#and as we got older we wanted to do our own stuff + my sister and i were staunch atheists for a while in middle school

[farsailing]

mmmm thinking of attending meetings after the move if my work schedule allows. i’m def not interested in returning to Christianity theistically, but i do kind of miss the community of meetings. the society of friends for my new city does unprogrammed worship (the kind my family attended) and is inclusive so i may reach out to them about attending sometimes

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[blues824]

My request for the prompt list is what ever you want and who ever you want I'm happy with everything you write and what to see what you want.

I found this cute picture of sebek for you I don't know who drew it but it's beautiful.

If this man does not become our husband in the next 5 seconds @theunknowntravel3r

I requested: Dancing to Christmas Music, New Year’s Countdown, NYE Party

Sebek Zigvolt

Let’s be honest, if you are with him, he probably has told his parents about you. It was his first time being in a relationship with a human, so who better than to ask his parents? That being said, when Winter Break rolled around, they had sent you an invitation to stay at their house for the duration of your time off from school.

The half-fae had warned you to pack heavily and with cold weather in mind, and he even lent you one of his hoodies… totally because you needed it and not because you looked absolutely adorable in it. You also noticed that it seemed that he sprayed some of his cologne on it so that it smelled freshly of him, and your heart melted.

Going through the mirror, the weather was definitely much colder, and you were glad that you were already wearing some extra layers. It was freezing cold. You went to pick up your suitcase only to see that Sebek picked it up for you. His face was flushed red, as he caught you looking at him, but in his mind he blamed it on the cold.

“Sebek, I can get my own stuff.”

“Nonsense! It is a knight’s duty to help a citizen, especially if you are their significant other!” He shouted, not as loud as when he shouts at Ace or Deuce, but definitely louder than necessary. 

So you said bye to everyone as you both headed to the dentist clinic, where you would meet his parents. You were nervous, and he could sense it. To be honest, he was more nervous about you meeting his older siblings, as they were very protective over their younger brother. 

Walking in, you noticed that it was very clean and quiet, probably because they were just locking up the office for the holidays. Upon seeing her son, Mrs. Zigvolt ran and pulled you both into a hug, exclaiming about how it was so good to see you and her son had told her so much about you. Sebek was embarrassed, but it had been a while since you'd felt the warm hug of a mother, so you embraced it.

His father walked into the lobby soon, and waited until his wife was finished with greeting you both so that he could hug his son and introduce himself to you properly. You could definitely see that your boyfriend was a perfect mix of his parents, in both appearance and personality, and it was quite funny to you.

~~~~~~~~

The Zigvolt residence wasn’t anything too grand. It was actually quite comfortable, and you loved everything about it. You got to see Sebek’s room, and you were surprised at how plain it looked. You would have thought that he would have had crocodile-print blankets and pillow cases but no. 

He actually had a bookcase filled to the brim with books, and they were organized by title. A few of them were romance novels that you were grateful to see, as you recognized them from your own world. Shakespeare, the Brothers Grimm, and the Bronte Sisters. 

“Huma- I mean, Y/N, you will be sleeping in here, and I will sleep on the couch!” He announced, setting your suitcase on the bed.

“Why don’t we just share the bed? It’s a king-sized bed, we can both fit.”

“THAT IS IMPROPER, ESPECIALLY BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!” He shouted, face painted a bright, glowing red at the mere thought of doing something so intimate.

“Is it that? Or is it because we’re in your parents’ house? You do realize that we’ve slept in the same bed before back at Ramshackle, right?”

“I-I do realize that!” He said all too quickly, making you laugh.

“Alright, what’s got you so worked up, Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor?” You stepped right in front of him, throwing your arms around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair. His hands instinctively fell to your waist.

You always knew when something was bothering him… and it was something that he both hated and appreciated about you. 

“I have never brought a significant other home before, and I am nervous about how my siblings and my grandfather will take it… especially since you are human,” He admitted, and you could feel his shoulders sag a bit when he mentioned his grandfather.

“Your grandfather was forced to accept your father, wasn’t he? I will force him to accept me. I forced you to, so it shouldn’t be much more difficult than that, right?” You offered him a reassuring smile, and he knew that you could win anybody over. However, his grandfather still did not like his father. “And if he doesn’t, then he’ll love our children.” 

It was lucky that he was half-fae and did not get whiplash as easily as humans do, otherwise his neck would have absolutely snapped with the velocity at which he turned his head to look at you, wide eyes and flushed face apparent.

~~~~~~~~

Over the course of the next few days, you basically stayed in the house. You did stop by the market to meet some of the townsfolk, but it was freezing cold out there. Besides, you definitely preferred seeing baby pictures of your boyfriend over the snow any day of the week. Mrs. Zigvolt was very happy to show you the most embarrassing ones, much to her son’s dismay.

You also helped prepare the house for the upcoming New Year’s Eve party that the Zigvolt’s hosted annually. You were excited to see Silver and Lilia again, but you were sad that Tsunotarou was not going to be able to make it. It would be alright, because you needed to meet Baul Zigvolt as well as Sebek’s siblings.

On the day of the party, his sister was the first of them to arrive. She didn’t live too far away, but the snow made it difficult to get there. She squealed upon seeing you, though, and you made a guess that this generation of Zigvolt’s inherited their mother’s strength when she hugged you.

“YOU MUST BE SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER!!!!” She exclaimed in excitement.

“WHO’S SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER?!” You heard a man exclaim from the front door. Looks like the eldest son of the family is now present.

“I am! My name is Y/N L/N!” You were not surprised to be swept into yet another bone-crushing hug, but this time you were rescued by another woman who didn’t look like she was related.

“Honey, let them go! They can barely breathe, poor thing…” You shook her hand after being let down, and you noticed the ring on her and Sebek’s older brother’s fingers, making a note that she married into the family.

Lilia and Silver weren’t too far behind, and so the only person you all were waiting for was the grandfather of the family. Lilia tried to reassure you that you would be fine and that Baul would tolerate you, but it still wasn’t any less nerve-wracking. Sebek was in a similar state, not being able to sit still, and when he was sitting, his leg was bouncing.

What did manage to give you a bit of hope was that you were not the only human in the room. Sebek’s father, sister-in-law, and Silver were all there to stand beside you. Of course, the first person mentioned didn’t count, because Baul still didn’t like him. However, the other two were accepted with nearly open arms.

Then, the dreaded knock on the door sounded, making more and more terror sink into your and your boyfriend’s souls. You took his hand in yours, drawing absentminded circles on the back of it with your thumb.

“Where is the human who deems themself worthy to court my youngest grandson?” He said upon entering.

Whatever happened to ‘Hello’? ‘How are you?’ ‘My name is…’?

“I am right here, sir.” You stood up, walking up to him and extending your out to him. “My name is Y/N L/N.”

A moment of silence passed, and you could feel sweat trickling down the back of your neck, but he accepted your hand and shook it, telling you his name in return. The entire group behind you let out a sigh of relief, before the festivities truly began.

And by ‘festivities’, I mean sitting on the couch and talking. This is probably the most ‘unseasoned chicken’ family out there… just saying.

~~~~~~~~

It had been a few hours since Baul had arrived, and it seemed like he accepted you into the family. You were in it for the long haul, but you didn’t mind. Behind the scary facade, he was just a man who was concerned with the wellbeing of his family. You could appreciate that, and now you sat, sitting and listening to his and Lilia’s “glory days” from back in the military.

Sebek was listening with stars in his eyes, and you knew that he aspired to be like his grandfather. He was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on the floor, leaning your head on his leg as you listened along. However, you zoned out a bit, feeling your social battery become low.

Mr. Zigvolt put on a Christmas record on an old gramophone that they kept in the family room, and walked up to his wife.

“Would you like to dance, darling?” He extended his hand out to her, and your heart melted at the sight.

“Why, yes I would.” And so they started to rock back and forth. In their home, they had wedding photos hung up, and they looked as in love as they were back then.

Sebek’s brother and sister-in-law joined them. It wasn’t anything too complicated, literally just rocking back and forth. You smiled, lip-syncing to the words and watching the two couples dance with each other.

“H-Human, would you like to dance with me?” Sebek stood up and held a hand out to you, offering to help you up. Poor baby’s face was flushed red, embarrassed or flustered, or maybe a mix of both. Plus, he was using a soft voice.

“I would like nothing more, my Knight in Shining Armor,” You said with a smile on your face, allowing yourself to be pulled up off the ground and into his chest. Placing your hand on his shoulder and holding his hand with your free one, you both also began swaying side-to-side. 

The song was soft, creating a rather romantic atmosphere in the living room of the Zigvolt residence. Staring into Sebek’s eyes, you could see the pride he felt at his choice of a significant other being accepted by the man he looked up to the most.

“1 MINUTE UNTIL MIDNIGHT!!!” The eldest Zigvolt daughter shouted out. All of a sudden, your beloved knight looked panicked, and you were about to ask what happened when he looked back into your eyes.

“Human, I am aware that I have not been very straightforward with my feelings for the past year that I have known you. I, however, want to take this last minute in the year to express them. I love you, Y/N L/N,” You could here the others start to count down, “And I understand if you do not wish to say it yet at this point in our relationship-”

“3, 2, 1!!!” The others shouted.

Quickly, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, closing your eyes. Your heart was pounding as you felt all the oxygen in your lungs quickly disappear, and when you broke apart from him, you smiled.

“I love you, too, Sebek Zigvolt.”

[pixiesfz]

we need a dad Jessie fic please 🫶🏼

I am a D.I.L.F

Dangerously In Love with Fleming

father to be j.f

plot: You and Jessie are preparing for your baby but Jessie is somehow picking up dad traits?

warnings: fluff, prime Chelsea team, little blurb

“It’s a girl”

The words were magic to your ears as you laid down on the chair, Jessie’s hand entertained with yours as she took a great look at the monitor.

You would love your baby if it was a boy or a girl but you secretly hoped it would be a girl, especially if you planned to have another kid, an older sister would be great for them.

The doctor excused herself from the room before Jessie lowered her body to hug you from behind “we’re having a baby girl” she hummed and you nodded “we’re having a baby girl”.

It was at your private home when you started decorating your daughter’s bedrooms that you noticed the signs of Jessie’s new persona.

“If anyone touches her before she’s eighteen” she grumbled, folding clothes “you touched me before I was eighteen” you smirked and the Canadian glared at you

“That’s different”

You laughed at her expression “what?” She asks “I’m just very impressed at your protectiveness over our unborn child”

The next time was when she came home from training late with target bags.

“Could you not have called to say you went shopping” you stated from the kitchen where you were cooking “sorry baby” Jessie quickly said before kissing your cheek, walking to the table before laying the bags down.

“But there was this sale on kids stuff and-“

“You went shopping for our child without me?”

Jessie’s eyes widened under her cap as she realised her small mistake “the sale was ending tonight, Pernille came as well of that helps”

You cocked your head over “that helps”.

“Okay so I got her some clothes and then I thought cause she’ll be my little princess I got her these”

You tried to ignore the horrendous Elsa dress, not bothering to tell her that Elsa was actually a queen and instead focused on her words “your little princess?”

Jessie ignored you “and then I got books aswelll, some for education and some for entertainment and then I also got little footy boots”

You stared at your wife “This baby will be waiting a couple of years before going on the field Jess” you told her sternly and she slowly nodded.

“I just got excited” she admitted and you smiled, walking towards her “I know, and I love it” you said, wrapping your arms around her “I love you”.

Then came the building of the crib, your belly had grown a lot more and Jessie refused to let you help in the build, claiming that she didn’t want any chance of harm.

“Jessie my father taught me how to use a drill” you told her from the door but she had her fists on her hips and crossed her head “no you’re not doing it” she said before grabbing the drill again.

“You’re so stubborn” you grumbled from you space “Give me twenty minutes, then I’ll start the pram”

You watched her for the next fourty minutes as she completed the crib, many YouTube videos and calls to her family helped her along the way.

But you smiled in awe at your proud girlfriend who stared at her creation, hands on her hips with her training gear still on, she was so excited to start making it as soon as she got home.

In all honesty early she reminded you of your own father and the pictures you had of him when waiting for your little siblings.

“Onto the pram” she said walking out of the room, only to see that you had already assembled it.

You had finally realised what part of the parenting trope Jessie had picked about a month before you were due when she kept checking her phone.

Jessie was not a social person, let alone a social media type person but she never told you what she was looking at.

Until she started using them on you.

them as in dad jokes…

“Hey babe, did you hear about that Actor who broke his leg, turns out he’s still in the cast”

You rolled your head back with a groan as you had heard the eighth joke that night “How many times have you told that one?” You ask, sitting down next to her.

“Erin and Adam loved it when I told it at training”

“Of course they did.”

Though throughout the traits that Jessie had picked up you still loved her more than anything in the world, you would even go out to say you learned to love her even more but you didn’t want to enlarge her ego any more.

Instead you cuddled up into her side “You’re going to be such a good mum” you told her and you felt her relax “yeah?” She asked and you nodded.

“I can’t wait.”

[ilovefootballwrs]

With Me Forever - Part |

A part of the So Long, London series.

Reader x Jessie Fleming

Based on a Norwegian song called "For Evig", by Chris Holstein.

"If that was all we got, was only a moment. Then it's with me forever. If it's the last night, and we'll never see each other again. Then it's with me forever."

..................

The news of Jessie's departure didn't shock me, I already knew about it long before the others. What shocked me was how far she was going, and everything went so fast. Soon she was going to be living almost a 10 hour flight from London, from me. I would never try to stop her, it wouldn't be fair, but at the same time the distance wouldn't be fair for either of us.

. . .

"It's so weird that it's Jessie's last day in London today. When is she leaving again?" Guro asked me. Guro was always like a big sister to me. We both play for Norway, and with her being a couple of years older than me, she basically watched me grow up and our bond grew into a sibling like friendship.

"Uhm...I think her flight leaves at midnight, so probably some time before that." I said with a sad smile on my lips.

"Listen, I know how hard this is for you. You know you can always come to me if there's anything wrong, right?" She asked with a look of concern on her face.

"So cliché." I laughed. "I know Guro, I will." I gave her a genuin smile. "I have to go now, I'm helping Jessie pack the rest of her stuff, bye!"

. . .

The feeling I'm feeling right now got to be the worst feeling on earth. Packing away her stuff for her to move away is the last thing I want to do. My heart clenches for every item I pack away.

I'm just placed the last of her items in the box when I hear footsteps behind me.

"It's much more emptier now." Jessie said as she went to sit on the bed.

I looked up at her. "Well, I guess you were the one that owned most of the stuff in here.

I stood up and went to sit beside her, putting head on her shoulder and interlocked our hands.

"I'm sorry for leaving" I could her the sadness in her voice. I took my head of her shoulder to look at her. Her cheeks were slightly more red than usual and she had tears in her eyes.

"Please don't cry, Jess." I put my hand on her cheek and continued to talk. "I don't blame you for leaving, I will never ever blame you. This is just something you have to do." I tried reassuring her.

"I'm still sorry. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you." The tears fell down her face and I could feel my eyes starting to tear up.

"I don't know either." I whispered. "I never wanted to lose you."

"You don't have to you know. You don't have to lose me." She said.

"Jess-" I started before getting interrupted by her.

"Y/N we, us, don't need to be over just because I'm leaving. Obviously I would never ask you to leave Chelsea for me, but we could do long distance." She said with a pleading look. "Please Y/N- don't let this be the end of us."

"I really wish it was that simple Jess, I really do, but I don't think I could do it. My heart couldn't take it Jess." At this point I was sobbing, not giving a care in the world. "I'm really sorry Jess, I really am."

. . .

We ended up spending the last couple of hours in each others arms before Niamh came to pick Jessie up. We both figured it was easier for the both of us if it was Niamh driving Jessie to the airport.

Niamh was sat in her car to give us space to say our goodbye. We hug before Jessie pulls away. "I'll always love you Y/N. No matter what happens, you will always be the love of my life."

She pulls me back in to give me a kiss. "Our memories will be with me forever, Jessie. As will my love for you." I tell her before she has to go.

I watch her get in the car and give her a wave and a smile when she's inside it. She returns the wave with a sad smile.

. . .

It's been two weeks since Jessie left. The two most horrible week. My whole routine has changed now that Jessie is gone. I don't wake up the smell of fresh coffee and a kiss anymore. I don't get to steal my favorite hoodie of hers anymore. I don't get the "I love you"s from her anymore. And there is no one to hold me in the nights anymore.

When vacuuming the bedroom, which Jessie usually used to do, I stumble across a box under the bed. It must've been Jessies. I pick it up and put it on the bed, while I also go to sit on the bed. I don't know what to do. Should I open it? Maybe she wouldn't want me to do that? Was that the reason for why it was under the bed? Because she didn't want me to find it? I thought about it for a while before thinking "What the hell." and opening it. The box was full of pictures. I recognized some of the pictures from being from our dates together, but most of them was just of me. It was literally just of me doing the most domestic things ever, like cooking or cleaning. I look through the pictures for a while before seeing a smaller box inside the box. I can feel my hands shaking as I go to pick up the box. I open the box and see the most gorgeous ring I've ever seen. I take it out of the box and try it on. It fits perfectly.

I immediately pick up the phone.

"In how long can you come over?" I ask.

………………….

A/N: The other parts of this series are going to be longer, this was just a start of it.

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FIVE — CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: after you get kicked off the cheerleading squad by an enraged tina, you're stranded in a rainstorm of biblical proprtions- and the only safe haven is eddie munson's trailer. fuck. content warnings: MINORS DNI I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU HERE- male masturbation, sexualized language, some mild objectification, cursing, smoking, drinking, drug mention, reader backstory (i do it for the plot the plot the plot), steve harrington cameo, reader is a pretentious bitch word count: 10.1k

Dear reader, Joan Didion said something because Joan Didion is always saying something. Particularly to me. She comes at me hard, smacking me in the back of the head with perfect clarity and I have not gotten around to not resenting her for it yet. 

‘I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.’

Joan Didion probably did not have to stay on nodding terms with a girl she used to be in order to score a cheerleading scholarship because her family blitzed her college fund on ill-chosen legal advice. 

But she’s got a point.  

You remember that day with perfect clarity. 

Middle school had been a lesson in elocution, thanks to your then-best friend Phoebe’s older sister Casey. Phoebe was a relic of your former life– a bookish indoor kid with Coke bottle glasses, a slight stammer and a distinct lack of style. Despite this, you loved Phoebe and she loved you. But more than that, more than anything, you loved that Phoebe had an older sister. 

A cool older sister. 

Casey was popular in the best way, which is to say that she wasn’t showy about it but she wasn’t humble either. By recognizing the power of being hot and likeable, she knew nothing could ever touch her. 

You wanted to be just like that. 

You remember the first time Casey told you you’ve got potential. Her hand-me-downs were a little too big for Phoebe, because Casey had boobs and Phoebe’s hadn’t come in yet. Even as a pre-teen, you knew an opportunity when you saw it. Can I try that top? And you did, flipping your hair and adjusting yourself in the mirror just like you’d watched Casey do a hundred times, sitting on her bedroom floor and soaking up her knowledge while Phoebe moaned and sulked about being bored. 

Check you out, hot stuff, Casey had smirked, but not in a way where you felt stupid. You’ve got potential.

The shirt didn’t feel entirely right on you, but the way Casey regarded you did. 

Fast forward– your first day of freshman year. You were in the parking lot, stepping out of the passenger side of Casey’s car. Phoebe slid out of the back seat, shoulders slumped forward. You were dressed in an outfit that you and Casey spent hours agonizing over the night before–first impressions are everything, girl–while, again, Phoebe looked on glaring. 

Come meet some of the crew, Casey said, pointedly to you and not to Phoebe. 

Hey– I thought were were going to find our homerooms together, Phoebe protested, grabbing you by the elbow. She knew she wasn’t invited. And she didn’t care– she’d never cared for Casey and her ‘airhead ways’, as she so derisively called them. 

Yeah, girl! you affirmed, a note-perfect impression of her older sister. Phoebe’s big eyes flared with disbelief. You’d spent junior high carefully studying Casey’s every movement, absorbing and adopting her behaviors as your own. Stella Adler would have loved your ass. Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?

Make a move, freshman! Casey yelled, and you came trotting after her. There would be no catching up later, and you knew that. You bit back the sinking in your stomach with a Bonne Bell-glossed smile. 

Look, I love my sister, Casey murmured, but I’m glad that you’re my little freshman experiment, ‘kay? You are way more fun that Phoebs and her goddamn library card. 

You nodded, wordlessly grateful. Way more fun. The older girl confiding in you like this made you feel warm, included, grown-up. But not quite so grown-up that you remembered to watch where you were going– the laces of your left Chuck Taylor All-Stars came undone, sending you tripping– tripping–

Oof! Right into the muscular arms of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington and his autumn colored eyes, his swathe of hair that seemed to grow more voluminous the more girls he flirted with, his shock of grown-up cologne and his perfect, perfect, perfect smile.

But it wasn’t just Steve Harrington. It was also all the surrounding popular kids that had already made a name for themselves coming up alongside you in middle school–Tina, Carol and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan–mingling with the older kids. 

You okay? Steve asked, his voice all breathy and cute the way boys voices are when they’re halfway making fun of you. 

Uh-huh, you nodded, lashes fluttering like crazy as you wracked your brain for something smart to say. 

Let me help you out here.

Then Steve did something you never thought possible, something right out of your daydreams. He got down on one knee and started to re-tie your shoe. 

Better watch yourself, Lacy, he said, tightening the bunny ears, gazing right up at you, Wiping out on the first day is not a good look.

Lacy. Lacy. Your heartbeat quickened at the nickname, hammering like hummingbird wings. It was the greatest thing you’d ever heard– it makes you feel fresh. New. Seen for the first time. Seen by Steve Harrington for the first time. 

Can you blame me? you said before you knew you were saying it; a common occurrence with you, You’re just too easy to fall for, Harrington. 

You drawled out too easy like you’re making fun of him, which of course you weren’t, because he’s Steve Harrington and you would never– but it earned some warm guffaws from the surrounding kids and a little ugh, please, from Tommy Hagan. 

Hagan’s something else. Hagan’s hated you since day dot, and you him. You remember his merciless teasing of some kid during Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party, the last boy-girl party of your middle school careers, goading that they were too chicken to go into the closet with you for Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Steve grinned at you, eyebrows quirking upward. A fizzing feeling ran through your sternum and you felt like you might faint. Casey threw an arm around your shoulder, a magnet for attention. Well, it looks like some of you already know my little Lacy! You guys better be fuckin’ cool to her, okay, or else you’ve got me to answer to. 

You smiled up at her, the older sister you’d always prayed for, and she looked impressed with you. That’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. That, and for Steve Harrington and everybody else to never quit calling you Lacy. 

And they didn’t.

Everything you’d gleaned from Casey equipped you to cruise through freshman year with no speedbumps, no checkpoints– you knew exactly how to wear your hair, how to flirt, how not to flirt, what not to eat, who not to be seen with… and even better than that, these people really took a shine to you. The girls especially.

Hawkins isn’t kind to teenage girls. It’s heavy with passive-aggressive Midwestern sensibility, with all the backwards, misogynistic attitude that comes along with that. It’s not overt, it’s insidious. It makes sense that these girls were scared. Few women make it out of here, and look at the ones that don’t. Their mothers. Your mother.

But what was even scarier was to want something more. To strive for better and be met with the begrudgery of your attempt. To think about life outside the snowglobe of this wicked little town. 

That's the thing with wanting. It doesn’t leave you alone. It gnaws at you while you zone out in the cafeteria, churning around with the half fat yogurt in your stomach. It finds you in the middle of the night, awake on the floor of your friend Carol’s room after an evening of pounding secret wine coolers and picking apart the rest of the Hawkins student body for their flaws and faults, looking around at your friends and thinking, 

God, I fucking hate these people. God, I’ve got to get out.

And you were working on it. Like a motherfucker, you were working on it– perfect grades, perfect attendance, the perfect extracurriculars in an excruciating balancing act with your demanding social life. Keep your record spotless and you could fly the coop to any college you wanted.

One such extracurricular was–is cheerleading. And god, you were great. You’re a flyer, one of the shining, pretty faces responsible for revving up the Hawkins Tigers and their adoring fans. Given your propensity for perfectionism, it’s an obvious position for you. Tina, the reigning captain of the cheer squad, had even taken you under her wing and spit shined up your back handsprings when you tried out as a freshman. Tina had a prior career as a child gymnast, making her a shoo-in for the title come senior year. And here she is now, hollering you all into formation. 

It’s Thursday, and it’s still the week from hell. You had almost forgot about cheer practice, but here you are, in your green and white and gold, ponytail too tight and bruise fading out. The tension between you and Tina casts a thick haze over the gym, the other, less-clued-in members of the squad not exactly knowing where to look. 

It probably wasn’t fair, outing Tina and her indiscretion with Hagan like that. But you felt like a cornered animal. It was all you could do, after all of them subtly chipping away at you for weeks when you’d done nothing but be there for them. Wiped their tears. 

Bought their crabs lotion, in Tina’s case. 

“Sloppy, Lacy! Again!” She’s drilling you like you’ve never been drilled before. Each twist and flip you perform, she finds something wrong with it– and you can’t even tell her she’s wrong. You have gotten sloppy, because your head’s not in the game. While cheerleading was a social and athletic high at one time, it wasn’t high on your list of priorities right now. Dismounting your bases and tugging your ponytail ever tighter over your skull, you stalk towards her. 

“Alright, Tina!” you yell, bubbling over with frustration. “How about you just drop the Russian gym coach bit and tell me what I’m doing wrong? Or is yelling at me all you got?” 

She does her best attempt at a withering glare. You can’t help but think it looks like something she learned from you. “How about I show you instead?”

Tina shoulder checks you, hard, and calls to one of the underclassmen. A mousy sophomore with sandy bangs and blazing Bambi eyes. This kid looks terrified, and knowing Tina’s reputation, she should be. “Cunningham! You’re up!”

Chrissy Cunningham. Right. Heir to the throne of Hawkins High. You don’t think you’ve heard her speak more than a couple of words and most of those have been in response to her Aryan meathead boyfriend, Jason Carver. 

But for what Cunningham lacks in vocal force, she makes up for in aerodynamics. This girl makes a basket toss look like ballet, ponytail pirouetting as she lands in the bases’ arms. Every move, faultless. She’s locked in. 

“That is what I want. What I don’t want, Lacy, is a flyer that looks like she’s losing control of her rectum mid-toss,” Tina hollers. “We all know how crucial this weekend is. Not just for us, but for the Tigers, too. Right? So that means the last thing we need is dead weight dragging us down.” She locks her laserlike stare on you. “Right?”

The squad mumbles in the affirmative. Chrissy Cunningham visibly gulps.

And you? A knife slices right through you, cold and exacting. You almost gag, trying to swallow through your thickening throat. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“You tell me, Lace. You’re the one that knows everything.”

You don’t waste a second of time trying to counter-argue, because you can’t be sure it won’t end in your limbs flailing, trying to smash Tina’s head against the waxed floorboards of the gym. Instead, you grab your bag. You give the squad a grimacing nod and head to heave the double doors open. 

The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor makes you want to tear your shoes off and throw them through a window, just to watch the glass shatter.

You really never thought of yourself as a violent person, not until– everything happened. 

But now, god, now you just want to punch and tear and rip everything apart. This slow burn of your social status, your friends, your tether to reality as you know it slipping away is torturous. You’d rather burn it all up than let it swallow you whole. 

Standing on the front steps of the school, your eyes automatically dart to the parking lot. 

It’s not there. He’s not there.

And why would he be? you think, starting in the direction of the trailer park. You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in the record store, leaving him hanging with his hands behind his back and his mouth in that grin.

There was a reason for that. Call it post-high clarity or something else, but you knew right then you needed to focus the fuck up. Quit acting out because of your daddy’s mistakes and prove all of these shitheels wrong once and for all. 

Blend in. Stop causing trouble. Fall in line and study hard and cheer harder and get the hell out of dodge once you get your hands on that high school diploma. By whatever means necessary. Those means really did not include hanging out with Eddie Munson for even a second longer than you already had. 

–which is a nice thought and all, but Tina really shit all over that one with this shedding the dead weight move. 

The clouds above you carry the most pathetic of pathetic fallacies, gray and pregnant with rain that starts to hit you square on the crown of your head in fat, heavy drops. You’re still fifteen minutes from the trailer park, at least, and you don’t have a raincoat. You don’t have an umbrella. And you don’t fucking care.

You stomp up the dirt drive leading into Forest Hills, the pleats of your green skirt heavy with water, your cheerleader’s cardigan weighing down your shoulders. Your white knee-high socks are flecked with mud and getting dirtier with every sloppy step. And the rain, the relentless relentless rain, is streaming into your eyes, streaming mascara with it. 

You gasp against the cold of the downpour as you approach your trailer– and a glowing yellow light catches in your peripheral vision. His bedroom, the one you can see into from your bedroom. Though you try not to look. And sometimes you fail. 

You don’t see much, when you do look. It’s mostly his hunching figure, bent over his guitar or some binder or book or map or figurine. But he always seems calmer, the frenetic energy he wears around like chainmail finally falling to the floor. Watching him like that makes you want to breathe a sigh of relief right along with him, just to see if you’d feel similarly. Calmer. 

Calm is not how you feel right now, wiping the rain from your face as you dig in your bag for your keys. Once, twice, thrice they slip out of your hands, and on the fourth try, you finally get them in the door. And then– the key strains in the lock. Come on. This door has always been unnecessarily sticky, but this wasn’t really the time– you push and you push the silver key to the left with no give. 

Was your mom in there? Had she left her key in the door by accident before she went on another overnighter with Prince Valium? “Mom! Mom!” you yell, hammering on the door. No dice. You pull at the key again, and pull and pull and– 

Snap.

You shudder, a full body shake that’s only partially down to the rainwater that’s soaked you right to the bone marrow. The key has snapped off in the lock, leaving you standing there with a useless silver nub. 

“Fuck!” you holler, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck! Fucking–shit!” 

Your fists go straight to the side of the trailer, banging one after the other against the metallic veneer. You don’t care that it hurts your knuckles, you want it to dent or crack or something, you want to not feel so impotent and fucking useless, but here you are! 

“Hey! Asshole!”

Your head whips around, heavy, sodden ponytail smacking you in the face. 

Eddie Munson is leaning out his bedroom window, barely visible through the downpour. 

“Keep it down! You’re in a residential goddamn area!” He’s not smiling that shiteating smile. He’s not even grinning. He’s just glowering at you, which is the look you’re most accustomed to seeing him wear. Even so, it feels– it feels– it makes you feel worse. 

“Fuck you!” you scream across to him, “Who died and made you the fucking neighborhood watch?!”

“Go inside, you lunatic!”

“My fucking– my key broke off, dickhead!” 

That makes his brow loosen a little bit. You just stand there, gasping in the rain. And then he disappears from the window–

–only to fling open the front door of his trailer. 

“Come on,” he grumbles, massaging the space between his eyebrows like he can’t believe what he’s fucking doing. 

“No.” 

“What? Cut the shit, Lacy, come inside.” 

“No! I don’t want to!” 

Munson’s face opens up in an expression of sheer incredulity– and you partially can’t believe yourself either. What is it about him that just makes you shove and shove and shove, unable to let him win– or in this case, unable to let him help? 

“Fine! Fucking drown out there for all I care!” The trailer door slams.

Your teeth have started to chatter, and your options from here on out are… walk or hitch your way back to town and drag your sodden ass somewhere there’s a phone where you then call your mom and pray she’ll pick up (she won’t) and tell her about the lock and try to tell her about the cheerleading squad and pray she’ll understand how upset you are (she won’t) and how much of an awful spiral this whole year has become and it’s not even Christmas yet and–

The trailer door swings back open. 

Eddie Munson comes stalking out into the rain, white Reeboks splattering mud everywhere. He’s wearing that shirt from his Dungeons and Dragons club, the one with the big fucking smug Satan splayed across it and you wonder, did he model that after himself? 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he asks, point blank. It feels like he’s aiming something at you. 

“I’m having a shitty fucking day!” you scream in response, making that dog belonging to that red headed kid sister of Billy Hargrove’s yap somewhere in the distance. “And I keep telling you, I don’t need your fucking–”

“Help? Right!” he scoffs, loud and indignant, crossing his arms across his chest. The fabric of the ringer tee is changing color before your eyes, clinging to him. “You don’t need my help yet you always take it, you don’t wanna be seen with me yet you end up at my lunch table, in my van, smoking my weed– you know, it may shock you but I’m not exactly thrilled to be seen with you either, Lacy! I mean, playing chauffeur to a grade A certified bitch that wouldn’t give me the time of day unless she was desperate? Who stood by and let her shitty friends, who aren’t even her friends anymore, make mine and my friends’ life a living hell for how many years? What kind of an asshole does that make me? How pathetic is that?” 

The way he spits the word bitch– it was different from the way he said it in the record store. There, it felt like a come-on. A compliment. Here, it feels like a curse. But oh, he doesn’t stop there! You are rooted to the spot, an unmoving target for his justified rage. 

“You can’t even play ignorant, y’know, because I’ve seen you. You’re smarter than them. You know how godawful those people are–Harrington, Carver, Carol, fucking Hagan worst of all–and you just let ‘em run. Because you needed that status, you needed to be the most evil fucking twat at the twat table, and for what? They left you, Lacy! They all left you!” 

You’re not sure at what point in his speech you started sobbing but at its crescendo, you yelp. It’s a high, pathetic sound you wish you could stuff back inside your throat and hopefully choke yourself with. See, you know all these things. You’ve told them to yourself in your most honest moments, of which there are not many, but having Eddie Munson lay them out for you in the pouring rain– it’s horrible. You’re horrible. 

Eddie’s arms move from where they were bound on his chest. Okay, that was an outburst, sure, but he didn’t mean to make you cry. And you’re like, really crying. He can’t stand it when girls cry, and you, in particular–you, having never displayed much emotion beyond bemusement and annoyance and mild disgust toward him–is especially frightening. 

And then you let out this scream. It comes right from the center of your chest, rumbling and primal and visceral and real. It’s a real noise, not one you put careful, curative thought into, tuning it just right before you let it out. Because in this instance, he’s right! You’ve worked so hard, and for what! For fucking nothing! For it to blow up in your face! So you let out another howl– and it feels so, so good. A feeling of satisfaction, more than a feeling of relief–

–so Eddie screams too. God, that feels fantastic.

His is heavier than yours, obviously, because he’s a guy and he probably screams as a hobby in whatever metal band he supposedly plays in. But you like that sound. You like the way it seems to ring off the exteriors of the trailer, ricocheting around like a pinball in its machine. 

A couple more painful sobs escape you, and Eddie’s taking tentative steps toward you, like you’re a snarling animal he’s trying to coax. 

In ways, you are, but that’s because you feel hunted. You have to blink, through tears and through rain, but you see that his shirt is so soaked that it’s see-through. You can see a vague suggestion of a tattoo on his chest. You see that he’s fighting a smile. 

This is so stupid. This is so ridiculous, that you could make a noise like that and completely short circuit the white hot anger he was spewing at you. 

“Come inside,” he breathes, a little less than a foot of space between you, “You lunatic.”

Your head, so heavy on your neck, so heavy from crying, so heavy from carrying your spiteful brain around, falls against his chest. 

“Uhh…” Eddie mumbles, hands hovering behind your back, not sure if he’s supposed to embrace you or if you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. Either could be true. 

You know what you’d prefer. 

You’re positive he doesn’t here you exhale into his chest, into the mouth of the cartoon Satan, into the thrum of his jumping heartbeat. Sorry. I’m really… I’m so sorry.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “hey. Shit.” His hand finally rests in between your shoulder blades. You let him guide you inside, and he even picks up the book bag you had thrown in the mud. You reach, try to grab it from him, but he yanks it out of your grasp. Half teasing, half assuring you that it’s okay.

A squeaky, squelching silence settles between you two as you stand in his doorway. You’re creating a puddle near some old work boots. You wonder if they’re his– you’ve never seen him not wear those Reeboks. 

“So… welcome,” he cringes, emitting a pitchy, awkward laugh. You follow him through to the kitchenette, which is identical to your kitchenette, except every surface is not covered in legal correspondence or empty wine bottles or too-expensive tchotchkes. The light in here seems dimmer, warmer. There’s a distinct aroma of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee, which you breathe in deep. “Sorry for the mess–”

“It’s fine. It’s good mess,” you say, a little distant. You peer around the place like you’re in a gallery. 

“Good mess?” he queries, crossing to the kitchen sink where he attempts to wring his shirt out by hand– still wearing it. 

“Lived-in mess,” you say. What you mean is, it doesn’t look like a mausoleum of a life someone left behind. A storage locker. A haphazard sarcophagus. Before you moved to the trailer, your house was so clean– that was a whole other problem. The same tchotchkes that are scattered on your counter were kept behind glass, only touched when your mother polished them, the only housework she ever did. You stare at a collection of trucker hats nailed along the living room wall, the shelf of novelty mugs that accompanies them. 

“Living in mess? What is that, like living in filth? You better start showing this fine abode some respect before–”

“Lived. In. Munson, I said, lived in if you would just listen– it’s good, it’s fine. It’s n-nice.” 

It’s warm in the trailer, you can tell, but you’re shivering. You bear down in your body, jaw all set so your teeth don’t start chattering again, but he hears it in your voice. 

“Uh-oh,” he says, somehow not at all betraying any signs of being out in the freezing rain except for being entirely soaked. You bet his skin is still running hot, like you felt through his shirt, like you felt grabbing his wrist. “Star cheerleader’s coming down with a case of hypothermia. Right before the big game!” 

He slaps his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. 

“I’m–” you’re about to tell him a couple things; one, that you’re fine which would be stupid, because you are so clearly not fine; two, you’re not the star cheerleader anymore; and a third, forgotten thing. “--cold,” is what you settle on. It sounds small, vulnerable.

Eddie holds his breath for a second. You sound so delicate. Hard, terrible you.

“No, sure, of course you are,” he fumbles. The way his wet hair has flattened to his skull makes him look younger– exposing a nervous boy behind the metalhead posturing. “You can– take a shower. If you want. To warm up.” 

Take a shower. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. Your eyelids flutter closed, taking on their own vibrations from the wracking of your body. This is a hell of my own making. “Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

“I can also,” he starts, crossing the kitchen again and knocking something over on his way– it just clatters to the floor, whatever it was, and he lets it, like he’s used to leaving crashing sounds in his wake. “I can take your clothes if you want. Put ‘em in the washer.” 

You hesitate a beat, then follow him down a hallway. 

“I probably have something you can wear,” he says. There’s a note in his tone that’s high and nervous. “You’re for sure gonna hate it, but hey– beats freezing to death.” 

“Just barely,” you murmur. 

“Huh?”

“This, uh– this is dry-clean only,” you correct yourself, gesturing to the uniform. 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Only the best for the pom-pom shakers.” 

He ducks into a room that must be his bedroom, but you don’t follow him. Instead, you linger in the hallway, near the dingy bathroom, staring at the corn themed wall calendar. Going into his bedroom feels too personal– too intimate, as if preparing to take a shower in Eddie Munson’s trailer only to change into his clothes isn’t intimate. 

“I figured,” he says, emerging from the bedroom with clothes and a towel in hand, “since you like all that rinky-dinky-tinkly garbage, you wouldn’t hate wearing a Stooges shirt.” 

“I–” the shirt is soft under your wrinkled fingers, as are the boxers he passes off to you. Boxers. You hold them up between your forefinger and thumb, stepping into the bathroom. “These are clean, right?”

Eddie stares at you for a second– then leans his head into the bathroom and shakes his sopping locks at you, just like a dog. You let out a shriek that he thinks almost sounds like an involuntary giggle. I’ll take it.

“No comment!” And he slams the door on you. 

Then you’re standing. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. In Eddie Munson’s bathroom. Holding his old Stooges shirt and his boxers, with mascara running down your face. 

You pinch yourself, hard, just in case. 

The shower heats up quick–quicker than yours, you notice–and you rest your head against the tile as the steam swirls up around you. This is so weird. This is so fucking weird, and you can’t scrub away the weirdness fast enough. There’s not enough Irish Spring in the world. You reach into the shower caddy to replace the bottle and notice something familiar– wait, that’s–

Wait. 

Do you and Eddie Munson use the same brand of shampoo? 

You had to switch from your favorite to the best that the Big Buy had to offer, given the change in your personal means, and this was the top score in terms of quality. Eddie Munson apparently agrees– but better yet, you realize as a grin spreads across your face, Munson uses women’s shampoo. 

It’s nice to have a fresh piece of arsenal to aim at him once you get out of the shower. 

Toweling off and changing, you do give the boxers a wary sniff before you put them on– but luckily, they smell like generic detergent and aren’t stiff in any way. So you slide them on.

They fit snugly– naturally, given he’s all sinewy and you have hips. He is really sinewy, now that you think about it. 

His wrist wasn’t bony, but it was active. Tendons flexing under the thin, soaked layer of his shirt. You wonder, absently, was that a tattoo you saw. What is it. What does it look like. Is it shitty. It’s his, so it’s probably shitty, but I want to see it. Does he have any more. 

You shiver, slipping the Stooges t-shirt on, and blame your hardening nipples on the cold.

The cheer outfit is another problem. You emerge from the bathroom, clutching the still-sodden uniform with Eddie’s– Munson’s towel thrown over your shoulder. 

“Do you have, like, a garbage bag or something?” you ask, eyes rising to look at him where he stands in the doorframe of his room. He’s still in his soaked clothes. 

He takes a second to answer you, and when he does, his voice is all thick. Avoiding eye contact. 

“Suuure,” and he disappears and reappears with a plastic bag, quick as a blink. 

“Thanks.” You dump the uniform, sneakers and all, into the bag and make for the door. 

“Hey, it’s still raining–” his voice follows you, as if you hadn’t heard the raindrop gunshots hitting the trailer roof. 

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’. You yank Munson’s door open and fling the garbage bag outside. It lands squarely between your trailer and his. 

Munson appears over your shoulder, looking out at the garbage bag. His face is twisted in confusion, concern, curiosity. 

“I got kicked off,” you explain, plain as biscuits. 

“Off the pom pom squad?” he whispers, eyes flaring in surprise that you think might actually be real. You’re looking at his lashes again, fanning around the almost-perfect circles of his eye sockets. 

“The very same.”

“Escándalo. What happened?”

“How about you go and shower first,” you suggest, poking a finger into his chest. He makes a little breathy noise, a little ‘unh’, that you don’t… hate. “Can’t have the star dork of the make believe board game club catch his death, can we?” 

“Anything happens to me and you’re the prime suspect, babe,” he grins and snaps the towel off your shoulder. 

“Hey!”

“This is the last clean one. What am I, a fuckin’ Rockefeller?”

-

Christ, he wants to jerk off into this towel but he knows that’s weird. That’s perverted. That’s fucked up. That’s everything everyone says about him and that’s everything you make him feel. 

So he strips, turns the hot water to scalding and furiously rubs one out down the drain. One, because he feels bizarre about leaving you alone among all of his things for too long and two, because hot water is in short supply. 

And three, because he’s achingly rock hard at the sight of you in his boxers, tossing your cheerleading outfit into the mud and the wet. 

The metaphors. The implications. The feeling of your forehead against his chest. The stab of your finger in his sternum. 

He cums jaggedly, almost silently, with his mouth rammed against his forearm. 

If you heard him– God, you’d be so nasty about it. God, he’d never live it down. God, he’d love to know what you’d say.

He makes damn quick work of sudsing up and rinsing down, wrapping a towel around his waist– only to run into you as he’s coming out of the bathroom. 

You stare. You stare at him, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and all the blood drains away from his brain. Again.

“Stare much?” he sneers, but only just about. Because his first instinct is to drop the towel and give you an eyeful. See what you’d do– hopefully something with your mouth. God, he hopes it’d be something with your mouth. 

“Where are your smokes?” you snap back. “I know you have some.”

“Kitchen. There’s probably–,” he needs you to stop looking at him like that; like you’re going to snap his neck, “--kitchen.”

Eddie slams his bedroom door and smacks his face with three quick strikes. “Come on, man! Get it together!” 

Because it’s go time. 

He has to formulate some kind of plan. 

He hadn’t exactly thought ahead when he invited you inside–or, demanded you come inside–and since you now had no place to go and Wayne had specifically told him not to go near you and your boobs were stretching out his dad’s old Stooges t-shirt…

Christ. 

He’s entirely, massively, completely at a loss. Eddie paces around the room like an animal in panic, grabbing a Scorpion shirt and some worn flannel pants as he goes. 

“Like, I’m supposed to go out there and do what? Ask her to hang out? Fucking paint her nails, read Cosmo? Study?! Jesus!” he angrily mumbles to his reflection, tearing the towel away and tugging his t-shirt over his sopping hair. “Hey, Lacy, you wanna beer? Who am I, Steve fucking Harrington? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Munson. Are you talking to me in there?” He hears your voice from a minute distance away– see, that’s the thing about trailers. Small space, thin walls, and Eddie Munson’s voice travels at super speed. 

He stops, seizing, cringing, shoulders hitching up to his ears. 

That was not enough time to formulate a plan. 

Eddie, jankily tugging his pants on, sweeps out to the kitchenette area like something is chasing him and stops dead when he sees you. You haven’t trashed the place. You haven’t even tried to stick your head in the oven, two things he was kind of concerned about given the way you were wailing outside. 

You’re standing in the middle of the room with your hip cocked out, smoking a stolen cigarette and studying his uncle’s trucker hat collection. 

All the air in the room seems to orbit around you like a tornado in slow motion. 

How is it that you make an old shirt and boxers look like a skirt set? How is it that you can be sobbing your lungs out one minute, then the picture of poise and sophistication the next? 

All that air and none left for Eddie to take a breath.

“Hey, Lacy,” he strains, “you wanna beer?” 

“What,” you purr– like, he’s so sure that you actually purr, “You mean you’re all out of Sancerre?”

He does not know what the hell that is, but he can only assume it’s some rich people bullshit– and he’s relieved. You’re mocking him. At least that’s some tether to normalcy. She’s baa-aack. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, not entirely meaning it, but if he beams right at you he’s going to give the game away. 

“Think fast!” He tosses a can of the cheapest beer available at the Big Buy your way and you just about catch it, hands above your head and the cigarette dangling out of your mouth like Keith Richards. 

“God, Munson,” you mumble around the filter, “What kept you off the basketball team?” 

“Half a brain and a big dick,” he smirks, cracking the pull top and snatching the soft pack of cigarettes you’d left on the countertop. You cross from the living room, propping yourself up on the counter stool in a fluid movement that can only be described as feline. 

“Well, we sure can account for one of those things,” you say, ashing with your right hand and tapping at your temple with your left. 

“And the other?” Eddie asks, voice dropping a mocking octave. 

“I’d sooner drink arsenic than find out.”

He raises his beer can to you. “In that case, cheers!”

Your mouth twists around a smile and Eddie can see you’re fighting hard to keep it at bay. And that you’re losing. You tip your beer to your lips and he braces his elbows on the counter, looking around for a lighter. He spots a Bic, but the trigger won’t light it– just sparks, no flame. 

“That thing’s dead,” you say, “I lit this off the toaster.” 

“Oh! Right,” Eddie goes to turn, but something chilly snaps to his forearm. Your fingers. Damn. What is it with you? Circulation thing or what?

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you not to burn the whole trailer down.”

“This is my trailer, y’know.”

“Yeah, and I’m in it. So burn it down on your own time.”

You motion for him to light his cigarette off the half-burned length of yours and Eddie tentatively places the filter between his lips. You prop yourself up on the stool, ass raised from the seat, leaning toward him. He leans in too and you cup that little hand with the perfectly painted fingers around the cigarettes. Like you’re whispering a secret. You look down, focusing on making fire, but Eddie’s eyes follow the tiny crease of your brow, the slope of your nose. The little wipe of mascara still underneath your eye. 

Tips touch and Eddie inhales just as you do. The cherried ends of the smokes glow orange and you pull back and Eddie just stays there a moment, frozen with the now-lit ember hanging out of his mouth. 

You pull back and inhale that smoke like one of those chicks from those black and white movies Wayne is always watching. You exhale all daintily, in one perfect clouding stream. You’re all– you’re so–... 

“Fucked,” you groan, shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I am so fucked.” 

Eddie finally tugs the cigarette from his mouth, filter gone a little soft with the low-level salivating he’d been doing. “Oh. The cheerleader shit?”

“Yes, Munson. The cheerleader shit.” 

“What happened, anyway?” He resumes the position of being elbow-up on the countertop, which incidentally brings him a little bit closer to you. Incidentally. “You crack some skulls this time?”

“Huh,” you chuckle emptily, “Almost. Um, Tina more or less took me out at the knees. Which, I understand of course. If I were her, I would have obliterated me, but–” 

“You’re not her, and it doesn’t feel awesome to be on the other end of obliterated,” Eddie nods, giving you a squint-eyed pout of mock-sympathy. “Poor Lacy. Getting shitkicked by the consequences of her own actions.”

Thunk! You punch him in the shoulder, which hurts and he gasps, but it’s so funny and categorically unladylike coming from you. These little peals of violence that keep coming off you are a seemingly bottomless source of amusement for him. 

She’s so funny-looking when she’s mad. 

“Fuck off!” you bark, as if reading him like a goddamn horoscope, but there’s a glimmer to your narrowed stare. “I got replaced by a sophomore, as if I needed an insult topping on that injury shitshake.” 

“Oh, she Old Yeller’d your ass!” Eddie gasps again, chuckling heartily, “Took you out back and–” He mimes blowing your brains right out, nailing you right through the forehead. You stare at him square, unimpressed. “Who usurped ya?”

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

Oh. Well, isn’t that interesting. Eddie’s lips flatten into a straight line and he makes a little mmh sound. And you pick up on that immediately, being that you’re annoyingly perceptive. 

“Munson! Come on!” 

“What? Whaaat? I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s a child.”

“That is a sophomore and you said so yourself. Besides…” he trails off, pointedly crushing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray until it’s oversquished. “...we have history.”

If his cigarette extinguishing was pointed, yours is needle sharp with the way you crush it into the ashtray right next to the remnants of his. 

“Go on,” you hum, just like you did in the van that last night. I really wanna know. It’s conspiratorial and intoxicating and makes it feel like you’re on his side, which you know he’s not but it’s so, so tasty to think that for a second you might be. 

Is this how you make everyone feel? Lull ‘em into a false sense of security? Hoard your ammo and go apeshit later? 

Eddie draws back, nearly congratulating himself for doing so. “That’s for me to know, and you to die ignorant.” 

The way your lips pop open is almost too good, your little doll face turning to a mask of betrayal too quick for you to hide it. Too quick for you to be all like fine! Keep it to yourself! You’re both totally irrelevant anyway! or whatever other bitchy retort you’re bound to come up with. 

“Wow. Well, if that holds any water, Carver’ll shit,” you start, sipping on your beer, “His little virgin Mary deflowered by the devil’s first alternate.” 

“Hey, I never said–!” Fuck. Fuck! How do you do that! Eddie pinches his lips together as you smirk over the rim of the beer can, all stuck under your gaze. Fly in the spider’s web. 

“A-ha,” you say, irritatingly smoothly. “So nothing happened. She’s just spank bank material.” 

“Didn’t– say that either,” Eddie mumbles, mind going annoyingly blank under your rapid fire tearing and the inebriating way you’re delivering it. He hates this and he has no intention of telling you to stop. The duality of man. 

“Didn’t not say that, though.” 

“You oughta be a lawyer,” he tells you, swigging deep, “the way you find a loophole in everything.”

“The way you want me to get you off, you mean.” 

You come out with that, something so incendiary, oh-so-casually and slip off your seat. She can’t just do that. You’re padding around the living room again, bare footed and small-looking, but Eddie’s staring at you like you’re a hand grenade with the pin missing that also has the secret to everlasting life inside. Terrified. Fascinated. 

A little stiff.

“What?” he breathes, but doesn’t really want you to answer the question. 

And you don’t, you just keep looking around the living room with your arms crossed over your chest. “You need money to be a lawyer, Munson. To go to law school. To go to any school. And I don’t have that. And I foolishly figured getting a cheerleading scholarship would be a cinch of a backup plan, and now I can’t do that either.”

“What are you looking for?” he asks, finally willing his dick down and his legs to work, rounding into the living room with you. 

“Your, like… stereo, or record player, or something,” you murmur, smoothing down his boxers over your hips. “It’s too quiet in here.”

Eddie blinks. What should really happen is he should say, no, stay out here in the silence, you insolent wench. Think on your crimes. Reflect. Repent. Stop being such a bossy little ballbreaker and give my balls a break.

“Room. Uh– it’s in my room,” is what he says instead. 

“‘kay,” is all you say with a little shrug of your shoulder, grabbing your can from the counter and padding down the hallway toward that same bedroom. His bedroom. Eddie Munson’s bedroom with his bed and his shit in it. “Let’s go.”

How irregular does your heartbeat have to get before you classify it as a cardiac event?

-

There’s only so many times you can flagellate yourself with the ol’ what the fuck are you doing thing before it becomes redundant.

Songs get overplayed, nail polish color gets overused, trends die. Things become redundant all the time, and you discard them. 

The notion of what the fuck are you doing in Eddie Munson’s trailer in Eddie Munson’s boxers walking towards Eddie Munson’s bedroom has become redundant because you simply are doing all those things. Not much point in questioning them. The chips have fallen. 

An eerie calm had come over you when he was in the shower and you were staring at all of these trucker hats on the wall– if the insanity is temporary, you might as well lean into it. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped. Might as well get comfortable.

“God, this place is filthy, Munson.” You, with your arms still bound across your chest, toe a discarded t-shirt out of your path as you move into the bedroom with that same reserved interest of a gallery-goer. The place is cluttered, posters and flyers and doodles torn out of notebooks tacked up on the wall in total disarray. Every surface area is covered in what could be organized chaos, but knowing Munson the little that you do, you doubt it. 

To test the theory, you ask, “Where are your records? Tapes, anything?”

But he’s just lingering in the doorway, chewing on the end of a lock of hair. Watching you stand in the middle of the room with astronaut eyes, unblinking. It’s kind of– sweet, in a deeply unnerving way. He looks like a kid. 

Your brow furrows, grimace turning your lips into a point.

“Fine. Ogle me like a goddamn lobotomy patient, then.”

You resume your perusing of his things, when you spot the most precious piece of hardware hanging by the mirror. A marbled black and red body fashioned into nasty spikes. You reach out to give the strings an aimless thrum but your wrist is rapidly snatched away. 

“Nuh-uh. That’s where I draw the line,” Munson says, shuffling you away from the guitar like a security guard. A flash of something as your calves hit his mattress– him shepherding you toward your own bed, you drunk out of your gourd. “Siddown.”

And you sit, bouncing against the sinking mattress on impact. Rubbing at the spot on your wrist that his fingers had been squeezing. Staring up at him glowering down at you. “Ow.”

And Munson, it turns out, knows where everything is in his nuclear fallout of a room. He shoves a shoebox of tapes into your hands and nudges a bigger milk crate full of records nearer to you with his foot. 

“Knock yourself out,” he huffs, flinging himself face-down on the mattress next to you. You jerk; always the court jester, this guy. “Not that you’re gonna find anything you want to listen to.” 

A scoff flies out of your mouth before you’ve got a chance to suppress it– he’s gotta know, right? He’s gotta know he can’t just say shit like that to you without you fully activating that I can do anything you can do better–backwards–bleeding–in heels chip in your brain. You’ll show him. There’s nothing that matters to you more in the world right now than showing him. 

Though, rattling through his box of tapes, each one bearing a different variation of hot chick and the Devil artwork, you’ve got your work cut out for you. W.A.S.P. Mercyful Fate. Dirty Rotten Imbeciles. Witchfinder General. Some band that’s literally just called Loudness, for Chrissake. As you flick and flick, hope wavering, one catches your eye. There’s a jump in your throat. Scrawled letterhead against a draped satin background. A photo of something you always figured was a headless marble statue, though you could never be sure. 

“Why do you have this?”

No response from the corpse of Munson, presumably smothered by his own comforter.

“Hey!” you tap the back of his skull with the plastic casing. One eye appears, glaring up at you from the mattress. Rattle rattle goes the Cocteau Twins tape as you shake it in its case. “Thought this was haunted doll music.” 

“Ow.” Munson slowly raises himself onto his elbows, looking like he’s about to start kicking his legs in the air behind him. Twirling his hair around his finger. A grin is edging onto his lips, lips he’s pulling strands of hair away from. 

“Sometimes the five finger discount chooses you.” 

A feeling akin to heat spreads rights across your breastbone. You want to pry, secretly. You want an explanation. Why would you take that? Do you like me, or something? But asking speaks it into existence, and the insanity is temporary, and you’re so waiting for dawn to break on it so you can resume some hobbled together semblance of a normal existence. 

One that doesn’t include Eddie Munson stealing tapes that make you feel ticklish in order to, I don’t know, listen to them on his own so he can feel ticklish too. 

He hadn’t listened to it, for the record. Not all the way through, at least. 

He’d gotten as far as track two and had to switch it off, ejecting it out of the tape deck of his van with such speed that he was sure it’d shoot clean through the doors in the back. Too close, too real. That had veered a little out of the lane of objectifying you as someone whose crotch he maybe wanted to bury his face in and a little into the lane of you being like, a person. With feelings. 

The events of tonight aren’t helping that case. He hoped that lying face down for as long as he possibly could might let them just unfold around him, like he’d roll over and you’d just be gone, no evidence left behind except for your hair in the drain. 

But you demand attention. Eddie might be obvious, but you demand attention. His attention, at least. 

He grabs the tape from you. “We’re not listenin’ to that bullshit. Try again.”

“Fine!” you snap, but there’s this irritating bemusement dancing around your face. 

You lean forward from your spot on the mattress and tug the milk crate between your calves. Now, this is more your lane– in here, Munson’s got the classics. Or as close to the classics as he will deign to recognise. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Alice Cooper, Blue Öyster Cult– the combination of which you have something borderline mean to say about, but you’ll leave that ‘til later. You dig around, and then.

And then. Hello there, handsome.

In your hands are twelve inches of beauty, belonging to a grisly-voiced Tom Waits. Blue Valentine. Straight to the record player with this old bastard.

“People give this record too much shit,” you remark, and Eddie watches you as you tentatively lift a sock off the turntable. Yeah, he’ll cop to it, he doesn’t take such good care of some of his gear, but sometimes his brain behaves like a police scanner. Lotta channels operating at once. Anyway. Doesn’t matter. He’s watching you lift the needle onto the vinyl right now. “People say that this is a mediocre addition to the oeuvre, but what is mediocre about this–!”

Rousing strings seep from the stereo speakers– it’s Waits’ cover of Somewhere from West Side Story. Eddie knows it within the first half a second because, and now he’ll never admit it since he knows you like it so much, he has played this album to death. 

Somewhere around the halfway mark of Christmas Card For a Hooker in Minneapolis, the record will skip because it's scratched. Or well-loved, if you ask Eddie. 

“Fucking Robert Christgau thinks he’s being funny, doing this, y’know,” you sneer, examining the record sleeve as if you hadn’t seen it thirty thousand times before. Your copy had been lost in the move, among a number of your little sonic secrets. The records you’d keep to listen to by yourself, lying on your bedroom floor. “As if the whole core of Tom Waits’ whole thing isn’t heartache, the sentimentality of what-if. What if we could, what if life wasn’t garbage. That’s sentimentality, right there. It’s West Side Story, I mean, c'mon. Tom Waits is singing to us with his heart on his sleeve, but Christgau wants to suddenly be pedantic, turn around and be like, it’s a vaudeville act! because Waits sometimes also wears his dick on his sleeve.”

It’s a tirade you’ve often repeated to yourself, in your diary or alone in your room, pretending like you’re on a panel, pretending like you’re Susan Sontag and people actually give a shit what you actually have to say. You can’t exactly figure why you’ve said it again now. Maybe because you always found the strings on this song too much to bear without emoting, and you’re already vulnerable and tired. 

Munson, for his part, has flipped over onto his back on the mattress. “Who?” he drones.

“Robert Christgau,” you say, momentarily distracted by the way his shirt has rucked up around his belly. No six pack. Some meat there. Tendons, like you’d noticed before. “Just one of the most seminal rock writers of our time.”

You have a well-thumbed copy of his Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies somewhere in a still-unpacked box.

Munson has a happy trail that curls like brushstrokes.

“You fucking trifler,” you grumble.

His face takes on that terrible look that he’d given you in the record store, all enraptured and cloudy at the corners of his eyes. Looking at you from where he leans on his elbows, one knee propped up, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. You want to shove it back down. 

And see what he’ll do about that. 

“How do you know all this shit?” he asks. Eddie can’t help this. He can’t help that he keeps changing his channel about you (again, police scanner) because one second you’ll be such a massive pain in the ass, then the next, you’ll say something so clever that it’ll make him want to vomit. 

“I like music,” you say, flatly. You give it to him straight, because you suddenly feel searched. You clutch Waitsy’s printed face to your chest in an effort of self-defense. “And I like… words. Kind of makes sense that I would enjoy music journalism, if you’re not totally stupid.” 

“I’m only a little stupid.” 

“Debatable.” 

“Wait, but I mean–” and he’s gearing up, because Eddie is about to ask you a real question. Something that’s been on his mind, the more ice shavings he can tear off of you. Considering you, all three dimensions of you– four, if you add in how much you like to punch him and stuff. “You’re like, incredibly smart, right.”

“Yes.”

“Like, perfect grades.”

“Almost. Save Kaminsky, because he can’t teach for shit and he can’t grade for piss.”

“And you’re a cheerleader… like, an important one?”

“Artist formerly known as, but yes.”

“And you’re on the newspaper.” 

“Very perceptive, aren't we.”

“You’re also popular– or, yeah, were. You party and stuff. You’re always hanging out with those assholes who don’t do half the shit that you do.”

 “Are you closing in on a point here, Munson?”

“How?” he nearly whispers, tone close to dreamy. “You’ve gotta have like, body doubles running around or something because no human person could possibly have that much time in the day. How the fuck did you do all that and also be running around ready to cite, like, an issue of the New Yorker from 1975, and not go completely insane?”

How do you know I’m not completely insane. Because, if he had ever witnessed how Jekyll and Hyde you could get, smacking the shit out of yourself with your hairbrush before you could turn on and be Lacy the cheerleader, Lacy the hot chick, Lacy the playground bitch, he would think you are totally insane. 

You answer him half-straight this time. 

“Diet pills.”

This makes him sit up, and makes you take a couple of steps back towards the bed. You flop down, tossing the Blue Valentine sleeve to the side. 

“Diet pills,” he repeats. 

“Oohhh, yes,” you nod, drawing the shape of the cylindrical pills on his comforter with your finger. You don’t really want to look up at him. “Rainbow diet pills. Soon as I hit my menses, I started lifting them from my mom.” 

“Isn’t that stuff illegal?” Eddie murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, mimicking your criss-cross applesauce seating position. “It’s basically speed, right?”

“Said the drug dealer,” a snort bursts from you. You’ve moved your fidgeting, starting to braid your half-damp hair. “And it is. It’s fully speed. I was doing baby Valley of the Dolls at age thirteen.”

“That is fucked up, Lacy.” 

“Yeah. Well. I'm a little fucked up, or haven't you heard?” 

“There’s been rumblings.” Eddie watches your fingers work, weaving locks of hair, one over the other. He’s never braided his hair. He wonders what it might look like. You come to the end and twist it around your finger, at a loss for a hair tie. He sticks a finger under his leather and silver bracelet, digging out an elastic he keeps handy, just in case. There are a lot of times that Eddie needs to yank his hair out of his face just to focus. “Here.” 

You mouth a silent thanks and wind the elastic around the tuft of hair. Tom Waits whines away about rain washing memories from the sidewalks and you feel weirdly… at ease. You’ve shared a couple of rainbow diet pills with Nicole and Carol (Tina doesn’t mess with amphetamines, a consummate athlete), but you’ve never had anyone ask you how you’ve managed to be the person you’re pretending to be. 

To put the clues together about your impossible do-it-all identity.

And not react in disgust when he finds out you’re fallible. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. Something about hearing you rattle off, not sniping for once, saying something real… it eased the heartburn. It has loosened his tension around you, a little. He figures it’s his turn to say something real. “I’m sorry I called you evil.” 

Most evil twat at the twat table, you nearly correct. “You had grounds.”

“No, no, I didn’t. You–” this is actually harder for him to get out than he thought, “You’re trying. You’re trying really hard to make the best of a messed up situation, and maybe I should’ve seen that– but I didn’t, because it’s high school, and it’s dumb, and I’m trying too, and we’re all trying, just to survive this messed up microcosm of the world– and– and–" He huffs. It's you gazing at him this time. Eyes sparkling in the half-light cast by his bedside lamp. You're... really pretty. "Jesus, can you just forgive me so I can stop talking?”

“That’s a first,” you say. “Microcosm is a five dollar vocab word, Eddie.”

The way you say his name. “I’m a changed man.”

“Can you use adulation in a sentence next?” Your big grin is devastating.

He leans right into you, dastardly looking suddenly. “Is this provocation getting you hot, you psycho?”

Fingertips braced over your knees, your torso keening just the right amount of degrees to favor him, your stare making an unsubtle job of darting from Eddie’s lashes to his lips to his lashes to his lips… 

“Maybe.” A beat. A heavy beat. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

In any other world, with any other person, the wanting would completely make sense. Wanting him to say nothing more and just do, to plant a big, ringed hand either side of your hips and pull you into his lap. To crush his lips against yours. To dig his hands into your thighs, to wind your fingers into his hair. To feel the chill of silver traveling up, under the back of your borrowed shirt, to press down onto him and–

Hey Charlie, I almost went crazy-ayzy-ayzy-ayzy-ay–

Eddie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t mean to, but his head snaps away from you just as the record starts to skip. 

Then the door slams.

Fuck.

“Ed?”

Wayne.

He totally forgot to formulate that plan.

author's notes: ZOOWEE MAMA HOW WE FEELING ARE YOU STILL WITH ME longest chapter in the fic so far. thanks for keepin up. i love you, let's not waste any time, i don't think i've got a lot of notes for you this go around but i love you - there is nothing more secretly pretentious teenage girl than loving joan didion and susan sontag (i know this because i was her, i am her to this day in fragments) but particularly joan didion on keeping a notebook really sticks to one's ribs. this is not the last joan didion ref in this fic, sorry for being unbearable - stella adler, the mother of method acting - steve harrington being the originator of the nickname lacy is a tribute to him showing signs of being a goofy motherfucker from day dot. please see this post. it was always there, we just couldn't see it in freshman year because of all the hairspray - what's going on with tommy hagan? does anyone really care but me, probably not. but for those that are keeping tick on the timeline (don't)- he got held back senior year, hence why he did not graduate with steve and is in the same grade as eddie, lacy, carol, et al. - WICKED LITTLE TOWN!!!! - the stooges t-shirt is yet another flight of icarus pick; al wears a stooges shirt and i creamed because i love the stooges. let's listen to one of my favorites - loudness are a metal band from osaka, japan! they got signed to an american label in 1985, but how did eddie munson get that tape in hawkins, indiana in 1984? well, my theory is that eddie loves music and jerry from main street vinyl loves benzos. a trade's a trade's a trade. - reader, you are an 18y/o girl who thinks you're better than everyone. of course you're stealing lester bangs' opinions on blue oyster cult and making them your own - and shitting on robert christgau bc you've got a wetty for tom waits - also, here is tom waits' cover of somewhere! my theory on eddie being a tom waits fan-- of course he is, that man looks and sounds like billy goat gruff and is a storytella just like eddie is. he would especially be into his later stuff, like the megalithic orphans album. y'all remember this song from shrek 2 - rainbow diet pills were a real insane thing! this seems more accessible than adderall for the time period, which modern!lacy would certainly have been abusing - for the time that's in it, let me present tom waits' anti-christmas song, christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis my loves, if you've still stuck with me this far, i thank you greatly. i know i'm nutso but i'm having fun writing this fic. i would've been writing it if nobody was reading, but it's a billion times better now that you are. reblogs are always appreciated, and the inbox is always open to chat shit ♡

[howi99]

On the last chapter, adam confronted Weiss about her identity and told her to go get new clothes so she could blend in more easily. Jaune, who still doesn't know who she is, is helping her in this endeavor.

"Bleiss": ... So, 7 sisters, uh?

Jaune: Yep. And most are older then me. It was a real pain in the ass.

"Bleiss": Gosh, and i thought i had it hard with my older sister and younger brother. *Sigh* ... So, what do you think of these clothes?

Jaune: ... You still choose a bunch of white and blue stuff. You know it doesn't really match your hair and eye color, right? Black and red would work, but you'd look like Adam human sister. Hm... What kind of vibe did you want again?

"Bleiss": Casual? Though i'm beginning to believe we don't have the same definition of the word.

Jaune: *crossing his arm* Your wardrobe is composed of mostly the same dress with varying degrees of blue and white. You never heard of jeans? Or a t-shirt?

"Bleiss": *blushing* Of course i did! But i never had to buy my own stuff myself you know?

Jaune: *looking in the sale bin* Speaking of, what's our budget?

"Bleiss": Around 500 Lien, why?

Jaune: *looking at her weirdly* ... Look at rich McCree over there.

"Bleiss": *rolling her eyes* I wasn't planning on using all of it on clothes!

Jaune: Suuuure. *Finding a nice pair of jeans with a hoodie* Try this, "Princess".

"Bleiss": Hey!

Jaune: *laughing* I'm just messing with you, how do you think my parents were able to sustain 8 kids? I tell you, it wasn't by being without Lien. Anyway, after that we could go get something to eat and-

"Bleiss": But i haven't seen any good restaurants!

Jaune: ... I was thinking of getting a burger, Bleiss. Gee, you never got some fast-food?

"Bleiss": ....

Jaune: ... You are kidding me.

"Bleiss": I was very sheltered, ok!?

_________

"Bleiss": *Devouring her burger* Oh gosh it's soo good! Damn what my nutritionist say, that's far better than chicken!

Jaune: *really surprised* Knowing you, i thought you'd have taken a fork to eat it.

"Bleiss": *realising she's been scarfing herself* O-oh gosh, i didn't mean to-

Jaune: Hey, it's fine. We are between friends anyway. And you are still better than my sister Saphron.

"Bleiss": Still! It's unbecoming of one such as i to-

Jaune: You are wearing a hoodie, Jeans and you let your hair down. You look exactly like the type of girl to come eat at her with a friend. Relax and just continue what you were doing, amma get a fries.

"Bleiss": You meant chips?

Jaune: ....

________

[lecl3rcw]

Recipe for disaster

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader, Arthur Leclerc x sister!reader

Warnings: Curse words, sibling insults.

Summary: Baking a cake with Leclerc 2, 3, & 4.

Authors note: I’ve seen so many siblings/friends on tiktok try this trend so this is my take on this trend but with our fav siblings.

————————————————————————

“Ughh change the dang channel Arthur” The girl groaned finally having enough of her older brother hogging the TV, “Get outta my face” he replies rolling his eyes pushing her away.

“You are so selfish! You’ve been hogging the TV since Enzo left, which was 4 hours ago” she says snatching the remote away from him which resulted in the boy getting up and trying to snatch it back. “Give it back Y/N!” He says reaching out to get it. She leans back her hand away from his, only for the remote to be grabbed by someone else.

“Gosh you two are unbearable” Charles says rolling his eyes shutting the TV off. The two younger ones looked at him in disgust, “Ugh I hate when Charles actually starts acting like an Older sibling” Y/N says, “I know right? It dosent suit him at all” Arthur says, the two teaming up against Charles all of of a sudden.

“Excuse me? You should be greatful I’m doing this, your brains are rotting and frankly I can’t stand hearing you argue one more time, so we’re gonna do something, as a family, that dosent involve the TV” he says, “Fine, what would you like to do Charles” The Girl says taking a seat on the couch, Arthur took a seat next to her. The two looked at each other in annoyance before moving away from each other.

“Well, we should try baking a cake” Charles says enthusiastically, “a cake? Charles no offense but you guys do not know how to bake” the girl says snickering only to recieve a smack on the back of her head. “Arthur, I’m gonna kill you” she says before lunging on him, “alright that’s enough, Arthur go sit on the chair” Charles says, “This isn’t over” he says squinting his eyes at the girl to which she reciprocated by sticking her tongue out.

“Anyways, we’re gonna bake a cake but one of us will be blinded, one of us will be deaf, and one of us will be mute” Charles said. “Respectfully, no Thankyou” Arthur says, “What why?” He asks him.

“I can’t stand Y/N when she’s fully capable of doing things, I don’t have that type of patience” he says getting up to walk to his room, Y/N scoffed “Bitch” she whispered under her breath, “Tur… I didn’t want to resort to this but if you don’t do this, I’m gonna tell Maman that you’re the one who broke her vase” Charles says, He gasps, “You wouldn’t” He says, “He might not, but for sure will” The Girl says giving him an evil smile, “Ugh fine” He says succumbing to the request against his own will.

While Arthur and Charles went to the store to get the stuff for the cake, Y/N took out all the utensils, bowls, and other stuff, she even made 3 chits to make it even on who gets to be what. About 30 minutes later, the brothers return and Y/N has changed into an old T-shirt that she doesn’t really care about. Alas, the siblings were ready to pick their chits and get started on the cake.

“Y/N you should pick last” Arthur says, “Don’t we all pick at the same time?” Charles asks, “She could have sabotaged it to get the one she wants” he says eyeing her suspiciously, “Arthur has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” She says shaking the bowl with chits, “No, because I’m not” He replies, she rolls her eyes before letting the boys before her pick their chits.

“We open it at the same time ok?” Charles says, When Y/N grabs hers, the three open it at the same time. “Hah! I get to listen to music while I do this” The Girl says happy she got the loud music option, “I cant talk” Charles says groaning, “You think that’s bad? I have to blindfolded! She cheated I demand a redo” Arthur says putting his paper back in the bowl, “It’s not my fault you’re such a sore loser” she says, “Guys it’s fine, let’s just get started on this cake” Charles says officially being done with his younger siblings.

Little did Charles know that baking this cake was the worst decision he could have ever made in his life. With Arthur not being able to see, Y/N not being able to hear, and him not being able to speak, this was for sure gonna be a distaster.

As Arthur grabbed the eggs, well as he attempted to grab it he struggled considering he couldn’t see, “Can someone give me the egg” He asked, “WHAT?” Y/N screamed not being able to hear anything, “Damn stop yelling” He says, Charles visibility rolling his eyes, that didn’t go unnoticed by the youngest Leclerc, “Can someone please Hand me the egg already” Arthur said. Charles handed the egg, Only for Arthur to completely miss the bowl, “Oh you dumbass” Y/N said slapping her hand on her forehead, “What? What happened” Arthur questioned, Charles pushed him out of the way.

“TUR YOU GOTTA STAY AWAY FROM HERE” The Girl says before grabbing a paper towel and cleaning the dropped egg. Little by little the siblings worked their way into making a heart shaped, vanilla flavored cake.

“Now this is the hard part, the decorating” the girl sighed, “hand me the icing” Arthur said, “ARTHUR SPEAK UP” she says, “I SAID HAND ME THE ICING” he says, matching her volume. “OHHH” as she was about to Charles stopped her, shaking his head no, she put the icing back down.

“Hello? Charles? Y/N?” He asks, “WE GOTTA WAIT FOR THE CAKE TO COOL DOWN” Y/N says, the siblings waited and waited, with a lot of ups and downs (Arthur making a mess, Y/N screaming and Charles being a victim) the siblings were finally done. They took of their headphones, blindfold, and cloth off. “Finally lord” Charles says, “This was your idea, and it was the dumbest idea ever” Arthur says rolling his eyes, “It was actually fun, I wish Enzo could be here too, I rarely get to see you guys nowadays” the girl says her mouth spilling all of her heart’s secrets.

“Aw Chérie” Charles says pulling the girl into a hug, Arthur joins in which suprised her a little, “I love all you guys so much” she says, “we love you too” they says unanimously. The 3 were so caught up in their moment they didn’t notice the oldest Leclerc sibling come enter the house and kitchen.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Enzo questioned.

“A cake? I learned it from culinary club at school”

“We need to get a refund for those classes”

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 3

Part 2

At the proposition, Steve and Robin shared a look during which an entire conversation was had.

It’s not a part of our plan. They’ve got numbers on us. They don’t seem like they’d leave us for dead. Especially if we joined. They’re the biggest threat on this trail. We can use them to get where we’re going.

“My sister and I are headed south”, Steve said. “Is your pack going that way?”

“We’re actually headed west”, a young man with curly hair said.

Steve and Robin shared a look again and the rogues around them were just as dumbfounded as the first time.

“Do you think this is normal for them?”, someone whispered.

“I know it’s not normal for me”, someone else muttered.

“We’ll go with you”, Robin answered, arms crossed. “But don’t expect us to be all cutthroat and deceptive and stuff.”

“Oh of course, not without introductions. Bandit Prince Eddie, at your service”, the alpha bowed. “My fellow rogues, Gareth, Jeffrey, Harold, I would trust them with my life.”

The three nodded their heads as their names were said. But they weren’t the only ones in the camp. Robin gestured to the rest milling about, going on as if there weren’t two newcomers to their den.

“And those guys?” They looked older. And significantly more rough than Eddie and his peers.

Eddie grinned. “Folks from my father’s old pack.”

“What happened to the Bandit King?”, Steve asked.

The man had been a scourge for decades both in the kingdom of Loch Nora and the kingdom of Forest Hills. His activity had calmed down somewhat in the past few years, but the legend was enough to keep travelers alert on the main roads, usually.

“My old man fell in love. And renounced his wicked ways.” Eddie gave Steve a meaningful look and for just a second, things seemed to stand still.

“We’re nearly ready to go”, one of the other members of the pack announced.

That was when the royal twins realized the activity going around the camp wasn’t just the pack moving about, they were packing up, getting ready to move. It made sense. One couldn’t be a roving band if they didn’t actually rove.

“Perfect”, Eddie said. “I want us in caravan formation.”

“You guys have formations?”, Robin questioned.

“Leading a pack takes strategy, whether you’re a leader of a household or of criminals.”

Steve and Robin rested on a large log for a few minutes while the last bits of camp were put away and then the whole group was off. Eddie walked towards the front of the pack. Robin and Steve walked alongside a horse-driven cart. Eddie talked with one of his friends, Jeff, but they couldn’t hear from where they were.

“Is this really a good idea?”, Robin asked.

“It is an idea”, Steve simply replied.

“Hey what was that back there?”, she suddenly changed the subject.

“Hm?”

“Don’t act coy, it looks stupid on you. You know what I mean. There was a moment where you and that Eddie guy-it was gross.”

“Oh grow up”, Steve rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a little romance? Aren’t we on an adventure?”

“Romance? With the prince of thieves? I should have never read those swashbuckling tales to you.”

“But you did”, Steve reminded her. “And now I can choose. So why not Eddie?”

Robin’s nose scrunched. “No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

“Please, you don’t know what it’s like. You basically had your choice of partners.” Everyone wanted the hand of the dashing alpha who would run day rule an entire kingdom. Compared to him, Robin left behind a veritable harem. Her betrothed hadn’t been chosen yet. Steve was the one who had been trapped.

They continued to walk until dusk, when they set up a temporary camp. The pack sat around the fire, winding down from a day’s travels, people forming their own little groups within it all. 

“Tomorrow some of us will head to town to get a few more supplies. After that, we’ll begin our journey in earnest. It’s time for the Corroded Coffin to find a new home!”

There were cheers and raised cups to that and even the prince and princess felt a little mirthful. They slept on bedrolls next to each other, it felt the beginning of a grand adventure indeed.

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

Eddie held the feed bucket up to the horse when Jeff came up to him. He knew the most pragmatic of their group approaching him could only mean a lecture, so he hoped to butter him up a bit.

“Jeffrey! The morning sun makes you glow like an angel from above~”

Jeff crossed his arms. “Why are you letting those two tag along? They were just supposed to be marks.”

Eddie knew that. Knew from their clothing that they came from money, or at least had it on them. It should have been nothing to overpower them and take whatever they wanted off the siblings. So why hadn’t they?

“I just think it’s a good idea to bring up our numbers. Can never have too many thieves”, he said, not meeting his friend’s gaze.

“And I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with one of them being a pretty omega?”

Eddie scoffed about three times before waving a hand and shaking his head. “Listen to you! Me! Getting all moon-eyed over someone I just met! That would be terribly ironic, would it not? Give me more credit, Jeff, please. I just think they would be great additions. And if I’m proven wrong, they can be just as good as scapegoats.”

“Riiiight.” Jeff leaned against the cart the horses were already attached to. “It wouldn’t just be ironic, you know. It would be stupidly hypocritical.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m not that flighty.”

“You’ve already taken flight once”, Jeff said before leaving Eddie to his feeding.

Once fed, Eddie decided it would be him, Gareth as well as their two newest recruits to go into town. “You both look the most reputable among us”, he had reasoned. “And I wanna see what you’re made of.”

The town was just over a small ridge and at this bright hour was bustling with activity. Eddie grinned as he found a mark. He leaned into Steve’s space. “Watch this”, he said before walking past a man, bumping shoulders briefly and walking off with his coin purse.

“The classic move. But Gareth here is a master at the art of misdirection”, Eddie said as Gareth got to work.

Steve and Robin watched Gareth when he walked up to a booth, distracting the merchant and seeming very interested in the fruit on one part of the booth while using his other hand to stuff nuts into a pouch at his side. In the end, Gareth traded a bit of coin for a few apples and the merchant was none the wiser.

“Alright, that was admittedly impressive”, Robin praised. “For common criminals”, she teased.

“Oh? You wanna show us how it’s done?”, Eddie smirked at the challenge.

Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist, much to his protest. What was she doing? They’d never stolen anything bigger than a pastry from the royal kitchens. And really was it stealing when it came from your own home?

“We can’t-”

“Yes we can, get out of your head. Besides, if you want to run with thieves, you’ve got to play the part”, she reminded him. “Just follow my lead.”

Robin’s eyes zeroed in on their target. An older gentleman, just by a few years it looked, was taking his time in choosing the proper produce between an orange carrot and a yellow one. Robin nudged Steve hard with her elbow and he rolled his eyes before going forward.

Neither Eddie nor Gareth could hear what he said, but it all came down to body language. The way the omega’s eyelashes fluttered, leaned over slightly, allowed his eyes to rake up and down the other man’s body, even putting his hand on his arm briefly. All while Robin tried to creep up from behind and reach into his pocket.

She was able to pull a handful of something, but flicked her wrist on the release too hard, making her presence known.

“Hey! What the hell!?”

Robin was frozen in her spot and Steve was the one to grab her arm and pull her through the crowd. Eddie and Gareth ran after as the man gave chase to reclaim what was stolen.

“You and your noodle hands! Do you undress a lover with those fingers!?”, Steve shouted as they raced away.

“These noodles fixed your wreck of a hair!”

They were able to turn a corner and lose him so that they could catch their breaths. Robin opened her hand to count their haul only to be met with a bunch of pebbles.

“What the fuck?”

The two practiced thieves cackled and nearly went to their knees. Tears in his eyes, Eddie stood up straight.

“You get points for effort. And Steve here gets a ribbon for his part.”

Robin rolled her eyes, about to retort that she played an equal part and it would have been a victorious haul had it been actual money when a fanfare of trumpets sounded. A crier began to shout as a crowd gathered.

Steve’s heart began to pound in his ears as only bits and pieces of the message were relayed to him and he felt the sensation of shackles around his ankles, or of sinking into mud, or being carried off by an undertow.

Prince Stephen, reported stolen, high reward…

Robin had to shake him out of his reverie. “Did you hear that?!”

“What? Yes. What?”

“Prince Edwin of Forest Hills is missing!”, she shouted to his face.

“What?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening. Where do you think he’s gone?” Then she whispered. “Do you think it was cold feet?”

“How do two royal siblings go missing?”, Eddie asked the wind. His face appeared a tad pale. “Stolen? With Loch Nora’s defenses?”

“One royal is one thing, but two?”, Gareth agreed.

“Technically three”, Robin held up three fingers that Steve quickly slapped down.

Thankfully, their odd energy went unnoticed within the general unease of the crowd. Prince Stephen, Princess Robin, and Prince Edwin were unaccounted for. Steve swallowed.

“We should go.”

“Agreed”, Eddie said.

They actually grabbed a few things before returning to the camp, where Gareth promptly announced the news of the royal siblings’ disappearance. There was a confused murmur among them when a beta stood forward. Steve recalled his name was Greenley.

“We’re all thinking it, right? A prince and a princess missing? With a high reward?”

Eddie shook his head. “No.”

Robin froze and Steve bit his lip. “I also think no”, he said.

“That money could have us set for life!”

“Between us, we could find a couple of royals.”

“We got underground contacts!”

“No! NO!!”, Eddie roared, regaining control of the conversation. “Look, I know it’s tempting. But can’t take that risk. They’re probably spreading the message which means every bounty hunter from here to the shore is looking for them. Dangerous folk.”

“We’re supposed to be dangerous folk”, Gareth pointed out. 

“If use two new ones get a vote, that’s three for no”, Robin pointed to herself, Steve, and Eddie.

Steve nodded. “So three to…”, he started to count in earnest.

“You’re still outvoted”, Greenley said. “And since this is a majority rule, not a monarchy”, he glared at Eddie challengingly.

“He’s right”, Jeff said.

Eddie sighed. “Shit….shit shit fuck shit shit fuck”, he started to pace around. “If this goes sideways-”

“We’ll be so rich things can go whatever direction they want”, Gareth said.

“Gre~at”, Robin gave a tight smile.

“Perfect”, Steve’s smile was equally strained.

Part 4

[lincolndjarin]

my sister lives in the attic.

main masterlist

joel miller x reader

warnings : angst, death, child loss, grieving, denial

a/n : i've never written something like this but i'm in a weird place and this idea has been following me for quite some time now so i decided to take a few minutes and write it, i'd love some feedback on it since this style is kinda new to me !!

He didn’t like to talk about his children. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” Was all he said.

That’s what he had told you on your first date. He was so abrupt about it that you didn’t ask about them again, instead opting to wait until he told you on his own terms. 

On your fifth date he told you that Ellie got in trouble for cursing in gym class that day. 

On your seventh date he told you Sarah was away at college, and that he missed her terribly and wished she would visit. 

On your eighth date he told you that Ellie made him a card for his birthday. He even brought it over to your house to show you. It was a drawing of the two of them floating through space. The inside said:

i love our family to the moon and back!

You didn’t ask why Sarah wasn’t included in the crayon family portrait. 

On your ninth date he showed you the photos in his wallet. A baby girl with her curly dark hair up in two little buns sitting in the sand. The one below it was a girl who looked to be about five, giving the camera a toothy grin, standing next to Joel in a courthouse, holding up her adoption papers. 

On your twelfth date he finally invited you over for dinner, you happily accepted. 

Joel introduced you to an extremely energetic seven year old. He gave you a tour of the house (only the first floor.) and you smiled at every family photo hung on the walls.

“I invited Sarah but she couldn’t make it, she’s got midterms but I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” He tells you before leaving you with Ellie, going to pick up a pizza for the three of you. 

Ellie tells you about school, about her best friend Riley, and about playing soccer in the backyard with her father. 

And then she says the strangest thing. 

“My sister lives in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” You had given her a confused smile but she carried on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“My sister, Sarah, lives in the attic.” She said it so plainly. Taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs, pointing up at a staircase on the second story that led to a singular door, pink paint peeling from it with little wooden letters spelling out SARAH, the sight of it put you on edge. 

“We shouldn’t go up there honey, let’s wait until your father gets back.” You had put up a bit of resistance but she ran ahead of you, you watched helplessly from the bottom of the stairs as Ellie pushed open the door and ran inside. 

“It’s okay, dad says I can talk to Sarah whenever I want as long as I don’t touch her stuff.” She had shouted, already inside. Despite every nerve in your body singing for you to go back downstairs and wait, you knew better than to leave a child alone so you climbed the steps and entered the room. 

Nothing strange, nothing frightening, no secret nightmare. 

When you look around all you see is a room, albeit a child's room but a room nonetheless. 

Ellie sits in a love seat, suddenly repeating everything she told you about her day to seemingly no one as she stares at Sarah’s bookshelf. You walk around, trying to recall when Joel said she left for college. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust but strangest of all this is clearly not a teenager's room. 

This is a childs room, for a girl about Ellie’s age. Every photo on her desk doesn’t show her older than what looks to be twelve. 

“Ellie, honey, when you said your sister lived in the atti-'' She doesn’t stop talking from behind you, ignoring you entirely but her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Dad keeps saying you’re coming home for Christmas but he also said you’d be home for his birthday, he keeps telling me how much we’re gonna get along but I just tell him we already get along fine.” 

It sends a chill up your spine, you aren’t superstitious but in a moment of weakness when you turn a part of you almost expects to see a ghost.

Of course that isn’t the case.  

When you look Ellie remains in the loveseat, seemingly the only thing that isn’t covered in dust up here. Her eyes trained on the highest shelf, when you follow her line of sight all of it starts to make sense. The shelf is covered in books and toys and trinkets, all of which are showing signs of age and disuse but the top shelf is neat and tidy, it even looks recently dusted. 

Only two things are on the top shelf. 

A beer bottle with the label ripped off, a lilac sits within it, a few stray petals lay in a halo around the makeshift vase. 

And a dark purple urn. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, unable to tear your eyes from it. 

“One time Uncle Tommy told me she was an angel.” She whispers when you stare in silence for far too long. “Dad got so mad we didn’t see Tommy for like a month after that and when we did see him again everything went back to normal.”

“What happened to her?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, she only shrugs in response.

“It was before I lived here, I never ask, I’m worried he’ll send me to live with Uncle Tommy if I do.” 

“Oh, honey.” You crouch down beside her, she hugs her knees to her chest. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m still not gonna ask. He doesn’t talk about her that much, only when someone else brings it up or if I ask to come up here to see her.” You nod slowly before holding your arms out to her, she wraps herself around you and you carry her to the door, eager to leave the tomb you’ve stumbled upon. “Bye Sarah.” She mumbled against your shoulder as you closed the door, the sentiment sent shivers down your spine. 

When Joel returns with the food it’s as if you never were in the attic at all.

Ellie runs to him, wrapping herself around his leg as he laughs, trying to kick her loose. 

When the three of you sit down for dinner she never says a thing to him about any of it. 

She asks if she can go to her friends house after dinner, their mom is going to take them to the arcade, Joel grins at you, asking if she was good while he was gone and you put on a smile, nodding. 

“Then you can go.” He ruffled her hair before she ran off to get her backpack. When it was just the two of you he took your hand, mentioning something about catching a movie while she’s gone, you nodded absentmindedly when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze you finally looked him in the eye. 

You’d never noticed it before but there is a permanent sorrow behind the dark expanse of his irises, as if he’s never really happy, he’s sometimes just less sad. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

You don’t bring up the attic at the dinner table.

Or in the car.

Or at the movies. 

He just needs time, you tell yourself. Maybe he’ll tell you on your thirteenth date, maybe it won’t be until your hundredth date. Until then you won’t tell him that you know who lives in the attic and you’ll nod with faux disappointment when he says that his eldest won’t be home for the holidays this year. 

And you’ll take extra care of him on days when he comes home with fresh lilacs.

a/n : yeah so uhhhhhhhhhh tell me how y'all liked this haha idk if i'll write anything like this again it was just sort of something for me to vent with, hope everyones having a good day and thank y'all for reading <3

[xetlynn]

Twilight- Unknowing: Chapter Four, Beast of the Inbetween

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[three] [four] [five]

Bella and I walk out of the house with Jacob behind us, him staying behind my sister.

"Whoever it was, he left his stink behind. It'll be hard to miss when we cross it again. We'll handle it from here." Jake boldly states.

"We don't need you to handle anything. Or anyone." Edward tells him, the werewolf steps toward him, attempting to get a reaction. Something he doesn't receive. "I could care less what you need." Jacob says.

"Alright we're done here." My sister's boyfriend announces. "No, you're done here." Jacob threatens him, Bella steps between them as I watch, amused of course.

"Stop, I'm tired of this. From now on, I'm Switzerland, okay?" She exclaims but it does nothing, the two get closer to one another.

"Stop!" Again, nothing. So this time I boredly tear them away from each other. Both stumbling.

"Listen to the girl you're both obsessed with, would you?" I give them dirty looks, confused with how stupid they're acting. "Thanks." She mutters.

"Mhm." I hum. "I don't expect you guys to chuck a football around together. Fine, but we have a lot of problems and this one is a temporary solution. Are you willing to at least try?" She explains herself and how they need to knock it off. Both of them stay quiet but then Edward nods, Jacob follows suit right after.

"Alright, so you need to coordinate. You know schedules and stuff." She tries to start off theconversation but they stay quiet. Bella looks over to me, defeated.

"What would the pack prefer, tantrum throwing toddler? Days or nights?" I place my hands on my hips. "Nights." Is all he answers with.

"Will days work for your family, angsty teen?" I turn to the guys who's supposedly going to be my future brother in law. He nods.

"See? How hard was that?" Bella asks them. She weakly smiles at me as I laugh to myself.

After getting away from that hot mess I finally got some relaxing time with my lovers, Alice and Jasper.

At our normal spot where we could be alone together in the woods. Both of them sat in front of me, Alice playing the grass as Jasper fidgeted with my hand.

"How come you two never told me that before you were vampires I was in love with you. Like deeply in love with both of you?" I question suddenly, it definitely being out of nowhere.

Both of them stayed silent at first so I went to apologize but Jasper's voice cut me off. "You had to figure it out on your own. Since you never mentioned it we didn't know how much you knew. What we could say and not say." He explained.

"We're sorry." Alice sincerely says but I shake my head. "Don't apologize." I take a deep breath in. "I just, I would like to hear your point of views on what I was like to you back then. I guess." I giggle softly, the three of us all adjust how we were sitting to be more comfortable.

"Since your first life was with me, I'll go first." Jasper grins, I watch as his dimples form and I smile back.

"Our families were close, when we got a little older they introduced us. Eventually we fell in love. You already know that though." He winks at me, I feel my face warm up but I nod for him to continue.

"You were my person, that's for sure. It was like we were conjoined at one point. You were devoted to the ones you loved. You were kind, you loved helping people, it just made me fall for you even more." I felt him stiff before he said his next sentence. "Then when I signed up for the war everything changed. You were angry, upset with me for doing it. You wanted me to be safe and at home with you and-" He pauses momentarily.

"And the baby you held in your stomach. Even though you were mad at me you wrote to me every day, until it stopped. The last letter I had gotten was that the baby was lively. Kicking a storm in your stomach. I wasn't even told if you were alive or not before I had turned." He closes his eyes, my hand grips his.

"I didn't know I was pregnant." I mumble, it was mainly me thinking out loud. But after it left my mouth Jasper looked right at me.

"You didn't know?" He repeats my question. "No, but it's okay. I feel like I remember it but it's far back in my memories." I explained, shrugging my shoulders. Alice took his hand into hers.

"Continue." I nudged him.

"Well after I turned I found out through Max, the wolf that imprinted on you. He somehow found me. Telling me that even though he imprinted on you nothing happened. You had no interest in him as he would've done anything for you. He explained that you were with soldiers that came through the village. Helping them with something out in the desert field." He tells the story and it brings me back to when I was bit by James.

When my memories flooded back and I was searching for Jasper. I had thought he was with the soldiers. Then havoc struck and some thieves or something came about. I was shot and that's all I remember. I didn't remember having a baby in my stomach though. But thinking about it now. It's all I seem to see in my head.

"I was shot in that desert." I cut him off. Alice and Jasper glanced up at me.

"That's the first memory I ever had from my past life the first time." I tell them.

"When I found out I snuck out from where Maria had us staying, being a newborn vampire it was difficult but I did it. I found the man that killed you. You don't understand the torture I put him through." Jasper painfully admits, I furrow my brows. I can tell he doesn't want me to know though.

"Let's talk about something else." He says.

"Well, since we were speaking about babies a little bit. I uh, I remember giving birth to a boy. You were all there, we seemed close but I wasn't in love with either one of you." I tell them, thinking back to how I was married and telling Rosalie and Alice the news in a bathroom or something.

"That was rough to sit and watch." Jasper looks down. Alice closes her eyes, nodding in agreement.

"You were engaged before we met you. You told us that we seemed familiar. Carlisle wasn't exactly happy for us staying in your life like we did. Neither was Rosalie particularly happy about it but when you got introduced to them it was as if you knew them too." Alice explains. I remember going to the market with just Rosalie, a memory sparking in my mind. How excited she was for me when I told her I was pregnant.

I remember telling the family they were aunts and uncles. How I thought of them as best friends, even family after knowing them for two-three years. They attended my wedding. The memories were little flashes. Like I was thinking about my childhood.

"Wasn't hard to watch me be in love with someone else?" I ask them. Jasper does a short nod, his face grimacing.

"You have no idea." He chuckles. "But you were happy and that's all that mattered to us." He kisses my hand, keeping it in his hold.

"It was more difficult after you gave birth. You passed from childbirth. We wanted to change you right then and there but that was a selfish thought. Even though beforehand you had told the nurses about your past lives. Whispering how you needed to see us." Alice's voice was soft, I can tell it was hard for both of them to remember these things.

I remember the childbirth, only getting to hold my baby for five minutes before it all went downhill. My husband's horrified face. It's weird being technically 17 and being older in past lives. Living through adult things and going back down to a teen. Who is now forever a teen, even in past lives I never made it past 22 years old.

"Your son was a sweetheart. We stayed to help your husband until your baby was 4. He found another woman. She was good to both of them. We kept tabs on them, making sure no one hurt either one of them." Alice smiles at the memory. I felt myself grin as well, grateful to know that they lived a good life. Something I don't think I ever really had.

"I would love to share my life with you but there's things that I don't want to talk about." Alice begins to talk, my eyes shift over to her form. She's been in her head this whole time and I can tell. I give her a small smile when she makes eye contact with me.

"That's alright, we have infinity together for you to be ready to talk about it." I remind her, pulling her into a kiss. I feel her hand grip onto my bicep.

I smirk, opening my eyes to look down at the hand. We gently push away from each other.

"You've been very handsy lately." I announce out loud, Jasper laughs. "What? I feel like I'm always handsy." She disagrees with me, I look over to Jasper who puts his hands up in defense.

"You're not going to have my back, Jasper?" She exclaims in shock, her hand still dragging down my arm.

We just stare at her, watching her get all flustered until finally she sighs out. "Okay, fine. Ever since you became a hybrid, your muscles are distracting." She avoids eye contact with me now, I tilt my head, smirking at this new found information.

"Oh, you like these muscles?" I pull the short sleeves up over my shoulders and flex both my arms. Showing them off to my partners.

Kissing at my biceps. She shoves me backwards playfully. "You're annoying." She groans, hiding her face in her hands.

"Mmm, I don't think I am." I get closer to her, purposely flexing my arms as I do so. I gently take her face in my hands and forcefully kiss her once again.

"Hey, I feel a little left out." Jasper quietly speaks up after a few moments. We stop to look at him, then look at each other before pouncing on him.

It of course comes to an end when I have to join Bella to the Rez so the rest can have their night to hunt.

At the edge of the forest I look at my lovers, Alice has a hair strand out of place that I know later Jasper and I are going to hear about and how we should've told her. I smile to myself.

I join Bella, Jacob and Edward in their weird divorce parent looking handover of their lover girl. Who is also my sister and I have to be a part of this weird bullshit.

"Doesn't he own a shirt?" Edward questions aloud.

"I'm good here, you should go." Bella tells the vampire, he pulls her closer. "I'm not going to be long." He whispers to her. I roll my eyes, looking away from the sight. "Don't rush. You need to hunt." Bella tells him.

He then grabs her into a long, nasty sounding kiss. I know it's to purposely piss off the wolf across from us. I chuckle to myself. He pulls away.

"Maybe you rush a little bit." My sister teasingly tells him.

She takes my hand and walks us over to Jacob. I look back at Edward and give him a thumbs up while making a "I'm proud of you" face.

Jacob pulls Bella into a hug having her let go of my hand.  "Hey, beautiful." Nice game, Jakey.

"Hi." Bella smiles.

Edward's car speeds down. "So, whaddaya wanna do today, Swans? Bike, hike, hang? Your call, but we're going to a party tonight." Jacob tells us, opening the door for us in his truck. Of course Bella gets in the middle.

"You sure this is okay? I really hate being a party crasher." Bella nervously looks around her as I am mentally freaking out. "Yeah dude, I definitely should not be here." I chime in.

"Technically, you're both council meeting crashers, see the council leaders, dad, quil's grandpa, sue clearwater. She took over for Harry when he died." Jacob informs us, completely ignoring what I said.

"Okay, we should not be here." Bella puts our steps to a halt. "You're okay. I thought, I mean they thought it would be good for you two to hear the histories." He points mainly to his dad who was already staring at us. "The histories? The tribe's histories? Aren't they secret?"

"We all got a role to play. And you're a part of this. [Name]'s a huge part of this. I mean, it's the first time Seth, Leah and Quil are hearing them, too. But you are the first outsider. Ever. [Name] is not much of an outsider." He glances at me and I press my lips together tightly.

"If I had have known that, I wouldn't believe you. And would've dressed better." Bella sighs, picking at her clothes.

"Jake." Seth, a boy I've sort of met before trots up to us like a little excited puppy. You can tell he idolizes Jacob.

"Hey, it's about time you got here. Paul's been hoovering the grub. But I saved you some burgers." Set tells him with a toothy grin.

"Good looking out, bro. Bella this is Seth Clearwater. Leah's brother. Newest member of the pack." Jacob introduces them.

"Newest, bestest, brightest." Seth gloats.

"And slowest." Jacob grabs the boy in a headlock, the two tumble to the sand. Seth laughs, I smile at the sight.

As kids when I came up here without Bella. He looked up to Jacob then too. Seth always wanted to play with us.

A whistler comes from the circle.

"Come on. Your dad's about to start." Seth says, slightly out of breath. "Alright." Jacob pats him. The boy looks at me with a certain expression. His eyes widen once he realizes who I am.

"[Name]." He mutters out and I give him a small nod.

"The Quileutes have been a small tribe from the beginning." Billy starts as we all sit around the fire.

"But we've always had magic in our blood." I look around at everyone's faces. Their attention wholly being on Billy.

Sam was an exception, his eyes laid on me. My upper lip twitched in realization. I shift in place, fixing my attention back to the commanding chief.

"We were great spirit warriors... shape shifters, that transform into the powerful wolf. This enabled us to scare off our enemies and protect our tribe." He explains.

"One day our warriors came across a creature.." His eyes then met mine and I wanted to shrink into a bug at that moment. "It looked like a man, but it was hard like stone and cold as ice." I shivered from the words, feeling the heat of the fire but thinking of my lover's cold feeling, especially from earlier.

I shook my head from the thoughts that erupted in my mind. "Our warrior's sharp teeth finally tore it apart but only fire would completely destroy it." I think back to when I was a wolf. The feeling of the sharp teeth in my mouth.

"They lived in fear, the Cold man was not alone. And they were right."

"She took her vengeance out on the village. Our elder chief. Taha Aki was the only spirit warrior left to save the tribe after his son was killed. But it wasn't only the beautiful thing that was angered. She had a beast with her. Once that was stuck in between worlds as both combined. She had been spying on the village pretending to be with the wolves. Turning into one the village believed they could trust her. She turned on them when the cold woman came to take her vengeance." Everyone's eyes glanced at me and I felt the heat of the fire engulf me.

"Taha Aki's wife could see that he would lose. "

"The third wife of Taha was no magical being, no special powers but one...Courage." Billy said in a powerful tone.

The third wife's sacrifice distracted the cold woman, and beast of the inbetween, long enough for Taha Aki to destroy them. She saved the tribe." I felt something on my neck, it was a quick sharp pain and then a hot burning sensation around my body.

I was shocked that they could easily kill the monster who I am now. I thought I was more invincible than I really am.

"Over time, our enemies have disappeared but one remains, the Cold Ones. The Beast of the Inbetween comes and goes. Sometimes an enemy. Other times...an ally." His eyes stare into me.

"Our magic awakens when they near. And we sense it now, we feel the threat in our blood. Something terrible is coming and we must all be ready. All of us."

Sorry for the late ass post. No excuses just had no energy to write lmao!!!

Masterlist

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[lynnbanks]

Elias Pettersson x Hughes reader maybe Jacks twin. They hid the relationship from Quinn because she is scared what he will say but we he finds out on him own it kinda goes to shit and they all start fighting with each other just to get to a happy ending

This whole thing started when Elias asked her to go to Sweden with him this summer. They had been dating for over half a year and he wanted to take her to get to know his family better and see where he grew up. The problem is none of her family was in on her relationship with him and she is scared they are too deep into the lie to say anything.

Y/n had first met Elias during Quinn's first NHL game. After the game, they all went to dinner to celebrate Quinn. On that trip, she and her parents went to check out one of the colleges she was thinking about attending.

The next time she saw Elias was when both her older brother and her twin brother played against each other for the first time. On that trip, nothing crazy happened. They shared a few more laughs than the last time but in Elias's eyes, she was still Quinn's little sister.

She got accepted into a good school in Vancouver close to her brother (idk anything about Vancouver or the schools) it was super hard for her to be so far from Jack and the rest of her family but he convinced her it was good for her “we are both living out our dreams you deserve to do what you want to do.”

It wasn't until December of last year did they start to act on their feelings. She had been around Quinn and his team a lot and they got along too. She was even friends with some of the wives and girlfriends. And if Quinn hadn't gotten super sick last December she probably wouldn't be in the situation she was.

She had stayed at the apartment he shared with Elias to take care of her poor big brother only to find out she had a lot of stuff in common with his roommate and she really enjoyed his company.

After that, they stayed up all night on the phone meeting up for coffee in the morning, sneaking out to go to the movies. They wanted to tell Quinn but if they did and he didn’t approve of it or he just became the third wheel all the time ruining his relationship with both.

They decided to just keep it between the two of them for a little and that turned into a lot longer than they thought. And now here she was stressed out and anxious. “Lias I have a bad feeling about this.” They are sitting on the couch at the lake house Quinn had invited Elias to stay with them for a little while to hang out on the lake. her on his lap while he plays with her hair. “ It's time baby we already waited too long. If we wait anymore it will just cause more trouble.”

Instead of answering she groaned and flopped into his chest “ they are going to be so mad.” And just like that Quinn walks through her front door with a brown bag probably full of food. “ I brought som- oh” he doesn’t say anything, just stairs as they separate “ hi Quinn what did you get!?” Act like nothing happened, she said to herself.

“ What were you two doing!?” He is still just staring and Elias speaks up “ Quinn it is long overdue that-“ “Don’t bullshit me what is this!” His voice got louder “How long has this been going on.”

Y/n is so nervous her voice shakes “ since December.” Her voice is small and her eyes welled with tears “ You have been fucking my little sister for seven months! Are you kidding me right now?” His voice is accusing

Elias stands to try and de-escalate the situation “Quinn it is more than that and we wanted to tell you but we didn’t because of this reason right here.” Quinn shook his head “don’t try to blame this on me. Does Jack know?” This broke the dam of tears she was holding “so you are just keeping secrets from your family now?” He turned to Elias “And you know exactly how I feel about teammates dating my sister.”

This is a rule all of her brothers have had for as long as she can remember and she knows that “ this is crazy. Did you really think you could just hide this for the rest of your life? What is Jack going to think when he finds out that you have been lying to us all?” When she doesn’t answer Elias sees her crying

“ I know that you are mad but you don’t get to talk to her like that.” Quinn shook his head before turning to leave he said “This is bullshit and nothing like y/n or you Elias you were one of my best friends.” And that stung both of them.

Before Quinn can leave Jack comes in “Hey what is going on in here?” he looks confused and then concerned when he sees Y/n crying “She is keeping secrets and lying to us all.” Quinn says in a voice that she could only describe as disappointed

“ What is he talking about?” He directs his eyes to his twin, forcing her to come out and say it all “Me and Elias have been seeing each other since December… and he wants me to go to Sweden for a few weeks.” Jack looks very taken aback “What?”

“She has been fucking my teammate and lying about it.” Quinn snapped “She is not just a fuck mate Quinn stop talking about her like that.” Elias says now getting frustrated himself “Why didn't you tell us? Or me I'm your twin that's what we do” y/n shook her head “ I just wanted to be something other than you guys' little sister and Elias gave me that and he treats me really good ok?”

She wipes the tear from her face and takes a deep breath. “ I'm sorry I didn't tell you I really am but I wanted something for myself and I'm not a little girl anymore and I'm tired of you treating me like one.”

Jack is looking at her and Quinn is looking at the ground.

“ if he treats you right and you want to be with him so be it it's just that you didn't tell any of us and it is a shock that's all,” Jack says always so forgiving of his twin Quinn on the other hand not so much “ if you two want to date fine. just not in my house.” before leaving the room for good this time.

Y/n doesn't know what to say Jack takes notice of his sister's shock and Elias's sad features before saying “Hey don't take that to heart he is adjusting.”

Y/n stands to hug her brother “Thank you for understanding. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Jack rubs her back reassuring her “If he makes you happy then I'm happy. And I am sure he will come around, just give him some time and enjoy your vacation.”

They had been gone for three weeks and she tried her best but the thought of her having to choose between Quinn or Elias if she ever wanted to speak to him again was weighing her down. Elias took notice of his girlfriend's mood and decided to do something about it. When she got back to the room that night she saw her suitcase out and being packed “What is this Elias?” he came from the closet with some more of her clothes “You are going home.”

Her heart dropped “What are you talking about Lias I thought we were leaving next week?” he stopped what he was doing with his head hung low “ I can't do this with you anymore okay? we have to end it.”

The pain in her chest moved all over her body “No we don't why are you saying that?” she moved to pull her clothes out of her suitcase, tears falling as she did.

“Stop.” Elias took her wrist holding them to his chest. “ I won't make you choose and I am not going to be the reason you don't have a relationship with your brother.” his voice is thick he is trying not to cry just as hard as she is crying “Don't do this, I love you, Elias.” he pulled her to his chest

“ I love you too, that is why we have to stop. You have a red-eye flight to Michigan in two hours. It's nonrefundable, you are getting on that plane. There are no exceptions.” his voice left no room for argument but she did anyway all the way to her gate where he left her with a kiss on the head and a small “I love you”

Jack found her the next afternoon when Elias asked if she had gotten home safe. She was sobbing into her pillow in her childhood bedroom “What happened?” Jack said in a way you would think he is talking to a baby “ he broke up with me and sent me home.” Maybe it was because she was crying like a baby. “Why would he do that you said you guys were having fun?”

“ He said he wasn't going to make me choose so he chose for me.” Jack's heart broke for his twin “I tried to fight him on it but he sent me home.” she was shaking with anger and sadness “I'm sorry this is happening to you. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” she pulled the blanket up for him to slip in with her “Will you stay with me till I fall asleep?” “ Of course.” and he did just that.

As soon as she was out he went to find his older brother walking straight up to him “You better fix this right now!” Quinn looked at him confused “ I don't remember breaking anything what are you talking about?” Quinn said getting annoyed “Our little sister just cried so hard I thought she would cough up a lung and it is your fault.”

Quinn is still a little lost “y/n? I thought she was in Sweden.” Jack shook his head, getting more frustrated “No she is sleeping after sobbing herself to sleep because her boyfriend dumped her and put her on a plane because he didn't want her to have to choose a brother over dating him.” Quinn had a look of realization “Yeah you did that you need to fix it. Him separating himself so that you will talk to your little sister says all that needs to be said now get your head out of your ass and do something about it.”

Quinn knocked on y/n door 15 minutes later “Go away please.” she sounded so defeated so instead of listening to her he let himself in “Oh god what do you want?” “I want to know what happened.” y/n rolled her eyes “Why so you can throw a fit and ignore me for a month no thank you.” she rolled over facing the wall

“ no, because I want to know if I need to beat him up or not,” he said half joking but she did not find it funny at all “No Quinn if anything you should be beating yourself up because he is a good friend and he didn't want me to not have my big brother that is why he dumped me and shipped me off to Michigan.” the thought of it made her cry again “ you know what happened now please just leave me alone.”

Quinn didn't say anything else; he just walked away to make a call. “ hello?” Quinn took a deep breath “Did you really break up with her because of me?” it was a stupid question he just needed to hear the answer “Yes Quinn is that all?” Elias was already going through a breakup that he didn't want and he did not feel like fighting his ex-best friend

“ listen Elias I'm sorry for my reaction that was a dick move on my part I was blindsided by the whole thing you are my best friend and it was weird for me to see you with my sister but the way I am seeing her now I would much rather be uncomfortable then for her to be heartbroken.”

Taking a deep breath “When can you get here?”

17 hours later

Y/n just finished getting dressed after Jack had forced her to shower. She honestly didn't have the energy to fight him. When she walked to her room she was met with Elias sitting on her bed stopping her in her tracks “ Lias what are you doing here?” She wanted to hug him but she wasn't sure if that was allowed. “ Quinn called me and said he wanted to say sorry in person.” after that Quinn walked in motioning for her to sit she did

“ I just wanted to apologize for the way I handled this whole situation. It was wrong of me to lash out at you. I love you both and I know you are both good people so I will respect it if you two make each other happy. Who am I to judge?”

Y/n looked at Elias for a split second before turning back to Quinn “ I'm sorry we lied to you that was not fair of us to keep a secret like that.” Elias spoke up “ I am sorry for lying but I won't apologize for loving your sister. She makes me really happy and I want to be with her.” turning to look at y/n when he said the last part “And if she will have me I would like to continue dating her.” Quickly looking at Quinn to see his reaction Quinn just smiled and shrugged

She pulled Elias into a bone-crushing hug “I Would love to be your girlfriend Elias

Not my best work. Time for me to get some shut-eye 💋💋

[changingplumbob]

Glenn locked the door behind him and Ophelia. Although why he was doing that when the lot was shielded, and even a low ranking spellcaster could break locks, he had no idea. Glenn walked to the opposite house. In there should be Phoebus, Miranda, Gillian and Pockets. As he approached he glanced through the window and saw that Miranda was in her usual spot in front of a device. The 25 year old witch understood technology better than anyone else he knew. Taking a deep breath he knocked on the door and entered as Miranda yelled out that it was open.

Glenn: Hey Miranda, is Phoebus in

Miranda: He's busy in the kitchen Glenn, not to be disturbed

Glenn: Did he actually say that

Miranda: Dude is way old, of course he phrased it like that

Glenn: How old is he

Miranda: I don't know... but I do know it's rude to ask anyone older than a century their age. I don't know why, like getting old is an achievement, especially for us

Glenn: So... what are you doing

Miranda: Monitoring the message boards. I need to make sure no fans were following you to or from the hotel

Glenn: You're not serious. And I'm pretty sure I have no fans apart from myself and the watcher

Miranda sighed and leaned back in her chair. She conjured a small lightning ball in her hands and casually tossed it back and forwards like one might do with a stress ball.

Miranda: Man you must be messed up if you're not singing your own praises like normal. Howard says you're confident and you seemed it when we met. Anyway, the security here needs to be tight Glenn. We have enough problems with the parliament without you leading any hunters to our doorstep

Glenn: The humans outlawed hunting Miranda

Miranda: Oh they've outlawed a lot of stuff that still happens

The lightning ball disappeared and Miranda stretched her neck before moving back to her keyboard.

Miranda: Don't worry the coast seems clear

Gillian: GLENN

Glenn: Aren't you a cat

Gillian: No silly, I'm me now. Miranda did you see Glenn is back

Miranda: This guy standing next to me? Nah, I was oblivious. He's super subtle

Gillian: *laughing* Be nice. You're meant to be a role model for me

Miranda: Welcome home Glenn. May I get you some tea and... crumpets?

Glenn: Ah... you said Phoebus is in the kitchen

Miranda: Fiddlesticks, I forgot that. Can I get you some imaginary tea and crumpets?

Gillian: Miranda Miranda, how did you go while I was busy? Any progress?

Glenn: Dare I ask

Miranda: It's no problem. I've always understood electricity and computers so my pet project is trying to-

Gillian: She wants to make a computer without a computer

Miranda: Don't interrupt people unless there's like an emergency

Gillian: Sorry Miranda but it's exciting

Glenn: I don't really get computers

The look Miranda gave Glenn in response was one of complete pity.

Miranda: Basically I'd like to conjure an interface that can connect to others but it's a long way off. I'm only just starting. I need to train with Harmony a lot, and probably Koko-

Gillian: And Carmine and Drusilla if you're unlucky

Miranda: Hey miss, don't be rude or I'll tell Phoebus

Gillian: *sighs* Tattletale

Glenn: You can go easy on her can't you

Miranda: It is the role of unofficial sisters to be harsh. She's got a lot to learn and she can't learn if we don't correct her

Gillian: It's okay Glenn. I know she just wants me to be good. That's why she got me the new Amiyah album when I did the dishes for a whole week

Glenn: Who

Miranda: *sighs* You are so out of the loop of pop culture

Glenn: Yeah well out in the wilderness the bears don't care how many stars a person has

Previous ... Next

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I don’t know why, but I feel like it’d be really cute if Tangerine and Lemon have a little sister who has a completely normal job, like she’s a Kindergarten teacher, and Ladybug meets her when he shows up at Tan and Lemon’s safe house with them after the train fiasco. He starts talking to her about all the assassin stuff (he assumes she’s in the game too) and her older brothers are like, “Whoa whoa Mate, you can’t talk to her about that stuff, she’s not in the game, she’s a teacher, BACK OFF” lol

once again I don’t know a name for this.. 😭

Tangerine and lemon looked at each other, they didn’t know this guy too well. They didn’t know if they trusted him to much to be near you, and this was only the third job they’ve done together. After the train incident, they were paired up sometimes.

They worked well together, surprisingly.

“So where are we going now?” Ladybug asked.

“Our sisters house.” They said plainly.

“You guys have a sister?!”

“Yes, and if you say one word to her I swear to god-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

They knocked on your door, they knew you’d be here.

You opened it, with your dog trying to leave too. “Get back, get back, Loki!” You pushed him back and looked at them.

You smiled widely, and told them to come in. You didn’t even noticed the man behind.

“Oh, hello. Your name is..?”

“Ladybug. Well it’s my code name but- if you want my real name it’s-“

“It’s alright, I’ll call you ladybug. It’s cute.” You laughed. Tangerine rolled his eyes and glanced down at his feet as your dog ran into his leg repeatedly.

“Can I get you anything?”

“A cuppa, thanks.” Tangerine said.

“Me too please.” Lemon said.

“Can I just have some water please?” Ladybug said. He didn’t quite understand what they meant by a “cuppa” he guessed it was some British thing.

“Of course.” You said, smiling.

You gave them what they asked for and let them do their own thing as you went in your room for a little.

“Hey, (Your name), Can we get a pen?” You heard Lemon yell.

You sighed quietly, and looked around. You found a pen and grabbed it and got up.

“Here you go.” You gave it to him.

“Thanks.”

“So what you guys doing?” You sat down on a chair next to them.

“Jus’ debriefing.”

“Yeah. You know, it was a super long mission. I’m not used to this stuff I’m still used it snatch and grab jobs, I’m not used to seeing all the blood and guns and stuff. I don’t understand how you guys do it. But I’m sure you understand, I mean you are an assassin, right?”

Tangerine put a hand over his mouth, staring him dead in the eye.

“No, Im not an assassin. I actually am a local cafe owner. It’s down the street.” You said.

“Sorry about him, he talks to much and he won’t speak AGAIN, isn’t that right?” Tangerine said and turned back to him.

“Right, right, sorry. I would love to go tomorrow, maybe I’ll visit your cafe-“

“Wait, you guys are staying?”

Tangerine sighed again and shook his head.

“Look, (your name) we just need a place to stay for a night or two and we’re gone-“

“No, no! Please, stay as long as you need. I missed you guys.”

Lemon smiled “Aww I missed you too.”

You smiled back at him.

“Thank you. Goodnight.” Tangerine said.

“Goodnight.” You told them, and ran off back into your room.

“Thank you.” Tangerine gave you a small smile.

“And if you guys need anything else, let me know!” You said , and ran back to your room.

[sasagehoes]

THE NECROMANCER

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈 ;𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱;; The fruits of necromancy start taking roots inside of you, and your older sister's warnings didn't prepare you for the horrors that were to come.

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previous chapter ~ next chapter

CW; This series contains a LOT of sensitive topics. Just like the show, there will be individual warnings for each chapter, I'm not responsible for what you read.

graphic depictions of blood and gore/ canon typical violence / assault/ murder/lots of change in POV/ war/ assault and rape/ mentions of purity culture and virginity / arranged marriage/ typical game of thrones warnings.

3.6k words

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

As soon as the boat arrived with her on board, everyone went crazy. It wasn't that big of a deal, I was planning on rejecting the proposal,

why would I marry a complete stranger?

I knew they would make me go receive her and her family, so I hid until they left, I knew my mother would reprimand me, but as much as I could avoid her, the better.

I came down from my hiding spot to see my older sister, Sansa, standing there with her arms over her chest. I was clearly mad, I tried to run, but she caught up to me

"Don't you know just how in trouble you are right now," she said, pulling my ear slightly to not injure me, but enough that it would hurt

"Let me go!" I said."Stop whining! mom's gonna give you an earful"

As we entered the mess hall, i could see my mother standing with a displeased face, looking directly at me

"Why do you not want to see her, Bran?"

My mother said, annoyed. I just ignored her and looked to the side

"Answer me, Brandon," she repeated herself, this time mad.

"Why would I marry someone I've never met!" I snapped, now standing up

"You think she chose to get married, chose to be sent away from her family to come into this one?" She replied hastily looking into my eyes.

I stopped, and I never thought about her situation, I knew my sisters would have the same fate. Yet I still couldn't stomach the thought of being with a complete stranger for the rest of my life.

"...no, I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed, looking at my mother

"When she gets here, treat her nicely, you don't have to like her immediately.. you'll have time to learn how to love and cherish her."

With that, she left, leaving me there pondering on how my life would be with a stranger.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The harsh cold wind was unfamiliar to me. My fingers felt like falling off. I couldn't imagine how it would feel once winter came.

The Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, got off his horse and came up to us. He looked around, clearly expecting more people

"I thought Lord Caius would come to send you off, I guess I was mistaken," he said sincerely

at the mention of my father's name, my eyes went wide, coming out of my trance. My sister noticed and grabbed my hand firmly.

"My apologies, Lord Stark, some..commotion has started in our land, both our parents had to stay to re ensure the safety of our people."

He nodded, "No worries, I understand. You'll be taken care of here, until your leave." he said.

Robb, the oldest, helped to mount my stuff on the horses. I smiled at him, muttering a small 'thank you'

The man I've learned to address as Theon tried to start small talk once in the horses,

"Bravoos is a beautiful place from what my friends say," he started

"I suppose it does have its own flare,"

I say out of it, just mentions of Bravoos made my stomach churn.

not wanting to seem rude, i forced the conversation to continue

"Winterfell is even more beautiful than what I had imagined. You must feel proud of being born here, my Lord," I say, looking at him, his eyes drop for a second too long.

"I'd have to agree with you, my Lady, it is indeed a beautiful place, yet I'm not form here, I'm form the Iron Islands, a Greyjoy"

"Oh, well, it must've been hard getting used to the weather," I say, mustering up a dry chuckle. He nodded and was about to continue till Robb told him something, and he stayed by his side until we arrived.

It seemed my betrothed was nowhere to be seen.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

Once you arrived at Castle Ward, you couldn't believe your eyes..it was beautiful, a sense of comfort and warmth that radiated from it.

All of the remaining family that didn't go out to receive you and your sister were all lined up, two girls, two boys, and a woman.

As all of you approached them, you heard whispers in the crowd

'She's to marry the little lord?'

'Isn't she a doll'

'so beautiful'

'Bravoosi ey?'

you payed them no mind as you plastered a small smile on your lips and bowed to the family, waiting to be risen you looked up briefly, and the boy, who seemed your age was already looking at you, as soon as the two of your eyes met, they disconnected.

So that was to be your husband, your salvation.

"Rise child," Lady Catelyn said sweetly, and so you did. Looking at her in the eye, you smiled. "Pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady." you say.

"Likewise, you are more beautiful than what the books described... So glad you could make it safely,"

"This is Sansa and Arya, my only daughters, and I've seen you've met Robb, my first born already, we'll this is Rickon, the youngest and Bran, you're betrothed" she continued, pointing at each one of the children as she named them.

"Pleasure to meet you all, I hope we can get along." Your eyes met Bran's as you finished. He avoided them as soon as he saw you.

"I can't wait for us to be sisters," Sansa exclaimed in her place as she went up to you to pull your hand. "Would you like to see your room?" she asked hands, holding yours. You nodded, and she took off running with you in tow.

"Careful not to fall!" Catelyn yelled at the both of you.

Ophelia looked at Brandon and walked up to him.

"I trust you'll take care of her, My Lord?"

she said to him, a trail of worries behind her words.

"I promise, she won't be sad as long as she's with me" Brandon replied, with a smile looking up at her, she nodded and bowed slightly l, mouthing a small 'thank you'

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The food was wonderful, the smell of wine was everywhere in the dining room, and people danced and sang, up until Lord Stark stood up and held his cup of wine and hit it with his spoon

"Today, we celebrate the soon to be union between House Stark and House Corvus!" he said loudly, everyone followed suit, cheering and clapping rather obnoxiously.

Your face was dull and expressionless, staring off into the abyss that were the walls. You couldn't escape it.

You heard her everywhere, like a taunting reminder that you got a better chance that she could've ever gotten, you hated yourself, even if it wasn't your fault.

a hand on your shoulder helped you out of the trance, Arya. If you remember,

"Want to spar outside? If you don't know.. I can teach you!"

You smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time in weeks and nodded, running off with Arya outside.

..

"Grab one!" she said to me, throwing me a wooden sword that was left on the floor. I caught it after it almost escaped my hold, Arya giggled, "Just you wait," I told her jokingly, making her get into a stance, a bad one, and so did I.

We sparred for almost an hour when their Septa walked out of the mess hall and froze in her steps

"Arya Stark!" she yelled in disbelief

"Oh no.." Arya sighed

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" the septa said as she dragged Arya by the arm

"Im not a lady," Arya bickered

"Your father is a lord, making you. a lady, now get inside!" the old woman said, annoyed, clearly having dealt with this more times that she could count. Once Arya made it inside, and after she flashed you a smile, the septa came up to me

"My Lady, please don't humor her, I hope i won't have to deal with the both of you from now on," she voiced out as nicely as she could

"I promise i won't become a problem." My eyes squinted as I smiled at her.

Pleased with my answer, she bowed slighly and left.

'maybe this wouldn't be so bad' I thought as I gazed at my surroundings, the tall grey walls of the castle were mesmerizing, although the castle back home was more lively and more colourful, on the inside it was dull and bleak, now even more so, with everything currently going on.

"Lost on your thoughts again, little lady?" a man whom i've never met said to me almost invading my personal space."Please don't call me that sir, " I say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

He got closer. "Your father sent me," he said, and my eyes went wide, I opened my mouth to scream, but he covered it "Scream and you'll end up like Leiana, understood?" He asked, I nodded as tears escaped my eyes,

"Your brother ever told you what I did to the little whore?" He continued now moving to the stables, I couldn't breathe, "Answer me!" he screamed.

"NO, no he didn't please let me go, I won't say anything!" My words were rushed, I didn't want to end up like that, broken and destroyed.

He threw me down on the hay that adorned the floor of the empty stable, my cries were drowned by the music that played in the mess hall and the cheers.

"Oh, I'll let you go, just after im done with you," he said, standing up, undoing his belt.

As I tried to scream once more, trying to get anyone to listen to my cries, a sword pushed through the back of the man, blood falling on my skin.. I froze.

"Are you alright?! Did he touch you?!" The man with dark shoulder-length hair said, picking me up, the sword now thrown on the floor.

I hugged him tightly "Thankyou, thank you!" I sobbed trembling.

"What happened?!" I heard Ophelia yell from the doors of the mess hall, once she saw my sobbing figure and the man dead on the floor, she ran to me.

"Please tell me he didn't touch you," She said now on her knees in front of me, holding my face. Her voice was shaking, I shaked my head.

"He asked if Amadeus had told me what he did to Leiana." I tell her as much as my hiccups would let me. Her eyes went dark for a moment.

"Those bastards!" She yelled

The music had stopped, and people were coming outside, Lord Stark came out worried, and once he saw the scene, he hurried to ask what had taken place.

Once everyone calmed down and explained what had happened, I saw Brandon looking at me with worried eyes from afar. He came up to me and offered his coat and left, not knowing what to say. After that, everything was a blurry mess.

When I woke up, a sleeping Ophelia was at my side sitting on a chair. Feeling a shift in the bed, she woke up. "Are you alright, my dear?" She asked me worried, I nodded

"I'm leaving today sister..I can't delay my trip to house Reed" she spoke, my eyes went wide

"What if another one comes after me or worse you!" I exclaim

"I'll be protected by some guards, and so will you, Lord Stark was very understanding"

I sat up abruptly "You told him?!"

"No! Not the whole truth.. I have to be careful"

I relaxed, it wasn't safe for anyone to know as of now, anyone could betray us. Anyone.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

You hugged your sister tightly as she bid farewell to everyone, not knowing if this would be the last time you two would see each other

"We'll meet again" she said caressing your hair

"Once snow comes"

"Blood shall fall"

This would be the last time you heard of Ophelia..alive.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The days went on rather banal, nothing new, taking sewing and embroidery lessons with Sansa and sneaking off to play with Arya in the courtyard once you got bored.

Everytime you went to talk to Brandon he was dry and cold, sometimes just flat out ignoring you.

you couldn't care less, most royal marriages were only for one thing - unions.

or that's what you told yourself.

One particular day, you noticed you were feeling rather drained, not having done many physical activities you felt worried,

Apparently someone noticed and left you a snack with a note that said 'rest, you look tired', with an apple next to it.

You asked around thinking it was either of the sisters but none knew what you were talking about so you just left it at that.

At around noon, you where playing with Arya on top of some tables, pretending to be knights, when a puncturing pain burst in your lower abdomen making you almost fall off. Arya, worried, dropped her stick and went to you thinking she had hurt you

"Are you okay??" she said panicking "Yes I'm alright just an old bruise I suppose"

you knew it wasn't a bruise, you knew what this pain entailed. You were petrified. this was only the begging.

your sister, Leiana, had explained what happened go the woman in the family once their first blood takes fruition, it's not only blood and pain, it the nightmares of death that plague you, and the smell of blood everywhere. it was too early you thought..way too early.

One morning you woke with the pain gone but a slick feeling in your thighs, you uncovered yourself and saw the crimson red stain that now adorned the bed sheets.

Although you wanted to think you were saved, Leiana also had gotten it, yet that didn't stop them. Nothing stops them

"You know what this entails right my dear" Lady Stark asked you, as you told her what was happening. you nodded slightly, she smiled.

"Don't worry, I know other houses make the girls marry as soon as there first blood occurs, but not here, neither of you are ready so don't fret, your still a child, I couldn't do that to you" she said empathicly. you just nodded and thanked her, and as she left you could only smell blood, it irked you, you felt disgusting.

Sansa was next to you at dinner talking about how wonderfull this was, you could have children now, give birth to little lords and ladies, which made Brandon's cheeks dust a light pink. You giggled, but there was a part of you that felt a nauseating feeling at the pit of your stomach.

If you had a girl would she deal with the same thing your sister did? Would she be chased down the streets and tainted by the men who swore to protect her?

No. you'd make sure she'll never go through that horrible, thing you'll make sure. Even if it's the last thing you do.

The following day you could barely walk, the pain was getting worse and Maester Luwin said ot was normal. saying it was because you had gotten it sooner than it should.

If only.

As you were walking with Sansa trying to withstand the cramping pain, talking about how you two would want both your futures to play out, the pain got worse, in an instant it felt like soemone took a blow to your lower stomach, making you bend over and groaning in pain. Sansa noticed and went to your aid, but before you could say anything everything went black.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

You opened your eyes and the bright light blinded you briefly, your head throbbed as the distant noise got closer.

You weren't quite sure where you were, but it wasn't Winterfell. It was red, everything, the snow was crimson red, the dew falling off the trees was red everything was red. You looked at yourself in the nearby bloodied river.

it wasn't you.

you felt around the face that was reflected on the river, it wasn't yours yet you could feel it, it was c aked in blood as well as the hair that came with it.

before panicking you remembered your sister's words;

"apart from the normal symptoms, you'll be ridden with nightmares for days might even be weeks"

You felt and indescribable hunger and as you saw the crimson snow it became appealing - appetizing even.

you took a handful of it and ate it, and then another, and another until your hunger was satiated.

everything went black for a while and when you awoke, you still weren't in Winterfell, but in the palace of Corvus. Castle Ravenna.

It wasn't you, you had to remind yourself before any panic would settle in your bones.

It all looked so different, The sigil on the banners was the old one, the walls were relatively new, even the throne looked more polished

this was clearly long before you had been born, who's body you were inhibiting, you didnt know, but it felt... different than in the snow earlier, the blood on your veins wamer, and faster.

"Amelia! are you listening?" the voice of a man said

Amelia? if the stories the women in blood told your sister were true, she was the first necromancer of house corvus.

"Yes dear?" you answered, the voice not your own.

"What have you been doing in the outskirts of the city, I've told you a hunded times. do not." he kept going

"The snow, i helped get rid of the red snow"

You didn't know how you knew what to say. You just did. It was automatic.

"We can't keep escaping from our marital duties.. we need to produce an heir"

Your stomach churned at the thought.

The blackout ensued again, yet this time you were in the garden, your hand was bleeding profusely, and a white rabbit squirmed on the floor, its head was detached.

You wouldn't move, couldn't, it felt as in a second your body was still and then you were looking through the rabbits eyes.

You've heard of wargs, yet they manipulated live animals.. not the dead.. as you snapped out of it, you gasped and quickly jid the beheaded rabbit in a bush, washing the wounded hand on the fountain.

The night you finally consummated your marriage with your husband, he was gentle, truly, he was, but we both longed for someone else. We didn't belong to the other, yet our destinies were written long before our conception.

Another black out. Gods, did you hate them by now.

You held your first born in your arms, a beautiful baby girl, eyes like the forest and caramel skin. She cooed at you and you smiled.

Her father seemed mad, only came in the room to corroborate the gender of the child and left.

Your nightmares showed the many children you or better said, Amelia, had through out the years. Five boy and five girls, only two made with love, the other out of necessity.

The last one was the most brutal of them all

Your body was now old and wrinkly as you could only stare in shock as the torture that was inflicted on your daughters was laughed at, and sang about, the remaining two sat on the table ridden in fear that they would wake up with a man in their chambers, putting the through hell, and you couldn't do anything.

Their daughters' daughters would go through this hell, and their daughters after that. Amelia couldn't bear it. You could feel it in her veins. She mustered any bit of energy left in her old bones and killed the man whom she had married all those years ago

The man who let men do whatever they pleased with your daughters for the sake of the kingdom. It was her last straw.

"You stand here accused of practicing the dark arts, and the worst crime..regicide, how do you plead?" The man asked loud for the whole city to hear

I stayed silent.

"Any last words then?" He asked

I looked up and said:

"My daughters will not be able to use their gifts, but be worry of the ones to come, one will be born so fierce, she'll fear no man, as no man will come to harm her, the loss of her sisters will only strengthen her, and the downfall of the tyrants of Bravoos will come"

The daughters cried as they were held by the perpetrators as your neck was sliced from ear to ear. Everything went black for the last time.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

When you finally woke up, it was in a cold sweat, pawing at your neck with one hand. You looked hastily at your surroundings and saw a sleeping Bran at your bedside, a hand holding yours. Your heartbeat slowed a little, and you smiled

"Brandon, wake up," you say softly, shaking him

He woke up slowly, eyes groggy, but when he laid his eyes on your figure, his eye widened, and he jumped to hug you. "I thought you wouldn't wake up," he said distraught

You hugged him back and said, "Didn't know you missed me," grinning.

He glared at you playfully "Maybe..maybe not, are you okay? you were gone for days, mumbling things in your sleep.. you had me worried, " he said the blush in his cheeks eminent.

You couldn't stop the giggles that exited your mouth. After being cold and distant for so long, who could've thought he would be so concerned for your well being.

"Don't laugh." he added as he tried to storm out the room, but your hand pulling his stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," you say in between laughs. He furrowed his brows and quickly kissed your cheek, making you shut up. your brain malfunctioned, and you just stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks red.

Before you could say anything, he bolted out the door, yelling, "She woke up!"

And you just stared at the door in disbelief.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ Thank you so much for getting this far, can't wait to continue this series!! If you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know ♥︎

(っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

taglist: @etyaty @tcapter

DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!!

This belongs to;;

-SASAGEHOES

[kimi-level-of-idgaf]

We’d make a cute one of these - Trevor Zegras

trevor zegras x fem!reader

My older sister had asked if I was able to watch her one year old daughter while her and her husband went on a date night.I had immediately said yes as I love my niece and jump at every chance to see her. 

“TREVOR!!” I yell from the couch. 

“What’s up babe?” Trev says as he walks out of the kitchen. 

“Can you go get the stuff for Leilani? She’s coming over in an hour.” I say with my puppy eyes. 

“Lei is coming over? Since when?” Trevor asked. 

“Since Addie just called me five minutes ago. Is there a problem?” I say with a grin, knowing he’s wrapped around the little girls finger. 

“No, I like knowing in advance. She never eats our food. We need to have stuff for her or something,” Trevor sighs, as he turns and starts fretting over the small stuff we have laying around our house that Leilani might grab ahold of. 

“Well we have some fruit she can eat. And yogurt,” I say, getting up and walking into the kitchen. I hear Trevor sigh behind me. “Well, what? Do you want to go get some for her?” I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

Trevor smiles and nods his head. He turns on his heel, grabs his keys, kisses me head, and heads out the door. 

I stand there, baffled, for a second before I head up to get the toddler pen that Addie gave me for when Leilani comes over. After setting it up in the living room I go back up to the closet to grab the box of toys that have accumulated at our place since Leilani was born. After I have some blankets and some toys set up in the playpen I decide to make myself some tea before she gets here. 

As I’m stirring my hot cup of green tea I hear the door to the garage open and into the kitchen walks Trevor. With three whole bags of baby snacks. 

“Trevor!! She’s not our kid! We don’t need this much!” I exclaim, eyebrows raised. 

He grins, “Babe, she’s always with us. Just start bringing some when you go to lunch with her and Addie. Maybe we can win her over and she’ll just stay here forever.” 

A small grin creeps to my face. “Hmm, I’d like to see what Addie thinks about that.” As he opens his mouth up to respond, the doorbell rings and Trev’s face lights up. He runs to the door, swinging it wide open. “Leilani, you’re getting bigger everyday!” He says, taking the toddler from Addie as they both walk in. “Don’t remind me,” Addie says as she sets Leilani’s diaper bag on the floor next the bench by our front door. “Well, I’ve got to go. You guys know everything I would normally say, right?” she asks, still being a worrisome mother. I open my mouth. 

“We’re fine! Leilani loves visiting us, don’t you?” Trevor says over me as he walks away with Leilani into the living room. 

Addie turns to me, “When are you going to give that man a kid of his own, look at him with Leilani.” she coos. 

“We are not close to having our own baby. But yeah, he’s great with her, isn’t he?” I say, watching after him. 

“Hmm. We’ll see. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thank you guys so much again. Really, you guys are lifesavers.” Addie says on her way back to the front door. 

Helping her out I say, “Of course, we’ll take her anytime.”

After Addie leaves I grab my cup of tea and head out to the living room to see the tv already set up playing Bluey and Trevor sitting with Leilani in his lap. He was leaning over her bopping her with his finger all over and she was rolling around his lap laughing and giggling. I smile at the sound of the little toddlers glee and go to sit next to them. 

“Who’s that Leilani? Who is she? Is that Auntie y/n?” Trev says in the voice he reserved for speaking to Leilani. 

I lean over Trevors shoulder and smile at the little girl who’s eyes are farting back and forth from me and trevor and a smile that doesn’t falter. 

“Hmm, it’d be pretty cute if we had one of these,” Trevor mutters and turns his head. 

I turn my head in shock. We’ve never had this conversation. I knew Trevor was great with kids and I knew he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “Kids? You want kids right now?” I ask with a lazy smile. 

“Well , maybe not now.” he says, grinning back at me. “But I know it’s you. I want to have my life be with you and all of the actual parenting stuff that we never get to do now, I want that later, with you. That, I know for certain.” Trevor admits, getting serious. 

“I can’t wait to live that life with you, Trevor” I say as my eyes well up with tears. 

Leilani lets out a soft wail and regains our attention. “Yeah, Leilani. What do you say? Do you want a little cousin?” I laugh as Trevor asks Leilani for her input  as if she had any. I could definitely see this becoming the normal for Trevor and I soon.