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#i could not for the life of me get the grass to look right and tbh im not putting in even more hours of work to do each individual blade
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Hey there~ If you are still taking requests for Kurt Wagner imagines/scenarios, can I suggest one with a mutant who has plant powers? Plant manipulation is my go to power. Nothing specific, I just really want more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler content 😊
Mother Nature
Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1,6K A/N: Alright, first of my requests is done! I made some kind of mix between headcanons and oneshot because it just fit well in my opinion. Also, the gender wasn't stated so I tried to keep it neutral. Hope you like it :)
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Let's start with some basics, shall we? In my opinion, Kurt would adore a partner with plant manipulation powers.
Yes, flying and teleporting are all well and good, but plant manipulation? He's absolutely fascinated and will watch you every time you use your powers. And don't you dare stop him watching...
You are, even if it's not immediately obvious, an incredibly powerful mutant. Control over plants means control over almost everything, trees, flowers, grass, even the earth if you try hard enough (through roots, of course). Kurt is a gentleman, of course, and it doesn't always sit right with him if you want to do certain things on your own that he could help with, but oh boy... If he doesn't get weak in the knees when you go into full mutant mode.
The first time he met you was in the old garden shed, which was pretty run-down. He hadn't really wanted to end up there himself, but in retrospect he is very grateful that he did. The professor had never really had time to look after the garden house, which is why you took on the task. And let me put it this way: the first time he saw your powers? The man was smitten from day one.
Plant nicknames. You won't escape them. Neither in German nor in English. “My flower”, “My lucky clover”, “My rose” but also references, especially to mythological creatures “Little garden fairy”, “Persephone”, .... The full program.
When he gives you plants - which he loves to do - he makes sure that they are planted so that you can enjoy them for a very long time. Kurt brings you plants from different cultures and countries, keen to give you as much diversity as possible. However, if he is forced to give you a bouquet of flowers, that's no problem either. You may prefer living plants, but hey - what can you manipulate plants for if you can't bring them back to life?
One disadvantage of your power is that you don't feel very comfortable in an environment without plants. It's fine in the institute, as it's mostly made of wood (dead, but still plant-based), but Kurt makes sure that there are always at least four living plants in your classroom as well as in his room.
Also loves listening to you. You teach a kind of mixture of theoretical biology and practical manual work in the gardens and there's almost nothing better for him than listening to you talk passionately about the plants. Or kneeling down in the garden bed, your eyes gleaming in the sunlight...
Should you move in together later? Be prepared for this man to go all out and fulfill your every request. Nothing is too good for you. Big garden? No problem. Plants all over the house? Already done. House in the country, surrounded by nothing but nature? Your wish is his command.
You have also quickly become his favorite training partner. And that's not just because Kurt can't keep his eyes and hands (and tail) off his partner. For one thing, it helps him to avoid moving objects, because he has learned the hard way how painful it can be to get an ivy tendril in the face. On the other hand, the two of you are simply perfectly attuned to each other. Kurt teleports a little too far to the left? Don't worry, the branch likes to stretch out a bit to catch him. The vine was a bit too short and not quite enough to catch you? Kurt is there to pick you up with ease. In other words, you don't want to compete against the two of you.
Kurt loves it when you make him flower necklaces or flower crowns. They last forever thanks to your power and as soon as you put them on his head? Don't expect him to take them off any time soon. He wears them with pride.
Kurt has always liked nature as he has traveled a lot in his life, but since he's been with you? He's become a huge fan of garden or nature dates. Whether it's a picnic outdoors, a walk in the woods or an afternoon in the greenhouse, he'll take it all. And if you do some magic with your power? He's in paradise.
Speaking of the greenhouse? Although it was initially your project, over time, especially after the relationship began, it has become your and Kurt's project. He doesn't know much about gardening, but he's willing to learn as long as that means continuing to listen and watch you.
Kurt materialized in the middle of the greenhouse and immediately the scent of the different types of flowers, of which he did not know the names, wafted towards him, but he knew that they made you happy and that was all that mattered to him. His eyes wandered around the open room, looking for you, and he realized again how much you had already done.
Yes, he had helped too, but it was you who had done the main work.  Kurt still remembered the dead beds, the dried up earth and the broken sidewalks.
The glass panes were dirty and partly broken and the rain had caused mold to grow on some things. None of the garden utensils, the few that were at least there, were usable and pretty much everyone would have labeled this greenhouse a lost cause.
Not you.
You set to work yourself and improved everything yourself without using much of your powers. Kurt had caught you at the beginning of your project, so he was able to assess the improvement pretty well. You had cleaned and partially replaced the glass of the greenhouse - the latter admittedly with his help, as it was easier for him to reach the panes above - knocked out the path and replaced it with a loose, albeit well-kept, gravel path. The old borders of the beds were torn out and replaced with a large partition to the gravel path, allowing the plants greater freedom to grow.
One day you had grabbed Logan and Scott, Kurt had come along voluntarily, and had taken them to a gardening store to buy the necessary equipment and seeds. Logan and Scott had both grumbled while carrying them, Logan a little more than Scott, but your results were impressive.
Dozens, if not hundreds, of different plant species were growing neatly in every direction and it no longer resembled a greenhouse, but a rainforest that rivaled even the true jungle in diversity. Kurt smiled slightly and ran the tip of his tail over the soft petals of a red hibiscus flower.
You had made it possible for many plants to grow here, even if the conditions were not ideal, but they thrived under your guidance.
However, just as he was about to bend down to smell a new, previously unknown flower, a frustrated groan sounded, which seemed all too familiar. Kurt could already guess where you would be. He disappeared into a dark cloud and emerged not two meters behind you.
For a few moments he gazed at you lovingly as you knelt in front of the lily patch, but he quickly stepped towards you when he realized you were about to snap with anger (last time it had taken a week and a lot of affection from Kurt to remove the rampant thorny vines from the school grounds).
Kurt couldn't help but find your behavior endearing and pulled you closer to him, even though you tried to fight it. You might be better with plants, but he was the stronger of the two of you, whether you liked it or not. "My love," he murmured in your ear and you gave up your fight, just snuggled up against him, pouting.
„Liebling," he knelt down next to you and tilted his head. "What's the problem?" You glared angrily at the beds in front of you and began to poke around in them with the shovel. "Snails. Snails are the problem. What's the point of being able to manipulate and grow plants if those blasted bastards eat all my lilies?"
Despite your frustration, Kurt had to smile. "You still haven't given up the fight."
"No," you replied, throwing another slug into the bucket next to you with a disgusted look on your face. "That's my greenhouse. Let them find their own."
"You can't possibly remove all the slugs, the greenhouse is too big for that. Besides, it's late. Let's go back to the institute. I'll make us some hot chocolate, we'll snuggle up on the sofa and watch that movie you've been wanting to show me for weeks."
You hesitated but his tail wrapped around your middle and the tip slowly traveled up and down your side and Kurt knew he had won.
You groaned in defeat and grabbed the bucket, which you promptly emptied out of one of the windows and closed it. You cast one last angry look at the beds. "You may have won the battle, but I will be the victor of the war."
Kurt laughed softly, wrapping you in his arms again as his tail wrapped boldly around your waist. "You will." With a sweeping motion, he picked you up bridal style and pressed you tightly against him, making you squeal and then laugh. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple.
"Tonight, though, you're mine." You disappeared in a cloud of black and blue mist and let it be said, you didn't think about the creatures that had declared war on you for the rest of the evening.
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ereardon · 20 hours
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The Stranger [Bradley Bradshaw x OC]
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Summary: Bradley Bradshaw left an impression — after finding him naked and passed out after a night of drinking in your front yard, he’s anxious to never see you again in his life and relive the embarrassment. But there’s something about him you just can’t let go. He’s a project, and you hate to admit you love a fixer upper. Bradley is hesitant to let you in, but you’re persistent. Is he making a massive mistake?
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x OC
A/N: This is a sneak peek of an unfinished WIP!
You were pouring your morning coffee, Cracker Barrel mug in one hand and coffee pot in the other, when you spotted him through the edge of the front window. 
The sun was just beginning to rise, peeling back the darkness from the night before, and you spotted what could only be an arm flung across the green grass of your front lawn. 
Stepping out onto the deck, you squinted. The grass was wet from the rain shower that had hit in the early morning and the street was eerily quiet. You looked around. There were no cars parked nearby. 
And yet, somehow there was a fully nude man lying face down on your lawn. 
You put the cup of coffee down gently, slid off your slippers and tiptoed tentatively down the path and onto the grass, bending down to see if you were about to call the cops with a homicide investigation. And then you watched his chest rise with a breath and you sighed out, hand on your heart. 
“Thank God,” you muttered. You stood back up and took him in. He was tall, or long considering he was just laying there in the grass. Curled brown hair, tanned and incredibly muscular arms, back and legs. And a nice fucking ass if you did say so. Leaning back down, you tapped his shoulder. “Um, hi?” 
The man groaned but remained on his stomach so you circled your fingers around his upper arm and shook harder. 
“Hello? Excuse me.” 
“Shit,” the guy groaned, rolling over and flopping onto his back, giving you a clear view of his package. Your eyes went wide, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. He also had a perfect six pack, but you were staring a bit south of the border. He rubbed his eyes and finally looked up at you. “Who are you?” 
“I’m Caroline,” you said, crossing your arms. “And you’re naked, by the way.” 
“Fuck,” he said, scrambling to cover himself and then wincing in pain, one hand coming up to his head. 
You shook your head and sighed, uncrossing your arms and shrugging off your blue robe. “Here, put this on.” 
He stood and accepted it, tying it around his waist but it was tight. “Thanks.” 
“Come inside,” you said, turning on a heel and heading back toward the walk. “You can take a shower if you want. Call someone to come get you.” 
He followed you, head hung. “Where am I?”
You grabbed the coffee mug you had deserted on the steps and opened the door. “You’re on Miguel Ave. A few blocks from the golf course.” 
He nodded and stepped inside. You pointed up the stairs. “Take a left at the top of the stairs. Guest bath is the third door on the right. There should be towels and a bigger robe if you need it.” 
He stepped onto the stairs and then turned around, giving you a quizzical look. “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m a stranger. I’m a naked stranger.” 
You laughed. “You think I haven’t seen my fair share of drunk idiots? I went to Tulane. I knew what happened to you the minute I saw you.” 
He simply nodded and ascended the stairs. You chuckled and walked into the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, there were cautious footsteps in the hallway beyond the kitchen and you turned around to see the guy from the lawn wearing your ex’s old flannel robe, his dark hair damp but clean. He had a mustache and a uniquely handsome face. You wouldn’t have immediately called him attractive if it wasn’t for how he carried himself. Even hungover and wearing a bathrobe in a stranger’s home, he had a charisma you could sense through his walk alone. 
“Take a seat,” you said, motioning to the dining table and he nodded, sitting down. You slid a cup of water and a cup of juice over, and then a mug of coffee and a plate of bacon. “Do you eat meat?” 
He chuckled and grabbed a slice. “Definitely.” 
“Good,” you said, returning to the stove and pulling off the pan of eggs, dropping some scrambled eggs into a dish and walking over to the table, taking the seat at the end and pushing one bowl of eggs over to him. “So, remember anything yet?”
He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth, chewed thoughtfully. “Bits and pieces. I want to say it involved a dare and a bottle of Jack Daniels.” 
You laughed and took a sip of coffee. “God, how old are you?” 
He smiled and you realized just how attractive of a smile it was. “I’m Bradley,” he said. 
You nodded. 
“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asked. 
“I told you outside?” 
He shook his head. “Fuck, sorry.” 
“Caroline,” you offered and he smiled. 
“Caroline,” he repeated. “Nice name.” 
You leaned back in the chair. “Do you need to borrow my phone?” He nodded and you unlocked your phone, sliding it across. You didn’t even realize until he stared at the home screen for a moment that it was still a picture of your ex and his dog. 
“Boyfriend?” he asked, lifting the phone into his large hands and scrolling for the dial pad. 
You shook your head. “Not anymore. I keep forgetting to change it.” 
He nodded carefully and hit a few buttons, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Bob, hey, it’s Rooster. Listen, I uh, I need a ride. Yeah, one second.” He pulled the phone away. “What’s your address?” 
“4502 Miguel Ave.”
He repeated the address into the phone. “Oh, and bring me some clothes, please.” You heard laughing on the other end of the line before he hung up. He slid the phone back to you. “Thanks. He should be here in fifteen minutes.” 
“So which is it?” 
He squinted at you. 
“You introduced yourself to me as Bradley, but whoever Bob is, and he has a great laugh by the way, apparently knows you as Rooster.” You slid your eyes over him. “Are you a stripper?”
“What?” he asked aghast and you laughed, taking a sip of coffee. 
“Cool if you are, no judgment here.” 
He shook his head, biting off another piece of bacon. “I’m a pilot. It’s a callsign. A sort of nickname.” 
“Pilot, huh?” 
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j4keluver · 12 hours
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To All The Boys I've Loved Before: To Whom it may concern, I like you
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casting: reader as lara jean, heeseung as peter kavinsky, sunghoon as reader's older brother, jungwon as josh sanderson, jay as greg, sunoo as lucas, ni-ki as kitty | ft... yunjin as chris, chaewon as gen
warning : explicit sexual implication (no smut) , swearing
synopsis: you've always dreamed of finding the picture perfect boyfriend but high school boys suck. whenever you get feelings so intense but can't put it to words, you write a letter that gets stuffed into a hidden blue box. so why is yang jungwon, your neighbor, walking towards you with a letter in his hand and why are you kissing lee heeseung, gen's boyfriend?
author's note: here's our first officially teaser of the series ! me and tiana (@luvj4key) have been working very hard to produce this series and we are so glad to see many of you loving it ! we still have a lot of responsibilities in our outside life out of tumblr so please be patient and understand that we are doing our best to create quality work for you guys. thank you for all the love ! and we will continue to answer question and build up your anticipation <3
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The feeling of the grass tickles your finger tips, almost making you throw a light laugh. The low lit sun kisses your skin and the scent of the earth breathes into your system. It's a sense of freedom and warmth that you can only delve into when getting lost in the carefully written pages and pages of a love story.
In the distance, there is a young boy that seems to enjoy the earth's presence. Sun-bathed skin that soaks up the sun's welcoming rays, playful eyes that hold a keen stare, and flushed cheeks that only Aphrodite could have blessed him with. But it's not just anybody - It's Yang Jungwon.
He catches your stare and gives you a wistful smile, slowly making his way to you. You can only stand still when he finally appears right in front of you. His calloused hands reach up to your face to caress the soft skin of your cheek. Jungwon's eyes flutter closed and it's like your eyes close on command. He leans in ever so slightly, the tip of his nose touching yours in a light nudge. His breath is getting closer to your lips until -
"Hey ! What was that for?" you groan. The pillow Riki just threw at you is now somewhere on the ground onto of a mountain of unfolded laundry. You look up to him from your book to see him leaning on your door frame.
"Well in case you didn't notice, dinner is about to be ready. We've called you like six times," he rolls his eyes. Sunghoon pops up from behind him, "Yeah peanut. If you weren't reading those shitty books, you would have noticed that Dad made your favorite."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. I just finished this chapter," you shooed them away. You put on a pair of slippers and stop at the bottom step when the door opens and a familar frame greets you. The man of the hour again - Yang Jungwon.
"Hoon, Riki," Jungwon says, pulling in them for a quick hug and a firm pat on the back. "Sick ! Jungwon brought the new fifa game. This is why you're better than Sunghoon. " Riki exclaims. Sunghoon smacks the backside of his head while Riki sheepishly mumbles an apology.
Jungwon makes eye contact with you and raises his hand for a high-five which you comply . Jungwon whispers, "My favorite siblings out of all of you guys but don't tell them that !"
You can only softly laugh, knowing he loved this household more than his own. Your dad calls out to him, ushering him the the kitchen. Jungwon winks at you before walking over.
Yang Jungwon was someone that you were almost too familiar with. The Yangs moved into the house next door when you were in the sixth grade, Sunghoon was in seventh, and Riki was in fifth. You still remember young Jungwon, hiding behind his mother's leg and peeking over with his cat-like eyes.
Jungwon's mother gave him a little nudge, "Don't be shy Jungwon, they won't bite you." You tilt your head at him before deciding to give him a small wave and offer a cheeky smile. With that, it seems like Jungwon's shell had cracked as his dimple peeked through when he smiled back.
Your brother immediately invited him in to play some video games which he just nodded too. Every since then, it was like Jungwon lived at your house. Heck, sometimes he knew your house better than you did. He came after school to get tutored by Sunghoon and he would come on the weekend to play soccer with Riki, only seeing you in fleeting moments.
Jungwon was techincally your first boyfriend. Well - space between boy and friend. You would bike to school together, eat lunch together, be each other's lab partners and join the same clubs. You guys were insperable until high school. Your dynamic was very different in high school than middle school.
Jungwon towered five inches taller than eight grade graduation, leaving him at a staggering 5'10. His jaw was more defined, cheekbones more prominent. He made the soccer team so he was frame was lean and his skin was sun-kissed from all the outside practices. And the most biggest change; the girls
Jungwon had always been attractive, at least in your eyes. But his new profound looks made him extremely popular with Adler High. You changed a little from middle school. You opted to wear contacts than your glasses, you got your braces off and you finally learned how to make your eyeliners twins and not cousins. But it was nothing compared to the 360 Jungwon made.
He tried to keep your connection strong, even when he got his first girlfriend. He would still come over on Friday after school for movie nights, and still had the usual routine with your siblings. However, you didn't know that a random Friday would be your last movie night.
In your defense, you didn't mean to ease drop on him and Sunghoon's conversation but you're glad did. You, Sunghoon and Jungwon were having a late night conversation in the backyard before you excuse yourself to grab some water.
You come back with three water bottles until you stop in your tracks as you heard Sunghoon ask Jungwon, "So THE Yang Jungwon isn't a virgin anymore huh? How was she?" You quickly hid behind the wall, trying to control your shaky hands. Jungwon laughs, "Dude her head game was insane, had me rolling my eyes and shit. And the way her walls sucked me in, literal stars."
Did Jungwon actually say that or are you imagining things? It wasn't until you heard Sunghoon hollers, "Let's fucking go Jungwon, I see you." Your face feels hot and you feel your eyes brimming with tears. But what are you crying for? Are you upset that he is disrespecting women or are you upset that you realized you're in love with him and he just confessed that he lost his virginity? Both? You take a deep breath and wait for their conversation to go still before heading out.
You drop off the waters to them and make up some excuse about a throbbing headache, clutching onto your temples. You hug them goodnight, holding onto Jungwon for a second longer than usual. You cry yourself to sleep.
Jungwon persists for the next month, constantly asking what was wrong and if there was anything he could fix. He would ask your brothers what's wrong, to which they only shrugged their shoulder not knowing the answer. He would text you and you would simply keep telling him it was personal reasons.
He stops trying one month and three weeks in, probably because his girlfriend wouldn't be so happy if she sees how much effort he is putting into you. From then on, things are a little awkward but manageable. You only see him in passing moments.
Jungwon and his first girlfriend eventually break up but he quickly gets with Kim Minji, a cheerleader for Adler high, and they're still together till now.
You take your sit at the dining table next to Sunghoon. Sunghoon plates your food for you, "Eat up, you won't have me to remind you when I'm in Ireland." You just sigh and say a 'thank you.'
Your dad starts, "So Jungwon, How's Minji? Haven't seen her around in a while." Sunghoon's eyes widen while Jungwon awkwardly clears his throat. His eyes dart around and he subconsciously makes eye contact with you. You raise an eyebrow at him before he looks away.
"Oh we've just been busy and stressed with school that we haven't been able to see each other in a while. It's.. going okay." Jungwon manages to say before Riki changes the topic, talking about the new game Jungwon brought over.
The conversation between the five of you flow smoothly. You settle for going bed early since you're waking up early to see Sunghoon off in the morning. You hug your dad and Sunghoon goodnight and drop a kiss on Riki's head ("Stop doing that (Y/N), I'm old and manly now" You know he still loves to be babied.) You choose for a small wave to Jungwon before heading upstairs.
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Sunghoon isn't a guy to get emotional and shed tears. You could count on your hands how many times you've seen Sunghoon cry. But here he was, stray tears falling down his cheek. Dad pats his back as Sunghoon sniffles. He gives Riki a quick hug, a rare moment between the brothers.
And when he gets to you, he pulls you into the tighest hug before leaving a big smooch on your head. He pulls back and sternly warns you, "Now peanut, listen to me very closely. Now with your older, hot, manly, strong brother away, boys are going to try to approach you and you will turn down every single one. You understand? Especially the Lacrosse team."
You don't really focus on the words you say as your own tears start to well up in your eyes where Sunghoon only coos at you and hugs you tighter. The three of your wave to Sunghoon as he walks through his gate. You look back to see if he's looking back. He's not and it finally hits you that for this school year, you're on your own (minus riki)
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taglist: @dimplewonie @wooziswife @bunnbam (unable to tag)
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wexhappyxfew · 22 hours
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Hi! I love your Silver Bullets girls, and Carrie x Douglass has a special place in my heart (even more since your last writing with them). So, for them I'd like to ask 35. (kissing their bruises and scars) from the Touch prompt list or 5. (the last thing they're thinking about before falling asleep is always the other) from the Subtle love list. 💗
HI FRIEND!!!! thank you so much for sending this and i am so so glad carrie and dougie have meant a lot, alongside the Silver Bullets girls (it seriously means SO MUCH and i always say it but its true!!!) THANK YOU FOR THE OPTIONS TOO!!!! i couldn't help myself and went with the second prompt (5) and decided to focus on some of their earlier meetings with one another and how they've developed into the people today. let's just say, i had a lot of fun! thank you SO MUCH!!!!! :D this was so much fun! <3 (and sorry for the wait for this....the semester was its usual chaos haha!)
greenland
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(a/n): safe to say, for my carrie x dougie enjoyers, this was FUN to write. we get a bit into life before the annie bradshaw era of silver bullets! WITH captain birdie faulkner. BUT, because i am a sucker for someone who haunts the narrative and is simply talked about, we don't actually meet birdie here, just hear about her as a leader and all (a running theme!). we also get a bit into the storyline of what dougie means when he said he wanted to ask carrie to 'dance in greenland in THIS PIECE. and also carrie's dislike for greenland lmfao. please enjoy!!! <3
Greenland was anything but green, it seemed.
Maybe that's why the Vikings called it that - to freak the living fuck out of any sort of enemy that was bound to come this way and make them mistake what was actually a stupid ice block for well - 'green land'.
The landing had been less that superb and Captain Faulkner had dismissed them all to the bar to the left of the tarmac for the rest of the evening off.
Birdie Faulkner was everything, including a realist, and she seemed to understand that the rather harrowing conditions of their landing was something that required at least a drink or two before bedding down for the night.
With a half-finished beer, Carrie was sure that she could've fallen asleep in that very chair for the time being, but she had to present herself a best she could. With the newest B-17 group collected, Silver Bullets was formulated and crafted by that oh-so-brilliant mind of Birdie Faulkner, and they all had her to thank. And Carrie had to look a bit more put-together than usual - prove she's not just a wash-out bombardier with lackluster experience. That she deserved the spot in Silver Bullets more than anyone else.
"So?" a voice came from her right, settling into the other plush, leather seat at her side, the smiling face of Bessie Carlisle appearing as she popped open her own beer bottle, "Greenland, huh?" Carrie smirked and rolled her shoulders and glanced around.
"It's cozy, really," Carrie offered, "I'm considering taking a swim in the river, suntanning-"
"Okay, smart ass," Bessie said with a chuckle, her boot nudging her own foot, "can't say I'm complaining. Finally out of those training cycles, working towards the war. Maybe, we'll actually put ourselves to use instead of waiting just to go on a practice run." Carrie watched Bessie and then smiled widely.
"Love it so much that I may tell my future husband that 'Hey, we're moving to Greenland!', pack up the truck, babe, forget Brooklyn, home is where the grass is a solid as a fucking rock," Carrie said, sipping her beer, "not to mention the weather. I love to freeze."
"Someone's happy." a new voice chimed in, as Francis settled into a chair opposite them, sucking down a portion of her beer and grinning, "I've never seen you so enthusiastic about something." Carrie deadpanned.
"I'm really jumping for joy over here, Monty." Carrie told Francis, raising her glass of beer up in mock ceremony, "You know me so well." Francis and Bessie burst out into laughter as Carrie leaned back in her chair with a sigh and looked towards the ceiling.
"When the hell are we going to England?" Carrie asked, counting the flecks of rotting wood in the wooden ceiling, her eyes tracing the pieces that stuck out of the ceiling panels before losing her spot and recounting, "If I could just get another beer started, I'd be ready by tonight to head out. No pit-stops for me, I'm just fine with a beer stop and then jetting off to England and calling it a day."
"I wish I had the same energy towards that, Bergie, I really do," Bessie said, "afraid to say I'd ask for a few hours of sleep thought over that."
"Sleeps overrated half the time!" Carrie admonished still staring up at the ceiling, "How you gonna get a thing done when sleep's-"
"Exactly what you need." Carrie blinked a few times and into focus above her head came James Douglass - fellow bombardier, with whom Bessie had introduced on one of Carrie's first days after her transfer on base.
Carrie remembered first time seeing him coming towards them, with that carpet on his face he called a mustache, a sharp smirk, a rather loud, somewhat obnoxious voice, a quick hand-shaking, before he was wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pointing out to various areas along the base like they'd been friends for years - something that had caught her completely off guard. And ever since then, with their few chance meetings, they'd been nothing but a trifle of teasing jabs and somewhat good-natured fun.
Key word: somewhat.
Because she could never actually read James Douglass unlike Benny DeMarco or Hambone Hamilton who were just about as sweet to her as her grandma's hotcakes. He'd see her and beeline, make a few jokes, flirt shamelessly, and then go dance with the next girl who'd take his hand. He was quite the character and Carrie usually didn't engage in much conversation past when he'd come to seek her out.
Except now, he was hung above her like a hyperactive golden retriever, like the dog, Kering, that had lived down the street from the Achterberg's in Brooklyn all her life. Running out of the Wilkes house anytime the door opened, barking and sniffing and tearing around the neighborhood like a lunatic. Yeah, Kering the golden retriever who looked like he was a lunatic reminded her exactly of James Douglass.
Nice to know home was never far.
"What are you trying to say, huh?" Carrie asked, still slouching in the chair and staring up at him hovering over her. Douglass grinned at her, showing off his pearly whites and that charming look on his face and he let out a chuckle.
"You know, a little sleep never hurt a soul. Only reason we're even alive," Douglass said, reaching forward to rub her shoulder, "makes the brain happy or some shit. Makes people less….cranky."
"You calling me cranky, now?"
"Cranky. Now that's just one of many words-"
"Oh, you little-"
"Alright!" Bessie said standing and shoving Douglass pack from where he currently was occupying Carrie's headspace, "Nice to know some things never change." Carrie glanced at her as she sat up and Bessie raised a brow with a smirk.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Douglass said from behind Carrie, before he moved around her chair and took the other open seat in the grouping of four, and kicking back to relax. Carrie watched Bessie before looking at Francis, who was rather interested in her cup of beer, before glancing at Douglass, who was already looking at her.
"What?" she murmured, before he made a face and she rolled her eyes.
"How was the flight over, Douglass? Invigorating?" Bessie asked Douglass, with a smile - leave it to Bessie to be sweet as cream on any given occasion.
"You woulda thought Greenland would be, well, fucking green-"
"That's what I said!" Carrie butted in, getting looks from the other three, before settling on Douglass who was watching her, with a mixture of interest and annoyance, but she couldn't seem to decipher the two and sank back in her chair, "Greenland's cold as fuck, not some East Coast paradise I'll give ya that." She heard Douglass chuckle at that as Carrie took in more sips of beer.
"With the way we were flying in, I wasn't even sure we were gonna make it at first, I'll tell you that," Douglass said, "you sit in that nose and you swear to God that you'll smash right into the tarmac. Good ole Ev Blakely don't let that sorta stuff happen though."
"Yeah, a real crap shoot." Carrie muttered, "Thought Birdie was gonna bring us in sideways." Douglass raised a brow as he sipped his beer.
"Guess you can say they lied about the fucking weather, too," Douglass offered, "really nice place here. Could barely move my fingers and toes when I actually stood up fully." Bessie let out a chuckle and started sipping her beer again as Carrie narrowed her eyes at her.
"Hey, they're putting on some music to dance, y'all wanna come?" Judy Rybinski's joyfully said as she appeared behind Francis, "C'mon Bessie, I know that look anywhere, you wanna!"
"You know me too well, Jude," Bessie said, getting to her feet and finishing off her beer.
"I'm coming with! No shot I'm missing a chance at good music and good company." Francis said getting to her feet, "The company part may be a stretch-"
"Oh c'mon!" Judy said, taking Francis' hand before looking at Carrie and Douglass unmoved in their chairs, "You two coming?"
"I'm going to continue working on these beers, Jude, but I appreciate it," Carrie said, "Greenland's officially fucked me up." Judy let out a chuckle.
"You enjoy that then, Bergie," Judy said before looking at Douglass, "Dougie?" Carrie glanced sideways at Douglass who sat quietly, before glancing over at Carrie and then Judy again.
"Maybe next time," he said with a nod, "I promise you a dance, got it?"
"Sounds good! Don't have too much fun!" Judy called before she disappeared and some Artie Shaw began playing over the speakers.
"Good to know we have one thing in common, Bergie." Carrie slowly looked over at Douglass, that annoying nickname rolling off his lips like it had before, "We both hate Greenland." And he grinned at her and couldn't help but smirk back.
"First off, don't call me that. Second, you might be right about that," Carrie said, sipping her beer again, "you know that it's called Greenland because of the Vikings?" Douglass let out a chuckle and shook his head.
"Nah, you're fucking with me," he said, "the Vikings? The guys with the horns on their heads?"
"I'm not kidding," Carrie said sitting up and fully meeting his gaze for the first time since he had hung overtop her, "I swear to you, they did it. Tricking their enemies. For the sake of how much can they fuck a person in the head." Douglass watched her for a moment, before letting out a laugh and sipping his beer again, before smirking.
"Maybe they were just being smart," Douglass countered, "before they knew that it was just one sheet of ice for miles on end. Then they realized what a shitty name Greenland was." Carrie stared at him for a moment, before smiling slightly, unable to hold back her grin.
"You really know how to get under my skin, don't ya?"
"Guess you could say I know what makes you tick."
"Oh so now you suddenly know everything about me, huh?" Carrie said, leaning over to give his shoulder a playful shove, "Well, go on, what's my favorite color?" She watched him and noticed him glance at her lips - surprisingly - before moving back to her eyes.
"I don't know….blue probably." Carrie watched him and stilled for a moment.
"Uh….yeah, actually." she said quickly, and forced down the way her cheeks flamed (and for what she didn't know), "Alright, well, where do I come from?"
"Brooklyn." Douglass said, laughing at the look on her face, "Look, sweetheart, that New York accent ain't just a voice with Southern twang. I know if I was walking down the streets, and I heard your voice, it'd be you."
"God, what the hell." murmured Carrie as Douglass chuckled, "You won't get this - school subject." Douglass looked at her and then smirked before leaning forward.
"Something with math, right?" he asked her confidently, "You don't just get interested in this sorta shit without having some interest there." Carrie watched him and tilted her head.
"Are you mind-fucking me or something?" she asked him, "How the hell-"
"Just good at reading people I guess." Douglass said with a smirk, "Contrary to popular belief, Bergie, I usually know what I'm talking about. There's a reason I'm a bombardier and not just some journalist or something." She watched him and licked her lips.
"Is that why you joined?" she asked him, "The Air Force? Flying in B-17s?" Douglass glanced at her and nodded.
"Had to join the fight somehow, couldn't just sit back and let the fucking Nazis think they could walk all over us," Douglass said, finishing his beer, "that sorta stuff just don't fly around here. Well, except us. We fly." The two burst out into laughter, before they both died down and looked to one another. For a moment, they were quiet regarding one another with somewhat hesitant gazes as Carrie finished off her beer.
"Well, I'm gonna head-"
"Did you wanna-"
They both watched each other, before breaking out into laughter and righting themselves.
"You go." Douglass said.
"I was gonna head out. Get some rest. Pretty tired." she said quickly, her heart racing as she smiled at him with a nod, "You?" Douglass stared at her and for the first time, she saw the sudden shyness in his gaze as he glanced away from her and then back.
"Just…was gonna get another drink, but you head out, get some rest," he said, before smirking at her, "you need it."
"Oh, you asshole." grumbled Carrie knocking his shoulder before standing to her feet, Douglass following suit. The stood there for a moment, looking at one another - usually, if this were a Silver Bullets girl, she'd give them a hug, but with Douglass, she felt frozen in place. She stuck out her hand instead, to shake, and he shook her hand, and she felt more awkward than ever before, as she shook back. His handshake was firm though, and confident and suddenly made her feel like some 16-year-old girl in high school and balked.
"Well, I'll see you around." she said, stumbling back a bit, "Night!" And she disappeared quickly - like she always did. She found the barracks, promptly settled into bed, and then stared at the ceiling, counting the dried pieces of wood hanging from the panels again.
And she replayed the look in James Douglass' eyes - over and over.
And for the first time in years, all she could think about was James Douglass' eyes that had watched her like that, as she tried to fall asleep.
To say the least, it was the best sleep in months.
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goatsandgangsters · 3 days
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had a very interesting day out where I saved a hypothetical dog's life, aesthetically read in the park, and got in the middle of Strangers Arguing in my temporary new job as Patron Saint of Slackliners
first of all, gorgeous day, low 60s, bright blue sky, warm in the sun but with a refreshingly cool breeze, the trees finally have leaves again, peak Late Spring moment
I stopped at the farmer's market and didn't end up buying anything, but someone at a booth gave me a little sprig of lavender (this is a surprise tool that will help us later!)
passed by a guy squatting on the sidewalk picking up the entire contents of a dropped container of grapes, right as his friend was like "it's fine, just leave it, some dog will come by and take care of it" and I whipped around and went "GRAPES ARE SUPER TOXIC TO DOGS!!!" this is an urban area, people don't have yards, there are So Many dogs on the sidewalks, so my first task set by the universe today was sharing Dog Facts so that none of them die
I arrive at the park. I find a lovely tree to sit under. it is the most vibrantly blue-and-green day imaginable. I have my travel mug of hot tea that is only getting hotter sitting in direct sunlight. I have a sprig of lavender in my pocket. I am wearing—this is important scene setting information—high waisted secondhand wool trousers that definitely once belonged to an old man, a button down, tortoise shell glasses, and (again) a sprig of lavender. I am reading a book of oscar wilde plays. I am a parody of myself, but it's fine because I'm having a great time
and then—The Slackline Drama Begins. two people show up and start setting up a slackline near me and these other two girls who're sitting on the grass. the two girls are in the trajectory of the slackline, so the slackliners ask if they could scoot back a couple feet (or maybe they didn't even, the grass girls were like a little off to the side, so they might've just taken issue with the slacklining happening right next to them—not sure, I hadn't fully clocked into the drama yet)
in either case, the girls refuse to move and take issue with the slackliners, who explain that they're really sorry but they need a certain distance between trees and this is one of the few spots that's good for them to set up. the grass girls are like "well then maybe you should have gotten here earlier :))))))))"
important context: this park is 500 acres. it is not a small park. there is no shortage of grass to sit on. I have gotten lost in this park multiple times. it's vast.
there is a lot of back-and-forth between the slackliners and the grass girls. the one slackliner is getting very upset and angry that the grass girls won't just scoot. slackline girl has been having a rough time and hasn't been able to get outside recently and this is very clearly the final shitty-thing straw. the grass girls are immune to this and using that like...... faux-nice "girl who bullied you in middle school" Meanly Chirpy voice to keep being like "well we were here first so this is Our Spot :))))))) you can't ask people to move in public :)))))"
it has gone on long enough that's impossible to ignore, but my mental math says that jumping in and trying to mediate won't go over well, so instead I just look at upset slackline girl and say—loudly—"I'm on your side." bc I felt like if grass girls with their Faux Polite Tones knew other people were paying attention and were siding with Swearing Slackliner, that would help more
Grass Girls do, finally, get up and leave entirely (instead of just...... scooting over five feet) and they make some snide parting remarks. slackline girl calls them assholes, I loudly agree. Slackline Girl is now sobbing, her friend is comforting her, it's kinda clear she's not gonna be able to have a good time even with grass girls leaving
I go over and I'm like "hey I know you don't know me, but do you want a hug?" and the girl says yes, clings onto me crying, she's being very apologetic about the whole thing and trying to explain, and I'm like "no they were literally just sitting on the grass and there is...... So Much Grass. you are not the asshole. there's so much other grass!" I keep this up with her and the friend until she stops crying, bc like sometimes you do need an outside perspective
I go "hey.......... do you want a sprig of lavender?" and she very tearfully nods and goes "I love lavender"
again, I AM DRESSED LIKE A SNAZZY GRANDFATHER, joining this beef between strangers and doling out random sprigs of lavender
anyway, she's cheering up, so I go back to reading, they get slacklining, they end up needing to tie a line to my tree I'm reading under, I don't have a problem with this because I'm not a dick and we can share the tree, the afternoon passes, eventually it's getting a little chilly so I decide to leave and I'm thinking "okay how can I quickly grab their attention to say goodbye"
but the SECOND they see me stand up and grab my things, they're like BYE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! and I'm like "I hope you have a good day!" and she's like "you kinda saved it" I'm full of gooey feelings about it, I genuinely want good things to happen for this person so much, and I'm glad the universe appointed me and my sprig of lavender as her cheerer-upper
in conclusion: I'm enjoying Lady Windermere's Fan so far
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adzy-drawz · 23 days
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wow what a peaceful day! sure hope the scary teeth man doesnt come and jumpscare them or anything haha that would be crazy
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alternate version without caines shadow
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katierosefun · 10 months
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wow i love you the transporting power of music (am trying so hard not to cry because of the film reel in my head)
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maniaparty · 11 months
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i have so many juliya comics in my mind  i need to not forget them
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fizzlehead · 2 years
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do you guys think i should steal the outdoor cat that’s been roaming around my apartment complex and just keep her in my apartment. know that if even one person says yes i will probably do it
#she very clearly belongs to someone like she has a flea collar on (with no information on it mind you). but she’s just been like#running around the parking lot and hiding under cars and we’re right next to a really busy road!! and she keeps coming up to my#screen door and meowing and if i go out on the patio she’ll sit with me for like an hour at a time and if i walk outside sometimes she#comes running to me :-((( she’s like the sweetest cat I’ve ever met and she should not be roaming the parking lot!!! yesterday she was#fully asleep in the MIDDLE of the parking lot I had to pick her up and move her into the grass#i’ve already named her. and we’re bonded at this point i don’t know that i can live without her (it’s been 3 days). she’s my best friend#one of my neighbors has already told me i should keep her. if it weren’t for my sister’s cat she would be in my apartment already.#but im considering it anyways. i could make it work#also like i don’t necessarily WANT to steal someone’s cat but as far as im concerned if you choose to have an outdoor cat yoh surrender all#ownership of thag animal. if someone decides they want to take your outdoor cat and keep her inside and give her a safe life that’s their#cat now. you don’t have a cat anymkre. maybe try again when you learn how to take care of animals#anyways uhmmmm. this is my situation. i have not been able to think about anything else for 3 days because I’m so worried about her getting#hit by a car or something. so at this point stealing her would be for my own mental well-being. but also i definitely should not do this. so#OH ALSO. there’s a second cat that also definitely belongs to the same person that i discovered last night when I was looking for the first#cat. and I definitely cannot steal both of them. so keep that information in mind when you are giving me your final decisions.#maybe I could steal both of them. this is ruining my#life#taylor xoxo
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cafecdramin · 2 months
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A compilation of ACTUAL things Dan has said to/about Phil that makes me want to set myself on fire:
You're my plinth of life
You look good there, you look strong, you look powerful [...] you look lovely
I mean, Phil, your biceps are wonderful and you have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?
I think your personality is too adorable for it
I know us better than you do
You are an amazing morale booster and you're really fun an nice
You are so unique and amazing that no art can ever capture your essence
You have to get prepared to revenge my death and give me the rub rubs to bring me back up
I think the universe would rip in half, let's not try [going further apart]
And Phil, something I talk about is the importance of having people to support you and that's been you, throughout my life. Through the little existential crisis, you've been there feeding me snacks, and as annoying as you have been, at least you've been there
I will find you in any world, Phil!
Obviously we were more than friends, but it was more than just romantic, this is someone that genuinely liked me, I trusted them, and for the first time since I was a tiny child I actually felt safe. And the relationship that we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like, actual soulmates
We’re like two 4,000-year-old tortoises just silently chewing grass, staring into the sunset.
Your fucking faves could never have that chemistry day one! Show me your favorite duo, I'll wait, I'll sit the fuck right here!
Best friends, arch enemies, husbands, business partners, partners in crime, soul mates, just mates, who the fuck knows?
Remote crisis manager
Moon butt
These little nuggets
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queenimmadolla · 3 months
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
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next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.
a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)
Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.
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THEN, 1986.
  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 
  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.
  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 
  “Wha’?”
  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”
  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”
  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 
  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 
  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 
  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 
  Someone. 
  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 
  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.
  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.
  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.
  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 
  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 
  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 
  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.
  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.
  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.
  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.
  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.
  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.
  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.
  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.
  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.
  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.
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  NOW, 1989
  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.
  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.
  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.
  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 
  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.
  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.
  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.
  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 
  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 
  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 
  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?
  Your mother was murdered.
  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.
  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 
  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.
  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.
  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 
  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 
  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.
  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.
  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 
  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.
  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 
  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 
  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.
  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 
  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”
  It was a little odd, but you did. 
  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?
  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.
  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”
  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.
  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.
  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 
  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”
  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’
  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”
  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.
  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.
  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”
  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”
  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.
  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 
  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”
  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.
  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?
  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”
  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”
  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 
  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”
  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 
  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”
  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.
  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 
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  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”
  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 
  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”
  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”
  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.
  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.
  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 
  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 
  Didn’t feel like it.
  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”
  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.
  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”
  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”
  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”
  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”
  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 
  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”
  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.
  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.
  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.
  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.
  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.
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“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”
  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.
  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.
  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 
  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.
  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 
  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 
  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.
  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 
  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 
  “Okay, spill.”
  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.
  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 
  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 
  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 
  “Steve Harrington.”
  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.
  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.
  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”
  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”
  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”
  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 
  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.
  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 
  “Does he flirt with you?”
  “No.”
  “See him flirt with any girls?”
  “Nope.”
  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”
  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”
  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”
  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”
  “He’s on the spectrum?”
  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”
  It got quiet for a few moments.
  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”
  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 
  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.
  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”
  “Reefer Rick?”
  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”
  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”
  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”
  Munson.
  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”
  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”
  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”
  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”
  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.
  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”
  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.
  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.
  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.
  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”
  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.
  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 
  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”
  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.
  “H-He’s your favorite…?”
  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”
  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”
  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 
  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”
  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”
  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”
  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”
  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.
  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.
  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 
  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”
  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.
  Maybe a drink would calm you down.
  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.
  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 
  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.
  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”
  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”
  Oh, shit. 
  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.
  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.
  ”Funny seeing you here.”
  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.
  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”
  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 
  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.
  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.
  “Oh.”
  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”
  OH, THANK FUCK. 
  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.
  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”
  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”
  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.
  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.
  “Hey, Carol.”
  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”
  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 
  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”
  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.
  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”
  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.
  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.
  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.
  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”
  “Oopsie.”
  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.
  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 
  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.
  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.
  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.
  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.
  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 
  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.
  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.
  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.
  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.
  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?
  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”
  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.
  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”
  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.
  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.
  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”
  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.
  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 
  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.
  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.
  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”
  “Wall.”
  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”
  “Great Wall of China.”
  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.
  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”
  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 
  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.
  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.
  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 
  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.
  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.
  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”
  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.
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  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.
  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.
  “Does that feel good?”
  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 
  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”
  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.
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  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.
  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.
  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.
  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.
  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.
  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.
  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.
  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.
  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror
  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 
  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.
  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.
  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.
  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”
  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.
  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 
  His right arm was out, palm up.
  He was waiting for you.
  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.
  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.
  “Sissy. . .”
  “Sissy…”
  “SISSY!”
  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.
  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 
  What the hell?
  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”
  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 
  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.
  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”
  “Oh my god…”
  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.
  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.
  “Ooh, your knees…”
  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…
  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.
  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.
  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.
  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”
  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 
  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 
  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.
  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”
  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”
  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.
  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.
  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.
  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”
  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”
  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”
  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”
  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”
  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”
  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.
  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”
  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.
  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 
  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”
  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 
  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.
  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.
  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.
  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.
  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.
  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”
  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”
  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.
  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.
  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”
  “THAT WE DO!” 
  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.
  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.
  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.
  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”
  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.
  “Mm. White wine?”
  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”
  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”
  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.
  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”
  You shot him a glare.
  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”
  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 
  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.
  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.
  Then your eyes snapped open.
  Oh, god. You were a loser.
  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.
  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.
  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.
  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.
  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.
  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 
  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”
  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.
  “Yes, we got a free soda!”
  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”
  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.
  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”
  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.
  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.
  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”
  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.
  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 
  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”
  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”
  “I bet you can.”
  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.
  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.
  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.
  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 
  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 
  And it was coming from outside your front door.
  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.
  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 
  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.
  “Uuuhhhnng…”
  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!
  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.
  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.
  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”
  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.
  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”
  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.
  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 
  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 
  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.
  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 
  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.
  “Stop it!”
  “Leave me alone!”
  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”
  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.
  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!
  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”
  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.
  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 
  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 
  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 
  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.
  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.
  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.
  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.
  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.
  “It’s…It���s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 
  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 
“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”
  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.
  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”
  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.
  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.
  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.
  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”
  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.
  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”
  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.
  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.
  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.
Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.
No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!
thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k
cw violence and injury
You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me. 
This is decidedly not fine. 
You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub. 
I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt? 
Breath warms your ear. “Boo.” 
The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them. 
You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.
Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”
A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away— 
You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch. 
“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts. 
“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!” 
You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.
“Oh,” you mumble queasily. 
The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask. 
Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown. 
“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks. 
“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow. 
“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.” 
You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily. 
“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?” 
“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.” 
Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off. 
“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.” 
“My head is swimming.” 
Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you. 
“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. 
“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.” 
Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?” 
“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask. 
“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.” 
“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.” 
Tara grins. “Your funeral.” 
You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers. 
“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful. 
Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.” 
“What?” 
His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.” 
“I'm sorry.” 
Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.” 
“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash. 
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.” 
“Oh, well,” you say tiredly. 
Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur. 
You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.” 
He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.
1K notes · View notes
magiccath · 5 months
Text
The Ring
tenth doctor x f!reader
Summary: In which the only way for you and the Doctor to get out of this one is a fake marriage. But how fake is it really?
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You keeled over, your breath coming out in short pants. You weren't as good at this running thing as the Doctor was. 
Sensing you weren’t behind him, the Doctor turned to check on you. You threw your thumb up, signaling that you were okay. You didn’t like the Doctor worrying about you. 
“I’m sure we’ve lost them for now,” he assured, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that he had.
“What are we going to do?” You asked once you had caught your breath. You allowed your legs to fold underneath you, sitting in the grass. The Doctor crouched down next to you. 
It was supposed to be a nice vacation, a break from the hustle and bustle of time traveling. You had explicitly asked for a relaxing trip, one where you didn’t have to save the world or run for your life. You should have known that was never how it was with the Doctor. 
Everything was fine at first. The alien town the Doctor had selected for your trip was throwing an elaborate festival. You were more than happy to partake in the dancing and sample the foreign foods. What you failed to notice was the ritual behind the festival. The village selected an unmarried woman each year to sacrifice to their gods. In retrospect, it wasn’t the weirdest ritual you had encountered over the years. What made it so uncomfortable was the fact they had selected you. 
“I would rather not be a blood sacrifice,” you admitted, pushing your wayward hair out of your face. 
“I won’t let that happen,” The Doctor said seriously, taking your hand gently. He had the duty of care, something that he didn’t take lightly. 
“I’m not sure how much good we are against a whole village of bloodthirsty aliens,” you laughed, burying your head in your hands. You should have been scared, upset even. Instead, you found the whole thing funny. You supposed that was a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Everything could always be worse, and everything in front of you could always be funny. You just had to frame it the right way.
“I have an idea,” the Doctor murmured. You looked up at him, confused. He only whispered things when he knew you wouldn’t like them. 
“They only want to sacrifice you because you’re unmarried,” he stated. You stared at him, unsure of the point he was trying to make. 
He groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration. 
“I’m gonna need you to spell this one out for me,” you laughed lightly.
The Doctor swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively. “We could get married,” he said matter-of-factly, with the same tone he used to ask if you wanted tea or coffee in the morning. 
“What?” you asked, wide-eyed. The Doctor swallowed again, his eyes diverting from yours. 
You loved the Doctor, in every sense of the word. He was your home, your comfort. He was everything and more to you. But he only loved you as a friend, and you were more than willing to accept that love. It was better to love him like this than not at all. 
“They can’t sacrifice you if we get married.” 
“No, I got that part,” you rushed out, waving your hands about anxiously.
“You,” you sighed, pausing before continuing, “marry me?” 
“To save your life, yes,” the Doctor said like it was the simplest thing in the world. He would walk to the ends of the universe for you. He had.
“Can we do that?” you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. The whole thing felt too good to be true. 
“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather fake-marry,” he smiled, taking your hands in his again. 
You grinned, the smile taking over your whole face. The Doctor loved it when you smiled like that. He loved it even more when he made you smile like that. 
“Let’s get fake married!” you laughed, jumping up from the grass. The Doctor nodded in agreement, standing up next to you. 
“How exactly…” you trailed off. “Are we going to get fake married?” The Doctor had a habit of making plans without a way to execute them. 
It wasn’t like you could just walk into the village church and get married. You certainly couldn’t go back to the TARDIS, or that would have been the plan before suggesting a falsified marriage.
“There was a little cottage on the outskirts of town, we can hope that there’s an inhabitant there who can serve as a witness?” He suggested. 
You couldn’t come up with a better idea so you agreed, following the Doctor as he walked off into the distance. 
You tried not to read too much into the whole marriage thing. The Doctor was doing it to save your life, nothing more. Still, the mere idea of it left your skin tingling and your heart racing. 
You were so lost in thought you hardly noticed the cottage creeping up on you until you were standing on the front steps. 
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the wood softly before stepping back. You waited in silence for a few moments. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What if this didn’t work? 
The door flung open, revealing an old woman. 
“What do you want?” She barked, clearly disturbed by the visit. 
The Doctor cleared his throat, searching for his words. You frowned, he usually didn’t have any trouble talking to strangers. 
“This is a bit of a strange request,” he laughed lightly, his hand drifting towards the back of his neck subconsciously. 
“Spit it out, young man.” 
You bit back a giggle. The Doctor was far from young, even if this face was youthful. 
“We need a witness for our wedding,” he rushed, his words coming out in hurried clusters. 
The woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of you. You could see hundreds of questions forming in her mind before she shook them away. 
“I don’t want to know,” she murmured as she opened the door. 
You exchanged a look of relief with the Time Lord before following her inside. 
She bustled about her cottage, sorting things out while the two of you fiddled anxiously in the corner. 
“Well, let's get on with it,” she finally sighed. 
The Doctor nodded timidly, holding out his hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, your fingers interlocking instantaneously. You had held hands hundreds of times, yet it felt different.
With his other hand, the Doctor rifled about in the pockets of his coat. You frowned, wondering what could possibly be in there. Did he really need a jammy dodger from the depths of his pocket right now? Finally, his hand slipped out of the pocket holding two silver rings. 
“Why, on Earth, are you carrying around wedding bands?” you laughed. He only shrugged, handing the simple rings over to the old woman. She examined the objects in her hand wistfully, turning them over in her hand. 
“I can’t say I’m a professional at this,” she warned. It didn’t really matter to either of you.
The Doctor took your other hand in his, standing face-to-face with you. You laughed at the domesticity of it. 
“Do you,” the woman paused, looking at the Doctor. 
“John Smith,” The Doctor smiled. You shook your head at his fake name. You had told him hundreds of times that he should change it. No one was really named John Smith, that's the kind of name you only ever found in books. 
“Alright,” the woman said, not even blinking. “Do you, John Smith, take this woman to love and hold blah, blah, blah?” She finished, looking back to the Doctor. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were glued to you, studying every single aspect of your face. He never wanted to forget this moment. From your end of things, you were left with a sickly feeling that you had food on your face. 
“I do,” He smiled brightly. 
“And you?” she turned to you, repeating the process. 
“Absolutely,” you grinned. 
The woman handed you each a ring, which you placed on the other’s hand. You noted the slight shake in the Doctor’s hands as he slipped the silver band onto your finger.
You had always wanted to get married. Sure, you never imagined it like this. Standing in some random cottage in a pair of worn-out jeans exchanging wedding bands in order to save your life was never your plan. Even still, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You may kiss the bride,” The old woman chided, looking at you two disapprovingly. You were so busy looking into the Doctor’s eyes that you completely forgot about the whole kissing part of getting married. 
A scarlet flush overtook your face, but the Doctor pretended not to notice. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands gently, angling it upwards towards his. Slowly, he dipped his way down until his lips were inches away from yours. 
You could feel his breath on your mouth, you noted each and every twitch of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he eliminated the gap, his mouth crashing into yours. 
He very well could have given you a chaste kiss, the kind you give your gran on Christmas Eve. Instead, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about kissing you for eons. 
His mouth fit against yours perfectly. There was no other way to describe it. 
He pulled away slowly, leaving you stunned and breathless. Your eyes remained closed for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally opened, you saw him. Your Doctor. The impossible, magnificent, loving creature in front of you. It was foolish to claim that such a being was yours alone, but you couldn’t see it any other way. 
“Congratulations,” the old woman smiled, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, pushing your hair out of your face. 
-
You didn’t keep the ring on long. A few days after your wedding it came off with the rest of your jewelry before bed. You just never put it back on. It was a fake wedding after all. 
That didn’t mean that you threw it away though. Quite the opposite. The ring sat on your bedside table, occasionally glimmering in the light. 
Sometimes, you would run your fingers over it before bed. You relished the idea of it all. The memory of his hands holding yours, the feeling of his lips on yours. It haunted you.
The Doctor, however, never took it off. Not after the wedding. Not before bed. Not when he fiddled with the wires under the TARDIS console. 
You noticed this one evening, the dimmed lights of the control room catching on the polished metal. 
“Why do you still wear that?” you asked, gesturing to the Doctor’s left hand. His eyes traveled to the band on his finger that he had been idly spinning. 
“It’s my wedding band,” he shrugged as if it was as simple as that. 
“I’m not sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I’m not even sure our wedding was legal.” 
“It doesn’t have to be,” he frowned, still looking at the ring. 
“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he suggested. He didn’t want to take it off, not ever. But if you wanted him to, he would. 
“It doesn’t,” you whispered, staring at the space where your own ring used to be. The feeling of his lips came back to you, and you had to push it to the side. 
“Did it mean nothing to you?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening you might have missed it. 
“Not at all,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. 
“You don’t wear yours,” he commented, taking your left hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, not trusting yourself to meet his eye. 
“You married me to save my life,” you stated. 
“And?” 
“It was a fake marriage.” 
“Not to me,” he whispered, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes drifted up to his face. He was looking at your hand with a pained expression. For the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps the absence of your ring was upsetting to him. For so long, you had assumed that he just wanted to forget the whole thing. 
“I love you,” he whispered, “I always wanted you to be my wife.” 
You didn’t know what to say. For a minute, you hardly believed the words coming from his mouth. 
“I always wanted you to be my husband,” you whispered, leaning in towards him. You paused, your breath bouncing off of his lips. It reminded you of your first kiss, the familiarity of it shocking. 
You learned in and kissed him gently, a tender kiss to test the waters. You pulled away, unsure if this was what he wanted. The Doctor gripped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a much more urgent matter. You smiled against his mouth, melting into the kiss. 
“My wife,” he chuckled between the kisses he planted all over your face. 
“My husband.”
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sorrowfulrosebud · 6 months
Text
The soft grass underneath you and Katsuki provided comfort as the two of you laid close together, hands encompassed tightly as your shoulders touch.
Both pairs of eyes focused on the stars above you, yet your peripherals were trained on the other. You had managed to sneak away from the dorms in an unplanned rendezvous after curfew, knowing that Aizawa was gonna ground your asses. But, that was future you’s problem.
“Katsuki?” You asked softly, rubbing your thumb on his hand. Katsuki looked at you and let out a small “hm?”.
“Do you think… do you think we’re together in every universe?” You turn to look at him, your cheeks warm and gaze soft as you peek a gaze at your docile boyfriend.
His eyes widened a second before he pushes your cheeks close to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss before nosing your jawbone. His arm snakes under your neck as his large hands caress your shoulder, the other reaching your waist.
“Either way, I’d cross every damn universe there is and join us together. We’re the perfect couple in every dimension, universe and plane. I’d be stupid not to chase you,” he promises, squeezing you tighter to star gaze with you.
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The heavy metal of Katsuki’s armour proved too heavy for him to relax in, so it was left in a heap in the corner. The head knight had personally assigned him to be your royal guard, and the mutual (but forbidden) affections bloomed.
Carmine eyes were soft for once as his hair was gently pushed out of his face. His weary head rested in your lap as you held his calloused hand, pressing the occasional kiss. Your crown had been ditched, not caring for the silly trinket as you soaked up your lover’s attention in your chambers.
“Your majesty?” Katsuki coughed, cheeks growing slightly pink. You hummed in acknowledgment, slowing your movements as a silent means to continue.
“Do you think that, I mean… I’m not exactly of royal stature. If we were lovers in another universe, or if I were royalty and you were my bodyguard, would we still have this bond?” Katsuki asked, voice hushed as you petted him.
You gave his hand a kiss, before bending down and pressing your lips to his.
“Katsuki, even if we were two lowly peddlers in the street, or if you were a royal and I was your servant, then I would still pine after you until my dying breath,” you affirmed, softly petting his cheek.
“I knew you would say that, princess. It just hurts that somewhere, there’s a bastard me who gets to live our dream life without secrets.”
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Katsuki trudged through the door, toeing off his boots as he enters the carnage of the house. You looked so tired as you had managed to wrangle the quadruplets into their afternoon nap.
Despite the baby food in your hair, bodily fluids and coffee stains on his your ratty old T-Shirt, you had never looked more beautiful. You were at home, taking care of the babies YOU gave him, taking care of the home YOU wanted to provide for your family.
He owed his very existence and life to you, so he can feel his heart breaking as he sees you quickly wipe your exhausted tears. You smile wanly at him as you go to give him a hug, but grimace at the idea of hugging him in your current state.
“Oh I’m sorry baby, I look a mess right now. I’ll go clean up for you so I don’t look so gross,” you say, ready to go upstairs.
As you pull away, Katsuki pulls you tighter and kisses you firmly. Your resolve begins to crack as he feels you tremble in his arms.
“Katsuki, no. I’m filthy at the moment, you deserve better-,” you start as he shushes you.
“Baby, you could wear a bin bag and look better than any model in the entire world. You’re doing amazing to take care of our babies and do everything else,” he murmurs into your ear, fearing that if you tried pulling away then you would completely crumble.
“You’re working so hard though, you’re saving people’s lives and I’m here crying over a few toys on the floor, baby food in my hair and snot on my shirt,” you whimper, burying your face into his beefy chest.
“(Y/N), you just pushed 4 babies out of you. You quit your job so that our babies wouldn’t be left with strangers. You still manage to get the house tidy, but you know I only give a damn if you and the babies are alright. On top of that, you manage running any of MY errands that I didn’t manage to do. You’re a fucking superhero baby,” he murmurs, squeezing you tighter.
“But you deserve so much better! You deserve someone who has time to put makeup on and do their hair and, and-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki shushing you.
“Baby. I would choose this life over and over again, no matter what I was offered. I will always choose you, I will always find you, I will always want you. I’m taking time off work to prove that and we’re taking a holiday together,” he said firmly, wiping your tears as you hiccup.
“I’m always going to choose you too.”
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Katsuki and you sat comfortably on your porch bench, occasionally swinging as you nestled into each other. Today marked your 50 year anniversary, and the two of you chose a quiet celebration.
You had lost a lot of friends over the years; some were lost in villain raids, and some succumbed to their injuries years later. It wasn’t until Kirishima passed from a heart attack in the field did Katsuki retire, choosing to live the rest of his natural life with you. No more hero work. No more pain. No more villains or heroes. Just you two in your little country home with your chickens, cats and dog.
“Would you ever do it again?” Katsuki asked, his mouth lines trembling a little.
“Do what, sweetpea?” You ask, rubbing the soft loose skin on his hands. Katsuki sighed and looked away.
“Would you ever consider a different person? I’ve only ever caused you harm. My work, my personality, my overall being,” he asks, looking away as his mouth twitches. You let out a small “oh”.
“Never in a billion million years, my love. I chose you for a reason. I chose you because I love you, despite your flaws. We have had such a wonderful adventure together, some good moments and some bad. You’ve gained and lost a lot too, Katsuki. You’ve lost friends, mentors, family…” you reason with him, heart breaking at his shiny eyes.
“When it’s my time, I want to know that I made you utterly happy. I don’t want to leave you knowing that if you could have, you would have never had met me, never spoken to me and not have to deal with my baggage. I want to proudly say I lived my life fully and without regrets. YOU’RE my life baby,” he sobs softly, years of self-loathing catching up to his old and creaky body.
You wove your bodies tightly together, holding each other as the two of you shed loving tears together in bliss.
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“Katsuki? You okay, pup?” Katsuki’s sandy ears perked up as he sat upright in bed. You knuckled your eyes out of sleep as you looked at your mate. He was often plagued by nightmares, even after falling deeply in love with you, after being abandoned by his pack.
You, ever the kindly human, took him in. Fed him, sheltered him, cleaned his wounds. 2 years later and you were his mate, sole confidant and lover.
Katsuki panted a little, before snapping his head to you. His hackles were raised, teeth bared self-consciously as he tries to calm down. You held up your hands, showing you mean no ill will. Slowly, your hand extending to your mate’s ears, rubbing the soft spot between them as he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.
“Hmmm, thank you,” he muttered lowly. He rearranged himself on the pillow so he could face you. You smiled at him and kissed his nose, giggling when he goes cross-eyed.
“Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?” You asked quietly, petting his cheek as his tail whomped against the mattress. He huffed.
“Jus’ a stupid nightmare, nothing special,” he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your palm.
“I’m here if you need me, pup,” you told him, getting yourself comfortable again, trusting he would tell you.
“… my old pack got you. In my dream. We had a stupid argument, and I hurt you. You were killed,” he said quietly. Almost full of resentment. Your eyes widened, prompting him to continue.
“Are you happy with me? I mean, for fucks sake, I’m a fucking wolf-man creature and you’re a human. Our relationship is as unnatural as nature can allow, but we still play house,” he ranted lowly, fists clutching the sheets.
Your hand found its way to his, interlocking your digits and being mindful of his claws. Sandy ears pricked your way as you stroked his chest.
“I don’t care that you’re half man, half wolf. I love you for who you are, not what you are. I was aware of everything that you’ve faced, and I still chose to take you in. And I would do it a million times over,” you said firmly.
Katsuki let out a shaky sigh, before nuzzling into you.
“I hope in every universe we’re together.”
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lnfours · 6 months
Text
half of me, half of you | l.n
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summary: welcome to the world, baby norris <3 and welcome back to part 3 of this little universe we have going on here! 🩷 requested by anonymous: ‘Omg part three for forevermore??? Like the wedding and then maybe kids🫣’
warnings: pregnancy, surprises, hormones, lando finding out he’s going to be a girl dad 🥹, a whole lot of fluff n stuff
masterlist | ask box
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
“how much longer?” you asked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom. the brunette girl swiped down on her phone, displaying the timer she had set almost 2 minutes ago.
“30 seconds..” she trailed off, eyes meeting your nervous figure as you bounced your leg up and down. you sent her a soft smile back, beating yourself up for not taking a test sooner.
the past week you had felt terrible. felt like someone had hit you with a bus, thrown it in reverse and then backed up over you. your emotions were all over the place, you couldn’t keep anything down, and suddenly you were craving things you didn’t even like.
your suspicions had brought you to lily, your best friend. alex’s girlfriend, the girl you could rely on for anything.
the alarm of the timer echoed throughout the hotel bathroom. you jumped, eyes quickly moving to the box where the lily had shoved in the little white stick.
you felt like you were going to throw up again because of how the nerves were shaking through your body, “can you…?”
“you don’t wanna read it?”
you shook your head fast, “no, i’m scared,”
she frowned softly, kneeling in front of you, “whatever happens, whatever you decide, i love you and i’m here for you.”
you nodded, letting her hand you the box, “what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if he’s not on the same page? i mean we haven’t even really talked about kids yet, i-“
lily was quick to calm your rambling, coaching you to just breathe for a second. you nodded at her, following her direction as you sucked in a shaky breath.
“for as long as i’ve known lando, he’s always talked about wanting kids,” she said, “and it’s no secret that he wants them with you. he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise.”
you smiled softly down at the ring on your left hand, letting out a shaky, “you’re right,”
“usually am,” she smiled back at you as you both let out a laugh, “you ready?”
you nodded again, opening the box and fishing out the little white stick that was about to change your whole life. you flipped it over, turned it the right way around and read it over and over again.
it was positive. you were pregnant.
your silence was an answer in itself for lily as she smiled, cheering and hugging you as you let some of the tears fall down your cheeks and splash onto the marbled tile beneath you.
she had tears in her eyes as well, “you’re gonna be a mom!”
you smiled, letting out a soft laugh in disbelief, “i’m gonna be a mom,”
“the best one out there,” she smiled, pulling you up for a proper hug, “oh i’m so happy for you.”
you laughed again, thankful to have her in your life before you pulled away. you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “guess i should call my ob,” you said and she nodded quickly, “and figure out how i’m going to tell lando.”
lily hummed, “i’m sure you’ll think of something special.”
and you did. you were fiddling with the ring on your left finger, dressed in a black slip dress you had brought with you to the uk. silverstone was the best place on earth, his home race, where his friends were, his family.
and where you were about to tell him he was going to be a dad.
you had given lily the ‘ok’ to tell alex so that you had two people to make sure he would get to the surprise. they both didn’t waste any time, making it their top priority to get lando and bring him back to where you needed him as soon as possible.
you were seated on the blanket in the grass, looking up when you heard footsteps making their way to you. you looked up, the boy dressed in black with his signature white mclaren backwards cap catching your eye.
“hey,” he smiled, letting out a puff of air and looking around at the blanket you had set up, “alex and lily said you had something planned?”
you nodded, “come sit,”
he joined you on the blanket, careful not to knock over the gift box sitting in the middle. you smiled over at him, sensing his nerves.
“what’s up, love?”
you tilted your head towards the white box with a pretty bow on the top, “open it,”
he raised an eyebrow at you, “is something going to pop out at me?”
you laughed, “no! just open it,”
he sighed, complying as he kept it at a safe distance while he took the lid off. once the coast was clear, he reached his hand inside. he felt the plastic stick in his hand and what felt like a photo. he fished them out, eyes landing on the pregnancy test and the picture of the ultrasound you had to confirm that you were pregnant.
he gasped softly, immediately looking over at you before his eyes traveled down to your belly. he looked closely, now noticing the small bump that had formed. the one you had done a pretty damn good job of hiding from him for the past week and a half.
“baby,” he started, licking his lips as he sniffled softly, “are you being serious right now?”
you smiled, “deadly.”
he dropped the things back in the box, moving to carefully pull you in the tightest hug he could get you in, “i’m gonna be a dad.”
you nodded, pulling back and wiping under your eyes with the back of your hands, “yeah,”
“and you’re gonna be a mom,” he was really stating the obvious but it brought more tears to your eyes when he spoke, “you’re gonna be the best mom, baby.”
you kissed his cheek softly, “and you’re going to be the best dad.”
he smiled, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “i love you.”
“i love you.”
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
the months moved on and baby girl norris had finally entered the world, and lord did she have lando wrapped around her little finger already.
from the moment the two met, the nurses handing the little pink blanket over to him, it was game over. her big eyes, which resembled yours, looking straight up at him and her happy gurgles had his heart exploding as he looked down at his baby girl.
“hi, angel,” he cooed, fingers softly brushing against her skin over the tiny little moles and freckles that littered her skin, “oh, you’re perfect.”
you smiled over at your now husband, watching the two interact, “she is,”
he looked up at you, “and so are you, baby,”
you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he sat next to you with the little girl in his arms. she was starting to struggle to stay awake, barely keeping her eyes open.
the two of you watched in contentment, his eyes a little watery before he looked back over at you, “we made that,”
you let out a soft chuckle, “we did a good job, yeah?”
he laughed with you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we did,” he said, “i think you did all the heavy lifting, though. i was just here for the ride,”
you laughed, meeting his eyes, “mm, true,”
he smiled back with that same boyish grin to you, releasing a soft breath, “guess we should probably name her, huh?”
you hummed, “still like the one we had picked?”
he looked down now at the little girl in his arms who now had her eyes closed, sometime during your conversation she had fallen asleep. she was so peaceful and perfect and everything he loved about you wrapped up into one tiny little human. a tiny little human he got to create with you, the other half of his beating heart.
“i do, yeah,” he nodded, “welcome to the world wren norris.”
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
you made your way up the stairs, a smile spreading on your face as you heard the little girls’ giggle coming from her bedroom. you leaned up against the door way, trying hard not to snicker at your husband who had found himself joining your daughter and her stuffed animals for a tea party.
you watched the two talk about tea and serve them to the dolls and stuffed animals sitting in their respective chairs for a couple minutes before you walked into the room.
“hey, baby,” lando said when you knelt down next to him, giving you the biggest smile, “joining us for some tea?”
“for a bit sure,” you smiled, “everyone will be here soon.”
“oh, mommy, look!” wren said excitedly, “daddy and i drew a picture for you.”
“oh, yeah?” you asked, watching the girl grab the piece of paper, “what is it?”
“we drew daddy’s race car!” she smiled brightly back at you.
you took the piece of paper, noticing the three other stick-figure men in the picture, another one in orange, one in blue and one in red.
“and you drew uncle carlos, oscar and danny?”
she nodded, “it was daddy’s idea.”
you laughed softly at your grinning husband, rolling your eyes playfully, “of course it was.”
you spent some time with you little family, letting them tell you all about their afternoon tea session with mr bear, kitty and mrs froggie, all the stuffed animals sitting in their respective seats.
you grabbed lando’s arm softly, pulling it towards you to read the time on his watch, “we gotta get you ready, wren. everyone’s gonna be here soon!”
she smiled, “can i still wear my princess dress?”
“of course, love,” you smiled. she happily jumped from her seat and ran off to her closet. you looked over at your husband, a smile still on both of your faces.
while you helped change wren into her princess dress, lando had started greeting those who had come to help celebrate your daughter’s third birthday.
it wasn’t long until the little girl left your side, immediately running over to her favorite uncle, “uncle max!”
you smiled when he bent down, picking her up and she squealed happily, “there’s the birthday girl!”
he tickled her sides playfully, her laughter booming as you joined your husband, his arm wrapping around your waist.
“did you get a pony this year?” he asked and you both snickered as wren shook her head.
“mommy said no,” she said, “but she said i could get a puppy!”
“a puppy?!”
you looked over at lando, “i said maybe,”
lando shrugged, “i know you’ll crack.”
“oh she has you wrapped around her finger, mate,” max laughed, looking back at the little girl he was holding, “don’t ya little one?”
“easy, fewtrell,” you laughed, “don’t give her ideas.”
he laughed softly, the little girl going back to her dad to say hi to her uncle alex and aunt lily, leaving you and max standing in the kitchen. he pulled you into his side, giving you a squeeze, “how’re you? i mean, other than enjoying being a mom.”
you laughed, “i’m good,” you let out of a soft breath, “where’s p?”
“she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me to say hi to everyone.”
you frowned, “damn, tell her i said hi and that i hope she feels better.”
he nodded, “i will,”
you both trailed off as you watched lando and alex playfully chase wren, trying to see who could pick her up first, “so, a puppy, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, “it was all him! not me,”
he laughed, “sounds about right, he’d do anything for that little girl.”
you smiled, watching your husband and daughter laugh as alex and lily talked with the birthday girl, asking her questions that made her giggle in response, “he would, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”
1K notes · View notes
mntalbrakdown · 10 months
Text
sober thoughts - C. Fisher
masterlist!
mentions of: underage drinking, cussing, fluff, smut. MDNI. piv, unprotected sex, fingering
synopsis: you were once friends with conrad until summer happened and he just stopped talking to you
wc: 5.7k
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“don’t ever forget me” your little twelve-year-old self whispered to Conrad who was a year older than you
“never,” he said playing with your hair as you both lay on the grass watching the fireworks on the fourth of July. your head laying on his chest.
“y/n are you almost ready” Belly yelled at you trying to get you to hurry up for the party you were about to go to with her and Taylor
“yes almost,” you say playing with your hair and making sure each strand is not misbehaving
“chill belly being hot takes time,” Taylor says applying more lip gloss
“anyways y/n how are you and Conrad” Taylor puts away her lip gloss in her purse
“he’s an ass and I don’t even talk to him,” you said
“What did you even do,” Belly asked playing with the ends of her hair
“I don’t know we were really close in Cousins and like two years ago in summer I started to get guys' attention and all of a sudden he got distant,” you said reminiscing the best summer of your whole life you told the girls you pulled 6 boys the whole summer but that came at a cost, losing the one guy you loved
“you had a glow-up,” Taylor says looking at you and holding your hand
“yeah, she did” you see Jeremiah at Belly’s door frame which made you smile. they've been flirting back and forth
“are we ready,” Belly asked and you nodded
you all headed downstairs to see Susannah and Laurel in the kitchen probably stoned and said goodbye to them. when you arrived at the car Belly called shotgun which meant you and Taylor would sit in the back of Jeremiah’s Jeep.
“so y/n you're the driver tonight right” Jeremiah looked at you from the rearview mirror
“when am I not” you scoff looking out the window. it wasn’t a rude remark it was a sarcastic one because you don’t really do any substances. so it was common sense that you would drive
everyone in Cousins lived close to one another so it didn’t take long to hear the loud music and the screams coming from a house. the house was already spilling bright colors on the street making you excited. when Jeremiah finally parked he handed you the keys because one time he held onto them and lost them. it was a whole ordeal, you spent an extra hour at the house trying to find them when he had them in a random coat that was hung up by the front door.
“hey Steven is here” Taylor pointed out to his car seeing that they also just got here.
“who’s that next to him,” Belly asks as you were getting out of the car looking at your phone for any new notifications when you accidentally bump into a tall stature
“oh sorry,” you both say looking at each other
"con what is wrong with you" you yelled at him. it was no use when he was in his own world he stayed there for at least a week. usually, you could get him out, but something was different that summer, you couldn't change him
"leave me alone" Conrad yelled at you, he was running up the stairs and the next thing you heard was his door closed shut. it was hard to miss, it echoed all over the house
"I'm so sorry for him," Susannah said.
the plan that day was to go watch a movie that was playing in the drive-in and then play at the beach with the whole group and watch the tide as you and Conrad listened to the music and possibly help you surf. but all that went down the drain and you didn't even know why.
“conrad” you say looking to meet his gaze.
“Conrad is here, y/n let’s go, no,” Taylor says screaming ready for you to get into the car making him laugh which you missed hearing
“Taylor it’s ok,” you say as she is getting out of the car with a stank face already plastered on
“hi Conrad,” she says moving her way in between the two of you and grabbing your hand to drag you to the party
as you were getting dragged into the party you were greeted by a group of people already by the door and a couple making out at the end of the hall
“hey I'm going to go get a drink” Taylor yells at you trying to get her voice to be heard over the music. you on the other hand were ready to go to the living room just to people watch
the thing was when you were at parties you would straight b-line to the living room because although people liked to conversate, that is the last place they would go. You liked to sit there and try to find other drivers there and you would make friends with them. It was hard to talk to a drunk person because they were boring and slur their words together. Today you saw Cameron, he is always there. You grew to like him like it was hard to anyway. He was so nice and you both had things in common.
"hey" you heard his little smile in his voice
"hi cam," you say receiving a bottle of water he got you
"so who are you here tonight with" cam asked you
"Jeremiah, Taylor, and Belly," you say
"so Conrad is still being weird," cam asked
"yeah," you said a bit disappointed. you told Cam everything because he was there and being sober at a party is pretty boring
"that's weird because he is staring at us," Cam says looking over at him; making you follow his gaze. Conrad had this weird look on his face, his eyes were dark, but it wasn't because of the lighting it was something else. hatred? you brushed it off he isn't your problem, never will be.
"y/n want to play uno" Conrad yelled at you from the bottom of the stairs.
Uno was your favorite game to play at Susannah's house in the summer. It was always perfect. The adults were never there so it would make you feel comfortable with everyone else. It was when you would sit next to Conrad before he was unavailable and you two would team up without everyone knowing. In reality, everyone knew. and you both would win. you would take turns on who would win to make it seem "less" suspicious.
"so" cam says snapping you from your haze
"right duh" you laugh grabbing the mini uno you would always carry it around because it helped you make friends with people
"ooo can we play" Some random girls joined in and you said yes because you had no real reason to say no, plus uno is best played with more than two
"I'll join too," Conrad says gripping his beer rather firmly. he sat next to you on the couch ready to get the cards you shuffled.
when the games began you kept beating everyone. the games were simple, leave the best cards until the very end, unless and only if you ever need them, then go for it.
bzzz bzzz
you quickly checked the notification that came from your phone trying to not miss what was going on in the game.
"who is it" conrad asks his jaw clenching
"no one," you say giving him a weak smile, it was also none of his business because he doesn't care about you anymore
"sure" Conrad says putting a plus four that is directed towards you. so this is how he wanted to play the game? you grabbed the four cards, getting nothing that would help you against him. it was Cam's turn and he put reverse to try to protect you from Conrad
"your little boyfriend is now your new buddy," Conrad questioned under his breath
"not like you give a shit" you retort back
"you are so clueless," Conrad says making you the most confused person at the party. you just continued to play after the game ended you decided you wanted a coke. so you got up and told Cam you would be back for another round
you walked through crowded groups and at one point you saw Belly makeout with Jeremiah. taking note of that to bring up later. You than saw Taylor with another man who looked like three years older than her. When you finally got your coke you opened it taking a sip going back to the couch
"oh fuck" you let out spilling some of the coke onto your white tube top.
"sorry" you hear a familiar voice come out it was Conrad.
"we have to stop doing this or else we might actually get hurt," you say smiling at the way Conrad was trying to get napkins to clean the mess up. It was no use. your shirt was ruined.
"it's the universe trying to get us together" Conrad blurted out "I'm drunk" he tried to fix the situation, but he was never drunk, he was only ever tipsy.
"drunk words are just sober thoughts" you say looking down at your shorts to see if they were dirty.
"can we talk" conrad asks looking down at you
"yeah" you smile at him
he grabbed your hand and led you outside to the front yard where there were only a couple of people out. he saw that the stain on your shirt only got worse so he gave you his button-up shirt that he never lets go of.
"what's up," you say to him
"the stars look beautiful don't they" conrad was looking up
as a kid, you were obsessed with the moon and the stars. you had a friend that was the stars to your moon. you missed her, and you kept in touch but if you could you would bring her to Cousins. you would always talk about her to the others, knowing they would love her as well. You also face-timed her all the time. Conrad would get mad, saying that you were his for the summer and that she has you all year round. that she was selfish
"it's my time," Conrad says to your friend who was on your phone screen
"con give me my phone," you say slapping him and tugging at his hand
"it's summer byeee" he says as he pressed the red button on the phone
"i hate you," you say to him
"in your sweet dreams you do," he says cockily
"Conrad I thought this was going to be more of a serious conversation," you say trying to shake the idea of the summers you once had with the man standing in front of you
"I miss you," he says to you. sober thoughts. it took you aback it wasn't something you expected from him
"that isn't my fault," you say back with an attitude
"i know, i just got jealous" he said to you
"jealous of what con" he could have grabbed you and kissed you on the spot. he missed that name from your mouth. he craved it every day to the point he would replay voice memos you would send to him back when you two would speak
"of other guys," he said looking into your eyes to see if he scared you off, but all he saw was your face brightening up
"you were the only person on my mind con," you said to him grabbing his hand. if this was a dream, never wake him up. "you were the only thing coming out of my mouth when I was at school, all the guys that you saw hit me up are left on seen, I wanted you, I want you, I always have" you say looking at his face finally tug at his lips to form a smile
"good because I don't want to share," he says leaning down ready to kiss you. As he did he wrapped one arm around your waist the other in your hair tugging at it as you were smiling through the kiss and your hands on both his cheeks.
"get a room" Steven yelled at you two, leading Conrad to release the hand that was in your hair and flipping him off. making you laugh while you both kissed.
"let's get out of here," Conrad said to you
"i can't," you said, you had a job
"fuck the others Steven can drive them," he said in a way that he just wanted you to be by his side
"but how will they get home" you try to reason
"Steven has his keys c'mon let's go to my house, please" he kisses the top of your forehead.
"fine, but if they complain that is your fault," you say pointing at him
"that is fine by me," he says carrying you to spin you around
as you two were getting in the Jeep you started to fasten your seatbelt as Conrad did the same. He looked over at you, seeing how you adjusted the mirrors to get all the angles.
"I think this is the first time I see you drive," he says admiring you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear
"get used to it con," you say looking at him, melting at his touch
"Oh I will" he whispered
you started the car, you hated driving the Jeep it was so big and excessive. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You played some music in the car for the six-minute car ride. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you the whole time, seeing how you turned and how you checked the mirrors.
as you arrive at their house you park the car and let him get out, you were collecting your things in the car to get out when Conrad opens the door for you.
"thank you" you smile, he closes the door behind you and you lock the car. he holds your hand as he heads over to the front door to open it
"hi conrad" you hear Susannah
"hi y/n nice seeing you two together again," Laurel says from the couch
"glad to be back" you smile at the two adults
"oh you are so beautiful, we missed you," Susannah said
"thank you I missed you too" you smile and let go of Conrad's hand to hug her. She was always so sweet to you
"Mom, she's mine back off, we're going to my room" Conrad says taking your hand again
"bye talk to you guys later" you scream as Conrad is dragging you upstairs
once you got upstairs you see Conrad's door. he opened it with his free hand and led you in. It was still the same. the beach aesthetic and the colors. He had the plush you gave him. it was an orange cat with a pink collar, you named it Lasnaga and you had an orange cat with a blue collar named Garfield. it was funnier when you actually named them.
"oh ignore that" he said looking at the cat
"you still have it" you question, a smile forming on your face
"yeah" it looked like he slept with it and he even still had the perfume you gifted him it was now half empty
"I miss you" you heard from the other line of your phone
"I miss you too," you say back, it was almost Christmas and it was a time when you wished you could go to Cousins, but your mom would say no. "I got you a Christmas present," you say smiling through the camera lens
"yeah, I got it, thank you" One of the gifts was a perfume bottle, it smelled like vanilla and it was your go-to scent "Thank you" Conrad says
"I don't use that scent anymore," you say picking it up
"what" Conrad looked defeated, he was spraying that scent to remember you and you switched scents. he felt betrayed
"I'll get you a new one for Christmas" You smile at him grabbing his hands which made his smile come back
"y/n" he grabbed your attention using his pointer finger to make you look at him
"yes con" one moment you were just staring at his eyes the next thing you knew Conrad was leaning in to kiss you. this kiss was more meaningful as if to pick up from lost time, from the time that was wasted on jealousy and insecurity, because even though it wasn't official that you were Conrad's, you both knew you were meant for one another
Conrad's hands went back to their respective place, one in your hair and the other around your waist. yours were on his cheek and the other in his hair.
"fuck I missed you," he says catching his breath from the kiss
conrad went back but deepened the kiss, it was something that made you happy. You kept smiling through the kiss. you couldn't believe this was happening. Conrad pulled at your hair to make you moan so he could slip his tongue in and fight for dominance, he obviously won; you were still smiling throughout the make out because you couldn’t believe what was happening. Conrad guided you to his bed, he sat on the corner making you straddle his lap.
"are you ok with this," Conrad asked pulling away from the kiss, you could see some of your lipstick on his mouth
"yes, god fuck yes Conrad," you say giggling at the way his face quickly erased his worriedness to pure excitement
Conrad continued his attack, but this time it was on your neck, making sure it would show to others that you were his, that even though people haven't seen you both together for almost two years, you guys are better than ever. Conrad tugged and took off the button-down that he gave you and the dirty tube top. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, and Conrad couldn't be more excited
Conrad carried you off the bed for a second and laid you down on his bed. your hair was perfectly sprawled on the pillow as if it made a halo. Conrad could’ve sworn he saw a little heart that was made from your hair. as you waited for Conrad to take his shirt you got the cat to play around with.
"you're so beautiful," Conrad says going down to kiss you
when he pulls away he takes off your shorts and shoes followed by your socks making you giggle at his fast antics. you were wearing a lace thong that was pink making Conrad smile.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours,” you say reaching for Conrad's face as he melts into your touch, practically purring.
"you, you're all I think about" Conrad says smiling at you his hand traveling down to your thighs removing your panties too, and then he feels how wet you already are. he licked his two fingers as a lubricant and started to finger you. he slipped two fingers in seeing how tight you were and kept pacing in and out. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to his room. he looked at your face seeing how it contoured to the way the rhythm, then added more stimulation by massaging your clit.
"fuck Conrad, so good," you say almost screaming as you scratch his back with your nails
"shhh, look at me" Conrad says covering your mouth, but he loved the way your eyes looked at him "Sound so pretty but they can't hear you or the fun is over," he says leaning in to kiss you to muffle your screams.
Conrad soon leaves your mouth to go to your tits to suck on as you grab his hair for extra support. you tugged once and heard a yelp, making you want to fuck him already
he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. As he did you gasped, you kept your nails on his back almost drawing blood. conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the process up. he needed you.
“god you’re so tight” he says looking at you with lust filled eyes
Conrad added a third finger as he saw you were about to release and reattached his lips onto yours wanting the fun to continue. he saw the way your body arched off the bed and made sure to continue the pace you were on. to make you orgasm
“look so pretty, come for me” he said spurring you on
“fuck conny” you say pulling at his hair to kiss you and something inside you snapped when he kissed you. you were leaking off his finger. when he looked down in between the two of you he saw the mess grabbing some of your liquid and putting it in your mouth
“fuck so hot” he said going in to kiss you tasting you as well
“my turn” you say with your fucked up makeup and some of your cum on the side of your mouth
“no i just really need you right now” conrad says taking his pants and underwear off as well as everything else.
“i want to be on top” you say to him biting the bottom of your lip
“whatever you want pretty girl” he says grabbing you and putting you on top of him
once you were on top of him you saw how big he was. you grabbed his member massaged him than started to glide him into your heat seeing how he threw his head back in pure pleasure
“stop teasing” he said grabbing onto your wrists and leading his length to your heat
“fuck fisher” you said mad he took all the fun out
“i’m trying to” he retorted making you laugh but that made you sink into him and turned into a loud pornagraphic moan making Conrad startled soon hearing footsteps leading to the door and a knock
“conny is everything ok” you could hear Susannah but this made the experience even better you fucked him up and down side to side to try to make it hard for him to answer his mom
“y-yeah everything is good there’s a porn scene on the horror movie we were watching- fuck” he said yelling to his mom
“oh ok” she says retreating backstairs
“you’re so dead” conrad said to you, but he never meant it. you looked so beautiful riding him as your boobs bounced up and down and saw how your hair was messily parted to the side and fell beautifully over your body. he knew you knew you looked great by the way you bit the bottom of your lip
“god you’re so big” you say looking down at him. putting your hand on his chest for extra support
he couldn’t help admire you. how your tits would go up and down and he had to massage them with his hand. the other was on your waist wanting you to go faster, but he just made your body lay against his as he took your lips with his teeth. his hand that was once on your tits went to your hair and tugged on it earning a low moan from you. the other traced his name on your back adding tickles to make you moan and hopefully come close. once he noticed your body become sloppy he held onto your waist and switched positions with him
“holy fuck that was hot” you said out loud to him
“only for you” he says leaning into your neck to suck on your sweet spot making you moan even more
he saw the way your hair fell back on his pillow. the image he once had of you will forever be tainted by this memory. the memory of him fucking you into oblivion. how his penis would go in and out of you seeing his length covered in white paint from the two of you
he didn’t know that you liked the way his hair fell from his forehead and floated in the air as he fucked you. how his arms would be veiny and how you followed them like a dog to bacon. that every time he wanted to show you something you just looked at his hands.
“fuck me harder” you said to Conrad as you dragged his face to yours to go in for a kiss. he took his free hand and started to massage your clit wanting you to come already.
“come for me again, want to see you come on my dick” he said so close to your face that his hair tickled you, his breath as well. “need you to come for me” his blue eyes following yours and how they were sparkling from pure euphoria
with one last thrust you came for him. his lips covering your mouth and when you were done moaning. his mouth was on your chin ready for another hickey. he nibbled at it. when his thrusts started to become sloppy you started to nibble at his ear. moaning in it to spur him on and saying sweet nothings like “god you’re so big” “taking me so good” “fuck me just like that”
“im yours conny, only yours” was the one that made him shoot his load into you
“oh fuck i’m so sorry” he said as he still kept thrusting into you coming down from his high
“don’t worry about it i’m on the pill” you say looking at his fucked out face and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear
he leaned in to kiss you deepening the kiss he felt the cum that was leaking outside the two of you. when he was ready to let go you bit the bottom of his lip to see what he would do
“god you’re all i need” Conrad said going back to kiss you. when you both got out of breathe he went into his bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up
“you look beautiful from this angle” Conrad looked at you wanting to take a picture of the way your legs were open for him as the liquid oozed out of you
“get used to it” you said to him as he cleaned you up. he smiled at the thought that this wasn’t a one time thing
“oh i will” he says going to your face and peppering your face with kisses all over
he went over to a drawer he had always designated to you. it had some clothes that you left there when you would stay over. he handed you some shorts you always wore when you were here that did nothing but show your ass, but they were cute; they were white with pink polka dots and tossed you a shirt that was Conrad’s but you always used to use it because it was baggy and had your home state with it.
“i don’t want to wear that shirt today” you said
“what why” Conrad asked puzzled he didn’t do anything to that shirt
“you wear it, not in the mood to wear a shirt” you say to him mischievously. he took the hint as he was putting on some shorts and was ready to go under the covers of his bed making you follow behind
“than neither am i” he said kissing your forehead “some makeup wipes are on the nightstand by the way” he says pointing at the drawer next to you
“thank you” you say taking one and wiping your face off when you were done you threw it away in the trash can that was next to you
“so you never forgot me did you” you asked as you were going to cuddle his chest
“no never” he said looking down at you as he was turning the tv on to watch superbad one of your favorites
“and you never forgot about my things did you” you say giddily seeing what he was doing
“nope, i watched this every time i missed you” he said it as a matter of fact
“kiss me” you say out loud. and he did he leaned down to kiss you as you waited for the movie to load in. he was so delicate this time as if what he did was not him and someone else. that he would always be delicate with you
“you’re all i ever wanted” he said whispering it into you making you smile as the movie played.
you both laughed at the scenes. this movie has seen it all: your childhood, Conrad being by himself without you , and the two of you after you fucked each other. when another funny scene happened and you didn’t laugh Conrad looked down to see you asleep in his arms. your boobs were pressed against his chest and he decided it was time for him to go to sleep as well.
in the morning it was Conrad who woke up first from the rays of the sun. he then saw his clock and saw that it was only 9 am. he decided to just look at you sleep. how you would breathe and how you looked in his arms. the little smile on your face as your dream progressed. god he wished that was him making you smile. Conrad reached for his phone to take a picture of you. knowing this would be a perfect wallpaper. the way the hickeys he left on you were now visible. how you had no makeup but your hair was still as perfect as it was last night and this time noticing the locket necklace he got you from when you were kids on your thirteenth birthday
“thank you Conrad” you say hugging him once you finished opening the box that held the necklace. it was a picture of the two of you from when you were younger when you were both about seven and six.
“you’re welcome. you were practically begging for one all year” he said glad you liked his gift and ever since than you never took it off
he was infatuated with you.
“i’ll never forget you” Conrad whispered into your hair kissing the top of your head
“hey” you say in a raspy voice
“morning” he said back with a big grin on his face
“smells good” you could smell the muffins from downstairs. making Conrad laugh. he looked at you for about thirty minutes admiring you and the first thing you think about is food? “you look pretty con” you said kissing his lips. his hair was messy and his eyes were brighter today. he looked happy.
“so do you” he said smiling at you. if only you knew.
“what time is it” you ask finally rubbing your eyes. when you were done Conrad gave you his phone to look at the clock but the first thing you saw was you. the photo he took this morning. “con did you take this right now” you asked looking into his eyes
“yes do you like it” he asked looking to see if you were mad but he only saw a smile form on your face
“it’s cute i need one now too” you say trying to let go of his grip to get up and get a muffin
“no stay” he says grumpy
“i need one of those muffins, i’ll come back” you say prying at his hands
“fine i’ll race you” he says getting up and trying to find a shirt as you do the same when you did. you ran out the door fighting Conrad downstairs almost falling like ten times.
“woah” you here from downstairs
“i thought we were going to go into war right now” Jeremiah joked
“shut up” Conrad said hitting Jeremiah’s chest
“oh hey y/n didn’t know you were still here” Laurel said
“yeah I accidentally fell asleep to superbad” you say which wasn’t a lie. it was hard to lie to Laurel she could smell bullshit from a mile away.
“wait what happened between you guys” Taylor asked looking at your neck making you hide your hickeys with your hair
“nothing, we just made up” you said looking at her and the last muffin
“more like made out” Belly added which made you send her a death stare which caused you to lose the muffin to Conrad
“fuck you” you whisper to him
“oh but you already did” he said with the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he eats the muffin. when you hit his stomach he hands over the muffin with a loud groan
“thank you” you say kissing him
“eww get a room” Jeremiah said
“we just came out of one” Conrad said as quick as the speed of light making you look at him with wide eyes
“I missed this” Susannah said “y’know ever since you left y/n he has never been this chipper”
“is that so” you say looking at Conrad all this time you thought he was fine especially with all the girls he dated
“so true” Steven added
“we missed you” Belly said. she meant it in the way you could finally be in the same room as all of them without having to walk on eggshells “also Cam told me to give you this” it was your uno cards from the other night
“thank you” you smile at her
“give me another bite” Conrad said as he wraps his arms around your waist and you practically feed him “thank you” he said which followed by an mhm coming from your mouth
“want to go to the beach later” you asked looking up at him to see if he would agree or not
“sure” he replied. making you already excited and smiling back at the muffin before taking a bite and feeding another piece to Conrad
“can we go at night” he questioned
“and skinny dip” you whispered for only him to hear which made him already look forward to see the moon.
“this is seriously cute” Taylor says to Belly who nods
“i love you” Conrad said to you kissing the top of your head as he saw how everyone was so welcoming of the new couple
“i love you more” you say looking up at him which made him kiss you
—-
a/n: part two..??
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