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writingcold · 11 months

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Welcome to Chapter One and Two of Best Laid Plans!

A/N: This is not an easy story to read. I feel I need to say that up front. This follows Jake and Amanda across a twenty year journey when the story is fully told. It is an AU, set during the 1980’s, though the era plays very subtly in the story itself. This is a sad, angsty read with little pockets of happiness and tenderness.

The story is a simple one - Jake and Amanda fall in love over the course of a summer before her first semester of college. But for all of their planning, their young love takes a turn and sets them both on a course that is not the path they could never have expected. It is the first story in a long time that I have tried to write in first person - a little different!

I’ll be posting in two chapter increments, every Wednesday. At least that is the current plan! BLP is a finished work, so there will be no disruption in postings.

This is a complete fiction - totally made up. I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF. That said, this story is mine. Please respect that.

A tremendously huge thank you to @takenbythemadness for being my eyes on this. She took so many bullets as I honed this story into what it is. I owe her drinks and lots of boxes of tissues. 💚Love you, my friend.

Content warnings: Angst. Pregnancy. Poverty.

Word count: approx. 9700

Chapter 1: December, 1981: Amanda POV

My feet could not be still. They bounced and kicked, shimmied and banged against the counter and stool of Blaine’s Diner. My heart felt like it was going a million times a minute in a threat to jump out of my chest as I tried like hell to keep a calm exterior. Cindy watched me as she moved around, filling cups and ushering plates in and out of the kitchen. Her bright smile seemed to curve all the more every time she drew close to me, coffee pot in hand in a silent ask if I needed more. The answer, of course, was always a nod. My fingers would instantly wrap around the warmth of the putty colored mug as the stream of molten liquid refreshed the pottery.

“Jake must be getting home, yeah?” Cindy asked as she worked to make fresh coffee. “Did you have a good semester?”

“It was fantastic,” I answered, my body practically vibrating over the notion that his name had been uttered around me. “Jake got in last night, actually, so…”

A soft laugh warmed my skin as she reached over and patted my arm. “It’ll be good to see you together again. I’ve got a good feeling about you two.”

Cindy had had a front row seat to the burgeoning romance that was between me and Jake. We had spent countless hours within Blaine’s, downing coffee and spinning plans the likes only new love could create. She flitted off to help another table, leaving me alone in my excitement. Jake had been my high school crush. I was new to town my freshman year and my eyes landed on him the very first day of school. He was a senior, forced to show new students around. Although he was nice through the whole tour, I could see how he was annoyed by the end. I had stayed towards the back of the group of eight kids, just listening to him explain the layout, giving little hints about how the bell schedule seemed to give us an extra minute between the fourth and fifth periods, which teachers were cool and which were not, and when to avoid the school lunch. He held the door open for us when it was time to get back to the office. When I passed him, he smiled. It wasn’t one of those mean ‘hurry up so I can get away from you all’ smiles either. He was not the cutie pie high school boy. He wasn’t tall, dark and handsome, either. He was only a bit taller than me, with his shaggy hair all unkempt and dark eyes positively glittering as he had smiled the kind of smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth more than the other. He and his twin brother, Josh, were not the most popular, but they seemed to be everywhere and attached to everything - together.

I carried that smile with me all through that year. It was stupid and girlish, but despite all the typical teen drama that happened, seeing Jake smile brought me a comfort that I did not understand at the time. I would run into him during drama and band classes, as well as all the different productions that we put on that year. I was a little distraught when he graduated. He had plans of going to Loyola on a music scholarship, while his twin was headed to New York for film school.

My youthful angst over not seeing Jacob Kiszka was fierce as the summer expired and the new school year started. My friends were loud and obnoxious and full of being sixteen, or close to it. I was the first to get my license and thus drove everyone everywhere - including parties, practices and games. I had my first kiss that year by Robbie Parker. Am I embarrassed that I pictured that it was actually Jake giving me that kiss - just a little. Robbie was sweet, but my heart belonged elsewhere.

My crush only increased over the remaining years of school. The Kiszka family was incredibly tight knit. Jake would be there for nearly every play (maybe not opening night, but at least be there for one performance), and every big event for his siblings. Senior year was my year to wonder. The last of his siblings had graduated. I was still carrying the torch, though. I could not really explain why. I did see him in passing during the holidays while I was gift shopping with Jenni and Mel. But it was at Martin’s during Spring Break that had left me breathless as I smacked right into him as I was leaving and he was walking in. I was so embarrassed that I didn’t even look back after he tried to make sure I was okay. All I could think was how good he smelled. Ugh.

I was at Marni’s graduation party when the friends decided they had had enough of the adults having all the fun and wanted to head out to the river for the rest of the night. There were rumors of a bonfire and keg. We piled into my ancient microbus and bounced our way down to the other side of the golf course, out into the woods where no one lived. By the time we got out to the party, it was all swamped with football players and jocks of all kinds, along with cheerleaders, band geeks, and the Kiszkas. My eyes pasted themselves instantly to Jake as he stood talking with Josh and Sam along with a few from my class. I tried to be normal. I really did. I swear I was not gawking, but Jake looked different that night. He looked like a man with his hair pulled back and scruff on his chin. Marni practically threw me under my own bus when she screamed - full assed screamed - a hello in their direction. Fortunately, everyone just chalked it up to Marni being Marni, probably drunk off her butt and it was only 10:20 in the evening.

We danced around the bonfire and dug our toes in the river mud and laughed when people started to fall into the icy water. As the night wound down, I noticed that Jake was close to my group, his eyes straying to me. Me. I chanced a smile and a hello.

“Amanda, right?” he asked as he smiled that smile that I had held dear for four years.

“Yeah. Jake, right?” I mimicked with a way more confident nod than I realized. I heard Marni start to downright cackle as he took my hand.

“Happy graduation,” he said with a smile, completely ignoring my obnoxious friend.

We fell into conversation immediately. He was all about Chicago and what he was learning. He wanted to know my plans - where I was planning on heading off to for school or otherwise. Our conversation was like breathing. Our words were normal and filled with fun and laughter and something that I would come to realize was promise by the end of the summer. We had traded numbers at the end of the night. I watched as he wrote his number on my forearm - the way he held my wrist and blew against the ink to make sure it didn’t smudge. He stood in the road as I drove my half passed out friends into the dawn’s light and called me two hours later to say good morning.

The summer had been magical. Every moment I wasn’t working at the grocery and he wasn’t working at Martin’s Music, we were together. It was like Jake and I were magnets that needed to be together. My parents were a little concerned about how much time I was spending with him and voiced it after they caught us making out behind the dugout on the school baseball fields. Jake found himself in a long conversation with my dad without me present. That was weird.

When summer was screaming to a close, my whole being was amped up to eleven. I was getting ready for school and things got serious. I was in love. I knew it. I voiced it. I had never said ��I love you’ to anyone besides my family. I was rewarded with silence. Just when I thought my heart couldn’t take it, he kissed me. Jake kissed me and held me and treasured me and lulled me, and finally set me on fire with words of love the likes I was sure no one had heard pass his lips before.

Instead of dreading what was to come, we planned. We planned every instance of every week, planning for calls, planning for visits during the holidays, planning for the future. When we parted - me to Dearborne and him to Chicago - we had an idea of what our schedule would look like. We spent the last days wrapped up with each other. We were happy. We talked about the future and how it looked for us. We decided, together, that we could flourish.

College had not been as easy as I thought it would be. My schedule was crazy and hard and I had no one to turn to but myself. Jake called me at the dorm every Tuesday and Saturday afternoon. We’d write. Before I knew it, mid-terms were kicking my ass and Thanksgiving was right around the corner. Though I had hoped that he would make it home, the possibility of him picking up a week’s worth of gigs had become a reality and too good to pass up. So, we promised that the holidays would be extra special. That was what had led me to be in Blaine’s, waiting for Jake.

“Just the Two of Us” started to pipe through the radio. The happiness in my body doubled. Cindy paused as I could no longer hide the smile that graced my mouth. She took a chocolate chip cookie from the tray and set it before me with a wink.

“If that boy doesn’t get here soon, I’m afraid you’re going to explode,” she teased. “That’s on me because if it gets any sweeter, I’m going to go into a coma.”

The chime on the door filled my ears and I felt his gravity pulling me - all of me - with force. Jake walked through the door and I knew everything was… off. His eyes sparked for a moment like usual, but then it was gone. He walked slowly, his body rigid like he was dreading to talk to me. Cindy was waiting at the counter for him. The look in her eye matched my own. The happy that had been in my gut turned to steel wasps as he paused with a hard swallow.

“Can I get a coffee, please?” he asked, his voice halting.

“How about menus?” Cindy asked as she reached for a fresh mug.

“Just the coffee today, thanks,” he said softly, his gaze shielded. “Would it be all right if we sat in that booth over there?”

Cindy nodded with a smile that did not meet her eyes. I watched as he grabbed hold of my mug and walked away without a touch, a smile, anything that would convey the warmth that should have been present. I felt my once excited feet shuffle forward. The apprehension that poured out of my brain, I could taste it in my mouth. He may not have waited for me at first, but he did wait until I arrived at the table before he sat down across from me. He barely could hold my gaze as he seemed to find it difficult to get comfortable.

“You look good,” he said, finally after taking several sips of his coffee. “How’s your family?”

“They are well. Grandma should be getting in tomorrow with Aunt Rose from their trip from Florida,” I said, attempting to sound like I did not notice how he seemed to skirt looking directly at my face. “How’s your folks? Josh coming in from New York?”

He nodded as he fidgeted with the handle of his mug. “They’re good. Josh drove up with me. He’s already fighting with mom over which cookies to make.”

I could feel it. Jake was visibly upset, but I could feel the soured air between us. I felt my lip tremble as I realized that he wasn’t just struggling to look at me, but was physically restraining himself. This. Whatever this was, I had felt it before but in a much smaller venue. This was like when Robbie kissed me then a few days later said he didn’t like me anymore. What stung for moments returned to my body. Every nerve ending was paused, waiting for the shot that I suddenly knew was coming across my bow.

“Mandy, you must understand that this summer meant everything to me,” he started, each word fighting to get out of his mouth as if his lips were fighting against him.

My jaw felt like jello as my stomach rolled around like I had a bad case of flu. His body seemed to bend away from his own thoughts. The sight made my brain stand up in anger. The skin around my eyes felt like it consisted of pulsing drums as I shifted in the seat.

“I’m not understanding what’s happening, Jake,” I said as I tried to reach across the table.

The words started to fall out of his mouth, but my ears fought against hearing them. It was like every third or fourth or fifth was striking right when finally, finally my brain allowed one single word to penetrate - pregnant. Everything became laser focused and my body shored itself up like it was about to be run over by a hurricane of maximum force.

“When did this happen?” I asked, my voice foreign to my brain.

“Thanksgiving. I knew I was drinking too much. I knew it,” he whispered, the anger towards himself bruising the softness of my own heart. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. Mandy, I fucked this up so bad. I didn’t mean it. I just… I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

My back was straight. Completely opposite of the way it felt like from the inside. My stupid jaw wouldn’t stop quivering as he continued to talk, but each word brought me closer to vomiting up the gallon of coffee that sloshed around my stomach.

“I have to do what is right,” he whispered, his eyes looking glassy with tears.

I watched in shock as he stood up, fetching a couple of dollars from his pocket to lay down on the table to cover the ticket and tip. I realized then, there was no noise in the diner. It was like the few tables that were occupied knew what was happening between us. Jake leaned in close. The smell of his cologne, his smell that I so had welcomed and had missed, invaded my senses.

“Understand that I love you,” he whispered. “It’ll always be you, Amanda. I know I messed this up. My mistake. I’ll always love you.”

He kissed the ridge of my cheek. I could feel his mouth trembling as he planted a ghostly kiss into my skin. He did not withdraw quickly. He hovered. The click of his teeth chattering in his head was like nails in my heart. His pain was palpable, bleeding into my own in a perfect storm of … It was a perfect storm of… Distance.

He was gone. My Jake was gone. I felt the first tear strike my face and I wiped it away with a whimper. Cindy approached, a wad of tissues in her hand and a reassuring touch to my shoulder.

“Take as long as you need, sugar,” she whispered, her fingers pressing gently into the sleeve of my sweater.

In the matter of moments, my world was tilted to the side, kicked down the road and incinerated before my eyes. Jake was supposed to be ‘it’ for me. We had talked futures. We planned everything. We had had sex. Oh my goodness the sex. But we had taken care of each other - we talked about it and made sure we were careful. I was important to him, he cared for me deeply, just as I cared for him, and he was…

Jake POV

I sat in my car for hours after the diner. What I had to do was hard enough, but to see it etched and blistered across her eyes killed me. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to harm her. The last thing I ever wanted to do is to face any time without her. And yet, there I was, getting drunk in the front seat of my father’s car, alone, beyond confused at how something so stupid could have happened.

Junior year had been difficult. It was even worse than my sophomore year. I felt lost. I enjoyed classes for the most part. The work was hard, but manageable. I enjoyed the gig work that I was able to drum up - and the job in the record store was great. It was harder making friends. Chicago was huge and might as well have been another planet compared to Frankenmuth. Dorms were not for me. It was too easy to get into trouble. Too much booze, too many girls, too much of everything. Getting that apartment with Derrick, even though it was crappy and in a shit building, was huge. But it also allowed for more distraction than I had planned on. If there was a way to ignore the entire year, even though I passed all my classes - barely - I would gladly do so.

I didn’t want to go to that party. Sam insisted. He was all hopped up on his own stellar freshman year at Stanford. Josh was doing amazing things at NYU. Ronnie was killing it at Ann Arbor. Then there was me. I was in a position of losing my tiny little scholarship, and felt like I was squandering my parent’s money, as well as my own. So, to go to a party with freshly graduated high school students was not high on my list of shit to do. But then she was there. Amanda Fischer. She was adorable with a capital ‘A’. She had been that kind of quiet pretty girl in high school that went unnoticed until she clobbered you with a smile that you were sure you did not deserve. And there she was, with the same band of friends that she had been with since she had moved to town my senior year. She watched over them like a mama hen, making sure everyone was having fun, but staying safe.

She was like the sun. Her laugh was music and I found myself drawing closer to her as the hours ticked by. She was friends with everyone. I finally found myself next to her and felt stupid when I pretended to not know her name. My heart pounded heavily when she said my name. We talked like old friends instantly even though that had not been the case. Our spheres had crossed and touched, but never really had I talked with her. At the time, I wondered why that was. She was a drama and music kid. She was always around the fringes of my own group in school. And yet…

We found ourselves tucked on a huge boulder on the edge of the river, just down a bit from the party. I got to know her. Everything. She was so ready to laugh and ask questions and challenge me in my own thoughts. I was hooked even before I was writing my number across her arm. In my brain, I was already marking her as my own, but in truth, I was signing myself over to her.

The summer left me stunned. Mandy was my drug and she made me better just in her presence. I could see forward so clearly as to what was to come. Everything was leading me to this, and I wanted to be a man for her. I wanted to shelter and care for her, and wanted her to care for me and shelter me. I dreamed of family and that big house on Birch Street, and growing old with her, learning all of her secrets and desires and just everything.

I returned to school revitalized. Mandy had provided me with purpose and direction. All was going better than ever before. I picked up studio time for a couple of albums of little known blues and rock and roll artists. I picked up more gig time on the bar circuit, too. I played rhythm guitar for The Wringer on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at Odd Fellas Club, while Friday and Sundays was at the Blue Room with Three Broken Strings Band. It afforded me to put away enough to increase my partner buy-in with Henry for Martin’s Music Shop. Baird’s Records and Music was flexing my hours to spend more time in management, while Archer Studios invited me to sit with a variety of producers to observe their work. It was going in the manner that my dreams had begged for, and it was all for her.

I shone at midterms. My adviser had even been surprised when I had shown up on time to our little meeting in regards to whether or not I was going to graduate on time. The music director was impressed about the studio time, then presented me with an opportunity that I knew I could not say no to. I could not wait for Thanksgiving and getting home to see Mandy. To be close to her. To be with her. It would be a solid grand to play as a fill-in for a blues outfit for the ten days during the break - two shows a day at a venue three times the size the bars I was used to playing. When I called and talked with Amada about it, she was over the moon for me. We promised each other that Christmas would be all the more special in our reunion. My roommate, Derrick, could not return home for the holiday and invited me to a dinner party to be held in our own apartment. He had rounded up a handful of misfits to enjoy a dinner that lined up with the end of the show for Thursday evening. How could I refuse? I was already walking around like I had all the breaks suddenly pulled for me and life after graduation was going to be perfect.

I came home in a haze of cigarette smoke and beer. Derrick was corralling the group, which was supposed to only be ten people, but ballooned to twenty seven bodies crammed into the living and dining room. When I walked in, it was hard not to continue that haze into a full blown feed bag of food and booze. Most of the faces around me I had known, but there were a few new ones. While I manned the sink when it was time for dish duty, a girl from the arts department was my drying partner. Her name was Georgia and she loved listening to my stories about back home, my plans, and the - according to her - swoon-worthy romance with my girl.

I managed the music while Derrick was the best host he could be the rest of the night. The morning brought my head down through a blur that held a weight on the skin of my back. I was face down on my pillow. At first, it felt like a fleeting dream of Mandy and those times that I had woken to find her all wrapped up in me and my bed and our love. But the weight that felt ghostlike in between my shoulder blades did not dissipate when I shifted. Instead, a heat was released, instantly striking into my side like a bomb. My eyes flew open to find a splash of bleach blonde hair was mingled with my own. The absolute shock that flooded every nervous system helped me to launch my body from the bed, taking the thin comforter with me.

Georgia groggily lifted her head, instantly making a face that indicated pain from a hangover. She pulled her naked body up, tucking her legs under her as she visibly struggled to figure out where she was. I panicked, fumbling in my search for my pants, coming up with nothing but her lingerie and skirt until finally, my pants close to the door. I was stuffing my legs through the fabric as she started to laugh.

She scoffed as she pushed her hair back in what seemed like an attempt to be normal. “Shit, this was a mistake.”

“No shit,” I grumbled as I struggled with the button on my fly. “What the hell happened? How the fuck…”

She laughed. Outright laughed. My stomach threatened to empty all over her as she slid from the bed to gather her clothes. She stumbled from my room, right in front of Derrick and shut herself into the bathroom. The heat that flooded my face and neck was enough to roast the sun. And then it hit. I had betrayed Mandy. I had slept with that woman and had taken every shred of trust that my love had bestowed upon me and set it on fire. The sound that burbled through my throat was foreign. And then she was gone. No other words were spoken. She left me there in my own guilt.

Josh flew to Chicago for an extended layover before getting back to school out east. I had told him that I would fetch him. I couldn’t leave my room. I could hear Derrick in the front room talking with him as I sat in the corner, eyes burning from grief. My brother sat with me while my roommate disappeared to give me space. I was heartsick. I couldn’t hide the tears. I couldn’t stop the venom for myself from spilling out between us.

Somehow, he put me back together enough to make my gigs for that night. He sat at the side of the stage, insisting that once I had myself started that things would level out - that I would be able to put things right with my Amanda. And he was right. I knew that I needed to tell her what had happened - not that I actually remembered anything. Josh left early the next day with assurances that I just needed to stay the course and keep my shit together. Mandy was everything. She knew she was everything. It was a mistake. It could be a mistake that could be lived through.

In the few weeks that flowed by between Thanksgiving and the winter holiday break, I had done just as Josh suggested. I kept my nose down, worked my ass off both in class, and at the record store and my night gigs. I kept to myself, turning down invites to go to the bars and hang out with friends beyond school.

December twentieth had rolled around. Derrick was once again manning the apartment for those who could not return home for the holidays. I set a stack of new records on the record player for him before I finished packing for my fast break from the likes of Chicago. He had drifted out with a wave on his way to work and a thanks for the music. Josh was arriving on the red eye. The plan was that I was going to pick him up and drive home - arriving in time for breakfast with the family.

It was after ten thirty when the knock came at my door. I found Georgia in the grimy hallway, disheveled and looking upset. I told her that Derrick was at work and I was on my way out to get her to go on her way.

“I’m pregnant,” she said quietly, her dark eyes filled with tears. “I’ve not been with anyone but you for months.”

Just when my heart thought it couldn’t take more, I found that it exploded out my mouth and through the top of my head. It was like all my bones were made of rubber and betrayed me in my quest to leave. The words that wanted to come out of my mouth did not. I should have questioned. I should have handled things better. Instead, I watched as my life with Amanda Fischer flew away. Everything was decided before she left. After the shock turned to a crispy mess at my edges, I knew. I was going to have to figure it all out along the way, but life was not going to be what I wanted it to be.

Josh drove us home. The moment I saw him in the airport, he knew. He professed that he knew shit had hit before he landed. His face told me that he was keenly aware that I was wrecked. We talked all through the drive. Well, I cried through it, while he assured me that it would be well. The family would throw their full support behind me. I would not fail in this.

The bottle at my side did little to make me feel like I was doing what was right. I was doing what my family expected. I would take care of this woman I did not know. I would take care of the child in her belly that she said was mine from a night that I do not remember. The disappointment that was in my father’s face was nearly as bad as the betrayal that showed in Amanda's eyes. My mother was sick with worry. The fury that she felt edged them all. I had let everyone down and now I was going to show that I could be redeemed through marrying a stranger and doing right by my child.

Chapter 2: June, 1982: Amanda POV

If you were to ask how I survived freshman year, I would simply tell you I had no choice but to bury myself in school. I landed a job in the student bookstore in February, and took a weekend shift at the public library. I deliberately shoved my brain into places it was busy so as not to have to think of anything except for the tasks before me.

I could be found in the darkest hours, cursing myself for foolish tears that would somehow appear on my cheeks. I was bleeding out. My whole world was bleeding out and I had no idea what would be left if the hurt ever vacated my system. I refused to broadcast my troubles. How weak must I have appeared walking from class to class, feeling very much like parts of me were just gone, or rotting upon my sleeve. My heartache did not keep my bosses from giving me positive feedback in my work. It did, however, keep me in the shadows of parties and study groups and anything that required me to expose my wounds and false smiles. By March, I found that every breath was not weighted. Every muscle no longer felt frozen. I found myself being able to talk to others without fumbling my words.

Jake was to be at the forefront of everything I was doing. To have my compass ripped away, tossed me into a current I was not nearly ready for. But somehow, by some microscopic miracle, I survived. I felt like I had a whole heart. It was held together with rubber cement and sticky tape, but it felt whole once more. I found myself heading out with my dorm friends to the end of the term parties and feeling a smile push its way back onto my face and words of future plans flying from my mouth like I meant them.

When it was time to return home, I hesitated. Jenni, my younger sister, said that she had seen Jake working at Martin’s Music all the way back in January. To think that he was not in school hurt. To know that he was already home, and with her on my home grounds, made me drag my feet. I had my summer jobs lined up - once again working at the grocery, but also a few days in the library. The hours would keep me fairly busy. And friends from high school had already reached out, providing a safety net of sorts in the downtime.

Home seemed smaller when I dropped my bag in the entry hall. Mom and Dad were ecstatic to see me. Jenni and Mel nearly tackled me. Home may have felt smaller, but it felt good. To have a home cooked meal and faces that I loved being so close was healing.

“Family picnic next Saturday,” dad had announced as my sisters and I were working on the dishes. “You are expected to be there.”

We rolled our eyes playfully but knew from the authority in his tone that there would be no excuses taken to miss said picnic. The week went well. I was in the bakery at the grocery store, so most of the time, I was covered in sugar and flower and a sticky hairnet, but could have the radio on as loud as I wanted and danced like I didn’t care. The library put me on the circulation desk and shelving books. It wasn’t hard, but felt like my eyes were constantly searching for any evidence that Jake was indeed still living in town. My heart struggled on both thoughts - that he did not finish school and was living in town - or maybe he decided not to follow through with his plans of partnering with Henry Martin at the music shop. Both paths were not right and picked at the drying glue beads on my heart.

Saturday started beautifully. The city park was a jewel that straddled the river, meandering lazily with sport fields and monkey bars and slides and horseshoe pits. The weather was crisp and perfect and drew out so many to enjoy the early summer day. I had found a smile. All the aunties and uncles and grandparents had ventured out to join us. Jenni and I were running around with the littlest of cousins while Mel took her spot helping Mom organize the food. I felt like a kite, bouncing between constricted fingers, ready to take off to be part of my own sky. Not that my family was holding me down, but the time was coming for me to make my own way. I could feel it in my skin as I spun little Zach around in my arms.

I was distracted by Aunt Mary for a few moments as she waved for me and Jenni to move close together for a picture. Next thing I knew, Zachary was booking it towards the riverbank just as fast as his little three year old legs could carry him. I sprinted after him, the breath heavy in my chest with the thought that I may not be fast enough. The boy’s peels of laughter shot me full of fear that he would lose his footing and fall into the fast moving water. I swooped in just before he started to turn direction. Instead of scolding though, I laughed with the boy as I lifted him up and over my shoulder in a show of play rather than fear.

We giggled and laughed as I teased him, all the while I was walking us back towards safety. He deftly shimmied his way across my back for a piggy back ride, his little hands taking hold on my shoulders and chin and neck. I felt a ray of happy strike my chest.

“Amanda?”

I stopped in my horseplay with Zach to find Jake standing with a heavily pregnant woman. He looked exhausted with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair had been chopped short - shorter than he had ever had it before. I of course noticed the matching gold plated bands right away on their hands with an eye that I hoped was not shocked. There was no smile on his mouth and it hurt to see the corners turning downward.

“Hello, Jake,” I managed to say in a normal voice despite my insides sloshing around like I was on rough seas. “How are you?”

“Good. Good,” he said even though the corners of his eyes pinched in the way that made me know without a doubt that things were not good. “Uh, this is Georgia.”

The woman at his side was pretty in that make-up sort of way, though she looked sour in the late term of her pregnancy. I smiled the best I could. My eyes met his gaze for a moment, but it was enough. It was like my heart flew apart at the realization that there was no joy in him - not any more. I couldn’t force any words past my lips. Fortunately, Zach must’ve picked up my unease and started to fuss against me, yanking my hair to move.

“I better get going,” I said, hoping that he did not hear the quiver in my voice. “It was good to see you Jake, Georgia.”

I took a few steps before getting Zach down so that he could run ahead of me back to the family corner. I tried my hardest to keep my shoulders strong and my back straight, but I felt like jello by the time I got to Jenni. Her eyes were trained over my shoulder as I’m sure she was watching the couple continue to walk down the path.

“I have to go,” I whispered to keep my voice from cracking.

Jenni nodded as she drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll keep you covered with the folks.”

I slithered away, out of the park to my waiting bus. The microbus didn’t want to start at first - almost as if hoping that what it saw was not Jake with another woman. The flash of memory crossed my mind of my first time with Jake in the back of the vehicle I sat in. The way he had held me, took care of me. He may not have been my first, but he damn sure made it feel like he was going to be my last. I gulped as I backed the bus up and made my escape. The feel of his hands echoed across my body as I fought to keep in a jagged sob. The words that he whispered as he worshiped my skin punched and kicked in my belly as my vision blurred.

I missed second gear as I shifted, the engine giving a jolt over my mistake. It was enough to rattle me back to what I was doing. The tears were hot on my flesh as I rushed to wipe at them. Home felt like a dollhouse as I parked the bus and tumbled through the door. I discovered that my shared room with Jenni was little more than a little girl’s fantasy. Her unbroken, full of wonder heart’s pixie dust and magical dreams etched into every inch of walls, carpet and ceiling. It resided in every book, every poster, every piece of art. My feet carried me right to the bookcase. Jenni had covered it with one of her cowgirl hats, but the journal was there - untouched, unmoved from when I had laid it to rest at Christmas. The dark navy cover with little imprinted silver stars called out for my fingers to reach up and retrieve it.

The corner of my mouth flinched as the cover popped and the spine cracked as if in warning of what I was about to see. Its pages were filled with little girl desires, goals, plans. Words wrapped in shakily drawn hearts and clouds as she wrote out her deepest events with Jake. There were pictures and mementos and sketches and memories of a forever that would never happen.

A picture drifted to the floor. The sound of his laugh filled my ears as I bent to pick it up. He wore those short red swim trunks that day with a baseball hat, his hair sticking out from beneath it in all different directions. We spent the whole day on the river, tubing, just the two of us. It was the first time he had said he wanted me… He wanted me that way. He had been lost in thought, playing with my fingers and he just said it. No smile. No laugh. No nothing but the words and the weight that followed felt like he had captured me like a butterfly, so careful not to bend my wings. He was beautiful in that moment. He was a man giving me a glimpse of a life that I so desperately wanted with him and him only.

I was surprised that I was no longer crying as I traced the line of his arm in the picture. I puffed out a breath like I was blowing out stale air from the attic. I tucked the picture back into the diary and returned it to its resting place. It was a little girl’s refuge and would stay that way. These were memories of a better time and I just needed to accept what was instead of what could be. The exhaustion of the moment pressed down on me and I was ready to release it. I could say goodbye to Jake. I would say goodbye to Jake.

Jake POV

The day had started just as every other day had since everything had so drastically changed. Instead of waking up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Derrick, I woke up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Georgia. I was able to procure the living space above the accounting office downtown. Of course, Mr. Moser, the accountant, was a total prick about everything. Walk across the floor any time during office hours could result in a call that we were being too loud. School was done - for both of us. A fact that I was reminded of often. I was working my ass off, sometimes finding that I was ‘home’ for six hours or less at any given stretch. Mr. Henry was happy to let me come on full time right away at the music shop. I also picked up weekend shifts at the papermill. It still wasn’t enough to cover the medical bills, so I also was a substitute night janitor at the school. I was lucky to sit a few minutes before each stretch of job.

The pregnancy had not been an easy one. Most days, Georgia could only go between the bed to the gross couch I was able to lift off my parents from the garage, to the bathroom. Most days, her mood was foul, so me being at work all the time was not totally a bad thing. Maybe a selfish thing, but not bad.

I married her the second week of January. Mom was beyond pissed and Dad was disappointed. Georgia had no ties to her family. She did not have any friends that attended the services, either. Josh was worried. Ronnie and Sam were baffled. And I was in mourning. But I was doing what was right. I was going to provide a home and family for this child that was to be mine. I could be that man - that man that took responsibility for his shit. There was no love in this relationship. Some days, I wondered if there was any respect to it. Minute by minute could be a struggle. The arguments were steady with her lamenting that she was no better than her mother - she’d wind up stupid with a horde of kids she hated and a man…

She often stopped short at that part. I would be gone before she could finish the sentiment anyway. I was not one of those men and she damn well knew it. The doctor suggested that she needed to move to ease the stress on her body. I had taken to walking with her when I had time between jobs. Saturday mornings before I had to get over to Martin’s for a few lessons, followed by my twelve hour shift at the mill was one of the few times that I could walk her through the park.

With the end of the school year, I knew that I would have to address the fact that Mandy would be returning home. I would have to acknowledge the wound that was refusing to heal within my chest. I was in no shape to see her dancing with her cousin in the sunshine that morning. I flew apart at my seams the moment my eyes landed on her.

Mandy was the kind of beautiful that I could read like a song title, with notes that were delicate and fierce and… And there she was before me. Her raven hair tied back in a thick, glossy braid, with little stray wisps that kissed around her neck and face. To hear the twinkle of her laugh filled my skin with an energy that I had been desperate for. The instant pain that flickered through her features clawed open the flimsy stitches on my soul.

Georgia felt it - the hard gravitational pull that Amanda had upon me. I was sure of it. Her body was instantly rigid and her breath was tight. It was not lost on me that she said not a word to Mandy after I introduced her. By the time we got home, she was spewing venom the likes I had never seen. Instead of feeling shame, it was rage that blurred in my vision.

“You cannot seriously think that I can just not feel anything,” I said, my voice foreign to my ears as I hissed each syllable. “You know what she was supposed to be - what she should be - for me.”

Georgia’s eyes bulged with a sickening glare. “Then I guess you shouldn’t have fucked me!”

The words were screamed across the entire downtown. I was sure of it. It was her favorite bite when she felt like she was cornered. My fault. I did this to her. Maybe I did, but I wasn’t the only one in that bed. The only reprieve with this argument was that at least it was Saturday and Mr. Moser wouldn’t be calling the cops on us this time. Instead of watching her spiral out of control while my brain bit back words that were cruel, I merely grabbed my keys and walked out.

I dug in my pocket for change that wasn’t there. It would be a long day without food in my belly. I pushed into Martin’s back door, shoving my smelly coveralls for the mill into the locker that Henry had gotten me, along with my keys and slammed the door with a huff. I could feel my world crumbling further as the man that I called mentor looked me over. He pointed at the office door while he finished up with a customer at the counter. My heart sank. Henry was one of those people that most wished for to be part of your life. Martin’s music had been a refuge while I was growing up. Dad and I would spend hours within its walls, playing, messing around, searching for whatever caught our eye. Henry and Dad were good friends, but as I grew, I found that the man filled all those voids that I felt when I was around anyone else. By the time I was fourteen, I realized I wanted to be him when I grew up.

Stepping into the small office that was crammed with filing cabinets and boxes, I poured myself a cup of tar that Henry called coffee. I didn’t mind though. It would at least be something in my stomach. I looked over the schedule, noting that my one o’clock had been canceled - again. I grumbled. I got paid regardless, but honestly, how I could be considered intimidating was beyond me.

“Bad day,” Henry said as he closed the door behind him.

I blew out a breath when I really just wanted to bury my face and cry. Henry patted my shoulder as he moved around me. He balanced his long frame against the edge of the old desk, arms folded across his chest. The look in his face made all my upset that much worse.

“I’m sorry I came in like this, Henry,” I said, wiping my fingers across my forehead.

“I think it’s time to talk about the partnership agreement,” he remarked, his lips pursed.

Oh hell no…

I felt everything rush to my feet. The deal was that I would graduate, buy into the partnership and in five years, take over the business.

“I know things haven’t been going well,” he continued, giving me a knowing look that I’m sure was supposed to be comforting but instead felt like it was my cue to panic. “I’ve talked things over with Ada and we agree that the partnership that we thought we could have needs to be revised.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled out as I tried to find where my heartbeat had gone. “Henry, I - I just don’t have the money to buy-in right now. All my gig cash got eaten up first and now it’s just… I just don’t have it�� I didn’t mean-”

One of his bear paw sized hands came down on my shoulder, his face a mix of upset and concern. “Whoa, Jake. Slow down.”

“No, this is not how it’s supposed to be, Henry,” I choked out across my tightening throat. “I get it. I’m trying to get there. I’ll do anything to keep up with my end of the plan. It’s everything -”

I couldn’t breathe. The man gripped my shoulder as grief and panic conquered my entire body. The rattle and bang of the office door sent me to hiding my face.

“What did you do, Henry?” Ada’s strong tone was instantly defensive as her hand fell to my empty shoulder.

“I just said that we needed to talk about our partnership,” the man said softly, his hand rubbing into the thin sleeve of my t-shirt. “Jake. Come on, son. It’s okay.”

“Jacob,” she soothed, hugging my head into her torso. “Come on, baby. It’ll be okay. It’s not bad. Just my stupid husband’s inability to read the room.”

Once the emotions were let loose, I couldn’t drag them back. Everything was flooding out of me - from the fight with Georgia, to seeing Mandy, from all the mistakes and all the loss, it all just washed out of me and I was helpless to stop it. And these two lovely people who I considered second parents let it happen. Let me cry like a damn child over a broken toy. But they held me. They must’ve realized that they had become my glue that was holding me together.

Ada was quick with a glass of water and tissues while Henry frowned as if he was trying to piece together what was going on. These two were never able to have their own kids. I was among the multitudes that they had unofficially adopted as their own - but Ada always said that I was the one she would fight to bring me home. Mom would just cackle and offer me up. Something that Mom missed was the drift of sadness that invaded Mrs. Ada’s eyes whenever that phrase was uttered.

“I didn’t mean to lose it like that,” I said as I wiped at my face. “I’m sorry you two. It’s just everything I wanted to do is just gone.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk about the partnership,” Henry remarked, taking his seat behind the desk. “It’s time to maybe restructure it - you’ve got a baby coming. We need to make sure everything works here, okay? I think I have a few ideas-”

“You mean we, Henry - we have a few ideas,” Ada said sharply with a pat to my arm.

He might’ve rolled his eyes dramatically, but the smile was there. I felt my body return to normal. A wisp of strength returned to my burning lungs as Henry and Ada outlined their ideas to keep things moving forward - taking a little bit of extra time before I took full ownership, but if I wanted it, Martin’s could still be mine. The plan was enough to carry me through the rest of the day. Ada showed up with a plate before I had to leave for the mill. She grumbled that I was working myself to death. I left with a smile - something that had been elusive as of late.

I dragged myself home. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to fight. I was near crawling as I took to the stairs outside of the apartment. As I jingled the key in the lock, for a moment, I hesitated. I wondered if Georgia would still be inside. There were no ties to her other than the baby. She had nobody other than myself to keep her here. If I admitted to myself, I looked forward to meeting my child, loving them, sheltering them. Perhaps it would be the catalyst to love for the wife I barely knew. I knew there would be no love like what I still harbored for Mandy, but at the very least, have some semblance of a marriage.

The apartment was silent when I entered. I dropped my keys in the dish at the door and kicked out of my boots. Once I stripped out of the coveralls, I lit a smoke before I headed towards the shower. My eyes passed over the empty counter of the kitchen and the bare walls of the space. The bedroom door was still closed and I decided not to look inside for her. I did not need to be screamed at so early in the morning. Instead, I let the shower penetrate my skin, washing away the harshness that Georgia had laid into me hours before. A stray thought of how good Mandy had looked until I had to open my mouth to force her to look at me flashed across my consciousness. The conflict struck my heart and stayed there.

I stood in the kitchen with a piece of bread with peanut butter smeared across it when Georgia slowly made her presence known. I had made a pot of coffee but could only stare at it. I was too damn tired to wash out the only mug in the apartment. I was waiting for her words to slam into my head and tear me down to the floor. Her silence made my skin prickle with anger. All I could do was hope that perhaps she did not see the reaction.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was out of line.”

I could feel my eyebrows pinch together in confusion. Looking at her, how she held her hands under her swollen belly like she was already holding our baby, she looked lovely in her own way. The tiredness of her eyes made me drop my guard.

“You have to understand that I did not expect to see her yesterday,” I said softly.

“She’s everything you said she would be,” Georgia sighed as she leaned against the counter next to me. “Maybe more. I think that’s why I reacted to the situation like that. Made me realize a few things.”

I couldn’t say anything. Her dark eyes shimmered in the low light of the morning. I shoved the rest of my peanut butter bread into my face to settle my quivering stomach.

“I know you’re killing yourself to keep us afloat, Jake,” she whispered. “It won’t always be like this.”

I looked at her as I filled a glass with water. “I know. You doing better this morning?”

“Just ready for this baby to be here, I think,” she muttered as her hands swirled around the top of her belly. “Been super active all night. Going to be bouncy, I think. Kind of like you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She beckoned me for my hand and I obliged as she took my wrist and guided my fingers to where the baby was kicking and moving. My child. No matter what - that was love. Love waiting to be brought into the world. It was what I clung to when the woman before me slung me full of arrows and venom.

I pressed my fingers against what felt like the crest of a tiny knee and was rewarded with a hard thump. I couldn’t help the smile that split my lips, nor the soft chuckle that rode out on my breath.

“I’ve got to get to bed,” I replied as I continued to wonder at the life within her tummy. “I’ve got to be back to the mill by noon.”

Georgia nodded. I noticed the corners of her mouth tightened.

“Why don’t you come lay down with me,” I said softly, my eyes lifting to hers.

She nodded as I slipped my hand into hers to guide her along. I slid into the small, double sized bed and waited for her to get comfortable on her side before I formed myself against her, my hand searching for the connection to our baby once more. It was not love. It was not love that I felt for her in moments like this, but at least it was comfort. She could be kind. I could return that kindness. I fell into a sleep under the rhythmic kick of my baby and the soft breathing of my wife.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I hope you enjoy the story so far. I’ll be back next Wednesday with another two chapters. I will continue to warn that there is heavier angst ahead, and just be aware of your limits. Next week will be tough.

I have a tag list if you would like to join, or you can just reply to this or message me.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows @livkiszka @thetroublegetssoloud71

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka fan fic #greta van fleet au #gvf au #greta van fleet fan fic #jake kiszka au #best laid plans

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imaginespazzi · 1 month

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Nivi!!! Since you are so diligently sticking to your schedule (you’re so inspiring babes), I thought I should at the very least try to get this review to you on time too! Imma just combine parts 5 & 6 in this one so apologies if gets too long. Also, I haven’t really had a chance to scroll and read through other people’s reviews for part 5 so I’m so sorry if I end up repeating what everyone else may have already said.

FIRST OF ALL, Back to December as the lyric reference for Part 5 was *chef’s kiss* - mainly because that’s gotta be one of my top Taylor songs of all time, ah the wistfulness 🥲

DREW cameo!! The only one with brain cells. Cause he’s right, they’re all stupid! (But we love them anyway).

“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.” – this really got me though. Poor Drew, like he never imagined he’d be having to witness his sister ever marry someone who wasn’t Azzi too! He just wanted his pookie back 🥺

Paige finding out about Azzi’s pregnancy through TikTok feels very on-brand lmao (ugh does that mean there were Olivia and Paige edits once upon a time 🥴), and them still commenting congratulations on each other’s post about the engagement and the pregnancy to keep up the friendly act killed me. Could. Not. Be. Me.

Katie and Paige interactions have my whole heart. Whenever I think about them, I always end up thinking about that immunity booster video so I’m glad it got the mention in part 5!

What is it with you and these damn phone calls, Nivi!! “You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.” “You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.” – once again, cue “and it would have been sweet, if it could have been me”. WELL IT COULD HAVE IF Y’ALL WEREN’T BEING STUPID (sorry, had to channel my inner Drew there).

“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child. – Obsessed with this because I just feel like you perfectly captured their relationship with this line.

“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes –so real for this cause Paige really was being dramatic af since Azzi left with Stephie. Standing on the porch for way-too-long just staring into the distance then breaking down in the fort and not moving for 3 hours. DRAMATIC. But like sad 😔

The comparison between Paige’s expression when talking about Stephie and Tim’s when he first met Azzi. I was waiting for something like this! My heart.

Steph (old) cameo! I’ll allow it, cause despite my hatred for the Warriors, I do loooove that man.

“What defense can a 5 year old play…” – idk why but I had a good chuckle at this, I just love when you pull these one-liners, the comedic timing is impeccable.

Katie with some GREAT lines too.

Pleaseee, not the UNCLE TWIN and TWIN NIECE 😆 I knoww Steph (man) loves the fact that his goddaughter, who’s prolly gonna go on and be a Golden State legend herself, is named after him.

I know it’s super cute, but I do be cracking up a lil everytime Stephie and Paige reunite cause it’s always so goddamn dramatic. Like girly pops please, it’s barely been 24 HOURS 😭

Yeah, Paige gonna be SPOILING her queen and their princess forever.

THEY KISSED.

I may or may not always let out an undignified squeal when I see a high school era flashback. Like those are always my favourites fr. You just never fail to make them feel so nostalgic.

Their first kiss, damn Paige really been a lover girl since 16 huh 🥹 Also the transition from their first kiss to what could be their last first kiss was perfection!

Although, idk if the “slow” that Katie had in mind meant kissing already but hey, they’re moving!

Look, as long as we get at least one cute family scene with our fave trio then that’s all the serotonin I really need for the day (week) and the scene with the flowers and the car seat was exactly that, pure serotonin.

Paige and the Fudds reunion 🥰

Stephie really is ride-or-die for her perfect Miss Buecks!

“Dumbapples” – LMAOOOO sometimes the brain cells just don’t always be braincelling.

And they finally get a redo on that sleepover, where no one leaves, at least not until pancakes have been served.

What’s next?

I’ve been thinking about the break-up too much- like when in 2025? Was it during the season? So before the natty?? But like there’s no way you could be that cruel, Nivi! You couldn’t have them finally winning the natty only for them to be heartbroken while doing so?

Or worse, have them win the natty and make P think she’s got everything she could ever want only for that to come crashing down not long after??

But like definitely pre-draft night maybe?? I guess that would make sense with Azzi overthinking things and worrying about being left behind? Sorry, am just thinking out loud atp!

But like were there already cracks forming even earlier in that year?? Cause if so, I’m curious about Paige’s proposal and the timing of it hmmm. My braincells are attempting to be braincells.🧠

I’m still awaiting that Drew and Azzi reunion cause Drew being so heartbroken that he really tried to stop the wedding all by himself hurt me. I can imagine for Drew too, how much he probably looked to Paige and Azzi as his ideal of what a relationship and love is, only for them to fall apart as well. Plus seeing how close irl Drew is to the Fudds makes me big sad for GH Drew 😞

I can’t wait for Coach P and Player Stephie dynamics!! The favouritism is really not gonna be subtle no matter how hard Paige tries 😃

Soooo, Part 6 was suspiciously too fluffy ya know, I feel like you’re just setting us up. Giving us a taste of joy, only to rip it from us next chapter. I’m on evil writer Nivi watch.

Favourite lines/quotes:

“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?”

Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. – side note: this line and this scene made me nostalgic for the stargazing scene in the UCLA fic 🥹

Alright bestie, this review is a biiig boi but I thought I owed you for being late with the part 5 review so hopefully this makes up for it a little! Also, I’ll prolly be late in reviewing the next one if (when 🤞) it’s out next week cause life is lifing so I’m sorry in advance 😭

Thank you as always for keeping us warm and fed! Hope you’re doing well btw!! Is the baby fever still at a high? Cause I was at the park with my friend and her 1-yr old the other day and omg he was being the sweetest little bean ever and the baby fever was FEVERING but then I realised I’m a baby (adult) too so I promptly brought the fever back to reality 😅

Love ya Nivi, have a great week ahead bestie 💗

-🙋‍♀️

BABES HELLOOO <3 I've been waiting for your thoughts!

This whole fic is very Back to December coded and it's one of my top 5s too and it just fit so well with chapter 5

#FreeDrewBueckersFromDumbassPaigeyAndPookie my poor little man was traumatized and they need to make it up to him immediately

I LOVE KATIE FUDD. And she just gives such entertaining chaotic mom energy and I feel like especially with Paige, she really keep that girl humble (and holds her when she needs it)

The 1 references galore because while I won't subject y'all to an actual depressing fic, I simply can't stop myself from adding the vibes

LMAO Steph is so universally loved I kinda adore that man and he'll be making an appearance again at some point I think.

Listen Stephie and Paige are the definition of matching each other's freak except it's matching each other's dramatics like they're gonna run into each other's arms like they haven't seen each other in years every damn time

Katie tried to nudge them and didn't realize all these idiots needed was a tap to literally full-speed a head (well with some breaks of course)

I cackled writing dumbapples ngl

The marriage proposal is definitely before the draft...that's all you're getting lol

Y'all think Azzi's guilty now when no one's even saying anything to her, just wait for Drew Bueckers and his way with words :)

I am also very excited for more Curry Camp scenes!

I don't think anyone loves or understand the stargazing the scene the way you do babes and I appreciate it <3

Ah lovie, review whenever you can. Even if it's months and month later, I will still be just as excited to read your thoughts!

The baby fever is in fact still higkey baby fever-ing and I don't know how and when it'll stop but I'm not even really trying to stop it.

#ask #fic talk #UCLA ANON LOML FR <3 #“evil writer nivi watch” is crazy like no trust at all huh?

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footprintsinthesxnd · 11 months

Text

Young Love and Old Money

Summary: this series follows the story of Lewis Nixon and Josephine Wills and their trials, tribulation and love throughout WW2, including stories of their friends in between. Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, heartbreak.

Masterlist Moodboards

Aldbourne December 1943

The last Josie expected on Christmas Eve was to run into a very drunk, very miserable Lewis Nixon as she cycled home from Jess’ house. She’d been over there with Julian celebrating Christmas together. They realised it could be the last Christmas they’d all be together for a long time and who knew what the year of 1944 would bring.

Josie's bike veered to the side as the shadowy figure appeared in the darkness. She wasn’t able to have a headlamp on her bike anymore due to the blackout regulations but she knew the lanes so well and could easily see if any cars with their dipped headlights were coming towards her.

The brakes screeched to a halt, nearly sending Josie over the top of the handlebars at the sudden movement.

When Josie’s eyes met the figure through the gloom she could make out the dark circles that ran under his eyes that no longer seemed to shine with enthusiasm.

“Lewis?” She asked, carefully propping her bike against the hedge. He just continued to stare at her and had it been anyone else she may have been nervous but something drew her to Lewis.

“Lewis?” She reached her hand forward but he flinched away from her, his eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t. Don’t do it if you don’t mean it,” he slurred, wobbling briefly before steadying himself. “Please don’t.” He slumped down on the verge and without a second thought Josie was by his side, kneeling down in the wet grass.

“Lewis, please look at me,” she cupped his face in her hands, turning his towards her but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. The smell of alcohol engulfed her nostrils and she knew he’d been doing more than celebrating Christmas. “Lewis, what happened?” She coaxed him to look at her.

He looked back at her, his beautiful brown eyes glistening as tears began to trickle down his cheeks, his lip quivering as he began to speak. “You did,” he whispered. “You happened. You came into my life…” he hiccuped before continuing. “Y-you came into my life and you completely turned it upside down. Do you know what kind of effect you have on people?”

Josie’s cheeks turned to match the shade of her dress. She shook her head and Lewis sighed. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not even my ex-wife.” He looked ashamed to admit it. Lewis had briefly told her about his ex-wife before and how devastated he’d been that she took everything, including their child and his dog.

“Lewis, I can’t… you know I’m engaged.”

“Oh I know, Roe let that one slip. The poor fellow didn’t quite realise what he’d said.” Lewis admitted and Josie could only imagine Eugene’s horror when he realised.

“Lewis, I’m so sorry…”

“Can I just stop you there?” He interjected, raising his hand to her. “I need to say something and if you keep talking I don’t think I’ll be able to say it.”

Josie nodded, grabbing hold of Lewis' hand which he accepted.

“Josie, I think I’m in love with you. I’ve never known anyone who makes me feel the way you do and I know we haven’t known each other very long but I can’t imagine… I don’t want to imagine my life without you.” Josie sat in utter shock as Lewis confessed his heart. Neither of them noticed that the rain had started to pour, too caught up in each other's eyes. “I love you, Josephine Wills. I fear that I will always love you.”

“Lewis…”

“I know. I know. You’re engaged and I’ve heard that he is a very fine RAF pilot. I understand why you're doing this. Having a family that has high expectations of you is difficult, I should know,” he laughed, looking away from Josie before turning back to her. “I just need to know one thing and then I will leave you alone forever. Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Josie replied, without missing a beat. Lewis watched her curiously, studying her eyes, the way her mouth moved, feeling the pulse from her wrist as she spoke. He knew she wasn’t lying to him. Without a second thought, Lewis wrapped his fingers into her hair, pulling her close as their lips met. The kiss was warm and familiar as if they had been kissing each other for years. Josie didn’t want to pull away and from the way Lewis had wrapped his arms around her middle, he didn’t want to either. When they did eventually pull apart the pair were soaked to the skin and shivering against the harsh December wind. “Come on,” Josie pulled Lewis to his feet. “I know somewhere we can go.” She dragged Lewis after her and made a mental note to come back for her bike in the morning.

It was a short walk to the hunting cabin in the woods, it had been recommissioned and part of it was used for the army as storage but the upper flaw was left for the Beaumont family’s use. Josie knew that William’s family barely used it anymore so no one would notice if they sheltered from the rain there. Josie pulled Lewis up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms.

“Here put these on, you must be freezing,” she didn’t look up but tossed a pair of trousers and a jumper at Lewis. Josie thought it was a pair that William had left there one Christmas but she wasn’t about to let Lewis know that. She rummaged around some more until she pulled out some trousers and a jumper for herself. It wasn’t much but it was better than the wet dress she was currently in.

Josie began unbuttoning the front of her dress when a small cough from behind her made her turn. Lewis was still standing on his soaking uniform, cheeks looking a little flushed and the clothes Josie had given him still crumpled in his arms.

“I’ll… umm I’ll just step out a moment.” Lewis all but fell through the door in his haste and the fact that he was still looking at her Josie noted. Once Josie had change she opened the door and saw Lewis sitting on a chair in the hallway.

“Well, I hope you weren’t planning on hiding out her all night,” she commented, her hand resting defiantly on her hip and her left eyebrow raised.

“N-no, I’m coming,” Lewis jolted to his feet, looking a little queasy from how quickly he stood and followed Josie back into the room, where she was slumped on the bed. Lewis gingerly lay next to her, his eyes boring holes into the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact with her.

“You know you can look at me. I’m not going to disappear,” Josie mocked, giggling slightly and she leaned closer to Lewis but he didn’t move.

“But if I look at you then it will be real that we are here and you're engaged to another man and I just don’t want to think about that.” Lewis’ eyes glanced at her before returning to the ceiling.

“I don’t love him,” Josie said after a few minutes of silence. “He’s been my friend since we were both children. I’ve grown up with him and I love our friendship but I am not in love with him.”

Josie's confession did something to lift Lewis’ spirits, “but you’re still engaged to him.” Lewis rolled over to face Josie, watching as she reached forward for his hands, entwining them with her own.

“But I don’t want to be.” She leant forward to kiss Lewis and this time he didn’t pull away. His lips tasted strongly of whiskey and his hair was so soft under her fingers that Josie thought he must have washed it that evening. Josie felt herself crawling closer until she was straddling Lewis, her legs on either side of his hips and his hands wrapped around her waist.

“Josie?” Lewis asked, reaching his hand up to cup her cheek. “This wasn’t how I would have planned to say this,” he cleared his throat, pushing Josie back a little so he could lean against the headboard.

“Josie I know we’ve only known each other for 2 months but just knowing you have vastly improved my trip to England.” Josie giggled at this and Lewis couldn’t help but smile with her. “I know that at some point soon we are going to war and I don’t know how much time I have left to tell you this but I love you, Josie. I love you with every part of me and I don’t know what to do when you’re around. When Eugene told me you were engaged I thought my world was over. I understand if you don’t feel the same or you don’t want to go against your parent's wishes. I promise I will understand but if there is a small chance you feel the same then just know that I would spend the rest of my life loving you. You’re my angel, Josie.”

When William had confessed his love for her Josie had been unsure, she knew what she should say and yet it felt forced to tell him that she loved him too. Saying yes to his question felt like a knife in her heart but she’d smiled through. She’d made herself happy about it even if her friends knew she felt otherwise but with Lewis there was no doubt.

“Josie, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Aldbourne January 1943

Josie could feel her heart racing with anticipation as she smiled at Lewis, her hands gripped tightly in his. She didn’t think she could ever be any happier than she was at that moment. The vicar spoke softly to them but neither could take their eyes off each other until they said ‘ I do’.

The small crowd erupted around them, clapping wildly and cheering as the couple kissed for the first time as man and wife. Josie could see all their friends standing in the pews: Jess and Eugene, Julian and George, Dick, Buck and Lipton were all there too. Josie felt a little disappointed that her family wasn’t there but after the harsh words shared between them, she no longer had a home or a family beyond the people in the church. Her father had disowned her and her mother was too afraid to speak up so their daughter left them. She had written to William and explained that she was breaking off the engagement. He took it well all things considered and sent a present to the couple for their wedding day. He stopped at Aldbourne a week before the wedding as he was heading back to his squadron. He’d taken sympathy for Josie and the way her family had treated her.

“No, I’m not letting my best friend become homeless, even if she is marrying a Yank.” He jested, elbowing Josie softly. “No, you can use the lodge for as long as you need, Jojo and I won’t take no for an answer.” Josie had never meant to hurt William, they were childhood friends after all and she was glad he had taken the news so well.

Lewis guided her down the aisle and through the large oak doors that she had walked through half an hour earlier on Julian’s arm. Julian was grinning from ear to ear as he led her towards Lewis. As he passed Josie’s hand to Lewis, Julian leaned forward, “Look after her or you’ll have Jess to deal with and she’s scary when she’s mad.”

Lewis smirked, “I promise I’ll look after her.”

The group gathered outside the church for the photographer. Jess and Julian stood on either side, throwing confetti over the newly married couple. Josie couldn’t take her eyes off her new husband and Lewis couldn’t stop smiling. The pure joy in that moment was the happiest they had all felt in a long time.

Luckily the church was a short walk from The Crown and Buck was the first one up to the bar, “this rounds on me.” Lewis and Josie settled into the booth seats in a quiet corner both still too wrapped up in the events of the morning.

“Well I hate to say it Jess, but you’ve got some catching up to do,” Julian laughed, earning a kick under the table from Jess. “What? It’s true. I never thought Josie would be the first one to get married out of the three of us.” That earned Julian a kick from Josie and he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Julian’s right,” Buck exclaimed, returning to the table with a tray of drinks. “If you lot want to be married and have kids before we ship out you better hurry up.” Jess and Eugene’s cheeks went a bright crimson colour and they both looked nervously at each other. Lewis on the other hand just laughed and Josie wasn’t sure how to react. She knew she definitely wanted children with Lewis but did she want to be pregnant when he shipped out?

“I think it’s best if we wait until this whole debacle is over. The world right now is no place for children.” The others nodded in agreement with her and the mood suddenly felt sour.

Buck looked up, “Well, while you love birds are enjoying newly wedded bliss, myself and the other bachelors should be hitting the town, seeking out some female company.” He motioned to Julian, George and Dick whose turn it was now to be embarrassed.

“Suite yourself,” Buck stood, swigging the rest of his pint. “Congratulations Josie and Lewis.”

“Thank you, Buck,” the pair called as the white-haired man disappeared from view.

“I should be heading off too. I’m going up to London tomorrow for my final training day with my unit before we ship out,” Jess said, standing and engulfing Josie in a hug. “Congratulations Josie and Lewis. I’m so happy for you both.”

“I’ll go with you, Ma Chérie,” Eugene stood too, congratulating the couple before following Jess outside.

“We should probably head off too,” Julian stood, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Because you know George we’ve got that thing.”

“Yes the thing… that we have to do… yes!” George jumped to his feet and hurried off after Julian.

And so the pair were left alone. “Well that was strange,” Lewis said, watching out the window as their friends disappeared in pairs down the street. Dick was the only one left and even he looked like he was itching to leave but couldn’t find an excuse.

“Well, I think we should…”

“I’m going to…”

Dick and Lewis both stopped, encouraging the other to speak before Josie interrupted.

“Sorry to break up this awkward moment, Dick but I’m going to steal my husband away from you. Try not to miss him too much.” Dick chuckled, watching as Josie pulled Lewis along after her. Lewis was beaming from ear to ear as he waved goodbye to Dick who was still nursing his warm, frothy beer.

Josie woke up with the sun streaming in across her face, squinting against the soft rays she sighed contentedly. She felt herself moving closer in the tangle of soft cream sheets to run her fingers through Lewis’ soft brunette locks as he snored quietly beside her. His naked frame radiated heat beneath the sheets and Josie couldn’t help but blush as she thought back on the night's activities. As soon as they had reached the front door Lewis had picked her up, carrying her over the threshold with his lips sealed firmly to hers. They hadn’t made it to the bedroom at first, having stumbled into the kitchen, and then moving to the dining room before Lewis eventually carried her upstairs. Josie whined as she moved her legs under the covers, she knew they would be bruised from Lewis’ grip but it was worth it.

Lewis stirred beside her, a grin spreading across his lips and his eyelids fluttered open, big brown eyes starting up at her.

“Good morning, Mrs Nixon,” his voice was hoarse and deep from sleep and had Josie not been so wrapped up in the sheets she may have jumped on him for another round.

“Good morning, Mr Nixon,” she smiled back at him, kissing his stubbly cheek tenderly. His familiar scent of cigarettes and whiskey filled her nostrils and comforted her.

“Last night was…” Lewis stuttered, his eyes shone with adoration and love as they sparkled in the early golden glow.

“Incredible?” Josie finished his sentence, her lips turning upwards at the corners as she gazed upon her husband. Her husband. She still couldn’t quite believe that their whirlwind romance had come down to this.

“Yeah,” Lewis blushed a little and Josie thought it was even more endearing when he kissed her again. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled into her neck, sending a shiver down her spine as his lips brushed the tender spot on her neck.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Josie sighed, running her fingers up Lewis’ spine, her nails dancing over the scratches she had left the previous night. She pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart.

“Me too.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @sweetxvanixlla

#young love and old money #lewis nixon x oc #lewis nixon #band of brothers #band of brothers fics #band of brothers oc

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morganski-19 · 8 months

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I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 9: Fights

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 8

cw: grief

December 1984

Julie stares at the small journal in her hands. Carefully figuring out how to wrap it so it looks pretty like her mom’s. It’s not a perfect present either. Her mom always insisted that she didn’t need to get her anything for her birthday, it already being enough that Julie was here at all. But that felt cheap, wrong. Her mom provided so much for her, she didn’t even deserve the world if it could be given.

So, she did the only thing she could do, wrote a story. It’s been the same for the last few years, something quick and easy but meaningful. A picture of the two of them that she drew, was last years, and now a story to accompany it.

A story where the two of them were happy. Not that they weren’t now, just a different type of happy. In her story, they were living in a house, not a trailer. Three floors, each with its own secrets to unravel. Ghost stories come to life and pictures moving on their own. Journeys they two of them would undertake, just the two of them.

Because that’s how it always was. Julie and her mom, hand in hand and fighting through life together.

They didn’t need anyone else, didn’t want it half of the time. Every time a new person came into their life, it ruined it just a bit. Always disrupted the peace that Julie and her mom had made. And while it could be lonely sometimes, just the two of them, she wouldn’t change it one bit.

So, it felt wrong not to get her something on her birthday. Which was today and Julie can’t even figure out how to wrap it properly. Giving up, she just does it. Folds the paper and tapes it down. The corners are a bit wrinkled, and the paper is sideways, but it’s wrapped.

When she gives it to her mom over breakfast, it’s taken with a smile. The bad wrapping ignored for what’s inside. The hug her mother gives her with a thank you makes up for everything. It didn’t matter that the present wasn’t anything special, it was special to her mom, and to her. That’s all it needed to be.

. . .

Present Day, December 1986

“The place looks the same as when I came here before,” Sarah concludes, writing something in her folder. “Except for the new decorations in Julie’s room, of course.”

Steve stands next to Julie, patiently waiting for the inspection to be over. Even though it went fine, he made sure nothing incriminating was in the house, it still made him nervous. Sarah seemed to be on his side of this, but he was still unsure.

Julie leans against the railing, picking at the skin around her nails. It’s gotten worse in the past few days, bandaids starting to wrap around her thumbs these days. Her hair pulled back in loose braids to hide the fact that it isn’t washed.

There’s this feeling that something is up, and not like it has been before. That something, significant, is coming up. A date that she is now spending without her mom. And he wants to talk about it, but she keeps shutting him out before he can even try. He just doesn’t know what to do.

“I just have some questions to ask the two of you, and then I’ll be on my way. Steve, how about you first.”

Steve nods and leads Sarah to the kitchen table, sitting across from her. She opens a different folder from the one she used in the inspection, glancing at what is inside before looking up at him.

“I had a few more questions about you before I get to discussing the adjustment. You said that you started taking care of the financial aspects of the house since you were sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s right.”

“Was that the first time your parents left you alone when they went on one of their trips?”

The urge to lie is strong. Just say that it was and get it over with, no one had to know the true extent of what his parents did. But she’s looking at him with the same concern she’d give Julie. That she’s looking out for him as well as her. And for the first time in his life, he feels the need to tell another adult the truth.

“Uh, no. They’ve been going on long trips since I was eight. Never as long as it was when I turned sixteen, but not that short either.”

A sourness turns in Sarah’s eyes with a slight twitch. He tenses, thinking it is geared toward him. But as she scribbles something in a file with his name, he can’t help but think it’s the same anger he’s been feeling for years.

“When you were eight, who was watching you?”

“Nannies mostly.”

“How many years did they hire nannies.”

Steve scratches at the back of his neck, trying to think. “Until I was twelve, thirteen maybe. At least the overnight ones, day to day ones stayed for another two or so years before there was none at all.”

A deep sigh escapes from her mouth as she continues to write. “How long were their trips then? Shorten than now.”

“Yeah. They were a month or two back then, getting longer as I got older. But when I turned sixteen, that’s when the longest one was.”

“And how long was that one?”

“Two years,” he says, for the first time letting it sink in how long it really was.

He knew that it was wrong that they left him alone, that much was obvious. When he was little, he used to cry and wish that they would come home. That they would want him. The hurt turned into anger with age, and now is just a distant memory.

The anger’s still there but trapped behind a veil of other people had it worse. At least he had a roof over his head and a never-ending cash flow to keep himself fed. A job that he went to every day and a car that he didn’t have to pay for. It was just how it was, and there was nothing Steve could do to change that.

But he’ll watch the Byers’, the Henderson’s, the Sinclair’s, and the Wheeler’s, Robin’s parents and Eddie’s uncle. All people who are there, for the most part, that want their kids. It’s hard to ignore the sting in his chest when he goes over for holiday dinners without his parents. Watching the other kids be loved by the people who created them. But it was fine because he made his own family with them. He had family because of them.

It was enough, until it wasn’t. Enough until his father called to berate him, and all that was left was the question of what he could do to earn his father’s love. His father’s respect, admiration. The answer was always nothing, and it was a simple fact that Steve accepted long ago.

“So, I’m going to hand you something, and it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it, ok.” Sarah closes the folder she was writing in and slides it across the table.

“Ok,” he takes the folder and opens it. Inside is a list of evidence, with notes of how to gather materials to prove it, as well as a pamphlet on how to sue your parents for neglect, and the business card of a lawyer. “What is this?”

“Things I’ve started to write down since our last talk. It’s clear, from the way you talk about them, that they have neglected you. Which is why I asked you more questions about it today and given you this folder. If you would like to, you can sue them for neglect and, if there’s a paper trail of what you’ve said, probably win.”

Thoughts cloud his mind, making it impossible to fully grasp at what she’s saying. Sue his parents, clear neglect. Ruin the little relationship he has with his parents, for what, money. Proving in front of a court the exact type of people they were. Ruin their reputation among the public, and his among their friends because he stood up. Does he really want that?

“Of course, you don’t have to do it, not if you’re not comfortable with it. But, if you were to ever want reparations for the way they treated you, the evidence is there. And it’s damning.”

Steve opens his mouth a few times, but the words don’t come out. “I-I’ll think about it,” is all he can figure out what to say. Not a yes, but also not a no.

“Ok, let’s move on to something else, alright.”

“Ok.”

. . .

Julie is sitting at her lunch table, half falling asleep over her uncompleted math homework. She couldn’t get it done after the check in yesterday. Stress about what was going to come of it, that she might be moved again, had filled most of her day yesterday. Then she was too empty to think of doing anything other than lying in her bed. So, no homework got done.

Not like that was an uncommon occurrence these days. Homework seemed so trivial to the rest of her life. Moving houses, adjusting to new places. Grieving. All of it’s too much already, she doesn’t need to have homework piled on top of it.

Last night was bad, worst than normal. Which is to be expected of this week, but it still hurt. All the questions Sarah asked her to make sure she was adjusting, that she liked it there.

“Do you like it here, Julie?” she asked across the kitchen table.

“Yes,” Julie answered because it was the truth. But only half of it. “I do.”

Sarah had seemed satisfied with her answers, ending the meeting with a promise to be there if she should ever need it. If she would need to move again. Julie didn’t want to move again, she did really like it at Steve’s. There was just something missing, and that was the sad fact of Julie’s existence.

The worst part of it all is that his house started to feel like hers too. Her room was actually her room, with it’s painted walls and posters found at the thrift store. Clothes in the overflowing laundry bin, schoolwork scattered across all the surfaces. It’s her dishes in the sink and her tv program on pause in the living room.

Julie was finally starting to feel at home. Which was the problem.

“Can I ask you a question,” Max asks, breaking Julie out of her thoughts. “You totally don’t have to answer it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. But I’ve been thinking about it and Steve mentioned that you two are living together now, and I just. Are you ok? Like really ok?”

“I’m fine,” Julie responds coldly, packing up her math homework.

“Yeah, no, I get that. It’s just, when Billy died, I was really going through it, and I didn’t really want to talk about it that much. But it helps, to talk about it, sometimes. And I’m here for you, we’re here for you, me and Jane. We’ve both dealt with this kind of stuff, so if you wanted to talk about it, you could. With us, I mean.”

They’re looking at her like they understand, and they might. But this isn’t the run of the mill thing here. Loosing a brother sucks, Julie’s sure, but she knows they weren’t as close as losing her mom. And Jane, well she didn’t know a lot about Jane so she can’t really speak on that.

This pain was hers and hers alone, and no one can really know what she’s going through. Not the counselors pulling her out of classes to talk to her, not her teachers asking to talk to her after class. Not even then, her only friends she’s had in a long time.

“I told you, I’m fine,” she spits.

She tries not to feel angry when people ask about it. Tries not to feel angry when they try to connect with her. Show that they care. Because she should be grateful that people still care about her. That there are other people who give a shit other than her mom. And a part of her is, but the rest of her stings with the knowledge that they’re only here because her mom is gone.

Max readjusts herself, pressing her lips together. “I get it, I do. Just know that we’re here.”

“Steve was just worried about you,” Jane adds, innocently.

“Jane,” Max exclaims, “We weren’t supposed to tell her that part.”

The only reason she ever met Steve in the first place was because she really had nothing else. And while she was always going to tell him about her existence, of his father’s affair, she’s not so sure she would have done it in the way she did. Meeting him was the last lifeline she had after everything, so she had to take it. It worked out, and she’s grateful.

And now he’s there and he cares, and it should be great, but it hurts. Every time he gives her the look of “I care about you, just know that I’m here” her heart burns because it will never be the same. He’s opened his home to her, worked to take her in, changed his life to accommodate her. She wouldn’t change it, wouldn’t take it all back. It’s nice to have somebody. But he’s not her mom and never will be.

Every time he does something remotely close to what her mom did, she gets a burst of rage. It shows her exactly what she has lost, and what it has meant for her, and she hates it.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Julie says while slinging her bag over her shoulder. She takes her full lunch bag and dumps it into the trash on her way out of the lunchroom, heading straight to the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind her, she heads for an empty stall. She sits on the toilet, pulling the long chain of her locket from underneath her shirt. Opening it to find what’s always been there, a picture of her and her mom. Small and cut off weird, but it didn’t matter.

Tears stream down her face as quiet sobs rip through her chest. She grips the small charm close to her heart and stares at the ceiling.

“Why?” she whispers in the empty bathroom. “Just why?”

. . .

The phone rings on Steve’s nightstand, pulling him out of his sleep. He rolls over to reach the phone, dragging Eddie with him, arms gripped around Steve’s waist.

“Let it keep ringing,” Eddie mumbles into Steve’s shoulder. “Sleep.”

“Can’t, might be the school.” Steve swats Eddie away, finally able to sit up and reach the phone.

Eddie rolls onto his back in protest. “Right, you have responsibilities now. That’s not weird at all.”

“Shut up,” Steve says while picking up the phone. “Harrington residence.”

“Hi, is this Steve?” the woman on the line says.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m Mrs. Peters, Julie’s English teacher. You’re listed as her guardian, and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is she ok?” He’s half ready to jump out of bed and run out the door if he needs to. Well, after putting clothes on.

Mrs. Peters sighs through the line. “Truth is, I’m not sure. I’ve had Julie in class before, and she was such a good student. One of the brightest I had. Her essays were so thoughtful and her creative writing assignments, they were beautiful. It’s all changed this year. She’s barely turning assignments in, and half asleep most of the time. I know what happened with her mom earlier this year, such a tragedy. And it’s expected that students who go through such a loss will slip a little with grades. But she skipped my class today, so I wanted to give you a call. I’m worried about her.”

Steve leans back on his headboard with a sigh. “I am too. I’ve tried to talk to her about this, but it’s always shut down.”

“I’m sure it’s a hard topic for her to talk about it.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s all I really called for, to see if she’s getting the support she needs at home. I remember you, had you a few years ago when I was teaching seniors. You were a good kid when you started trying, I know you’ll take good care of her.”

His heart warms with some sort of pride. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’m really trying here.”

“I’m sure she knows that. I hope things go better for you, and you’ll be able to talk to her about this. Thank you for stepping up and taking her in.”

“Wasn’t that hard of a decision once I got to know her.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t. I’ll let you go. Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks for calling bye.” He hangs up the phone, sliding back down under his covers.

Eddie rolls over to look at him. “The school.”

“Yeah,” Steve says while staring at the ceiling. “Remember Mrs. Peters, she’s Julie’s English teacher. Said she missed class today, hasn’t been turning work in.”

Eddie hums. “You’re worried about her.”

How can he not be? When all he sees is the empty shell of a person some days. And he knows that’s not what she’s normally like. Because she’s bright and funny on the better days. And so, so caring.

It was there more in the middle, not the beginning, and not now. But if the night they first met was day one, and this is now day whatever it is. Right in the middle, he could see her, without the sadness that looms in her eyes. Just last week he saw it too, when they were picking up stuff for her room and painting it all. She was there. But the sadness came back again.

“It’s not like I’m expecting her to magically get better, for her grief to go away. I just,” he takes a deep breath. “I just want her to know that I’m here, that she can talk to me. Cause I might not know exactly what she’s going through, but I know enough about it. And even if I didn’t, I’m here to listen.”

He rolls on his side to face Eddie. Eddie takes his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“I just keep getting caught up in this loop of saying I want to help her. To let her know that I’m here. So she doesn’t have to go through this alone. But I never know how to say it, or show it, so I just don’t. And the days keep going on, and she’s still isolating herself. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s hard, I know,” Eddie comforts. “And, as someone who lost a parent kinda like she did, it sucks, a lot. You think the world has ended and you’re left all alone. You’re angry, and sad, and so many emotions you just can’t name. But can I tell you something that you’re doing right?”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. “What.”

“You’re showing her that you care. You take her out and change her room, despite the fears that you have. You ask her about her day, and make sure she has food to eat. You make her feel safe, Steve. That is more than any kid can ask for during this time. And while you’re still going to feel like you’re not doing enough. You’re doing the best that you can. If you want to ask her about her mom, you can, it just might not be met with the reaction you want it to.”

He lets out a long breath. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to say something. It’s already so weird knowing that we’re related. And knowing that the only reason I know that is because her mom died. It feels weird.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “How are you doing with all of this? We haven’t really talked about it since when it first happened.”

Better, Steve thinks. He’s doing better. Even though he now wakes up in his painted room and almost goes into a panic attack. Even though he goes to a job he knows his dad hates. And now provides a home to the kid his dad never wanted.

It’s been hard accepting that he’s officially throwing away the role his parents expected him to play. That he’s finally breaking the last bit of relationship he has between them. He’s finally willing to leave. To have the life he wants, not what they want.

They want the wife and the kids with the picket fences and a good paying job. A respected, get a degree first kind of job. Where the anxieties and the nightmares never happen, and the trauma doesn’t exist. Where Steve’s hearing is normal, and his brain isn’t damaged. Where the scars aren’t there, and he won’t flinch every time the light flickers.

And while some of those things he still wants in his life. The kids, the house, a good paying job. Some aspects of his life are irreversible, unchanging. He didn’t ask for them, but that doesn’t mean they never happened. It’s a part of his life that they will never accept, or even know about.

“As good as I can be. I think a part of me will always hate him, for what he did. To me, and to Julie. And I’m tired of thinking that there will be a day where I’m not a disappointment to him. Especially when there are some parts of my life that I know would get me kicked out of the house. Out of his life. But” he takes a breath, “I don’t want to have a dad if that means I can’t be who I am.”

Eddie smiles, soft with a bit of pain. “It hurts to hear you say that, because I want you to have a family that will love you for all the amazing things that you are. But I am so proud of you for getting to a place where you can say that. I know it was hard.”

“It was,” Steve says, tears gathering in his eyes.

“C’mere,” Eddie pulls him into a hug, holding Steve close as everything lets go.

It was a lot of work getting to the place he is. Time and effort and tears. Years of built up, years of pain. But as the world came crumbling around him, he found more happiness in other people than he has in his entire life. Friends he never would have associated with, a family he never thought he would have.

And here in the bed his father paid for is a man that Steve likes, might even be starting to love. It’s the biggest fuck you he could have ever sent his father’s way. Because in Eddie’s arms, everything starts to fit into place. Everything finally made sense. He is finally, truly, himself.

Steve built himself a home. With Eddie, with Robin, with the kids, with Julie. He had his family, and nothing was going to take that from him now.

. . .

Julie just wants to go home. Wants to crawl into her bed and pray for sleep to come so this awful day can be over. Screw the test she has tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not today, and not tomorrow. The sadness will keep coming back, no matter how hard she tries.

She’s just so tired of it being like this. Of having good days where it hurts a bit less, where she can smile and actually mean it. But then waking up the next day and feeling like everything is terrible and never going to get better. Where she can have good days like last weekend, just followed with terrible days like today.

And she knew this day was coming, and knew it was going to be hard. She knew that the day before, and the day after, hell the whole week would be rough. That the grief was going to hit its highest peak since that first week. But it was worse than she could have ever thought.

Steve has off from work today, which means when Julie walks out of the high school doors, his car is in its usual spot next to Eddie’s van. She’ll have to make conversation on the drive back, before being able to escape to her room.

It’s just twenty minutes, she tells herself. Twenty more minutes of an impossible day, before she can stop pretending.

“Hey,” Steve says when she walks up to his car.

She mumbles a small hello before shuffling into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a thud behind her. Steve says a goodbye to Eddie before climbing into the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the parking lot without a word.

“How was school?” he prompts, fishing for something. Like he knows.

Julie hates that. It’s just another thing that pangs in her chest. Something her mom would do countless times when she knew something was bothering Julie. Only another reminder that she isn’t here today. That Julie’s living with someone else.

Leaning her head against the window, watching the trees fly by as they drive, she tries to stay calm. Tries to find a normal way to respond so he’ll just stop.

“Like it always is,” she whispers, just audible enough that he’ll hear it, but quite enough so he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it.

He must understand because it’s the last thing he tries to talk about in the car. She just wraps her coat tighter around her, closing herself up as much as possible. Trying to convince her brain that just because she left the school, the tears aren’t allowed to break through again. She already cried in a bathroom today, she didn’t need to do it in his car either.

“Hey, could we talk for a minute?” Steve asks when they get home, stopping Julie from immediately locking herself away in her room.

She can’t help the eyeroll that comes, the visible slump in her shoulders as she turns to face him. Crossing her arms across her chest, coming off defensive to hide the range of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

“What,” she says more bitter than she’d like to admit.

Steve flinches, not expecting the harshness in her voice. He takes a breath, trying to think of what to say, like it’s important. She can’t deal with another thing today.

“I got a call from one of your teachers today, Mrs. Peters. She said you missed class,” he says it with a level voice, face full of concern.

It does nothing but make her blood boil. He wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to care. That wasn’t supposed to be his job. Steve was her brother, not her parent. Julie didn’t have one of those anymore. And the face he’s making is the one she would see all the time, practically lived on her mom’s face sometimes.

“So,” she rolls her eyes. Wishing he would just drop it.

It’s like the two images of them are morphing together in her mind. Her mom and Steve becoming one person. Like he’s replacing her, becoming the new person in her life to fill that role. He didn’t get to do that. She didn’t get to forget her mom. Even if she doesn’t live in the same house anymore, even if her life has changed. It was never supposed to.

“So. I’m worried about you. You’re missing class and skipping meals. You think I don’t notice when you go to school in the same clothes as the day before. I know that this all has to be a lot for you, believe me I know how life can just take everything and spit you out expecting you to recover like nothing happened. I know-.”

“You don’t know,” Julie bursts, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “You can’t possibly know what it’s like. It’s bad enough that you ask my friends to try to talk to me about it, at school even. You don’t get to say that you know what I’m going through.”

Steve takes a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t ask them to talk to you about it.”

“But you mentioned it to them, isn’t that enough.” She’s yelling now. Anger that she knows is misplaced, hitting the only target it could find.

“And I’m not saying I know what you’re going through. I’m saying that I’ve been in a place like yours before and it sucks. It’s one of the worst things a person can go through.”

“I get that you had a sad childhood, and your parents were never around. But that doesn’t give you the right to compare your situation to mine.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it. An arrow perfectly aimed just to get him to shut up. To get him to hurt enough to leave her alone. Because she can be mad at him. He’s here to be mad at. Giving her every opportunity to.

Because she can’t be mad at her mom. Julie can’t be mad at her for leaving her alone. For leaving at all. How can she be mad at the dead for leaving. She can wish and pray and beg the universe for her mom to come back. Cry a river of tears caused by the unbelievable grief that it’s left her in. Be upset with all that’s happened to her. Wonder what went wrong that night to take it all away from her.

But angry. No, that wasn’t allowed. She’s not allowed to be angry at her mom, especially for this.

Her words hit their mark, making Steve stop for a second. For his eyes to glaze over just a bit before he blinks it away. She should be remorseful, should take back everything she said and get it over with. But for a small second, she thinks that this might be over. That she can just run away without saying another word and cry herself to sleep for the third night in a row.

But instead, he keeps talking.

“That’s not what I was talking about, but that doesn’t matter. The point of all of this, was to tell you that I’m here if you ever want to talk.” The levelness of his voice is gone, and all that is left is bitterness behind his words. Just like she wanted, but it still stings. For reasons that she can’t quite explain even if she wanted to. But she’s tired of talking, so she just explodes.

“Just stop ok,” she pleads through her raised voice. “You’re not my mom.”

Her chest heaves with her words, the arrow coming back and hitting her instead. Tears well up in her eyes as she grabs her bag, running up the stairs before he can say anything else. And she’s pretty sure he does, but she can’t hear it. Doesn’t care that she didn’t.

Instead, she slams her door and falls into her bed. Not her bed, actually. Because her bed is back in the trailer park with her mom in the other room. Now it’s empty with nothing but her mother’s ghost, and Julie’s not even there to try and say hello.

. . .

“I’m not trying to be,” Steve says as Julie’s running up the stairs. She slams her bedroom door, isolating herself and blocking him out.

It could have gone better. A lot better. It actually went to shit. He didn’t know how else to do it. And he should have just waited, he saw what she was like in the car. That far off distant look as she just gazed out the window and didn’t talk. Not like he would ever force her to, but he wanted her to.

There was a day a few weeks ago where he picked her up, and she was so talkative. Told him about this book that she was reading for a book report and how much she liked it. How she saw herself in the main character, and loved how the world was crafted. Went on a on about it for the whole ride, and even past that. It was great, it was her.

That day, he saw past the grief that’s been encapsulating her. To the girl she was before the accident, before her mom passed. He just wanted to be able to see it more often sometimes.

It’s not like he was trying to speed run her grief, he never would. It just hurt to see her come home every day and shove all her feelings away just to keep a neutral face. To hide the fact that she was hurting from him. He didn’t have the right to see how she really felt, but he wanted to offer the key if she ever wanted to open the door.

So, he tried to, but look where that ended.

He runs a hand through his hair, keeping his hand and the back of his neck with a long exhale. Thoughts rushing through his head on how he can fix this. How he can apologize for pushing, and just take back everything that happened.

It’s an impossible task, he knows. Time, she just needs a little time to cool down. And Steve does too. The focus is on her, but he can’t ignore what she said either. Even if it wasn’t the worst this in the world, it was just enough to make him falter. To make him a little angry. Upset. He knew the technique well. Hurt someone else just because you’re hurting. Doesn’t make it right, but he knows.

Steve’s not angry at Julie, not for what she said. If anything, he’s just sad. Hurts for her and what she is going through. How even though he knows grief, he doesn’t know this. Losing a parent is something he never experienced, not like this. But he still wants to reach out.

He gives it an hour, lets her have her space. For her to cool down, and for him to as well. Let’s what happened settle in, so it’s not rushed.

Standing in front of Julie’s door, he knocks gently. She doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t hear music coming through the room, but that doesn’t mean she’s listening. He still talks anyway.

“Julie. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that, and I didn’t mean to make you upset. I could have been gentler, could have said it differently. And probably could have waited for a better time. But I’ve been worried about you for a while now. And while you probably don’t want me to be, it’s true. You’re my sister, and while we haven’t known each other for a long time, I still care about you.”

He pauses, thinking about what to say, and how to say it. To tread lightly. Deciding it’s best just to take a step back, just a bit.

“I’m going to be honest, I have,” he takes a deep breath, “no idea what I’m doing. When you showed up at my door that night, I didn’t know what was going to happen past that. What I did know, is that I wanted to help you. I wanted to get to know the sister that I never knew, that I was never given the chance to know. And you let me, you let me give you a space in my house, you let me into your life. Sure, there were a lot of other factors in there that I’m sure influenced that decision, but I hope at least part of it was that you wanted to get to know me too.”

Steve rests his head on the door, willing himself to just find a point to this. “You’re right, I have no clue what you’re going through. The other things in my life that I’ve gone through, they might be similar, but they’re not the same. And I would never say that they are. But I’m here for you, whether you want me to or not. You’re the only blood related family I got, too. I’m not going away that easy. But I can never know how you’re feeling if you don’t let me in.”

He waits a minute, seeing if she would open the door. But the hall clock’s second hand the only sound filling the space, so he steps back and turns to walk away. Until the door lock clicks.

“What about your parents?” Julie asks, door open.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs, He might have done something a little right.

“I was sixteen when they left for two years straight with barely a phone call from them every few months. The only time they came back was to reprimand me for not getting into college the day of my high school graduation. They didn’t even go to the ceremony. I might be related to them, but they’re no family.”

Julie stares at him with tears still painting her eyes. Hair falling out of her ponytail and sweatshirt sleeve cuffs still a little damp. “You were left alone, here, all by yourself at sixteen?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I know a little what it’s like to be left behind at this age. Not the same, but not entirely different.”

She opens the door a little more, motioning with her head for him to come in. He walks into the room, sitting down next to her at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t really mean it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for pushing.”

Wiping a fresh tear off her cheek, she pulls something from underneath the bed and holds it in her lap. A small journal. “Don’t be. I think I needed you too, just a little bit.”

“Can I ask what that is?”

Julie presses her lips together, blinking away a lingering tear. She hands him the journal, letting him take it. He doesn’t look in it though, it doesn’t feel right.

“I pretty much have a journal a year, sometimes two.” She points to the tall stack of journals on her desk. “Every year since I was seven. I wrote stories in them, journal entries, and drew pictures with them. A few years ago, I got an empty journal to write a story in for my mom. And every year, I would ask for it back and write a new story in it. It was her birthday present every year.”

He looks at the journal in his hand, already knowing where this is going. “I’m sure she loved it.”

“She did,” Julie whispered. “I never got to finish the one for this year. After everything that happened, just couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Let alone finish it.’

“I’m sure she would understand, you’ve had a rough couple of months.”

“Yeah,” she lets out a shaky breath. Leaning her head back on the foot of the bed and looking up towards the ceiling. “Today’s her birthday,” she chokes out. “And I just feel so guilty for not finishing it.”

Steve doesn’t quite know what to do, but he’s trying. “Hey,” he places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” Tears start to roll down her cheeks faster than she can wipe away. “I’m just so sad that she’s gone, and then I get angry. I get angry at her for leaving, and at the accident for happening. Then I get upset for being angry because I know it wasn’t her fault. I can’t be mad at her for something that’s not her fault.”

“You still have a right to feel whatever you are about it all though. Be mad at the universe, not her. Be upset that she’s not here anymore, wish that she was here. All of those things.” He laughs in his head about the irony of what he’s saying, about what he’s going to say. How it took other people telling him to do the same thing for him to finally let himself feel. “Keeping it all bottled up, ignoring that they’re there and telling yourself that you shouldn’t feel this way. That’s not healthy, believe me.”

Julie looks at him, finally. Eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears. “I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

The dam lets itself loose and Julie crumbles, leaning toward Steve as she breaks. He pulls her into a hug similar to the one that he gave Dustin months prior when they were waiting in hospital rooms. Holding her close to shield away the bad, as the emotions ignored to keep appearances finally break free. Letting her know that he’s safe, and he’s here.

That he’ll always be here.

Part 10

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

#stranger things #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #long lost/secret sibling #steve has a sibling #steve harrington #julie lawson #eddie munson #steddie #max mayfield #el hopper #angst #cw grief #tw grief #i don't know which ways home fic

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eris-snow · 1 year

Text

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬

Tags: 7 reasons why I love you, shoto x fem!reader, angst, fluff

New Year’s Day is special, because as fireworks shot off into the air, it siginfied new beginings. And that was exactly what this was for the both of you.

Time can’t stay stagnant, though. The last week of December was a busy one, but Shoto remembers it as clear as day.

Shoto could feel it, could feel you cherishing these last few weeks together because, in less than 3 weeks, you’d be off again. He could understand why you were so tense.

He didn’t want you to go either, but you couldn’t stay with your duties back in your kingdom. People were taking down Christmas decorations, the year on the verge of starting up once more as his coronation loomed closer than ever.

His relatives and friends from close kingdoms were all starting to arrive at the castle, palace more festive than it had ever been in his life.

Excitement, he realised, was very similar to the feeling of anticipation. It was a prickly sort of feeling, but in a good way.

It was the word he would use to describe how he felt, because…

“You’ve gotten rusty, haven’t you, Half-and Half! What’s up with your sloppy movements?” Katsuki snarled, deflecting his blade easily and counterattacking viciously. Katsuki was a marquess of his kingdom, but he never visited often due to his work and schooling. It was only on occasions like this that his presence was required, and he’d come even if he hated it.

Shoto took a few steps back, being forced to parry his friend’s blows. “Is it because I called you my best friend in front of your parents?” Shoto asked, countering. “I thought we were rather close, Bakugou—”

“Stop being cocky, you pompous snob!” Katsuki yelled, thrusting his blade forward. The Bakugous were thanking Shoto for still putting up with their son, even though Shoto assured them that he was a good friend. Katsuki was holding back every word of denial through that entire 5 minutes. “As if being ‘favoured’ by you is a godsend. We’re the same damn age!”

Shoto laughed, enjoying the lively banter. The marquess was always refreshing to have around, just like you were to him.

Katsuki knocked the sword out of Shoto’s hand, pointing his own at the prince accusingly. “With all due respect, you stink, Half and Half.”

“I do not, I can still wipe the floor with you.” Shoto huffed, getting up on his feet. “I was caught off guard.”

There was silence between them for a second, before the marquess drew back his sword and averted his piercing red eyes.

“I saw it.”

Shoto blinked at the question perplexed. “Excuse—”

“The wedding…” Katsuki gritted out as if it tasted bad on his tongue. “It’s all over the newspapers. It’s scheduled for the week after your coronation. I saw it.”

Shoto paused, not quite sure how to react. He might be good at reading people, but Katsuki was even better, more alert and attuned than Shoto in ways people had yet to realise. There was no hiding anything for him.

“Don’t tell me you’re taking this lying down, Todoroki.” Katsuki continued, voice getting more grating by the second. “I know what Yaoyorozu is like, you don’t like her. I know you don’t.” Bakugou peered at him curiously.

“It’s for the kingdom, Bakugou—”

“Poppycock!” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Your father might be abdicating the throne because of his family issues, but it doesn’t give him the right to do what he likes until your coronation!”

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Shoto said, folding his arms. “It’s not like I can call it off, all the guests are planning to stay an extra week to see it happen. The Yaoyorozus would never agree to it.”

“Think, blockhead,” Katsuki replied, finally turning to look at him in the eyes. “My mother always said this to me and I always found it a load of hogwash, but I think your two brain cells need to hear it.”

“There are only two paths to go down. The one you choose, or the one others choose for you.”

Katsuki drew away, finally sheathing his sword.

“Your pick, Half-and-Half.”

—

Perhaps Katsuki’s words had got to him, because those words rang in Shoto’s head even while he tried falling asleep.

It was haunting because he knew time was ticking. If he didn’t choose now, he’d be swept away with his life, his crowning, his new fiancee and their over-the-top wedding as they chant vows he’d never be able to mean.

He’s thought of bargaining, of renouncing his title, of running away with you because wouldn’t you want that too? To live away from politics and the monarchy and everything that made his blood boil about this system.

And as New Year rolled around, he devised a strategy, how you would get out of the palace with him and get out of this cruel life forced upon the both of you.

Everything would be perfect.

“Sho?” You broke through his thoughts, making him look up at you. A smile automatically took shape on his face when he saw your familiar figure with a lamp in one hand and your handy picnic basket in the other.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Midnight snacks?”

“Just a few,” You answered, bringing out the apples with a mischievous grin. “Got the maids to get me some.”

Shoto’s hands were sweating as he took your hand in his. “You sure you can keep doing this? You look exhausted.”

“Could say the same about you.” You countered, shaking your head. “It’s alright. I want to see you.”

Shoto’s heart clenched. You always did have the bad habit of staying up until the wee hours of the morning. Part of Shoto hated that he was contributing to that.

In his eyes, your flaws were beautiful, because they made you you. He knew that Yaoyorozu bothered you, with her presence and picture-ready smile. Shoto hoped you realised that the whole reason he liked you was because of who you were.

“A dance?” He initiated, rising from his seat with a hopeful look on his face.

Your grin stretched wider. “How could I refuse?”

It was like all those nights before, but Shoto’s heart was hammering against his chest. What was this feeling called again?

The feeling of sweating, even though you were in the middle of winter.

The feeling of his hands shaking, his breath quivering, just at the look of you?

Would he sacrifice everything, his life, his career and his reputation…just to be with you?

The answer came back resounding, leaving no room for debate.

“Snowflake?”

“Hm?’

It was now or never.

“Let’s run away together.”

The lamp lighting the porch is dim, but he could still see your face explode with countless emotions. Your eyebrows raised and your movements stuttered, but you didn’t stop dancing as he guided you through another round. “Let's run away, me and you.” He repeated. The words rushed out of him as he continued spewing without a filter for the first time in his life.

“We can live somewhere small on a farm, somewhere, anywhere, I'm okay with it as long as I'm with you. Snowflake…we don’t have to conform to this society like this,” Shoto said, getting more confident as he went on. “I’ll renounce my position, I’ll be a runaway groom. My brother has disappeared and so can I. We can finally be free.” Slowing his movements, he stood still and looked into your eyes.

Your eyes softened expression falling into one of the happiest he’s seen from you ever before. “Oh, Sho…” you inhaled, eyes watering.

Yes! Shoto remembered this feeling, he remembered elation well. Fireworks shot off in the sky, signalling New Year’s day.

You would do it! You would run…away…

Shoto’s smile collapsed when you hid your face, tears spilling over as you sniffled. Something’s wrong.

Shoto brushed a hand on your head, before it traced your cheek. It was wet with tears.

Something was very wrong.

“Snowflake…?”

Why wouldn’t you stop crying?

“Sho…” You breathed, staring up at him with pained eyes.

“I can’t do it.”

· · ───── ✽✦✽───── · ·

Also the “There are only two paths to go down. The one you choose, or the one others choose for you.” quote is inspired by Enola Holmes, so—

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #angst #mha shoto #shoto fluff #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #royalty au #royalty #7 Reasons Why I Love You

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chimkin-samich · 1 year

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Honestly, what started your interest with these specific game characters? (Btw, I don't know if this has been asked before or not since I'm quite new to you and your comics! Amazing work btw.)

Also what peeked your guy's drawing and writing interests? It would be interesting to know how you guys got to this point. 😁

(It's also creepy how the ask thing is just like: "Go ahead, put anything." XD)

It has not actually been asked before! Your the first, so for anyone who’s interested in some Feral and Sly lore well feel free to click the read more since it’s kinda long lol

For the interest in Sun/Moon/Eclipse, Feral was honestly the first one to get drawn in, she has been a long time fan of fnaf, likes to brag about how good she was at the first few games (she is I’ve seen it lol) so her getting interested in SB was obvious, she especially like this one for it highly interactive gameplay

I on the other hand knew of fnaf but I was never in the fandoms or played any games, anything I knew about the games was either seen while scrolling thru tumblr or my little brother blasting a gameplay in our room and I didn’t mind listening in if it was YouTuber I liked as well

Feral got a bit interested in the boys after reading a few fics around last year June, she tried to catch my attention but I didn’t really bite at the time, it was around August were she caught my attention when she first drew them, saying they reminded her of me, even drew Sun with chipped rays as a little call to my SH scars but it kinda dropped off since we were in the midst of fighting with the system to let us get married lol

Around December it really kicked in for her and then me, I started delving into reading fics and searching for fan art and was like “oh shit das me” and feral ran with it saying let’s do self insert shit and I was totally down for it, it wasn’t the first time we did something we’re she put herself in and I was a character that I related to heavily

From there we started planning the storyline but decided to do little meant to be yours animatic to kick off some attention towards our stuff lol

As for what got us interested into writing and drawing? Honestly the answer is the same for both of us, we started drawing young them jumped into writing for our own little stories and ideas, we’ve both always been artistic from a young age and when we met it was one of the first things we bonded over, oh and I do also have a passion for singing as well! Which also caught her attention I used to send her audios all the time or sing on call for her

Just something about being able not only to write your own stories but create visual pieces really helps when you have extremely hyperactive minds and imagination, sometimes we yell at each other cuz someone says something cursed and cuz of how we can perfectly see the image in our mind it makes the cursed thought so much worse 😭

But yeah that’s pretty much it! Love of creativity and such started our art and writing passion and that led to us wanting to create our stuff now here with the lovely robo boys, we do have our projects of course, Feral plans on making a comic/book (2 in one kinda thing) that’s gonna be a trilogy and I have my own OC’s that I still world build with

Not to mention all our world building with OCs weve plan on making into story’s as well in the future ✨

#mods speaketh #mod sly

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lunartadpole · 2 years

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December, 1991.

Welcome to Hawkins

It's snowing, white puffs hit against the windscreen in a beautiful manner. And there's a certain tension in the car as it drives past the all too familiar sign. It's like a weight pressed down on his chest, and the thickness of the air makes it difficult to breathe. Eddie doesn't know for certain if Nancy can feel it too, but as the car rolls down the road, her demeanor changes; she straightens up her back and sighs heavily, like she's only just realised what a horrific idea this whole thing is. Whereas, Eddie realised that on the drive to the airport.

They didn't talk much on the plane. Or, well, they did but just not about anything they actually wanted to talk about. As Nancy went on about one of her stories and a lead she was chasing, Eddie could tell that she was just itching to know why he left, why he didn't tell anyone he was going; and Eddie couldn't really blame her, because the whole time she was talking his mind was just screaming for him to ask How's Wayne? Is he still living in Loch Nora? Is Steve? What does Steve look like now? Has his freckles faded from the lack of summer sun? Has his hair grown? Has he cut it? Does he miss Eddie? Does he hate him?

"Is it alright if we stop off at my house first?" Nancy interrupts the silence between them which had otherwise been filled with radio static. "Just so I can drop off my bags and say hello to my Mom. I'll take you to the trailer park after."

The trailer park?

He must say that out loud, because Nance shoots him a side-glance of confusion. Then realisation dawns on her. "Oh yeah, right. You wouldn't know. Uh, Wayne got a new trailer after you left. It's right next to Max's."

She's purposely leaving out details, Eddie doesn't like feeling like he's on the outside of something. But again, he doesn't press. Because he's scared of the answer. Instead, he turns his gaze back out the window, watching as the tree line morphs into town. And Christ, it's like Eddie never left, or Hawkins has just been staggered in time, constantly unchanging. Frozen like the ice on the road. They drive downtown, all the stores swarmed with people fighting to get the last turkey, or the last toy for their kids; Eddie remembers Steve coming home with a blackeye and a turkey that looked like it had been exploded and put back together, dramatically recounting his experience with a feisty old woman like he was some kind of war hero. And a ghost of a smile finds its way to his lips at the thought of Steve Harrington. Stupid, sweet, thoughtful Steve Harrington, who only bought a turkey that year because Eddie told him he and Wayne never did the whole Christmas Dinner thing.

They drive past Family Video, and if that isn't a big kicker for nostalgia. The building is lit up with those awful flickering lights, and windows are decorated with the same Santa window stickers and tinsel Eddie was forced to put up when he drew the short straw. He swore he was going to get frostbite putting up those lights, all the while Robin and Steve laughed at him with their warm coffee cups heating up their hands. "Bastards," Eddie spat, but he was smiling, teeth chattering from the cold.

He wonders if those two still work there, wonders if the break room still smells of moldy cheese from Keith's lunch. He wonders if Robin was the first person Steve called when he came home from work to an empty house, only to find Eddie's room cleaned out. He slumps down in his chair as the video store fades out of view in the side mirror.

Sensing his change in attitude, Nancy nudges his arm. "You okay?"

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek. No, he thinks, no he is definitely not okay. This whole thing was one huge fucking mistake!

Nancy thinks for a moment, probably deciding what or what not to disclose to Eddie. What is her place to tell and what isn't. "Mike is gonna lose his shit when he sees you," she tries to joke, shaking her head fondly. "God. You know he grew out his hair? It's like, like yours now."

Eddie peaks over at her. "Really?"

She nods. "And Mom keeps calling me to complain about him blasting his 'screaming music' at all hours of the day. Apparently Wayne gave him some of your old tapes you left behind." Her expression softens. "You really made an impact on him."

Something akin to pride swells in Eddie's chest, replacing the feeling of his insides doing backflips. "No, I didn't- I'm not-"

"Don't do that. Don't undermine yourself. Those kids really looked up to you. I remember Mike coming home from school after you offered him to join your stupid club, he was so excited. You like, made him feel less alone. Or something."

And Eddie well, he doesn't know what to say to that.

"So don't worry so much. They'll be thrilled to see you."

"Yeah," Eddie huffs, "at least someone will."

They drive the rest of the way to the Wheeler House in silence. And when the car pulls into the driveway, Nancy doesn't move. Eddie looks over to her, and she seems to be in deep thought, debating whether or not to go in.

That's the thing about Nancy Wheeler, Eddie thinks. Everyone thinks she's so difficult to read, but you just gotta know what to look for; Nance chews on her nails when she's unsure, she gets this glassy look in her eyes and this twitch in her lips. Eddie saw her many times after Vecna. He doesn't think anyone else did.

"I don't have to go in," he supplies, already expecting her to ask him to stay in the car.

She snaps out of whatever haze she trapped herself in. "What?"

"It's not a problem, I get that your folks may not be too happy having a former wanted murder back in the house."

"What?" She repeats. "Oh, Eddie, no. God no. It's not you, it's just." A deep sigh escapes her. "You're not the only one avoiding home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, only a little offended. Because he's not avoiding anything, thank you very much.

Nancy pops open the driver-side door, climbing out into the Hawkins Winter Weather. "It means," she says, "that things between me and my parents aren't great right now."

Vague. Leaving out details on purpose. Eddie doesn't know what to expect anymore, but he guesses she doesn't owe him any explanation. He certainly didn't give her one.

Eddie follows suit, pulling his old leather jacket close in a futile attempt to block out the nipping cold. He exhales deeply, breath turning to mist in front of his eyes in that way that makes him feel like a dragon, before going to help Nancy pull her various suitcases out of the trunk of her car. But he gets about halfway towards her when a small, porcelain figure on the snow covered grass catches his eye.

For a second he thinks it's new, because surely it has to be. But no, it's the exact same colour, there's still that chip on its large round nose, and there's obvious cracks in the structure.

Nancy catches him staring. "Oh yeah," she huffs a laugh, "Mom super glued it back together. You two never did tell me how you broke it."

Eddie looks at her with a smirk. "I have no idea what you mean."

December, 1987

"How are you not cold?"

It's the first time Eddie's ever been invited to the Wheeler's Christmas Party. And he thinks it might be the last if the look Karen Wheeler gave him when he walked in dressed, not in a Christmas jumper like the invite said, but rather his usual attire of a leather jacket. Not that he minds though, there is only so much cheery Christmas music and judgemental stares from Nancy's neighbours he can take before he needs a minute outside.

Eddie watches the smoke from his lips evaporate, mingling with the cool night air. Warm yellow light from the house bleeds out from the open door, and vanishes when it shuts again. It wasn't snowing yet, but he suspected that it would start soon.

"It's like, below freezing out here." Steve appears beside him, shivering despite his many, many layers of clothes he insisted on earing. The top layer is an awfully ugly Christmas sweater that Eddie bought him yesterday for this very occasion. It looks incredibly itchy, but Steve insisted on wearing it.

The other boy leans against the wall and holds his hand out to Eddie, to which Eddie passes him the cigarette with a smug look on his face.

"Thought you were quitting?" Eddie japs a finger at Steve's side. "Thought it was turning your hair grey?"

"Yeah well," Steve holds the cigarette up to his mouth, taking a long drag and Eddie pretend that he's not staring at the way his boyfriends cheeks hollow as he does so. "I'll quit tomorrow. You okay?"

And god Eddie loves that man.

"Honestly?" he sighs, "I kinda hate it here."

He doesn't expect Steve's shoulders to completely drop in relief. "Thank god. Listen, I love Mrs. Wheeler. I do. But this is the most boring party I've ever been to. And I was at Chuck Myers' Spring Brake party. That was boring."

Eddie laughs, shaking his head fondly. "Yeah, I could do without the middle aged women staring at me everytime I walk by them."

Steve frowns. He loops an arm around Eddie's waist and pulls him closer. "They're just old bitches. Don't pay them any mind."

They're so close Eddie can smell the spiked Eggnog on Steve's breath. And he panics when he hears laughter from inside, trys to pull away. "People might see us."

"And?" Steve smiles, the cigarette in his hand long discarded on the ground. He holds onto Eddie's hands, they're calloused yet soft in his. Again, he urges him closer and plants a chaste kiss on Eddie's cheek and that makes Eddie giggle like a school girl, so goes to give Steve a proper kiss but he doesn't get the chance when the song inside changes.

"Ah! I love this song," Steve slurs, and Eddie begins to suspect he's had a bit too much to drink. He can only imagine what Robin's like inside.

The song in question is another generic Christmas tune, one the radio can blast over and over and people keep listening to because it's catchy. Naturally, Eddie detests it, much like most holiday songs. He groans, "Of course you do."

Steve doesn't take the, frankly obvious, bait to rehash the same playful argument they have almost every time they turn on the radio. Instead, he starts to move in some sort of way that Eddie guesses could be considered dancing, and he manoeuvres Eddie's hands so that he's forced to join in.

It's an odd, arrhythmia rocking motion Eddie finds himself locked in. He thinks that Steve might have been going for a slow dance sorta thing, but Lord knows Harrington couldn't dance to save his life so he settles for whatever it is he's doing. And you can't really hear the music, since they're outside it's quiet through the walls, making it a bit awkward but Eddie doesn't care. The way Steve laughs, all carefree and thoughtless, the way he doesn't do very often, is music enough for him.

So Eddie let's himself dance, on the front doorstep of Karen Wheeler's house, and he lets himself forget that there was even a party at all; that he was here for an entirely different reason other than to dance the night away with his boyfriend - his boyfriend, Steve Harrington, that's still so surreal. He even forgets where he is.

Smash!

Momentarily, at least.

Steve and Eddie pull apart at the sound of the noise. They look at the ground, horrified to find the shattered body of a lone garden gnome broken into a dozen pieces. They stand over it, staring. Then Steve looks up at Eddie with a pale face.

"You," he says quietly, "you murdered him."

"Me?! He's closer to your foot! You stepped on him during your awful attempt at dancing!"

Steve's cheeks turn red, Eddie doesn't know if it's from embarrassment or from the cold. "Yeah, well, standing here over a dead body isn't going to magically fix it."

"What do you want to do then?" Eddie huffs.

As if on cue, they hear Mrs. Wheeler's muffled voice through the door, proudly declaring something to her guests. They stare at the door until Steve rattles around in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his car keys.

He stares at Eddie. "Last one to the car has to tell Nancy."

Eddie is bolting before he finishes the sentence. The quiet music from the party is replaced by Steve's laughter. Music to his ears.

December, 1991

There's the smell of cookies wafting through the air when Eddie trudges through the front door after Nancy. She calls out that she's home and instantly there's footsteps rushing towards the hall. Mrs. Wheeler appears in the living room doorway. She's wearing a stained apron and her hair, now back to its natural brown, is pulled back out of her face.

"Nancy," she smiles, and pulls her daughter into a tight embrace. "Welcome home! Though I wish you called ahead, I'm a bit of a mess." She laughs and then turns to the living room, where a young, blonde haired girl sits on the couch. "Holly, come say hi to your sister."

Holly, who has grown significantly since Eddie last saw her at that Christmas party, merely waves. She doesn't even pull her attention from the cartoons she's watching. Nancy gives a curt wave back.

Mrs. Wheeler's eyes land on Eddie, quietly lingering in the doorway, and her expression hardens for a split moment.

Nancy coughs. "Mom, you remember Eddie, right? Eddie Munson."

"Of course!" she exclaims, still smiling but it's tighter, forced. Her movements become wary and Eddie is very quickly reminded why he left in the first place. Eddie feels very pinned down under her state. "It's so good to see you again."

Lies.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Nancy warily looking around. "Is, uhm, is dad here?" she asks, and that's enough to take Karen's mind of off Eddie and onto something more pressing it seems, by the way her happy expression crumbles into one of uncomfortable sorrow.

"He's working til seven." she tells her. Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. "But, maybe you could stay here this year," Mrs. Wheeler tries, "I'm sure if you brought Steve over then maybe-"

"Where's Mike?" Nancy interrupts, just when Eddie perked up at the mention of Steve's name.

"In the basement."

She turns to Eddie, giving him a sort of urgent 'go" look. Though he's reluctant - and curious, knowing she's only telling him to go just so he doesn't hear the rest of the conversation - Eddie makes his way to the basement. He gives a jerky nod to Holly on his way. She doesn't even acknowledge him. With her large, square shaped glasses, she looks a bit like her dad.

The stairs to the basement creaks under his weight. As he descends down further, Eddie can hear quiet laughter underneath the sound of slow music turned down so low, he can't quite make it out. The basement has that same BO stench that Eddie became familiar with during the many, lengthy Hellfire sessions he held down here. In some strange way, its comforting.

When he gets to the bottom of the steps, he starts to think that maybe he should have called out his arrival before hand; surely that would have saved Mike - and himself - the embarrassment of Eddie walking in on Mike and Will - Will Byers, Eddie fucking knew it - making out on the sofa.

He clears his throat, and takes a sick sort of humor in watching the two boys literally jump away from each other in panic because yup, been there kid. "Y'know, if you're going to have a gay make out session, the best place to do it probably isn't your mom's basement."

Mike all but yells in shock and horror. And Will seems to freeze like a deer in headlights, sitting stiffly with a rapidly growing red face. A second passes like this before Mike blinks, once, twice, and shoots up from the couch with furrowed eyebrows.

"Eddie?!"

Nancy wasn't lying. Standing in front of Mike now, all 5'11 of him, it was like looking in a fun house mirror. His face has thinned out, more sharp edges than last Eddie saw him; he's tall, incredibly so, and his hair, full of wild, unruly curls, has fallen down to his shoulders. He's dressed in a, clearly loved, Black Sabbath shirt that Eddie actually thinks is his, and he can't help the wide smile that splits his face in half.

But Mike is not smiling, well he was. His expression starts to cycle through a mix of happy, confused, angry. And then Eddie gets the air knocked out of his lungs when Mike barrels into him. Eddie thinks he's crying a bit.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Eddie tells them. About New York, about writing. He revels in that same old warmth that comes when the two boys laugh at his jokes, or when Will's eyes light up at the description of the New York skyline at night. Eddie and Will spent lots of time together before he left, both of them eager to have another DM to talk to, plan campaigns with. He looks at Will now, and he still sees the face of that kid that used to show up at his trailer with his tattered notebook and a head full of new ideas; it doesn't matter that his face has finally come into its own, or that he finally let his hair grow out past that ridiculous bowl cut, it's still Will Byers. They tell him about their own lives too, briefly, about school and life in general, and seem to have forgotten that Eddie caught them, what he walked in on. And that's fine with Eddie, they'll talk about it when they're ready, who is he to pry?

The three of them sat there for what realistically couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but felt like eons in the best way possible. Until raised voices upstairs cut through their conversation. Eddie recognises Nancy's voice and assumes the other is her mom.

Mike rolls his eyes and deadpans, "Oh great, we're back to this."

Curiosity gets the better of him, and despite knowing he shouldn't pry Eddie asks anyway. "They fight alot?"

"Just like, all the time," Mike groans and Will snickers at his antics. "God it's been like this for two years now, it's a miracle Nance even comes home at this point."

"Of course she'd come home," Will interjects, "Nancy's not like that."

There's something more to that sentence, something both Mike and Will understand. Yet another thing Eddie is being left out on.

"Two years?" he whistles, laughing sarcastically, "What could she have possibly done? Misspelt a word in her college application?"

Mike stares at him with wide eyes. "She hasn't told you yet? Her and Ste-"

"Eddie!"

Nancy's voice cuts through the conversation. Eddie looks to where she's standing at the top of the stairs, cheeks burning red with a fiery gaze in her eye. Beside him, Mike stands immediately, concern painting his face but Nancy just shrugs him off.

"C'mon," she says, "We're leaving."

Before Eddie can blink he's hauling Nance's suitcases back out to the car to the tune of Mrs. Wheeler begging, pleading, with Nancy to stay. Nancy doesn't listen to her, and she manages to keep her composure right until they pull out of the driveway, then tears start forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Nance?" Eddie puts a hand on her shoulder. "Nance, hey, what happened?"

She laughs, wetly. "Nothing. It's fine. My mom just- shit." Her grip on the steering wheel tightens. "I'll Uhm, I'll drop you off at your Uncle's place I just-"

"Hey, hey." Eddie rushes to comfort her. "It's alright, I'm honestly in no rush. Just, go wherever you need to go. Okay?"

Nancy takes a series of deep breaths, and her tight lock on the wheel loosens. "Okay."

The car turns right, and Eddie doesn't even need to ask where they're going; he remembers the road like the back of his hand. Loch Nora. Steve Harrington's house.

And it's different.

Not massively so. In fact, the only difference Eddie can see is the change in colour, from that ugly steel grey to a soft yellow. Had the snow been melted, he would have seen rows of flowerbeds but with the garden frozen over the only thing standing there are a couple of poorly made snowmen, one significantly smaller than the other but both finished off with hats and scarfs and, of course, carrot noses. Eddie spies the sight of that large, perfect Christmas tree he and Steve spent hours decorating so that everything was just right. The house stands out from the others, and whether that's because of the change in colour or the extravagant Christmas lights only it has, Eddie doesn't know.

And there's a moment where Eddie forgets where he is. A moment where he's not in the car with Nancy, but rather in his Van with bags upon bags of groceries beside him, and he's getting ready to navigate - completely destroy - Steve's kitchen in a futile attempt to cook dinner for the two of them. It feels like he's coming home, like he's never been away. Like it hasn't been four years, and things between him and Steve aren't completely ruined, shattered to bits by his own hand.

"I'll only be a minute." Nancy tells him, obviously picking up on something he isn't given the side eyed glare she shoots him. 'It's probably best if you stay here." But hell no, Eddie finally feels whole again and he's going to chase this feeling into tomorrow. He's out of the car before Nancy can even stop him.

Walking up to the door, Eddie's in a hazy trance. Memories upon memories flood the forefront of his mind; Him and Steve playing in the snow; Him and Steve watching horror movies; Him and Steve coming back from one of their summer drives, the sound of ABBA blasting much to Eddie's playful dismay. He gets to the door with Nancy yelling after him.

He lifts his fist to the door, but it swings open before he can knock. And that trance Eddie found himself in quickly fades as the smell of citrus and burning wood hits his face, and there's a child standing at the door.

A little girl, with curly brown hair tied back into pigtails, with a freckled tan face and wide hazel eyes that look into Eddie's soul. She's wearing a pink tutu and some kind of sports jersey, Eddie doesn't know what sport though. She blinks at him in a curious manner, tilting her head to the side, then her gaze stares past him and her face lights up in a face splitting smile.

"Nance! She screams excitedly, and sprints off in a waddle. Eddie watches as Nancy rushes up to meet her with the same smile on her face, and she picks her up in her arms and twirls her about. The little girl laughs ecstatically. Eddie's face pales at the similarities between the two girls.

"Wheeler, thank god you're home," A voice calls from the house. Eddie turns to the source and his heart swells at the sight.

Robin fucking Buckley. Standing in the doorway in all her chaotic glory. Her hair is slightly longer now and just as untamed as it used to be; she too is wearing a tutu and she looks like she's been running if her red cheeks and heavy breaths are anything to say about it.

She rubs her eyes, laughing in a pathetic huff of air. "I swear if I have to watch one more episode of Sesame Street I'm going to kill mys-"

For someone who always seemed so open, Eddie has a hard time figuring out what emotion lies in Robin's eyes when she finally looks at Eddie; is it happiness? Confusion? Sadness? He doesn't know. She stares at him, with wide unblinking eyes, and time seems to slow down for her as she takes the sight of him in. Eddie feels a little exposed watching her look him up and down, and he'd probably shift uncomfortably under her gaze, if he wasn't so fucking happy to see her.

"Hey Rob," he smirks, trying, and definitely failing, to sound sauve. "Miss me."

In response to his question, Robin gives him her fist colliding with his nose.

tag list :)

@thermofisherscientific

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve/eddie #steveddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckly #part 3?? Maybe??#I promise Steve will be in the next one #and he's a single dilf now hehe

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