enough change to mention here is that old Agent 3 and Agent 8 now join Off the Hook as antagonists, and recruiting “enemy” Octolings is now a core mechanic that the story anchors around more heavily. Also, Cy actually looks good now.

I’ll do a revised writeup of this at some point, but for now, take most of this with a grain of salt! A lot has changed. Now, flashback to about a year ago!

Soooo... I’ve been dead for a while and that’s because I’ve been fixated entirely on Splatoon 3 basically since it launched and all this time I’ve been working on an AU/HC/Fanfic/Something Like That called Culture Shock.

Given this has been something I’ve been working on for a LONG time, and given it’s entirely tied to Octarians, I figure I might as well make a big post about it before Side Order totally invalidates it! (Though I’ll keep working on this as an AU even if I don’t like how it interacts with Side Order.)

Details and more art under the break! (Though the quality will vary greatly as, again, I’ve been doing stuff with this since Splatoon 3 came out.) This is an extremely long story concept and if you read the whole thing I officially owe you my soul

There's a LOT to this (as there is with any hyperfixation concept like this) but I'll try to keep it somewhat light on details. Of course, it’s subject to change, and the exact plot progression is still kind of in the air. A big part is whether the climax of Act II should actually happen at the end of Act I... But here’s what I’ve developed so far.

The Story

Prologue

Culture Shock is designed as a DLC story mode set a year after the end of Splatoon 3's main story. The Squid Sisters have disappeared at some point in that time (a familiar situation), and ol' Cuttlefish has called in all of the agents-- plus Pearl and Marina-- to join forces against the Octarians that are undoubtedly behind it. Rather than going into stages alone, the levels are designed for you to do them with CPU teammates.

It's pretty quickly made certain that Octarians were involved, and thus the group is airlifted by Off the Hook into Octo Valley to find Callie and Marie. Upon landing, the player is ambushed by a group of Octolings -- that is, until one member in the backline pulls down her mask and excitedly calls out. It’s Callie? And though she doesn’t immediately unmask, Marie is definitely next to her.

After some confusion and accusations from both sides, the Squid Sisters assure the Squidbeak Splatoon that they’re not brainwashed, and offer to explain everything. Though Marie warns that it’s a long story, so the group settle down by ol’ Cuttlefish’s shack for a massive flashback played from the perspective of the Squid Sisters.

(Gameplay-wise, this whole setup is to allow the player to interrupt the Squid Sisters’ sequence at any time, and then pick up where they left off. It being a flashback also means it’s easy to replay missions or go for 100% by just asking Callie to repeat something.)

Funny title card, and the real story officially starts. I’m gonna skip through things a lot more, since at this pace it would take WAY too long to summarize every little scene and there are a lot of things not really settled on. I’ll be keeping detail for the introduction, as well as some key scenes, but for any less important/in-between type stuff, I’ll be summarizing what happens. Even doing this it will be extremely long, though Act I is far bigger than Acts II and III because it’s primarily setting up the world and motivations.

Act I

Introductory cutscene, in which the Squid Sisters find themselves stuck in purple ink, locked in an Octarian vault. The Octarians who squidnapped them keep their distance, though one particular Octoling does try to chat (to the annoyance of the others).

She claims that the Octarians will let them go in time, and that they won’t be hurt - though the Squid Sisters are suspicious at best. And, after noticing their discomfort in the Octarian ink, she offers them her Octoshot to paint the ground their own color. As the Octoling goes back to standing guard, Callie inks the floor and the two slump over, one of them idly singing the Calamari Inkantation under her breath.

Fade to when the Octoling swaps guard duty with another Octoling, who leans up against the wall and, after the first Octoling leaves, promptly falls asleep. Callie realizes she still has the Octoshot from before, and suggests slipping through the keyhole in squid form. With help from Marie, she’s able to get out on her own, and sets out to find the key to the vault. (This serves as a tutorial for stealth missions - though the guard will not wake up even if you fail.)

After freeing Marie, the two of them head towards the door, whispering about how crazy it was that the guard slept through all of that. The guard then dully tells them that he wasn’t asleep. The Squid Sisters prepare for a fight, but the guard barely has his eyes open and has not moved. After some back and forth with Callie, this Wendy’s employee of an Octoling just assures them that if he could beat them, it wouldn’t have even gotten to this point, and tells them to do whatever they want - just warning them that the other Octarians wouldn’t be so lenient.

An Octoling watches them come out, but just looks around frantically before running up to meet them. Marie declares that they’re breaking out, and prepares for a fight... but the Octoling starts freaking out instead, first worrying that they’ll get hurt trying to escape, and then worrying about what the rest of the Octarians are going to do with the Squid Sisters gone.

Before either Inkling can interject, a much more stern Octoling calls out while angrily marching up to the group. Through this conversation the Squid Sisters learn that the worried Octoling is named Aris, the tired Octoling is named Oregil, and this new more angry Octoling is named Cy. What originally seemed to be a jailbreak quickly turns into some (rather silly) negotiations with Cy, the Squid Sisters trying to convince her that Aris didn’t do anything wrong, and that Oregil totally did all he could to stop them.

Though Cy clearly doesn’t buy it, she lets it go, returning Aris’s Octoshot but also warning the Squid Sisters that their squadron’s mission is of utmost importance, and if the rest of them won’t do their jobs properly, she will. That said, the two of them just broke out of the only vault they had. So now, the Squid Sisters have to just stay in camp under Cy’s supervision.

With no more weapon to brandish and a clearly blown cover, the two of them kind of have no choice but to agree. Though Marie alludes to how dysfunctional this squad appears to be, and how easy it will probably be to escape.

Though before the conversation ends, Aris asks if “Tetra” will be okay with this. There’s a sort of tension in the air immediately upon mention of the name, immediately pierced by an intimidating voice asking what was going on. This was an Elite Octoling, apparently Tetra. After a recap from Cy, Tetra turns to the surrounded Squid Sisters, and tells them in no uncertain terms to always remember that they are prisoners - they are not one of them.

From here on out, the rest of Act I is a sort of slow burn. At the start, it’s purely the Squid Sisters looking for ways to escape. But as time goes on, they learn more about these Octarians by sort of living their life, and through learning about the octo squad themselves.

Aris is kind, possibly to a fault. While she’s committed to the squadron and their goals, she’s also the most both-sides-ist of the bunch. She wants to think that everyone is trying their best, and does everything she can to avoid conflict, but as a result she doesn’t speak up as much when the Squid Sisters make faulty assumptions about them, and she uninentionally hinders their growth at the start by letting them hide behind her leniency. Over the course of Act I, she eventually has to realize she can’t just hold everyone’s opinion equally - the Squid Sisters are making judgements off of bad information, and she realizes that her enabling that is making it harder for everyone.

Cy is the opposite. Cy is deeply passionate about their situation, and takes any opportunity to show the Squid Sisters what they get wrong. She especially butts heads with Marie, having little patience for the various non-solutions to their problems, or for the ignorance about Octarian culture. She’s extremely well connected among Octarians, even having worked with Octavio himself, although she doesn’t seem thrilled about it. Thus, despite coming across as very headstrong and aggressive, she also is the source of a lot of information about Octarian life.

Oregil is a self-proclaimed realist - in actuality, a doomer. He doesn’t say much, but what he does say is not particularly hopeful. When put in charge of something, he doesn’t tend to have a lot of energy behind it, as he’s become convinced that, in the end, Octarians cannot be saved. That said, it would be wrong to call him fully complacent. He still sticks with the team, even if he doesn’t have much energy to contribute, and would rather go down with his sinking ship than abandon his friends and family. Though he always seems to be napping on the job, he never actually does, though not for lack of trying. He has insomnia, and it’s rare to find him asleep at all even when laying in bed.

The Elite Octoling Tetra rarely shows herself. The only things the Squid Sisters have seen of her is that she’s intimidating, and not to be reckoned with. But the way the others talk about her and interact with her betray a different story. Oregil is flippant about her commands and doesn’t actually give anything his all. Cy goes along with Tetra’s commands, but seemingly only due to her own reasons aligning with Tetra’s rather than out of any respect for her authority. Aris obeys, but the way she acts and talks about it makes it almost feel like she’s obeying out of pity.

Lastly, there is also a fifth mysterious Octoling that the Squid Sisters will occasionally grab a passing glimpse of. They don’t know who this Octoling is, and whenever she’s mentioned, the others assure them that “she’s nobody”.

As the act goes on, Callie especially pries deeply into the hows and whys of a lot of Octo stuff. She had been in Octarian territory before in Splatoon 2, sure, but she was being brainwashed by DJ Octavio himself and held up as a superstar. This time, she was fully aware of herself, and living the life of the average Octoling soldier in the time between Octavio’s Zapfish heists.

The two of them wonder why the sun hasn’t come up, and learn that without the Great Zapfish, the kettle’s “sun” cannot shine. It’s a land of eternal night. The Octolings seem to live on a diet of mostly power eggs and salmon, which they learn is because without light, most crops don’t grow. Many little things like this illustrating just how resource-starved this nation is.

There are a lot of assumptions made and corrected. A lot of complaints put into perspective when the things they find uncomfortable or annoying are things these Octarians have had to deal with every day. But one of the biggest things is their ideas of resolution. An early question being, “Why don’t you just leave? Inkopolis is a stone’s throw away.”

There are a lot of answers that are given to this, but to some effect, they all boil down to “culture”. Inkopolis isn’t the same as Octaria. It has different people, different history, different fashion, different food, different expectations... it’s just a totally different place.

Oregil’s lived in Octarian society his whole life - it’s his home. Cy is an artist, she makes distinctly Octarian music and sees firsthand how it connects those in Octarian communities. Aris knows Octolings are “accepted”, but only insofaras they appeal to Inkling expectations. It’s hard to express their culture without being seen as weird or other. Even little things like how they look - Octolings in Inkopolis tending to make their hair slimmer, straighter, adding patterns and minimizing the amount of visible suckers. Plus, how many non-Octoling Octarians do you see in Inkopolis and beyond? Maybe an Octoling can fit in, but what about an Octotrooper?

The most impactful realization for the Squid Sisters as well, is just how few Octarians are even there anymore. Between the exodus in Octo Valley, the bigger exodus in Octo Canyon, the horrors of Octo Expansion, and just recently the similar horrors of Alterna... all stacked on top of the nation itself being less and less hospitable year by year? Since the events of Splatoon 1, so many Octarians have been lost. Within the squad they’re in, pictures and murmurings from the rest of them tell the stories of at least four other Octolings that were previously in their squadron.

So then the other aspect of the Squid Sisters’ arc is... if they don’t think Octarians should be stealing the Great Zapfish or dealing with Salmonids or anything like that... what should they be doing?

Because so far, nothing has worked for them. Negotiations fail, because Inklings don’t know enough about Octarian society to understand why they need so much support. They don’t know enough about the history of Inklings and Octolings to realize that Inkadia is largely the reason they’re suffering. The average Inkling doesn’t know enough to realize there’s a problem, and the average Octarian doesn’t have a loud enough voice.

All this compounded onto the fact that now, the only Octolings Inkadia sees are the ones who decided that Octarians were oppressing themselves, to the point where they abandoned everything they knew to live in the nation that started this in the first place.

Though, it’s hard to blame them when life in Octaria is practically nonexistent. Losing so many people, living in such horrible conditions, led by an egomaniac whose awareness of his people is performative at best... but most Octolings can’t let that take away from who they are as a people. They don’t let it tear their communities apart, or sever the bonds they have with people. Their lived experiences show them that it’s worth fighting for. Well... except in one scenario we’ll get into later.

The final important thing that comes to light over this period... This whole time Octavio has barely come up, because he doesn’t even know the Squid Sisters are there. The squadron are a real squadron in the Octarian army, but this whole mysterious operation involving the Squid Sisters is entirely outside Octavio’s control. In fact, it becomes apparent that the Octarians at least in this squadron or associated with this squadron, hate Octavio and everything he’s been doing to their society as a whole.

They’ve always seen the Zapfish heists as a horrible, horrible ego trip. An extremely hollow, expensive move that only plants targets on the backs of Octarians. But even in feeling that way, Aris and Oregil both admit that there isn’t much else offering them hope. If not for Octavio stealing the Zapfish for those couple days of “sun”light, what would they be doing? Though Cy has a much more strong opinion there, asserting that doing nothing would have put those resources into survival rather than gambling it all on a fool’s errand.

Needless to say, the Squid Sisters get a bit wrapped up in this stuff. Talking to these Octolings, learning about their life, living it, offering to help (gameplay sections), and all around having a lot of beliefs challenged. It’s a lot of stuff that they are only able to wrap their mind around from actually knowing what it’s like to live through it, without the option to just leave when it gets too rough.

While at the beginning they were just looking for an opening to escape, by the halfway point they aren’t even really being watched anymore, let alone trying to break out. Tetra may call them prisoners, but by that point they’ve had so many opportunities to just walk away. The only thing keeping them there is the fact that if they leave, what will happen? And can they confidently say that it’s the Octarians’ fault for it happening?

By the end, their primary objective is to find something they can do to actually give them a shot. And for that... they’ll need more than just the two of them. The idea of bringing in the Squidbeak Splatoon is immediately dismissed as insane by Cy - especially the idea of bringing in THE Agent 3. But after a little while, with Oregil indifferent as always and Aris on board, she comes around, though warning that Tetra will not like it, and they could be accidentally luring Agent 3 into a death trap. But it’s a risk they decide to let the Captain decide for themself.

Act II

Acts II and III are far less elaborate, because this is after all the characters have been established, and the world has been largely explored.

Act II kicks off with there being a lot of reactions. (As a note, the Octolings with the Squid Sisters at the present time are Oregil, Aris, and Cy. In their own ways, they’re uncomfortable in the presence of Captain 3. Cy and Oregil also seem to have an attitude with how they look at Marina.) A lot of disbelief, but also, to some degree, understanding. Naturally, Captain 3 is skeptical, taking a moment to contemplate what they’re being asked to do.

But around this time, Marina cuts in, asserting that regardless of the cause, Octarian society is inherently a problem. That’s why she left. She accuses the squadron of perpetuating DJ Octavio’s oppressive rule, and that they could have their cake and eat it too just by moving to Inkopolis.

The group go back and forth, with escalating emotions and accusations, until Pearl declares that, whatever they’re plotting, Off the Hook and the Squidbeak Splatoon will put a stop to it. Silence falls over the group, until Marie retaliates saying that she doesn’t think she can in good conscience fight against people who are only trying to exist.

The other agents start taking the Octarians’ side, even Agent 8 who, despite hesitating given their trust in Off the Hook, still resonates too strongly with the plight of the Octarians to turn their back on them fully. Pearl is taken aback, but after a glance at a very betrayed Marina, declares the Squidbeak Splatoon their enemy too, Marina locking eyes with Agent 8 before Off the Hook take their leave.

Cy remarks that it’s a shame, but she understands exactly why Marina is acting this way. Callie asks why, but Cy just assures her that Marina isn’t stupid, so if everything goes right, she’ll come around. Aris tells the player where the kettle’s entrance is, and at their leisure, they can join the Octarians there.

Upon entering the kettle as the player Cy assumes you know how things work, and there are a few filler travel stages to break the story up a little, before eventually the group return to see Tetra emerge for the first time, locking eyes with Captain 3, removing her goggles for the first time, and immediately going on the attack. Captain 3 drops their weapon and holds up their hands, but Tetra still rushes them down, holding both Dark Tetra Dualies up to their face.

After a long moment of them staring each other down, Tetra narrows her eyes, throws her arms down in a burst of anger, and leaves without saying anything else. After a few sighs of relief across the group, the tone lightens up, and Cy guesses that Tetra won’t be bothering them - which is a relief.

The bulk of Act II itself is actually fairly underdeveloped story-wise and is a lot more gameplay focused. It reinforces a lot of the character stuff from Act I, but a big ongoing theme is repeatedly clashing with Off the Hook in various places, and getting more glimpses of the strange fifth Octoling and getting more hints as to what it really is that the squadron is planning, and why they’ve kept it hidden.

While their convictions are still the same, there is a growing level of uncertainty among the group as they feel less okay with being kept in the dark. Eventually, the Squid Sisters, Cap 3, and Agent 8 catch a glimpse of the mystery Octoling leaving, and watch them enter a building off the edge of the camp alongside the other Octolings. The Squid Sisters take the opportunity to snoop around the building, which appears to be a laboratory of some sort.

As the group search deeper within for answers, strange, distorted music can be heard - with oddly familiar vocals. It turns into a full stealth mission, until eventually towards the end you’re spotted and confronted by all four of the squadron members. Tetra warns that they were not supposed to come here, Cy is quiet for once, Aris is quiet as usual, and Oregil... actually looks motivated to stop you.

Of course this is a video game and you win that horrible 4v4, breaking through into the room ahead to find that fifth Octoling in a room full of synthesizers, speakers and computers. She calls for Cy, before turning around and realizing who it actually is.

Marie asks the obvious question, of what the hell this is, and the fifth Octoling who introduces herself as Sock, answers that this is a studio, actually. Well, a lab and a studio. Maybe it should be called a studyo. Weirdly lighthearted for what the group was expecting.

Cy, having respawned and entered behind them, is audibly defeated as she guesses an explanation can’t be avoided.

The studio was used over this entire period to study the effects of a song whose influence is as potent as it is destructive... the Calamari Inkantation. It’s the song that spawned not one, but two mass exoduses. It has an undeniable impact on the cephaling psyche. And, as they know, it’s one of the most important songs to not only the Squid Sisters, but Inkadia as a whole.

The fact that the Inkantation can grab the mind so easily when it isn’t being actively fought, and cause such extremely psychological changes... it was, and still is, one of the biggest problems Octaria has had to deal with. And up until recently, there was little you could do about the Inkantation besides actively study its influence.

What they found, was that it was able to simply cloud out your own lived experience. It would walk you down mental shortcuts, take advantage of the simplicity of certain ideas, and corrupt experiences that contradicted it. Causing Octolings to simply leave their struggling communities, their memories twisted with the idea that they’ve somehow invented their own struggle, corrupted only to enable the Octoling to gravitate towards assimilation without dissonance.

The only Octolings welcome in Inkadia are those who have listened to and internalized the Inkantation... those who, consciously or not, allow it to twist their memories and reshape who they are as people.

It’s a lot. Some Octolings are more resistant than others, and some, like Sock here, have managed to reverse engineer it and escape that way. Sock, an Octoling raised in Inkopolis, raised with the Inkantation, and only later exposed to its flaws - without memories of Octaria to have been twisted by it, she was only able to create new ones, to learn from those who live Octaria every day, rather than being stuck behind a layer of cognitive dissonance.

Of course, other Octolings simply could not leave. The new experiences formed after the Inkantation constantly falsify the old, corrupted memories, and reinforce the reality. But many Octolings, upon being swayed by the Inkantation, simply left and assimilated into Inkling societies.

The idea that the Inkantation is not only not good, but actively a corrupting force, was not something Cy nor any of the squadron were confident the Squid Sisters or anyone else exposed to the Inkantation would be able to process. And without that, how else would they understand the importance of their mission - to reverse the effects of the Inkantation using the strange, distorted song the group have been hearing.

Taking a lot of voice samples from the Squid Sisters was the only way they would be able to relpicate the sound that originally entranced those under the Inkantation’s effects. That’s why they needed to go for broke and resort to squidnapping. The Inkantation being a strong corrupting force meant that it was unpredictable how they would react to learning the truth behind the song, while still at least partially under the effects of it.

And that’s also why Cy said of Marina that she understands why she’s so hostile - Marina is one of the most deeply Inkantationed Octolings.

A lot of the breakdowns of how the Inkantation affects Octolings also resonates extremely strongly with Agent 8 - who, despite how prominent and overpowering the Inkantation was, was still able to hold onto friendly feelings around Octarians, and frustrations around their place in Inkling society. So many weird, dissonant feelings, are starting to make sense. But also, a lot of really awful feelings are starting to surface as well - traumatic feelings, now that they’re starting to think back on their life, and counterbalancing that to the horrors they witnessed in the Deepsea Metro. Horrifying, but... real. So, so, horribly real.

This is their last shot. If they can reverse the Inkantation across Inkopolis... who knows what it would achieve. But the plan, at the very least, is unity and community. Cy admits that in all likelihood, most Octolings will stay in Inkopolis even after the Inkantation is cleared. That’s their home now - they have new friends, new commitments, a new life... and there’s not much of a home to return to in Octaria.

But, maybe, some Octolings come to visit. Maybe some Octolings come back. Maybe those that don’t, can at least use their new life in Inkopolis to raise the voices of those suffering back home, and create a real partnership - no egotistical DJ required. And not just turning Octolings into Inklings with funny hair.

Act III

Well, once this whole reveal happens, there is a lot of internal conflict, but on the face of it, there’s really nothing to argue. There’s the disgust and to a degree personal insult felt at the idea that this song that was so important to them, that became a cornerstone of Inkadia, was harmful. That they the Squid Sisters enacted that harm onto tens of thousands of Octolings.

But it’s all there. Their minds want to deny it, but there’s nothing to stand on.

At the very least, they have a rare opportunity to set things almost entirely right. And so, they take it.

The plan is simple: Do what the Inkantation did. Blast the song out to as many Octolings as possible, and then... maybe overthrow Octavio for fun just as a bonus lol

The Squid Sisters are already popstars - they can just take the song into the Inkopolis News Station, perform it live, and get it playing all over, such is how Inkopolis is with its new music. Or well, that’s how it COULD work...  if there wasn’t a sudden “NEVER GONNA HAPPEN” and muffled “Pearl--!!” coming from Agent 8′s earpiece, that they forgot to take out.

So... the easy walk-in walk-out strategy just turned into a big climactic final battle for the station. The specifics of which........ are still being ironed out, sORRY!

But generally, Pearl and Marina get backup in on the situation, and it’s a lot of small missions in one building, split across multiple teams, some stealth, some just battle, some objectives, and the final battle being a survival section over the Squid Sisters performing the song (playing as the squid sisters is cool but its not quite a Splatoon Final Boss if the Squid Sisters aren’t singing some variant of the Calamari Inkantation over it except that one time) including Pearl and Marina themselves getting in on the battle.

I’m not musical enough to think of how this would work, but it would be kinda crazy for it to sort of be objective-based by whether the Squid Sisters’ reverse-Inkantation or perhaps even Off the Hook singing the normal Inkantation is playing for more time - like a dueling song of some sort

After it’s over and you win, there’s this sort of both relief and confusion since it feels like not much happened - but it affects Marina. Like, god, does it affect Marina after everything that happened to her after the Inkantation. A lot of what she knew, the people she was close to, her life in general, all just flooding back. Suddenly realizing that these were not shadowy monsters that were out to get her, they weren’t evil clones trying to destroy the world. They were people she knew, old friends, family even, that were just trying to get by as best they could without leaving their friends and family in the dust. And then she let herself be swayed by a song, and then suddenly... how could she have just left them like that? What did she do to them? What did she do to herself?

But cutting through it all is Pearl’s voice, asking if she’s okay. Despite what she was worried about... it’s still Pearl. It didn’t make her hate Pearl or not recognize Pearl or change anything about how she felt about Pearl. It just, cleared the fog around the other people she cared about, that she had been convinced she didn’t.

So.... yeah!! Once all is said and done, Marina assures Pearl that she’s still her, that all these fears she had, didn’t happen. Plus, some minor panic over how close she got to keeping these thoughts down forever. But she didn’t, and now that it’s all over, she can let it out to Pearl and the rest of them.

Epologue

Other Octolings throughout Inkopolis start feeling similar things, though minus the Deepsea Metro trauma, and as anticipated, some of them do return. Some come back temporarily, some just have a lot to think about. Many who come back in some form or another will also sadly realize how close Octaria is to just crumbling to the ground. But over the following days, weeks, months, and years, both Octolings and Inklings work together to both raise awareness and to help reconstruction efforts.

It’s the start of a much, much, much larger social shift - that kind of also passively involves removing Octavio from power, but that’s easy enough at this point. And of course, Pearl and Marina come up with some shenanigans to get the squadron and the Squid Sisters... off the hook.

And that’s Culture Shock, the entire story exists for that one throwaway pun at the end thank you for listening you’ve been a great audience and even if this FINDS its target audience NOBODY will be able to read this before the direct that will inevitably have Side Order content which means NOBODY except ME will have the knowledge of this before their expectations are shfited by the existence of Side Order

Okay but seriously if you somehow finished all of this like, DM me on Discord @aviivix or something because we will become best friends

Also... if you can believe it... this is like maybe HALF of like all the story stuff I’ve got in Culture Shock - each member of the Octo Squad has an arc (especially Tetra she has the biggest arc but I barely mention Tetra here) and there’s big ass history with the dead Octos and a lot of specifics I didn’t touch... if you ask me about any of it I will be your best friend no questions asked.

TYSM!!!!!!!!!

[pinkelotjeart]

you are making me consider learning more about persona

* starts vibrating violently *

Okay, cool, amazing, I’ll try to be normal, and keep this ‘short’ (<- persona has been my special intrests since I was 15 allow me to indulge myself.)

General first pitch: it’s an amazing light hearted series with so many lovable characters that you’ll for sure end up loving atleast one of them. Often the games will tackle heavy themes but is always uplifting and inherently about the indomitable human spirit. The sound tracks go so hard, and the style is so so good. Like I could gush about the menu’s for hours-THE MENU’s!!

And I need you to understand, these games have so much content, and so many AMAZING things, you get into it, YOU GET INTO IT.

Only disclaimer: this is an anime franchise, there will be anime fuckery (it’s manageable but I feel like it needs to be said.) and the newer games are pretty expensive- But ya know 🏴‍☠️🗣️

Short guide to what games to play:

This franchise has existed since 1996, you DO NOT need to play them in order to get into it. When we talk about persona people usually mean the ‘modern trilogy’ so that’s what we’ll focus on. (Which pains me a little because p2 is so dear to me, but it’s kinda inaccessible. I’ll yell about them tho if you want)

The modern trilogy are: persona 3 reload, persona 4 golden, persona 5 royal (I’d recommend starting with p5 or p3) you can start with any of the main line ones, as they are stand alone stories (don’t worry about the MASSIVE amounts of spin offs, it’s fine.)

But what are the games even like?:

Persona has a unique game loop of being half social life simulator and half rpg. Half of the time you’ll be managing your time and going through the highs and lows of Japanese highschool, and the other half fighting demons. These aspects of the game are super interconnected and the way you strengthen your persona’s is by strengthening your friendships. (Power of friendship is a game mechanic baby and it actually makes sense🗣️) you’ll basically be playing through a whole year of someone’s life, which is super immersive.

The general themes are rooted in Jungian psychology (which is where the persona stuff comes in) identity, the human subconscious and What it’s like growing up as a teenager and trying to face yourself. Every game has themes next to that, fitting with its story.

Persona 5 royal is about rebellion and finding your place in the world when you don’t fit into societal norms. (It’s autism the game.) it also has one of the best toxic yaoi rival dynamics you’ll ever experience (and it’s my favourite:3)

The games intro for fibes

Persona 4 golden is a small town murder mystery about the parts of ourself we hide and trying to find your true self (it’s kinda like, scooby doo if it was an anime.)

The games intro for fibes

Persona 3 reload is about the inevitably of death and allowing yourself to enjoy the time with those around you while you’re still alive. (This is depression the game, you will leave this with a atleast week long depressive episode /pos.)

The games intro for fibes

My apologies for making this SO LONG, but it’s multiple games and I wanne do the explonation justice, I feel like I’ve not even scratched the surface. Do ask if you have qeustions and enjoy <33

[rosedpetal]

Over Again

Summary: You tried to run from him, but he wasn't about to allow that.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word count: 1k

Author's note: this is a repost.

Warnings: smut, imbalance relationship dynamics, all that fun stuff.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Shit.

You mumbled under your breath, feeling your eyes water and a strangled sob leave your throat. Your back hit the cold bathroom wall, and you tried your hardest to inhale and exhale, the mechanical act of breathing seeming too hard to do in the moment.

The two red lines in the pregnancy test made you know your life was never going to be the same again.

You lived with your parents. You were drowning in college debts (which was how you ended up in this whole mess). You were pretty sure you couldn't afford to buy diapers and formula for at least the next fifteen years.

Your cries got louder, and you squeezed the plastic test in your palm, as if it could make everything go away.

It wouldn't.

With your arms crossed over your chest and fidgeting with your leg anxiously, sunglasses to attempt to cover your face and a flowery sundress, you stood in the line to enter the shady clinic that Betty gave you the address to.

"The father left?" a sudden low male voice spoke behind you, and you shrieked.

You turned to look at him, fear rushing through your spine.

Lloyd looked too good for his own good in one of his stupid polo shirts, the creepy grin under the ugly mustache that you grew to love when it rubbed your most intimate parts adorning his sculpted face.

The few women in front of you were too aggravated by their own little problems to acknowledge the commotion you made.

"Lloyd, I-I can explain." You gulped. "I'm just here waiting for a friend, I-"

"Shut the fuck up, sunshine. You're a terrible liar." He mocked you, eyeing like a stalker do to its prey. "You're not showing yet. Little Hansen's already giving you hell?"

You cringed when he said that, a wave of nausea threatening to spill the contents of your breakfast.

"How did you...?"

Before you could say anything more, Lloyd roughly yanked you by your arm, shoving you to the backseat of his expensive car. The driver rolled the partition up, giving you two privacy.

"You know, sunshine, you could've come to me. But you chose to go behind my back, and that I can't forgive."

"Lloyd-"

"I told you to shut the fuck up." His blue eyes darkened, the gaze of lust and anger weighing on you like a thousand pounds. "Now, you're going to be a big girl and explain with words why on the damn earth you were going to have an abortion. Now."

Your tears fell freely on your face and you felt his fingers on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm so so sorry." You broke, just the way he loved. "I didn't wanna be a burden."

Lloyd gently caressed your face with the back of his hand, wiping your tears away his thumb.

"I was willing to do everything for you, sunshine. Pay your student debt, date you. Maybe put a ring on your finger. You just disappeared on me. You broke my heart." He sighed, resting his forehead on yours.

Things weren't supposed to go this way. Lloyd was just your sugar daddy. He treated you like a dumb little thing.

Of course, he did spoil the hell out of you. He was great in bed too. In fact, that's why you stayed so long and came back to him all the damn time.

But two years into this dangerous dance you and him waltzed to were becoming too much. Lloyd would never give you anything more than a few bank checks, Tiffany threats and the best sex a woman could dream of. Other than that, he'd never respect you.

Never let you be your own person, never let you go. So you had to run away.

"Tell me, sunshine..." Caging you with an arm thrown over your shoulder and sliding down his hand under the hem of your dress, reaching to where you needed him more, he asked: "Have I not been giving you enough?"

"You'll never love anyone, Lloyd. Not even your own child." You whispered, heart pacing faster under his sweet gaze. You hated the way he gave you butterflies. You shouldn't want his attention.

But you needed it so bad.

"Baby, you're out of your damn mind if you think I don't absolutely adore you, mon chérie." His mustache tickled the side of your face. "I told you I'd take care of you. Stop being so damn stupid and allow me to do so."

You barely noticed when he pushed your panties to the side, his index finger coating your wetness. You whimpered when he entered you in an embarrassing easy way.

"Lloyd..."

"Tell me you don't need this, and I'll walk away."

You knew him too well to know he was lying. He'd never do that. He was too dark, too deranged, too selfish to do anything that wasn't going to benefit him in the long run.

"Oh!" He curled his finger inside you. The wet sounds coming from your pussy were driving him insane.

"You're always so responsive for me, baby." He purred on your ear. "Makes me so fucking hard."

"Yes! Yes! Just like that, fuck!" You cussed through your teeth, feeling the butterflies pressing into your belly. You screamed and your pussy gushed, soaking Lloyd's hand, giving to him so sweetly that he almost came in his pants. He rode your high to the point of overstimulation, and you desperately pried his grip away from you, breathless.

"You can't leave me, sunshine. I won't let you." He kissed your cheek, licking the salty tears. "I'm going to put a diamond ring on your finger, and you're gonna behave like an obedient little wife. If you do, I can even let you entertain the idea of working."

"Lloyd..." You mumbled, numbed out from pleasure.

"Don't sleep on me yet, baby. You have to take care of me now." He demanded, putting your hand inside his pants.

Then he kissed you. Over and over again.

[boytoyhalo]

Your Selkie au is super compelling! Plus you are a very good writer. A question, will you ever go into more detail about Pac's previous captive situation? I'm very interested in how you will adapt Fuga's lore into your au. ( Specially bc of Cell and Cellbit stuff)

I'M SO SO SO LATE BUT IM USING FITPAC WEEK DAY 3 (WHICH IM ALSO LATE FOR) AS AN EXCUSE TO FINALLY, FINALLYYYYY GET THIS POSTED THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON AND EVERYONE ELSE WHO'S AN ENJOYER OF THIS AU I PROMISE IT ISN'T ABANDONED IVE JUST BEEN IN AN END OF YEAR SLUMP

selkie au snippet #4 (i think) || T || slash (ambiguous) || @fitpacweek day 3 (belated its actually day 4) AU day!!!

read the rest of my posts about this au here

"Can I ask you somethin' personal?"

Pac paused, hand suspended halfway towards the checkerboard that was currently serving as him and Fit's way of passing the long hours up in the lamp room of the lighthouse. He kept his eyes on the round piece he was holding as he deliberated on how to answer, sure that if he met Fit's gaze his face would give away his nervousness; "personal" could mean a wide range of topics, most of which would spell disaster for Pac and his poorly constructed web of secrets. He slowly placed the piece in it's spot on the board, fighting to keep his voice even as he responded.

"Mmm, you can ask, yeah. I might not answer, but you can ask." Fit hummed bemusedly, absently flipping his own game piece between his fingers and he contemplated his next move.

"What happened to your leg?" Pac's breath caught in his throat, and Fit rushed to continue, "It's ok if you don't wanna talk about it, I get it. I just- I mean, you've probably figured out how I lost my arm, right?" Pac looked up at the familiar, mechanical clacking of the veteran's stiff wooden fingers flexing in and out of their open position, eyes involuntarily darting to the gnarled pink scarring that crawled from under his collar and up to the side of his head. He quickly returned his gaze to the board, face reddening a little in shame. Thankfully though, Fit seemed far from offended. "Heh, it's okay, I know. It's pretty obvious. And besides, you're a smart man. I'd be surprised if you hadn't assumed correctly. Me though - I'm just brawn, I don't have a whole lotta brainpower up in this thing." He knocked his fake knuckles lightly against his temple, a light smile on his face. "So if you are okay with me knowing, you're gonna need to tell me."

A small, nervous laugh bubbled it's way out of Pac's chest, his face properly flushed now in a mix of embarassment and flattery. "Don't - don't say that about yourself Fit, you're smart! Smarter than me, probably-" He cleared his throat, redirecting his focus to the topic at hand (ha.) "I can tell you, I don't mind. It's just a, it's a tough topic, you know? I need to get my head in the right place." Fit nodded easily like he understood, which Pac supposed he did at least somewhat.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." The selkie chuckled a bit, tracing the edges of the paneled glass walls that surrounded them as he considered the best way to talk around the subject; he knew, or at least had decided, that he owed it to Fit to give him some semblance of the truth. After all, they had been growing steadily closed for months now and yet Fit knew so little about his life. Which was out of necessity, or course, but his friend had been so kind and so patient with him, never demanding more information than he was given. Pac needed - no, he WANTED to let him in as much as he reasonably could. He deserved it.

"I..." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself to sort through the painful, tangled memories and hoping he would be able to hold himself together. He starts at the beginning, where he won't have to omit too much of the truth, though if anything that makes it harder to talk about. "Mike and I were on a merchant ship off the coast of São Paulo that was attacked by axis submarines a few years back." Fit winced sympathetically, patiently waiting for him to continue as he picked his next words. "We avoided the worst of the blast, but... Mike was in really bad condition, and I had to hang onto him with one arm and a piece of the wreck with the other while I waited for help to come. By the time someone found us, I was too tired and too um- too relieved to realize that we were being taken as prisoners and not as refugees."

It was all technically true so far, just with some important details omitted: like how they were only on the ship in the first place because their pelts were being imported as merchandise by a fisherman who believed himself to be incredibly lucky, and how they weren't taken as prisoners of war as Fit was no doubt assuming. Pac fails to suppress a shudder as he remembers the smug, taunting grin of the man that stood above him on the deck of his supposed refuge, two familiar seal pelts clutched in his meaty fists.

"I'm so sorry you went through that, Pac. You don't have to keep-" Pac cuts him off, already committed to opening up.

"No, I want to tell you. We," He clears his throat again, pushing down the memories of too-small tanks full of too-salty water, of needles and IV drips and white lab coats and pencils scratching on clipboards as he writhed in pain. "We woke up in some sort of facility, I'm not sure where exactly? I think the men who had us were European but that's all I remember, it's all blurry you know? And that's where we met Cellbit and Felps actually-" The image of frenzied black eyes claws its way to the front of his mind against his will, but he can't help a small smile at Fit's attentiveness as his eyebrows raise in intrigue, the checkerboard between them completely forgotten.

"Anyway, we were there for- months, I think. And long story short Cellbit ended up, um. He tried to- to eat my leg off?" It comes out sounding uncertain, Pac having realized there was no way to say it that wouldn't raise more questions. Sure enough, Fit's mouth drops open.

"Wait he- He tried to eat you?"

"Not- it wasn't- aaaaugh, he wasn't himself ok? They were- they were cruel to us, and they injected him with these drugs that made him all crazy and violent and they kinda just. Let him do it? It wasn't his fault, is what I'm saying." Fit looks disturbed, although significantly less so than Pac would expect from most people. He supposes bearing witness to the horrors of war would give you a higher tolerance to this sort of thing.

The thing is, it really wasn't Cellbit's fault. He had been there the longest of any of them, starved and beaten and forced through their cruel experiments since he had been a teenager. He was angry and desperate and hungry, and it was pure bad luck that Pac had happened to be the closest to him when the "researchers" had decided to test the effects of whatever combination of steroids they had injected him with. The ghost of his leg twinges in pain as it remembers the feeling of sharp teeth tearing through it's flesh.

"Wait so did Cellbit..." Fit hesitates, like he can't quite put together what he means to ask. "So he, bit your leg off? but how does that even-" He's interrupted by Pac giggling, and after a moment he joins in quietly with a confused laugh of his own.

"No, no he- he just did enough damage that the sci- that the jailers had to amputate it. And it wasn't that bad honestly, I mean, they weren't kind enough to knock me out before they started sawing but at least I didn't die!" His amusement at Fit's horrified reaction to his nonchalance almost drowns out the echoes of grief that his heart sounds for one of his fellow prisoners who hadn't been so lucky. Pac puts on a wide grin, forcing himself to perk up from his slumped posture. "So anyway, that's the story! Pretty cool don't you think?" Fit sputters a shocked laugh.

"Pretty- Yeah, sure, Pac. That's- *cough*- that's cool, yeah." It's a joke, obviously, but warmth washes over him anyway at the way that Fit lets him control the weight of the conversation like always. He wouldn't be able to handle trying to talk about his past seriously, and he's grateful to whatever higher power may or may not exist for bringing him Fit, who not only cares but understands despite being a human, and who always without fail meets him wherever he needs to be at. Pac doesn't know what he did to deserve a friend like him. "So, okay," Fit's voice snaps him out of the appreciative haze he had fallen into. "How did you guys get out? Were you released, or rescued, or..." He trails off, eyes imploring him to go on. Pac feels his face light up at the opportunity to discuss his favorite part of the tale - the only part, he likes, really.

"Oh, you're not gonna believe it. It was Richas! He actually saved us!"

"What?" Fit exclaims in elated disbelief.

"Yeah! So ok - they were keeping him prisoner too, but he was just a baby, like a, a toddler right? And the guards that were assigned to him treated him like their own kid-" Minus the horrible inhumane experimentation, of course. "- and he somehow, he figured out how to use their sympathy to get them to tell him where they kept all their keys," - and all the pelts - "and then managed to convince them to let him play with us alone. So he came to me and Mike and told us, so we told him to steal us some guard uniforms and figure out where the breaker box was, and after some planning and waiting for the right time we were able to escape by having him shut off the power and filing out with the rest of the guards! Mike wanted it to just be the three of us but I told him we weren't leaving the others behind." For all the suffering they had been put through it had honestly been comically easy - the facility they were at was small and not well guarded, probably funded independently considering that if any powerful government had proof of the selkies' existence everyone including the scientists would have been in a much bigger mess - the world was already at war, Pac doubted anyone was eager to add another variable to the conflict.

Fit crosses his arms and sits back, nodding in amazement. "Huh, so little Richarlyson is a hero! That's crazy"

"What, you don't believe me?" Pac shouts in mock offense.

"No no no I believe you! That kid is a fighter, I know it. So you guys all just stuck together after that? What about Bagi and Forever?"

"Ah, so- Bagi and Cellbit, they're brothers, or uhm- they're brother and sister, yes? And Bagi had been searching for Cellbit since he was taken, and somehow she ended up at the place we were being kept just a few days after we escaped, and she was able to track us from there. She's crazy smart, Cellbit and her both are. And Forever," Well, truthfully, Forever had just swam up to their pod and started playing with Richas one day while they were searching for a new home, and then the two had become inseparable so he just... stuck around. But Pac wasn't sure how to spin that into something that sounded reasonable for a human family, so he just went with "Forever just showed up one day and wouldn't leave." Fit laughed again at that, and this time Pac laughed with him.

It felt unbelievably good to tell Fit about his story like this, even with parts of it changed. Still, he wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth of what he was - he almost did, right then and there, swayed by the sound if his laughter and the mirth in his eyes. But, he reminded himself, that had to be a family decision; it wasn't just his secrets at stake. It was all of them, and as much as he loved trusted Fit and would be happy to gamble his own safety on that trust, he wasn't willing to risk his whole family.

...But, it would be so much easier if he could just say the whole truth. He wonders if Fit would react with the same attentiveness and amazement he gave to Pac's storytelling.

The rest of the day passed with little more of note, mostly filled with idle chit chat and card games. As Fit tries to teach him how to play Kings on the Corners for the third time, Pac finds himself thinking about how much Fit was changing his life without even realizing. A few months ago, Pac had never wanted or even tolerated human company that wasn't absolutely necessary. But now, he couldn't imagine not having the veteran around to occupy his time. In fact, when Fit had taken his first two-week relief back on shore after two months of service, Pac had felt inescapably lonely even when surrounded by his pod. Not even Richas, who had also been upset over the Ramon's absence, had been able to completely cheer him up. And while Pac's always been somewhat fascinated by humans, and had enjoyed watching the previous lighthouse keepers as they went about their work, he had never found himself as interested by any of it as he does when it comes to Fit.

"What is it?" Fit's voice snaps him out of it yet again, cards abandoned as he looks at him curiously. "You're staring."

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing! Just thinking about Richas and Ramon - what do you think they're up to?"

"They should still be hanging out with Cellbit, right? They're probably doing puzzles or something." Fit looks at the clock over on the left side off the room. "It's almost six, Bad should be here soon to take over for the night. Do you want to go join them and I can catch up?"

"Um-" Pac flusters, face heating up slightly. He's not sure why the emotional exhaustion of talking about losing his leg is what's bringing all these revelations to his mind, but he can't seem to pull his thoughts away from how much he appreciates the man in front of him. Which.... "Yeah, I think I'll go find them now! I'll see you soon?" Fit nods.

"Sounds good, Pac. I'll see you in a little bit." With a nod back at him, Pac shuffles out the door and makes his way down the tower. Instead of going to find Cellbit and the children, however, he beelines straight to the rocks where his pelt is stashed and hastily wraps himself in it's familiar comfort, sliding into the water before his limbs have even finished morphing into flippers. Surely a nice, solo swim is what he needs to clear his head.

...If only he could take Fit with him.

[aimixx]

Prologue: Crossroads

a @favonius-library secret santa gift for @stellarron

college au biker blade x barista reader

: ̗̀➛ Your job is to spread happiness with beautifully brewed coffee cups. Thanks to that, you started a new experience.

wc: 1034

"Have a great day!"

You said with a smile as the customer took

the coffee and a content mood, turning your attention back to the coffee machine to make more orders.

Life was peaceful. Having a nice part time

job at the cafe near your college and working for a nice manager who understands the workload on a college student during finals.

You loved making coffee, it was a hobby that always put you in a good mood. The aroma of the coffee beans as they get crushed then brewed to a soft, tasty hot drink made according to the customer's preferences.

The smile on people's face when they take a sip of the coffee cup that you brewed so

efficiently would always leave you in a good mood.

It feels like you are spreading positive energy to your customers every morning.

– – –

The second time was in your mechanics

lecture.

You arrived late to the hall, sighing when you noticed your usual seat was taken. Luckily, you spotted an empty one and went to set your stuff down and sit. You quickly pulled out your notebook and pen, preparing everything you need to write your notes.

"Excuse me, you dropped your eraser." A voice said from next to you, you turned your head to see the same guy from yesterday.

"Ah, thank you!" You said, taking the eraser from him.

"You're the guy from the cafe yesterday."

said and he looked at you then his eyes lit up when he recognized you.

"Ah, the barista. The coffee was really great actually." He said and you smiled at him.

“Thank you! I always make my coffee to perfection to put all my customers in a good mood!" I said cheerfully before pulling out my hand to him.

"I'm (name).”

"Yingxing." He said, taking your hand and after a quick handshake you two pulled your hands away.

Soon the two of you fell into a short

conversation. Apparently, his little sister went to the café and really liked the coffee

and recommended it to him. You also find

out that he's in several of your classes and he is into bikes and has one that he drives all the time.

Before your conversation would continue any further, the professor entered the hall and you had to stop your talk to focus on the lecture.

– – –

The third time was during a project. Your professor tasked everyone to pick a partner to write a report about a topic he picked. You and Yingxing were seated next to each other and you asked if he wanted to partner up with you and he agreed.

And that’s how you two made a daily routine to meet up in the library for an hour before you had to leave for your job.

It was a comfortable routine, Yingxing is a very great and reliable partner who doesn’t slack off or throw everything on you which is quite rare since most group projects have people who are too lazy to do anything.

He also has some great tips on the topic and you two managed to successfully finish writing several points for the report.

“We did great so far, and it has been a week.” You said, packing up your stuff.

“You’re right. At our pace, maybe we would be able to finish a day or two before the deadline.” He replied as he placed his laptop in his backpack.

“I’ll have to go now, see you tomorrow!” You said as you waved at him before walking out of the library and rushing to catch the bus.

By the time you reach your station, the bus has just left and you have to wait ten minutes for the next one to arrive.

You have ten minutes before your shift starts.

You sighed and pulled out your phone to message your boss that you will be late but stopped when someone called out your name.

“(Name), why are you still here? Did you miss the bus?”

You looked up from your phone and saw Yingxing. He was on his bike, his helmet in his hand as he looked at you.

“Yeah, and my shift starts in ten minutes so I was going to tell my boss that I’ll be late.” You replied and Yingxing held out his helmet for you.

“Put this one. I’ll take you there.”

“No, I don't want to trouble you.”

“It’s okay, it was technically my fault for holding you back anyway.” He insisted and you took the helmet from him and wore it, positioning yourself behind him.

“Hold on tight.” He said before taking off, driving swiftly in the streets to take you to your job.

It was your first time to ride a bike, despite the short distance of the trip but it was amazing. Yingxing is a skilled driver who managed to take shortcuts in order to reach the café on time for your shift.

“Thank you so much.” You said after you two arrived, getting off the bike and handing the helmet to him.

“You’re welcome.” He said with a smile before putting on the helmet.

“Drive safely!” You waved as he drove off to the streets. Turning around, you walked to the café and greeted your boss.

“Hey Kafka! I’m sorry for being late.” You said as the woman shook her head with a smile.

“It’s fine, you were just on time. Anyway, who's the guy?” Kafka said, watching as you put on your apron.

“He’s a colleague from college. We got distracted in the project and he offered to take me to work when I missed the bus.” You replied and the woman smirked at you.

“I’ll be looking forward to the first date.” She teased as she patted your shoulder.

“Kafka! It’s not like that. We are just friends.”

“Whatever you say.” She said with a chuckle before walking to the backroom.

You ignored her words as you focused on your work.

But soon, Yingxing became a constant presence in your life. He became someone that you always thought about and wondered when you would see him again.

Those small meetings were the start of a new experiences, new beginnings and a new and exciting love story.

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