#you know what last week was? Thursday my mom and I planned to have a girls day and just. everything went wrong and we went home early

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

When Dean said I need a damn win. Emotionally I am there

[1d1195]

My Friend's Toyota III

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~8.9k words

Warnings: Jealous Harry, a little pugnacious today. Nothing crazy, I hope. Mostly silly fluff

This is a bit all over the place. (A filler episode, if you will.) The next (and last part) will be more put together I promise.

-

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

When the seasons change / Can I still hold your hand? / When we get rain / can I teach you how to dance? / It’s not even November, yet she’s worried ‘bout December / If I can have her in my arms / she won’t worry ‘bout the winter

“This feels ridiculous,” she said to Allie’s ear and tugged at the skirt of her dress, so it bunched in her hand, and she could press it to the outside of her thigh. She wanted the fabric to stretch lower. The chill in the air slid up her legs and under her skirt and it was almost icy. “It’s freezing out.”

“This is sweatshirt weather at best. Have another drink and we’ll stand by the fire,” she giggled. But without Harry to steal a drink from the fridge she didn’t have much choice of drinking.

“I know it’s lame, Al, but I want to study,” she practically groaned. “I haven’t a clue what’s going on in class. I was sick all week. I’m super behind.”

Allie snorted and shook her head. “So just take Harry’s notes and ask him.”

“I’m the one that helps him.”

“Sweetie. You’re twenty-one. It’s Halloweekend. We’re drinking and getting candy from cute college guys.”

The only cute college guy she wanted to see was Harry. But Harry was working and wouldn’t be out till much later. He was insistent that she stay out long enough so he could see her costume. “It’s not special...” she told him, her cheeks reddening at his request. “It... it won’t be like other people’s costumes on Halloween. Even Allie said it was cuter than it was sexy,” she admitted thinking of the Risky Business trio Allie was going to be part of for the evening. She scuffed her shoe on the tile floor outside her Sociology class when Harry inquired about the weekend. She had skipped last Thursday and Tuesday to recover from the cold she had. The sniffle punctuated how childish she felt. Harry was able to read between the lines; she wasn’t planning on wearing little to the imagination like many chose to do so. Allie assured her it was still sexy—in it’s own way—but not too sweet; she wouldn’t look out of place.

But she knew the truth. It would look cute and wholesome on her. That was how the guy described her last Halloween while she was working at a bar down south. Down there she could dress with little layering. She didn’t, but she specifically remembered serving a guy that was drunk and flirty. “I could take you home to Mom in that.”

It was her least favorite pickup line, but she knew it was true. It probably didn’t help that it was an angel costume. But it had always been that way. People like Allie dressed adorably and sexily. Allie, and others more confident than she was, were asked to go home for the night with someone they just met. She was asked to babysit or meet a parent. “I bet you’ll look...” he chuckled and pinched his lip between his thumb and finger as he scanned her up and down. He shook his head and smiled at her as her cheeks flamed at his scan. Despite the fact they had kissed and slept in the same bed (and nothing more) for several nights in the last couple weeks, Harry looking at her like she was... beautiful made her feel completely flushed and overwhelmed. It was insane that someone as popular, someone as handsome, someone so nice on top of everything else, liked her. “I can’t wait t’see it,” he promised. “Should I dress t’match you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he smiled. “Want everyone t’know you’re all mine.”

She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling large enough to break her cheeks wide open. “I’ll send you the link,” she offered.

Now she had to wait another two hours before Harry was off work and on his way. Allie was already on drink number three and there were still no s’mores supplies by the fire. Even on Halloweekend. It was a real shame. Next time she was going to bring her own.

“But it’s cold,” she whined to Allie.

“Sweetie, it’s not even November. You’re going to need so many layers by the time we get to December.”

No wonder she was sick all week. The chill in the air was killing her. Harry was so kind and while he wanted to dote on her way more than he got to, she was insistent. The kind of insistent he didn’t want to argue with just yet—maybe down the line when they had dated for longer than two weeks. He brought her soup from work and as much as Allie tried to convince her to let Harry stay and wait on her, she was sure she didn’t need Harry getting sick on her behalf. Allie gave Harry a sad smile and a look in her eye that said I tried. For which he was grateful to have her best friend on his side.

*

Allie was the kind of person to talk to anyone that approached her. Like long lost friends. With her long-tanned legs on display, that meant there were a lot more people to chat with her. The remaining two of her trio came and went to take pictures and make appearances. She was able to chat with most anyone as well, but her introverted self, preferred a one-on-one kind of chat. It also helped when she wasn’t so cold.

The only person she spoke to between those moments of chatting with Allie’s friends, was the freshman pledge standing by the fire, aptly dressed as a firefighter—no shirt of course.

“You come here with her frequently,” he noted when Allie scampered off to dance to the unofficial Risky Business theme song inside with her friends. She enjoyed the warmth because she swore her dress was getting shorter by the second for her southern blood.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend,” she cleared her throat. “Are you stuck on fire duty all year?”

He snorted through his sarcastic little laugh but held a kind smile. He looked so young. She thought being twenty-one was young and somehow this eighteen-year-old guy may as well have been thirteen. “No, just the semester,” he sighed. “Thankfully,” he shook his head. “When you’re not here, you should see some of the things I see.”

She laughed softly. “I can imagine.”

“Do you know anyone besides Allie?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Well, Niall... adjacently,” she amended and shrugged. “He’s friends with my...” she cleared her throat again awkwardly. Harry technically wasn’t her boyfriend. But she didn’t know what to say, suddenly. “With... my friend.”

The guy smiled to himself picking up some empty cups around the fire and tossed them into a nearby bin. She helped as well, bending gracefully so as not to show off her butt. Her knees were stiff with cold, and it felt like her skin was going to break open. “Oh, you mean Harry,” he chuckled. “I was wondering about that status. Everyone is really,” he smirked knowingly. “You’re different than his usual kind of friend,” he didn’t mean anything by it. Just making conversation. But his comment made her heart feel like it weighed about six hundred pounds and sank directly to her feet. She shouldn’t have given it a second thought. Obviously, he wasn’t around long enough to know Harry’s motives or type or anything. Anything he said was basically a rumor. Clearly, her silence was noteworthy. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you,” his voice was remorseful and sweet. Especially for an eighteen-year-old. “You just hear a lot by the fire,” he shrugged. “The guy is crazy about you,” he reminded her. “I know I’m just a freshman pledge, but I see a lot. I hear a lot.”

“What was your name again?” She asked. Simultaneously, she wanted the conversation to stop but also wanted to know who he was later on when she had time to ask Allie and her friends. Or even Niall.

He stuck his hand out. “Kyle,” he offered while she shook his hand firmly.

“Kyle,” she repeated. “Well, thank you for keeping me company. Next time, I think we should have s’mores.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “My pleasure. You’re fun to talk to,” he smiled. “If Harry didn’t look like he was ready to kill me I would continue the conversation, but,” he pointed behind her and he gave her a wave. “I’ll bring s’mores next time. See ya around,” he meandered back to his station but shifted to the other side of the fire, avoiding Harry’s vision.

She turned to see Harry, pants with the 1960’s themed flower-pants decorating his legs, a brown suede tasseled vest—no shirt, circle glasses with colored lenses, and a chunky peace necklace hung around his neck. The pendant touched just above his navel. How he wasn’t freezing was beyond her. Even in her own dress, long sleeves, with the matching pattern of Harry’s pants, she was nearly shivering because of her bare legs. All those years her mom forced her to wear a jacket while trick or treating—when it was downright warm—were wasted. She wished for a jacket now.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey, kitten,” he cooed, the irritation in his eyes still just behind the surface. “Y’look beautiful. Y’should wear a flower crown all the time,” he put a hand on her side and kissed her forehead in greeting. Immediately the stares ensued.

“How was work?” She asked.

“Fine, long. Lots of tips tonight,” he grinned, a spark of excitement replacing the irritation immediately. “Can take y’to the fancy restaurant now.”

His hand didn’t move from her side. It warmed her freezing cold body more than the fire did. “We don’t have to do that, Harry. You can save your money. But it does sound nice,” she smiled sweetly.

Harry stepped closer to her. Somehow. She was a good half a foot shorter, even with the chunky heels on that came with the costume. But he still had to bend his neck forward a bit to reach her ear. His hands were on her waist, cupping her hips and she wanted nothing more than to leave this place and snuggle up to him in bed. “I think y’look so sexy,” he whispered.

She blushed, giggled, and shook her head. “I look like I’m about to take the kids I’m babysitting out trick or treating.”

His nose bumped her temple. “No way, kitten. Too sexy t’have a gaggle of kids t’watch on Halloween,” he kissed her head again.

She rested her hands on his bare chest. He was warm. Not cold at all. “Aren’t you cold?” She asked. He chuckled, pulling from her and then wrapping an arm snuggly around her waist. Honestly, pressed to his unclothed skin was the first time in hours she hadn’t felt so cold.

“No, love,” he shook his head. “Have you been freezing?”

“Yes, extremely,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s parka weather.”

He laughed heading toward the house. “It’s barely sweatshirt weather.”

“That’s what Allie said.”

“Where is Miss Allie?”

“Umm...dancing I think,” she sighed. “I envy her confidence.”

Harry pressed his lips to the top of her head, kissed her temple, and smiled against her hair. “Think you’re perfect,” he murmured. No “just as you are” or “like this” was uttered afterwards. It seemed he really meant it.

*

“Hey!” She naturally perked up. It was between classes—her class at noon was cancelled and she didn’t need to be across campus for another hour. Normally, she scarfed down a protein bar and swung into the coffee shop within one of the dining halls to get another caffeinated beverage to hold her over in the afternoon. It was nice to sit and work on her assignments for a bit. She was lucky to get notes from all her classes—one of her peers in each of them was willing to help her out. She emailed her professors as well explaining how she felt like lukewarm death, and she would stay on top of things and be back on track before they knew it. So really, it was nice to have an extra break between her classes to help her get caught up a little more.

But the voice cut through the din of the dining hall and she looked up to see Kyle.

“Oh, hey, Kyle,” she smiled. She cleared a space at the table and gestured for him to sit.

“I never see you at this time,” he noted. She nodded, explained how her class was cancelled and she was getting caught up since she was sick last week. “How was the rest of your Halloweekend?”

It was lovely. Harry bought her a boatload of candy—so many mini bags of Twix bars and they watched three scary movies that had her snuggled close to him for most of the weekend. Harry made special drinks that looked like green, orange, and purple potions. It was adorable, festive, and just really enjoyable. “It was good,” she grinned, thinking about it fondly. “How was yours? Stuck by the fire?”

He laughed dropping his bag beside the table. “Yeah, basically.”

“Do you want to go get food or something? I’ll be here for a while,” she offered.

“Yeah, thanks, that would be great actually. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, she checked her phone to see how Harry was doing in class. This class he usually had to pay the most focused attention to, or he would miss something. My class got out early. I’m in the dining hall if you want to swing by when you’re done. If you can’t it’s okay.

I’d leave right now if I could, kitten 😘

Pay attention 😘

Kyle reappeared with a burger and fries. He also had a bag of carrot sticks which she thought was pretty adorable. He pulled his water bottle from his bag and set it out as well. “Whoa, is that a real class?” He asked.

She laughed. “It’s for one of my math classes.”

“That’s hieroglyphics, actually.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Not a math fan?”

“I’m in pre-calculus and only because I took the placement test online and had someone help me get to it. I didn’t want to take the lower-level class for no credit and still have to pay for it,” he explained. She nodded understandingly.

“Well, I kind of like math, so if you need help, we could find a time to meet.”

His jaw dropped. “Shut up,” he practically gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“Of course,” she was too sweet. Allie said it was going to kill her one day. But Kyle was nice. “The hard part will be making our schedules match up.”

He sighed with relief stuffing three French fries in his mouth. “Wow, thanks, that’s so nice of you,” he murmured around the bite of his burger next. “I’m glad I sat with you instead of my friends today.”

“Oh?” She smirked.

“Yeah,” he glanced across the room to a booth filled with four boys who were all ogling the pair of them. “They all think I’m crazy for talking to a pretty upperclassman,” he admitted. “I told them I knew you from fire duty, but they didn’t believe me.” Her cheeks definitely warmed at the compliment, and she felt herself under the scrutiny of the whole group. “M’sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Kyle was unlike any eighteen-year-old guy she had ever met in her whole life. The guys in her high school wouldn’t have been able to compete. “Do you have a sister?” She asked.

He nodded. “She goes to a different school, but she’s a senior,” that seemed to explain it. His sister was a year older than her.  “Why?”

“Your compliments are very kind, and I was just thinking that most guys your age—”

He smiled. “Oh... yeah. The guys all think I’m a huge ladies’ man or something,” he told her with an eye roll. He was brushing it off. But she could see it. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Harry. “My sister just taught me really well how to talk and treat women.”

“That’s really nice,” she smiled. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No, my older brother is a legacy in this frat, so it’s taken up most of my semester—and before, honestly. I used to come to parties with him when I was still in high school because he wanted to show me the ropes. That’s how I know Harry... kind of, just from observing him and being around the frat life. Where is he, by the way?”

“Class, he should be getting out soon.”

He blanched almost immediately. “Oh, I better go then, I don’t want him—”

“What?” She interrupted with a scoff of laughter in her voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re friends,” she rolled her eyes.

“Um... I think Harry is a bit of the jealous type when it comes to you,” he explained. “I heard he punched someone at one of the parties you didn’t go to because they were talking about you. Plus, the guy in your sociology class wouldn’t keep his mouth shut and Niall had to tell him to shut it, or Harry would shut it for him.”

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe—or exist. She blinked; her eyes closed for a long moment before she looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, what?” She tilted her head. She had heard rumors of course. The ones of inadequacy, difference of his previous relationships, just complete surprise in Harry being with her in general.

To hear that Harry was jealous—to the point of violence? How did she miss that? “He punched someone?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t in the room. But I know he definitely yelled,” Kyle shrugged taking another bite of his burger. Her jaw dropped.

The rumors didn’t bother her—not for why they should have bothered her. The feeling of inadequacy definitely hurt, but that was something she kind of worked out with Harry on her own. Violent outbursts were too much for her. Hopefully that was nothing more than a rumor. “Hey kitten,” she was lost in thought, didn’t even notice Harry approached. Looking up, she saw him staring at Kyle, seated across from her.

She shook her head to get her brain functioning again. “Oh,” she smiled. “Hi, you’re out early,” she stood up and pecked his cheek. He seemed stiff. Kyle paled while Harry continued staring and she felt so uneasy about seeing jealous Harry firsthand. Poor Kyle began cleaning up his stuff as quickly as he could. She put a hand on his arm to still him and he nearly ripped his arm away from her. Poor thing. “Do you know Kyle?” She asked as if he hadn’t almost taken his whole arm off at her touch. But she noted the way Harry shifted. “He’s usually on fire duty,” she explained sitting back in her seat. “I chatted with him on Halloweekend.”

Harry’s gaze was stiff, cold, and nothing like how he looked at her at all. “Kyle,” he repeated.

“Kyle was telling me he’s struggling with math,” she looked at Harry curiously, almost suspiciously. “You can vouch for me, right? I’m a pretty good tutor,” she giggled, and Harry loosened ever so slightly.

“Yeah, she’s a genius, I think,” Harry slid into the booth seat beside her. He kissed her forehead. “M’jus’ gonna grab a quick snack,” he explained and left his bag beside her.

“What are you doing?” She asked as Kyle continued to clean up his stuff.

The color in Kyle’s face returned to normal and he sighed with relief when Harry left. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Kyle,” she snorted. “We’re friends. He’ll get over it.”

“My friends are tweaking out over there.”

She glanced at them briefly to see them all snickering and smacking each other at their friend’s discomfort. “I see that,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little protective,” she offered.

“I don’t blame him; you’re very pretty and nice,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been at a lot of these parties and no one ever gives me the time of day," he murmured right before Harry reappeared.

“Kyle, y’brother was in Niall’s frat,” Harry said placing his food in front of him—a pre-made sandwich and a bottle of apple juice—which she thought was the cutest thing in the world to see a twenty-one-year-old guy who was hotter than the sun drinking a bottle of apple juice with his sandwich. “What was his name?”

Kyle gulped almost audibly; he was so uncomfortable it was palpable in the air. “Uh... Jesse,” he answered eventually. “He graduated last year. But I went to parties a lot. Showed the ropes kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping m’girlfriend company. Don’t know if she told you, she’s from the south. So s’pretty cold without the fire,” he placed a hand beneath the table on her thigh. It made her swoon internally.

Girlfriend.

She could feel her whole face soften and the word. Her heart rate began to fly. She glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye to see if he was having a meltdown internally like she was. He wasn’t. It was as if this was just another ordinary moment of her life, and her heart wasn’t screaming.

Kyle must have heard the designation as well because his smile brightened, and she swore his eye twinkled in acknowledgment. “I didn’t know that. Makes a lot of sense,” he seemed a little more at ease now that Harry had turned off the protective tone. But worry was still just below the surface of his eyes. “Uh... would it be cool to get your number to help with the whole tutoring stuff?” He asked looking at his own phone. She wished she could look at Harry’s face when the poor thing asked. Kyle may as well have been asking Harry for it like some kind of dowry.

“Of course,” she said quickly and pulled her phone up to a new contact and handed it to him. She put her hand on Harry’s, still on her leg. She squeezed it while Kyle cleared his throat and passed it back to her.

“Thank you, my... my mom will appreciate the help,” he admitted, shyly.

“Happy to help,” she promised with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company again.”

His face paled again, Harry’s grip on her thigh tightened at the same time. “I gotta go,” he gestured to his friends still staring at the three of them. “Thanks for the help, see you around.”

As soon as he was gone, she turned more directly to Harry, getting a good view of his profile. He sipped his apple juice. “Did you punch a guy?” She asked. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Of course not.”

“Well, I thought that too, but you almost melted poor Kyle with your laser vision there,” she pressed a hand to the side of his face. Harry smirked under her touch. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

“M’jus...” he sighed. “Y’have t’understand, kitten. I’ve never felt this way ‘bout someone before. M’not usually the jealous type. Y’can ask Mitch and Sarah. M’not one t’play dick goalie; if someone wanted t’be in a relationship with someone else, m’not gonna make myself sick with worry,” he shrugged. “But you?” He shook his head. “S’like there’s this bug in m’head. The whole picnic was nice, but y’deserve more. M’ready t’do anything t’keep you to myself. T’give you all y’want and more.”

“And you think poor, baby freshman Kyle is going to give me more?” She asked sarcasm dripping in her voice. But it was still kind how she said it. She could hear the worry in Harry’s voice. It was unnecessary, but nonetheless sweet. She couldn’t believe he liked her so much.

“He already has a crush on you,” he grumbled and bit into his sandwich.

“He does not,” but the heat rising to her cheeks didn’t help her case.

“Of course, he does, love,” Harry rolled his eyes. “A hot, upperclassman talking t’a freshman? I’d’ve written our names in a notebook.”

“He’s harmless,” she promised.

“He is, but s’jus’ furthering m’point,” he smiled. “M’literally dating you and ‘ve got a huge crush on you. You’re nice, funny, and beautiful. S’like y’were made in a lab.”

“You forgot I’m good at math,” she teased.

“Don’t remind me. Don’t know why you’re slumming it with me.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know we were boyfriend and girlfriend,” it sounded so cheesy saying it out loud. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was ridiculous but it really ached in her chest.

“Kitten, we have been since y’agreed t’sit with me in class,” he smirked. “Y’should’ve asked,” he kissed the top of her head.

She laughed. “That long?”

“Mhmm...” he hummed and draped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Did y’think this was just a little fling or something?”

“No,” she cleared her throat. “Or, I hoped not. But...” she shrugged. “I know I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated. And I know I’m kind of lame—”

“Please don’t talk about my lovely girlfriend like that,” he winked cutely. She rolled her eyes.

“I would be extremely jealous if I saw a girl flirting with you,” she told him.

His flirty smile disappeared, a frown replacing his entire face. “I would never make y’jealous intentionally. I haven’t noticed anyone since I met you, kitten,” he promised. “I really don’t want y’to worry ‘bout me. I know y’hear rumors and I can imagine they bug you, but s’all they are. If there’s ever something y’want t’know, y’can ask. I won’t... blame y’for asking.”

“I trust you,” her voice was so firm, she hoped he knew that. This conversation was almost too serious for a dining hall, but she was kind of glad to be talking about all of it. “Really, truly. Allie is gonna take a little longer to believe you, but even she said you act differently around me.”

“S’good to know,” he smirked. “I’ll work on it. M’glad y’trust me.”

She smiled. “You trust me, right?”

“I do, I really do, kitten. Believe me, s’all the guys that are right to flirt with you that make me crazy. They see someone so beautiful and kind,” he shook his head. “M’no better than them, honestly.”

For a moment, she just looked at him. It was hard to believe he was so crazy about her. After all he had told her, and all the issues she had within her mind, making her feel a little insane at times, Harry didn’t care. He assuaged every worry. Every minor little problem or fear she had, he plucked it right out and assured her that everything was lovely.

She leaned upward and pecked his cheek again. “No punching someone,” she said simply. “I have to get to class, are you going to stay here?” She asked.

“Leave you t’walk with the wolves?” He asked, packaging his sandwich up and putting his juice in his bag. “Absolutely, not,” he rolled his eyes. She giggled and she couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s smile brightened as she did.

*

Prior to university, Harry’s teachers told him and his classmates how they would have so much free time in college. Which was true in a way; Harry had a lot of time to join a club sport, hold down a job, go to the gym, enjoy himself as much as he wanted. However, all those extra curriculars and obligations he gave himself created a packed schedule. The fear of insurmountable debt made him pick up shifts even when he didn’t want to.

It was a miracle he found a girlfriend as busy as he was. If she had more free time, Harry worried she would find someone who had more time for him. But between working, classes, studying, and going for runs with Allie (although she assured Harry that it was mostly walking for the better part of ninety minutes and followed by a half hour of stretching), they mainly saw each other at bedtime.

“I think we’re an old married couple,” Harry murmured into her hair. He loved the feel of her body close to his. Having her in his arms was where he wanted her most.

“We haven’t fought about hair in the shower drain yet,” she reminded him.

“S’because all of it’s in m’mouth right now,” he spluttered, pretending to spit her hair out of his mouth. She twisted around, facing him, he smiled at her. “M’jus’ kidding. I would eat your hair,” he joked.

“You’re insane.”

“’Bout you.”

“Somewhere in the future is a true crime podcast about you murdering me,” she had this habit of placing her hand on his face and skimming her thumb across his cheek. It was soothing, if he wasn’t careful, he would fall asleep before finishing their chat. She threw her voice to do a monologued intro. “He was so handsome. No one suspected that he had a hair fetish that would devolve into full-blown cannibalism.”

He laughed and brought his mouth close to hers. “I wouldn’t eat you, kitten. M’not a psychopath,” he rolled his eyes. “I would probably just keep your body preserved and play house with it.”

She nodded. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes again. “Go to sleep.”

“M’worried you’ll kill me when I’ve let my guard down,” she yawned. “S’always the husband. After twenty-five years of marriage,” she reminded him.

“S’a risk we all take, I think.”

“Can you at least text Allie that she can have my clothes?”

“First on m’to do list after I clean up the blood.”

“I don’t think we should watch scary movies before bed anymore.”

“Yes, dear.”

She giggled. For a few moments they just gazed at one another. Her eyes got droopier, her breath slower. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered.

“Good night, kitten,” he answered just as softly. His tongue was twitching to say three more words. Words that, realistically, he wanted to say the moment he met her. His heart ached to say them as much as his tongue. Part of him wondered if she would say it back. Was it too early? She hadn’t been in love before. He needed it to be special when he said it. Was he prepared if she didn’t say it back?

Her face nuzzled into his collarbone; a sigh escaped her, completely content. He wondered if she was already asleep. Maybe he would just whisper it to her sleeping form for practice. Was he being ridiculous? Was it too soon? No, he never felt like this when he dated before her. “Thanks for being my boyfriend,” her voice was so gentle, so sweet. “I like it a lot.”

He kissed her forehead, his heart cracking under the pressure of how adorable she was. “Pleasure’s all mine, love,” despite how badly he wanted to say it, he wanted it to be more special for her. She deserved that.

*

Harry called his mum as often as he could to check in. It was usually twice a week and texts every day. He was sitting outside the restaurant in the cold, trying to ease his mind off the packed schedule he had for the next couple weeks. It was hard to believe it was mid-November. Finals and their holiday break would be right around the corner. “Hi honey-bunny,” his mum said into the phone. “You on break?” She asked.

“Yeah, hi Mum; how are you?”

“Missing my baby,” she cooed.

He chuckled. “M’jus’ calling ’cause I have a free minute.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “How’s our leading lady?” She asked.

Harry smiled to himself, despite being alone, his cheeks surely turned pink. Shortly after his breakfast with Mitch, he called his mum to tell her that he met her; the girl he was certain he was going to marry her. “She’s good,” he nearly sighed dreamily. “Do y’want to meet her?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” She nearly cheered. “M’sure she’s lovely.”

“Y’know, her family’s down south. M’not sure what her plans are for the holiday break,” he shrugged. “If she’s stuck here because of flights, could I invite her home?”

“Oh of course! I’ll have to get her a stocking.”

“Er...don’t scare her Mum,” he laughed lightly. “I don’t know if she can yet.”

“Well, you’re certain you’re going to marry her, I better get one anyway.”

His mum was all on board for having a daughter-in-law. One that was sweet and perfect for her little baby boy. Gemma was excited to have someone to poke fun with and truly, she’d always wanted a sister as well. Harry felt his stomach flip at the thought. While his mum was a strong supporter and kind about who Harry fell in love with, Gemma was the slightest bit more skeptical. When he called her earlier in the semester about the pretty girl, Gemma was happy for him. “Harry, you’re very young still. I’m young. Are you sure you want to settle for the first girl you think is the one?”

“S’not settling, Gem. You haven’t met her,” he assured her. “S’not even close to settling,” he promised. “I know m’young...but...’ve wanted t’meet her for a really long time,” he told her. Gemma knew that. Her younger brother, the sweet six-foot giant, had been graced with a heart bigger than anyone she knew. He was empathetic, adoring, and always kind. As much as he hated bugs and spiders, he always wanted them to be saved when they were younger and placed neatly outside so as not to upset their little insect families. Harry dreamed about getting married the first time he had a crush on a pretty girl in his grade school classes. His heart was broken on Valentine’s Day when she didn’t send him a Valentine, but he had pored over his glittery heart craft that he had slipped into her school mailbox. The heartache only lasted a little while—he was only seven at the time—but he wanted love. It was obvious. Gemma and her Mum had cultivated his love of Rom-Coms and they were his first line of advice when he needed help with gifts for the girl he was seeing.

Gemma knew that Harry dated a bit, desperately searching for the lady that he thought would appear long before he went to university. So as much as Gemma tried to quell his excitement over the object of all his affections and remind him how young he was to find the love of his life, Gemma knew that she was different. The way she had captured her brother’s heart so entirely was a beautiful sign.

“Gemma will want to meet her too,” Mum brought him back to the present. His break was waning, and he would need to get back inside momentarily. “I’m really happy you’re happy, Harry.”

His heart felt so whole, it nearly hurt. “Me too, Mum.”

“Have a good rest of your day, honey bunny. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mum, talk to you soon.”

*

When they walked to class, it was freezing. Even for Harry. Which meant it was probably insufferable for her. Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, Harry desperately wanted to hold her hand but couldn’t bring himself to steal it from the warmth inside her jacket. “Y’really wanted t’come up here away from the warmth?” he murmured his question.

The leaves were no longer the warm hues of a sunset colors. They wilted into chestnut, sepia colors and piled along fences outlining the campus. The ground was hard beneath her feet, and she wondered if her coat was going to be thick enough to make it through the winter. She smiled. Her cheeks were wind-blown pink, and her nose was a little runny, but Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. “Yes, wouldn’t have met you otherwise,” she said immediately. He chuckled, his cheeks turning their own shade of pink.

“Wait till y’see the snow,” he reminded her.

“I’m so excited for snow,” she sounded excited. God, he wanted to hold her hand so badly. She pulled a gloved hand out of her pocket at the very moment and pulled a strand of hair away from her lips. “I need hot chocolate,” she grabbed Harry’s hand between them and squeezed it, making him ache with more adoration for her. “Do you work today?”

He did, but it was a short shift. “Jus’ till nine.”

“So hot chocolate at your place?”

He wondered if she could see the somersaults his heart was doing in his eyes. “Please,” he squeezed her hand back. “I’d love that, kitten.”

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

*

Fortunately, Saturday was much warmer than their hot chocolate date. It was still cool, but around the fire, it wasn’t nearly as frigid or achy. Harry once more showed up after his shift. Glancing through the gossip column that was his text messages.

Your girlfriend is awfully cozy with the Fire Marshall.

He knew that it was just to get a rise out of him. He didn’t even have the number saved. But it didn’t mean it didn’t work. After nearly sprinting most of the way from his parking spot to Niall’s house, he had to slow to a walk and take a few laps around the block to ease the anxiety in his mind. Kyle was just her friend. She was kind. She was lovely. Harry knew there was nothing he needed to worry about with her. It wasn’t her.

It was just that she was drop dead gorgeous and Kyle had a massive crush on her. His eye twitched and he rubbed at it as he meandered into the yard. The thought of them having a study session also didn’t help his anxious mind. This was a horrible feeling. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Fortunately, he saw Allie chatting with a group of her friends in the front yard. Some drinking game was definitely happening—it involved cornhole, which he felt of all the games they could have played, it was probably the least dangerous. He gave her a wave. “Hi Harry! She’s out back by the fire!” She shouted. That seemed like Five-Drink-Allie if he had to bet. Poor thing was going to have a killer headache in the morning.

He chuckled, saluted her, and headed around the side of the house. He saw the bonfire and the pair standing by it. They were close together and his heart skipped a beat feeling anxious and hot as he watched while approaching. “S’mores?” He asked.

“Hi, Harry,” she cooed sweetly standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. Almost immediately, the fiery envy in his heart disappeared and was replaced with adoration once more.

“Hi, kitten,” he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Kyle provided s’mores,” she said knowingly. “Now it’s a real party,” she explained holding the s’mores stick out toward the flame. “Do you like good marshmallows or bad marshmallows?” She asked.

Harry chuckled. “Sounds a bit loaded...What’s a good marshmallow?”

“Not charred on the outside,” Kyle rolled his eyes. A pang of frustration went through Harry over the idea that they had an inside joke he was not privy to. “She’s very serious about this.”

“Golden brown is best,” she explained.

“Sorry kitten, m’a charred s’more kinda guy,” Harry smiled.

She scoffed. “Horrible. Both of you. Wasting marshmallows,” she grumbled.

“M’gonna grab a drink. You’ll be here?” He asked.

“Yeah of course, I think Niall was looking for you,” she added reaching for the chocolate and graham crackers they had placed on a jacket on the ground. It must have been Kyle’s because there was no way she would part with a jacket if she were wearing it, no matter how warm it was by the fire; he was sure her icicle self couldn’t do it. “I’ll make you a gross s’more for when you come back; take your time,” she smiled. Harry winked at her, nodded to Kyle, and headed inside.

He found Niall hovering near the makeshift bar. Grateful he could just ask his friend to sneak him a can directly from the fridge without having to distract the freshman bartender for the tenth time in the semester. “Harry!” He cheered. Niall wasn’t drunk; it took a lot for someone so Irish to get drunk at all. But he was friendly. Harry was certain he would greet him the same way, first thing in the morning. “Mitch and Sarah are here,” he pointed toward a group of people over by the pong table. It looked like a game of quarters this week, but he couldn’t be certain. Niall got closer to him and murmured in his ear while he asked the freshman bartender for something to drink as well. “Is Kyle bugging your lady?” He asked. Niall looked at him knowingly, reading between the lines, Harry knew it wasn’t about her, it was entirely about himself.

“No,” he shook his head. “They’re friends.”

“I can tell him to cool it,” he offered.

Harry nodded. “S’fine,” he promised coolly grateful it was dark, so Niall probably missed the way his eye twitched. Part of him wanted to go steal her away and just take her home. Niall nodded.

“Alright, just checking. He’s a good kid,” he promised.

“Seems it,” Harry agreed. “Game tomorrow?” He asked. Niall nodded, excitedly.

“Yessir,” he saluted and slugged back more of his drink. Harry chuckled circling over to Mitch and Sarah. Sarah was clinging to Mitch. A good sign that she had more than her standard two drinks and was getting a little tipsier than normal.

“I got a great grade on my exam,” she giggled.

Mitch smirked and rolled his eyes. “I see,” Harry laughed. “Celebrating, are we?”

She nodded and held her cup out for Harry to clink with his own plasticky sound. “Is my new best friend coming over tonight for a sleepover? I want those scones she made last week!” Sarah nearly had hearts in her eyes at the thought. Mitch chuckled, kissed the side of her head, while wrapping an arm around her tightly.

“M’sure she can,” Harry chuckled. Allie happened into the room at that point and Harry waved her over.

“Hi!” She chirped and gave Sarah a hug.

“Do you two have plans tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Sarah wants scones.”

“Oh, so do I,” Allie bounced on her toes excitedly.

“You should sleepover too!” Sarah cheered excitedly. “We can put the boys in one room,” she suggested. Mitch snorted and rolled his eyes. He sipped his drink and looked Harry knowingly.

It sounded adorable, honestly. Bringing two facets of his life so close together. But part of him dreaded not spending the night snuggled up to the pretty girl.

“But no, we don’t have plans—I’m not sure if she’s working though...where is—? Oh no,” Allie seemed to sober immediately dropping her cup, spilling it on Mitch and Sarah’s feet before she ran out the back door. Without looking, Harry dropped his cup and the seltzer he had for her and followed suit. He sensed Mitch and Sarah on his heels.

About a foot from the fire, she was standing between Kyle and another guy. Harry didn’t know his name. The s’mores were abandoned, and Kyle had a murderous look in his eye. “Kyle, it’s fine,” she promised as he approached.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “Get out of the way,” he ground out to her but she was pressed up against him, her entire back protectively pressed in front of him.

“What are you going to do Freshmeat? Big brother’s not here to get you out of this one,” the other guy taunted shoving Kyle despite the fact she was between them. She smacked his hand.

“Stop it,” she scowled at him. Honestly, Harry thought it would have been cute had he not been so furious.

“Hey!” Allie shouted at the same time Harry shoved the other guy away almost immediately.

“Harry!” She shouted pushing Kyle back another step.

“Back off,” Harry snarled.

“Oh, so you’re okay sharing her with a freshman, but not—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Sarah warned.

She was holding Kyle’s arm trying to keep him calm. “Harry, let’s just go,” she whispered nervously. “Please,” she added, her voice catching.

“What did you say to her?” Harry growled, eyeing him. It was obvious he had too much to drink.

“Harry,” Allie warned coming to her side. “It’s okay, let’s just go.”

“You better take care of your girl, Styles. Or someone will do it for you,” he warned. Harry felt so hot with rage it was hotter than the fire.

“Harry,” Mitch said lowly. “Let’s just go,” he repeated.

“I’m getting Niall,” Allie sped back for the house.

Harry set his jaw, glaring at him, and turned his attention briefly to her and Kyle. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice tight.

She nodded. “Very okay. I just want to go,” she whispered.

Harry backed up toward Kyle and her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him as quickly as he could. “Teasing slut,” he muttered lowly.

But not low enough.

Harry smiled, shook his head, and reeled around. “Wanna repeat that?” He asked.

“Harry,” her voice was close to tears, begging. “Harry, please.”

“Hey!” Niall shouted hurrying out the house in front of Allie.

“I said, she’s a ‘teasing slut.’ You’re just lucky you got to her first—”

“HEY!” Niall repeated but Kyle was the one that lunged at the same time.

“Kyle!” She shouted.

Harry yanked the poor kid away and shoved him back toward Mitch and Sarah. “Harry!” She begged again, apparently unafraid to get close to the action. Niall yanked her back just as fast as Harry pulled Kyle away and Harry started to lunge. With Allie and Sarah holding Kyle back, Mitch grabbed Harry before he could throw a single punch. The drunk idiot cackled at the drama and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” Mitch ordered fiercely. She sighed with relief grabbing his arm and pulling him close to her. Niall shoved the other guy back toward the house.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He almost felt as angry as he was moments ago. “S’not your fault, love,” Niall assured her with a smile. “Harry, y’good?” He asked. Harry nodded stiffly looking at the ground. “Kyle,” Niall looked at the younger one trapped between Sarah and Allie. “You good?”

He nodded once. “M’fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry. He was so pushy. I just thought he was trying to drug her or something,” he promised.

Harry tensed up so hard he thought he would tear a muscle just standing there. She shivered. “Thank you, Kyle. But you didn’t need to do all that,” her voice was soft but almost warning—like a mum to her child. “I wasn’t going to drink anything he offered me,” she promised. “You could have gotten really hurt,” she reminded him.

Harry envied her coolness right now. He was fuming and while she was speaking as gently as she could to Kyle, her hand was roaming his arm just as gently. “Worth it,” he promised. They needed to leave quickly, or Harry was going to let all his jealous emotions surge through him.

“I’m ordering an Uber back,” Sarah said. “S’too cold and you’re too hotheaded to walk—you’ll end up sprinting,” she said to Harry. “How many?” She asked. It was determined all five of them would be leaving.

“You’ll watch him?” She asked Niall quietly and gestured toward Kyle who was picking up the trash around the fire.

“Always,” he winked. “Sorry ‘bout the drama, love.”

“Comes with the territory, I think,” she squeezed Harry’s hand.

“You’ll watch him?” Niall asked.

She smiled. “Always.”

*

Allie did a really good job realizing she was going to throw up the moment she got into Casa Mitch and Harry. “Sarah, can you get some meds and a soda?” She asked.

“You’re the bestest friend there ever was,” Allie moaned laying on the floor beside the toilet. Sarah smirked and handed over the supplies and doubled back for a pillow and a blanket.

“Scones in the morning?” Sarah asked.

“Sounds great,” she smiled sweetly. It was obvious Harry was still on edge. He headed into his bedroom and paced while she finished up with Sarah and Allie.

“You good there, Al?” She asked.

She held up a thumb that sort of leaned a little more than halfway down than it did up. Smirking, she waved to Mitch and Sarah gave her arm a squeeze. “Good night, Harry,” Sarah called gently.

“Shout if you need something, Allie,” she pushed her friend’s hair back and left her to sleep on the cold tile. She quietly closed Harry’s bedroom door and waited while Harry continued pacing.

“What did he say?” He snapped.

“Harry, it’s not—”

“Kitten, m’begging,” he looked at her so hurt, so terribly sad, she nearly caved.

“It was nothing, Harry. It’ll do no good to talk it out. You’ll just get mad—”

“M’jus’ gonna ask Kyle,” Harry was still fuming as he paced.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Please. I’m telling you; it was nothing. Please believe me.”

Harry pressed his head against the window. The lights illuminating the paths to the different buildings were soft and the room was otherwise dark. “M’sorry, kitten,” he mumbled. “M’jus’ mad.”

“I know.”

Harry turned and looked at her. He hardly got a sedcond to look at how pretty she was. “You look beautiful, my love,” he murmured. “S’no wonder y’got him all flustered,” he smirked.

She sighed; the relief palpable in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y’did nothing,” he shook his head. “M’jus...crazy ‘bout you, kitten. I’m sorry,” he grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. Her fingers were still cold, and he frowned. “M’sorry,” he repeated and blew his breath across her hands to warm them.

She looked utterly distraught. “He’s going to lie,” she croaked suddenly. Her throat closing around the emotion. “He’s going to say I was making out with Kyle or something. It’s not true Harry, you have to know that. Any rumor you hear tomorrow, it’s unequivocally false,” she had tears in her eyes.

“Baby,” Harry whispered. “I would never believe someone over you.”

“No?” She hiccupped softly.

He cupped her face. “Course not, love,” he kissed her forehead, and it melted her icy body so immensely. The first time in an hour that she felt calm. “M’sorry he said something to you, or about you.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” she promised. “I know you’re probably still... jealous of him, or whatever, but I was really glad Kyle was there,” she told him. “I wished you were, but it was good.”

“Don’t ever stand between me and someone that wants t’hurt you,” he warned. The one thing he would probably blame Kyle for from then on.

“Kyle’s just a baby,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’talk ‘bout Kyle anymore.”

She giggled. “Okay.”

Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Let’s go to bed. We have scones t’bake in the morning.”

*

Harry woke to about thirty messages from a variety of people all claiming to know bits and pieces of everything about last night. Other than Niall’s, he deleted every single message without so much as a glance at the details. Instead, he looked at the sleepy girl, tucked near his chest. He brushed her hair behind her ear.

There was a knock. “Are you naked?” Allie asked. He snorted.

“No,” he murmured quietly.

Despite the fact she had thrown up, she looked pretty good. “I used your toothbrush,” she said climbing into the bed beside her best friend. Harry shook his head.

“Hi Allie,” she murmured.

“Hi sweetie,” she yawned. “You going to make Sarah and I some scones?”

She nodded, tucking her face into Harry’s chest. “In a minute.”

The twin bed was not made for three people and Harry thought it was quite hilarious. “Should I get out t’let y’snuggle?”

“Please,” Allie yawned and threw an arm over her eyes. He chuckled and kissed the sweet girl’s forehead before climbing out of bed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure we have everything,” he suggested. “Need a new toothbrush,” he rolled his eyes.

“I like Harry,” Allie whispered.

“I do too.”

*

While cleaning their little kitchen, Harry couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he loved her. It was becoming impossible to not say it every chance he got. But he wanted it to be special. More special than he could ever describe. He was sure she wouldn’t care, but it meant more to him that it be special. Especially after he flubbed their first real date.

“What?” She smiled as she looked up from the dishes in the sink.

“Do y’want t’go away next weekend?” He asked. “Before finals get too crazy?”

He was envisioning a romantic weekend away at Mitch’s family’s cabin up the mountain. Quiet, cold, for sure, but warm in the cabin. Just the two of them. He could tell her he loved her. No distractions. Shopping in the little town, cooking together in a full kitchen, sleeping by the fireplace, and just sweetness and a special weekend for the pair of them.

“Do I need to bring anything special?” She asked.

“Another coat, probably," he chuckled.

Her smiled was a mixture of relief and happiness. “I would love that.”

--

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[greensagephase]

Thanksgiving (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; currently in the friendship era, so no romance.) Summary: Thanksgiving at Miguel's. Word Count: 7,094  Warnings: None! Just a cozy Thanksgiving dinner with Miguel and the other spider members. Some Spanish included but translations can be found at the end. A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. Masterlist

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! Happy Thursday to everyone else!

The air is chilly as you swing through the air. The city is busier than ever with Thanksgiving just around the corner. You spot people already buying groceries for their dinners. You hear of their plans as you swing above them, hearing how they’ll be picking up family from the airport or how they still haven’t decided what dessert to bake for dinner. 

Hearing other people’s plans remind you of the times you had that, back when you still had your parents, Peter, and his Aunt May. The five of you would have dinner together at your parents’ place and it was always a great time but eventually Aunt May passed away. Then it was your parents and that left Peter and you. And now it’s just you ever since Peter’s death four years ago. 

You swing onto a rooftop, staring down at the city’s streets below. It wasn’t until last year that you even celebrated the holidays. You just didn’t have it in you after losing your last bit of family with Peter’s death and cutting off friends from your universe years ago after Peter’s passing, however, ever since joining the Spider Society, things have changed. Last year you had friendsgiving with your spidey friends like Miles, Hobie, Gwen, and the rest of the group. Then, for Christmas and the New Year you were invited to Miles’s building party by the Morales, which resulted in you taking food to Miguel and spending time with him on both occasions. 

Now, this is the second year of holidays with friends, and the thought alone fills you with an immense gratitude after spending three years on your own before joining the Spider Society. You haven’t talked with your friends about any plans for Thanksgiving since you’ve all been busy with missions and the spiderlings have had school but you’re sure by today you’ll be talking about it. Ever since last year’s holidays, things have changed between Miguel and you. He’s far more open ever since he almost lost his life back in the spring and then there’s the Saturday dinners at each other’s places. You can’t help but wonder if he’d be interested in joining you and the rest of the group this year, though you know it’s still hard for Miguel to be open around the others. Still, you hope at least the two of you can do something if he’s up for it. 

With one last glance around your city to make sure everything is alright, you open a portal and travel to Nueva York, finding yourself instantly at HQ. You walk through hallways, nodding to other fellow spider members as they greet you on your way to the cafeteria where your friends informed you they’d be at. You finally reach your destination, taking a seat on an empty chair as the group talks. Being the last one to join, everyone turns to greet you. 

“She’s finally here!”

You laugh and nod. “Sorry guys, morning patrol.” 

“It’s alright, we were just talking about this week’s missions but now that we’re all here we need to talk about Friendsgiving!” Gwen says. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miles says, smiling nervously. “We have family from mom’s side coming and I’ve been put in charge of showing my cousins the city for the next couple of days until Thanksgiving. I won’t be able to attend our little gathering this year. I’m really sorry, guys,” he says apologetically. 

“I… Won’t be either,” Gwen reveals. “Ever since my dad and I made up after I revealed my Spider-Woman identity, he decided to reach out to other relatives and now we’re traveling out of the state to have Thanksgiving dinner with them in Montana. We’re leaving two days before, so I can’t make it either.” 

“Gayatri has a three-day event she was invited to and she’s asked me to go with her. I can’t say no and disappoint her, so I’m afraid I cannot attend, too,” Pav adds with a frown.

And just like that, everyone had some kind of plan that makes it impossible to have Friendsgiving before Thanksgiving like last year. 

“Wait, Y/N, what about you?” Miles asks with a frown. 

You smile and shake your head. “I don’t have any plans but it’s alright.”

There’s an instant buzz around the table about the fact that you have no plans and that you’re going to spend Thanksgiving day alone. You get their attention, trying to calm them down. 

“Guys, it’s fine. Please calm down. Friendsgiving doesn’t have an official date. We can do something afterward, it’s no problem.”

“But you’re going to be all alone,” Margo says with a sad expression. 

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure them. “Seriously. I’ll make some dinner for myself and probably start watching Christmas movies or something.” 

“That sounds nice,” Noir says, nodding. 

“It is, Noir! So, you guys do your thing and we’ll plan afterwards, okay?” you reply, trying to reassure them once again that you’ll be fine, besides you still haven’t asked Miguel if he has plans, though you don’t mention him to avoid answering questions.

Your friends nod, a bit hesitant but there’s nothing else any of you can do. 

“You should come over. You know mom and dad don’t mind. You’re the one that declined the invitation last week” Miles says, reminding you that the Morales family did in fact invite you for Thanksgiving but you were made aware that new family members would join this year.

“Miles, there’s going to be new people. It’ll save us having to lie about me being your school mentor but please thank your parents again for the invitation. I appreciate it,” you say, smiling. 

“I guess that’s true. Plus, my cousins will probably pick up on something. My mom already told me to avoid my ‘actividades de arañita’ to prevent any suspicions,” Miles says with a frown. 

You smile at him. “It’s better to do what Mrs. Morales says. You don’t want to upset her. Just enjoy the day guys! We’ve all worked a lot these past few days,” you say thinking about the multiple missions you yourself have been on only in a few days. “Rest and enjoy your time with your loved ones.” 

About half an hour later after talking and convincing your friends that you’ll be fine on your own, you head to Miguel’s lab with two coffee cups in hand to get some work done. For months now you’ve been working with him on the society’s reports that always consist of the anomalies captured each week, along with information about planned missions and other duties that are assigned to members in order to keep the Spider Society running effectively. After working on the reports on his own for so long, well with some help from Lyla, Miguel asked you a few months ago if you were interested in helping with that after you helped over the few days he was recovering from his injuries. Since then, you’ve been working together on the reports with ease and it’s one less thing Miguel needs to do on his own now. 

You reach Miguel’s lab, calling Lyla’s name as always so she can inform Miguel that you’re there. Despite your friendship and everything you’ve shared with each other over the last year since you joined the Spider Society, you’re still respectful of his space. 

“You know, I don’t think Miguel really cares that you enter his lab without announcing yourself. You could just come in,” Lyla says, appearing out of nowhere, sitting in mid-air with a leg crossed over the other. 

“Miguel doesn’t like it when members enter unannounced,” you reply with a smile. “You know that.”

Lyla grins before she disappears, appearing again a few seconds later. “But you’re not like the other members,” she answers, sliding her heart-shaped glasses down her nose, still grinning. “You know that... Go in.” 

She disappears again, leaving you alone. You enter Miguel’s lab, walking by the many, many surfaces with organized tech pieces thanks to you since you’ve been organizing his lab for months now, until you reach the heart of Miguel’s lab. You find him standing on his platform with his back to you, arms moving as he slides screens around. Upon hearing you, he turns around to face you. A small grin forms on his lips.

“Good morning,” he says, softly. 

“Good morning,” you reply as you approach him, cups of coffee in hand. “I don’t know if you’ve had coffee already but I brought you some.” 

“I haven’t. Thank you,” he says as he accepts the cup from you, smiling softly as he notices you’ve brought him a large one. Somehow you’ve been getting him these large coffee cups from the cafeteria when he used to struggle to get them before. He specifically orders large cups for himself as the regular size cups don’t satisfy his caffeine intake due to his physique yet he was never able to get his hands on them in the past because other members got them before he did. Ever since he mentioned it months ago, you’ve somehow been able to get him these without issue. He still has no idea how but he’s not questioning it. 

“Always,” you reply softly as you head to a desk that has become yours since Miguel set it up for you. You open a laptop, far more advanced since it’s from Miguel’s universe, and begin to work on the report starting with the anomaly section.

The two of you work in peace with Lyla breaking the silence ever so often to tell Miguel something while he continues to work on his screens. As you’re working on the report, your thoughts turn to Thanksgiving, wondering if you should ask Miguel if he wants to join you for dinner. You can’t help but feel a little nervous about it. Sure, the two of you have dinner every Saturday now, rotating from his penthouse to your apartment each week and cooking for each other. And yes, you spent Christmas Eve and Christmas day with him thanks to the Morales family asking you to deliver food for him since he didn’t attend their party after being invited. Despite what happened with Miles and Miguel launching a multiverse hunt to prevent him from breaking canon, in the aftermath of it all, the Morales family care about him and that was why they didn’t want him to be all alone on Christmas Eve, knowing he has no one in his own universe. So, you were sent despite your nervousness only to find Miguel at his home cooking. He ended up inviting you to stay for dinner and even invited you for the recalentado the next day. The same thing happened for New Year’s Eve and since then, the two of you have grown closer but still, you can’t help but feel nervous about it. 

You sneak a glance at Miguel, finding him working on his screens with the cup of coffee in one hand. You turn away after a few seconds, returning back to the report and telling yourself you’ll ask him once you take a break. 

Miguel’s focus is on the multiple screens he has opened. There’s so much to go through especially as there were so many missions this week. His eyes skim through data all from anomalies captured to simple data retrieved from universes that indicate if there’s anomaly matter present. He brings the cup of coffee to his lips, savoring the taste and warmth from it. There’s so much to do but Miguel’s thoughts go to Thanksgiving. He’s been thinking about it for days, wanting to ask you but every time he tried, something popped up. If it wasn’t some anomaly detected then it was someone interrupting him  or you having to return to your universe because of some emergency. Even on Saturday when you had dinner together, he was unable to ask you because Lyla showed up out of nowhere, taking his moment to ask you and after that, he just gave up as the conversation shifted to something else. 

Now Thanksgiving is two days away and for all he knows, you might already have plans with your other friends or perhaps you were invited to Miles’s universe since he knows the Morales family have taken a liking to you ever since you were  introduced to them. He sighs silently, thinking about the ham and other ingredients he already bought. He looks at you over his shoulder, noticing how focused you’re on the report, typing furiously on the laptop as you enter data. He can’t help but smile at the sight before he looks away, trying to avoid being caught staring but when he turns around, there she is. Miguel glares at Lyla, who only grins at him without saying a word. He tries to swipe her away but of course, she disappears before he gets the chance to, only making his glare intensify as she appears on the other side with a smirk. Miguel turns away to focus on the tasks at hand, deciding that he’ll talk to you about it once you stop working to avoid disrupting your flow of work, ignoring Lyla.

The two of you continue to work until an hour passes by. You stop typing and lean back on the chair, stretching. You’ve managed to finish almost the entire section on anomalies but decide to get up. 

"How's the report going?" Miguel asks, stepping off his platform, trying to find a way to ask you about Thanksgiving dinner. 

"It's going well. Almost done with the anomaly section. There's so many this time," you say with a chuckle.

Miguel nods, smiling. "I swear this always happens around the holidays. Hopefully it slows down," he answers, genuinely hoping so everyone can enjoy their days off since he's decided to give not only Thursday but also Friday off on top of the weekend. 

You nod, stretching again, thinking about how to bring up the topic. You clear your throat softly and look up at Miguel. He seems to be looking off to the side with a thoughtful look on his face. 

"So, I -" you start. 

"Hey, I -" Miguel says at the same time as you.

The two of you pause, holding each other's gaze in surprise. You chuckle and Miguel grins, scratching the back of his neck. 

"I'm sorry, go ahead," Miguel says apologetically. 

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" you mumble, embarrassed.

The two of you stare at each other after you talk in unison once again. 

"Should I decide who speaks first?" Lyla asks, appearing from thin air between the two of you with an annoyed but also amused look. 

"No," Miguel immediately says.

"That's not necessary." 

"Uh... Alright, then. Hopefully you guys actually have a Thanksgiving dinner with the way things are going. See ya!" Lyla responds with a smirk before she disappears again. 

"Lyla," Miguel says with a soft scowl but turns to look down at you. "She's been in a mood today." 

"Oh, I definitely noticed," you reply, laughing softly as you remember her comment from earlier about you entering the lab unannounced. 

Miguel shakes his head. "She notices the buzz from the holidays and gets even more... sassy than usual," he says, looking away for a few seconds. 

You smile and nod, guessing that he also wants to ask you about dinner. 

"What I was trying to say earlier was if you... You probably already have plans with the others, so I'm probably very late in asking and you can tell me if you already do, so don't feel pressured to-"

"I was going to ask you the same thing" you say softly. 

Miguel stops, feeling relieved that you've spoken up. He feels heat rise to his cheeks but smiles softly. "Yeah?" he asks gently. 

"Yes. I was just... Trying to get some work done but I was going to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner on Thanksgiving," you reply confidently now that you know that Miguel was also thinking about it. "I don't have a fully established menu but there'll be ham, if that’s okay with you." 

Miguel nods. "Have you bought anything yet?" 

"Not yet but I'm going shopping tonight," you reply, already making a grocery list in your head. 

"In that case, join me for dinner here in Nueva York. I already have everything, including a ham. You don't have to worry about buying anything" Miguel says. "Or cooking." 

You frown softly. "That means you're cooking everything alone. I can help-" you start but Miguel shakes his head. 

"I'm cooking. If anything..." Miguel says thinking before he smiles. "If you want to make some dessert, that'd be great since I just realized I forgot about that." 

"I can do that!" you say with a smile, feeling better about him cooking everything though you know Miguel can manage on his own since he's a great cook. 

"Great! Is six okay?"

You nod. "That sounds good to me,” you reply just as Lyla decides to appear again, clapping.

"Aww, you guys finally did it! Seems like there will be a Thanksgiving dinner after all. I'm proud of you two." 

"¡Cállate!”

"You really are in a mood today, Lyla.”

🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁

Thanksgiving Day

You make sure everything is off in your kitchen one last time, even though you’ve already checked twice, before you grab your reusable bag packed with everything you’ve baked. In the end, you baked some cookies, two pies, and a large cheesecake. You take a quick look around your apartment, making sure the door of your small but homey apartment is locked. With the bag in your hand, you get ready to open a portal but pause when your eyes land on Peter’s photo. Your Peter. You put your hand down, staring at the photo for a few seconds as you’re greeted with his smile. You smile softly. It really has been over four years since his death; so many holidays without him or your parents. 

Despite the years, you can’t help but reminisce on those days again, feeling thankful that these days you can look back at them in a calmer way, without too much sadness. You walk over to the wall to get a better look, finding another one with your parents. 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” you whisper softly.

After a minute or two, you finally turn away and open a portal, stepping out into Miguel’s living room. You instantly feel the cozy vibes of his penthouse. The fireplace is on and there’s a few lamps on here and there, creating a soft and cozy ambiance throughout the space. There’s soft music playing from somewhere and of course, there’s the comforting and mouth watering scent of food filling the air. You can’t help but take a deep breath as all the lovely scents engulf you.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Miguel’s steps, noticing him coming from his kitchen and dining area to meet you. You take in the sight as he approaches you, unable to not find it endearing as he stands before you with a small grin wearing a light gray sweater, dark pants, and an apron. 

“Hey, you made it,” he says as he dries his hands with a towel.

“I did. Sorry if I’m a few minutes late,” you apologize as you did stop to look at your photographs for a few minutes.

“You arrived just in time. Here, I can help you with that,” Miguel says motioning to your bag. 

“Oh, it’s not too heavy. I can carry it,” you say softly. 

“Please,” he says, extending his arm and well, you cannot decline his help again so you let him take the bag. 

“Thank you,” you mutter quietly. 

“Always,” he replies gently, now holding your bag. “Come on in, dinner is almost ready,” he says as he motions for you to go first, always being a gentleman. 

You thank him as you walk in, the scent of food growing stronger as you enter the kitchen and dining area. Just like the living room, this part of the penthouse feels warm and cozy and you can’t help but notice that Miguel even put a pumpkin as decoration on the kitchen island where there’s already utensils and napkins set, the place you always have dinner at. 

You walk towards the chairs, moving out of his way as he places your bag on the counter to the side. He walks around the island, heading to the oven as you begin to unpack your containers, setting them out for later. 

“The ham needs just a few more minutes,” Miguel says as he checks it. 

“It smells amazing. As soon as I arrived, I was hit by the lovely scent of food,” you reply, smiling as you see him close the oven door. He moves to the stove to check on pans, looking as natural as always in his kitchen. 

“Thank you, I hope you enjoy it,” Miguel says, turning around with a small grin before he walks towards the counter, standing across from you. He can’t help but notice how cozy you look in your outfit, thinking it’s always nice to see you outside of your suit. He remembers how almost a year ago, you saw him in normal clothes for the first time on Christmas Eve. He turns around, smiling as he recalls how hard you were trying not to stare at him since he used to wear his suit every day no matter what since he was at HQ around the clock. Now, so much has changed. Thanks to you. “Please go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get the drinks,” Miguel says as he retrieves them, setting them with everything else. 

“Thank you, and I have no doubt I will. You already know I think you’re an amazing cook,” you reply, smiling. 

Miguel smiles, for some reason always feeling happy when you tell him that and even more so when he sees that look on your face that tells him you’re delighted by the food he has cooked. “Well, we’ll see if you like this. I followed a recipe mom taught Gabriel and I before she passed away,” he says as he leans on the counter, unable to stop his flooding thoughts about family. 

Of course, it’s hard not to. Just like you, he always thinks about his family but there’s no denying that the thought of family is especially present during these days of festivities. It’s on days like these that their absence is felt stronger. Miguel sighs softly, looking around for a few seconds before his eyes land on you. This is the first year that he’s celebrating in a while. He had the opportunity to celebrate with Gabriella one time but before that, it had been many years in which the holidays had felt like any other day after Gabriel passed away, too. 

Now he’s here, cooking dinner once again and he’s joined by you, who sits in front of him, also looking like you’re lost in thought. Miguel knows you well enough now to recognize that look on your face; the one you get every time you’re thinking about your loved ones.

Both of you look over at the oven as the timer goes off. Miguel approaches the oven, grabbing oven mitts from one of his counters to pull out the ham. 

“Do you need any help?” you ask but he shakes his head, his back to you. 

“Thank you but don’t worry, I got it,” he says softly as he takes out the ham. He turns around and you get a glimpse of it for the first time, noticing it’s large enough to feed a whole group of people. As if hearing your thoughts, Miguel smiles sheepishly as he places the tray on a counter where he has a set up for it. “You’re probably thinking this is too much and I agree,” he says, removing the oven mitts. “When I went shopping there weren't any smaller ones. Believe it or not this was the smallest one I found and that was after checking a few stores.”

“It’s quite large,” you say with a chuckle. “If we had planned sooner, I could’ve looked in my universe, too but I will say - it looks delicious.” 

Miguel grins, thinking, and perhaps he shouldn’t but he can’t stop himself. “If you’re up for it, next year we’ll know to plan better… although, I’m not complaining about this year” he says softly, meeting your eyes. He really can’t complain, even if he’ll have a whole lot of extra food after he packs some for you to take home because he plans on it. No, he cannot complain after everything that’s happened over the last year, Miguel realizes to himself. He smiles, feeling excited to dig in at last. “Ready?”

You happily nod and so, your Thanksgiving dinner begins. Miguel lists everything he cooked as sides. Even though you approach the stove to see everything and serve yourself, Miguel serves you, asking how much you want of each item. At last, the two of you sit side by side, sitting on the same chairs as always. You enjoy the food and chat while there’s still soft music playing in the background. You talk about the food and compliment Miguel which you notice makes him blush slightly. He eventually asks about your childhood and the holidays, specifically about Thanksgiving, so you tell him about that and he listens intently, nodding and smiling softly when you smile at your own memories. Miguel is about to ask you a question when your gizmo goes off. Right after yours rings, so does Miguel’s, which sits on a counter. You stop talking once his goes off, too, notifying him that he’s received a message. Miguel is about to tell you to go on but just then, the gizmos go off at the same time, making the two of you raise your eyebrows in confusion. 

“Excuse me,” Miguel says, putting his napkin off to the side before standing up. “Let me check that.” 

He walks over to the counter, hoping it’s not bad news though Lyla would’ve already appeared if that was the case but still, he hopes that nothing has popped up elsewhere. He retrieves the gizmo and turns around to head back to you as he scrolls just as you check yours. 

You raise an eyebrow just as another message arrives, noticing it’s from Miles. You open the thread, taken by surprise when you see that Miguel has been added to the group chat. You look up at him, now knowing why both your gizmos went off. The gizmos start going off as more messages are delivered.

Gwen: “Happy Thanksgiving! And happy day to those that don’t celebrate!”

*Miguel O’Hara has been added.* 

Miles: “Happy Thanksgiving!”

Pav: “Happy day, guys!”

HoBiE: “What’s this about?”

Margo: “It’s Thanksgiving, Hobie… Also, Happy Thanksgiving!”

Noir: “Happy Turkey day!"

Porker: “I love me some turkey! Happy Thanksgiving, guys!

Peni P.: “Happy day from me and SP!”

Peter B.: “Hey, guys! Happy Thanksgiving from us! Also, Miguel is on here now?”

Gwen: “Where is Y/N?”

HoBiE: “Who added Miguel?”

Miles: “Does it matter? ¡Hola, tío! ¡Bienvenido al chat!”

You look up at Miguel who seems to be reading the messages as they arrive. You can’t help but smile a bit as you see his furrowed eyebrows. He looks up at you with a questioning look on his face. You shrug. 

“I don’t know who added you,” you say, still smiling and wondering if he’ll reply. 

Another message arrives, pulling your attention. 

HoBiE: “I doubt he’s going to reply.” 

Margo: “Where is Y/N? Has anyone heard from her? 

HoBiE: “I’ll check on her.” 

Gwen: “Already did. She’s not at her apartment.”

Miles: “I thought you were supposed to be in Montana?”

“Seems like they're looking for you," Miguel says softly as he comes back to your side, taking a seat.

"Let me respond really quickly. I don't want to let this amazing food get cold." 

Y/N: "Happy Thanksgiving!" 

HoBiE: "There she is" 

Gwen: "I am in Montana but I decided to check on Y/N." 

Miguel O'Hara: "Happy Thanksgiving."

HoBiE: "The whole government name..."

You look up at Miguel, finding him shaking his head, which makes you want to smile even more since he actually responded.

"The whole government name," he repeats under his breath with an amused tone before he puts the gizmo in front of him. He takes a drink from his glass and looks down at you. "I was thinking it was an emergency, thankfully it's not." 

"I thought so, too. I'm glad we can keep enjoying this meal."

Miguel smiles warmly down at you, seeing that delighted look on your face as you bring food to your mouth. He continues eating but a thought comes to his head. 

"So, you didn't mention dinner to them?" he says as casually as possible, though he can't help but feel off by the fact that you didn't tell your friends. 

You nod, looking up. "I mentioned having Thanksgiving dinner but didn't tell them about you hosting. I knew they'd probably ask questions about your place and you know," you answer, leaving out the part that you've noticed that nobody else at HQ seems to know where he lives nor has been invited. 

Even people like Jess or Peter B., people who you consider are close colleagues to him, don't seem to know. You came to that conclusion back when you stayed for a few days while you were looking after Miguel until he recovered. Jess and Peter B., who stepped up as command during that time, communicated with him through gizmos once Miguel was discharged and sent home after they had gone out of their way to meet with him in person when he was at the infirmary. Your guess was that they knew his home was off limits or they simply didn't know where he lived to meet him in person. 

Miguel nods, understanding now. For a moment he thought you didn’t want your friends to know  about you being here with him for another reason but no, as always, you're thinking about him and his boundaries. 

"I appreciate that," he replies softly. "Some members have asked me before. I'm certain they'd do nothing but I do like my privacy." 

You nod. "I know what you mean. That's why I opted to keep our plans as vague as possible." 

Miguel smiles, feeling grateful to you as always for being respectful to him. "Thank you, Y/N." 

You smile back at him. "Always," you answer gently. 

The two of you keep eating, resuming your conversation from earlier and simply enjoying each other's company. It's not until Miguel gets up to get seconds that he looks at all the food he cooked again. There's going to be a lot of leftovers. He thinks about your friends, a random thought popping to his mind as he sits again. 

"How would you feel if once we're done having dinner - you invite them over?" Miguel says, making you turn your head in surprise as it doesn’t take long to put two and two together about who “them” is.

"Well, it's your home," you reply softly with a smile. "If you want to." 

"But are you okay with it, not being just… us?” Miguel asks. 

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” you reply with a chuckle, noticing the food. “You’re also thinking about how much there’ll be left, aren’t you?”

Miguel grins. “Yes, I am. I think a couple of teenagers and Peter B. might help.”

You grin back. “Then you have a plan. And there’s plenty of dessert, too.” 

“About that…” he says with a sheepish smile. 

“I baked a pie just for you,” you tell him, which instantly makes him smile because you’ve realized over time that Miguel has a sweet tooth. “I’ll hide it.” 

You finish eating dinner while chatting about the spiderlings as you’ve come to call them and shortly after, Miguel and you get the kitchen ready. At last, he asks if you can let them know on his behalf, which you agree. It doesn’t take long before the string of messages arrive all ranging from being surprised that you’re at Miguel’s to the fact that they’re going to see his place for the first time. 

In a matter of minutes everyone, except for Peter B., are standing in Miguel’s living room, thrilled to see his place and talking about what a great view he has of the city and, of course, they talk about the scent of food as they enter the kitchen and dining room area. 

You chuckle quietly as you hear some of the spiderlings say they ate a few hours ago but the smell of food is making them hungry again. Miguel and you serve them plates and before either of you know it, Miguel's dining table, which you guys have never sat on since it's too large for two people alone, is full with your friends chattering about their day.

Miguel and you sit next to each other, listening in and responding when talked to directly, adding to the conversation here and there.

Miguel can't help but look around the table slowly, feeling a bit nostalgic as he remembers the days his mom, Gabriel, and other friends used to gather around the table for the holidays. He feels as though he's back to those days, just with different people. There's still music playing in the background, thanks to Lyla who said it'd set the mood earlier when he was cooking, and the sound of a group conversing filling the air in Miguel's penthouse, once again. 

Miguel looks over at you subtly, finding you talking to Hobie who sits on the other side of you. He smiles faintly, realizing today would've been just another day like so many years before, working at HQ all day and night while everyone was off if it wasn’t for everything that’s happened over the last year. 

You talk with Hobie but eventually look around the table as well, thinking. Last year you were invited to Peter B.’s universe and it was great. It was the first time you celebrated the holidays in three years but this year feels different. You feel lighter, like you’ve really moved forward after Peter’s loss. Your eyes end up on Miguel, who’s already looking your way. You hold each other’s gazes, smiling to each other discreetly before you turn away. 

Upon learning that you brought dessert, everyone jumps at the chance to eat something sweet. The pie and cheesecake are sliced and the cookies begin to disappear one by one. Peter B. shows up at last, carrying Mayday. 

“You guys, I’m sorry. I couldn’t slip out earlier. Too many family and friends around but MJ covered for us. Is that cheesecake? Did Y/N make cheesecake?” Peter B. asks, noticing Pav and Gwen eating a slice each. 

“I did,” you answer before you take a drink from your glass, smiling.

“You should’ve mentioned that earlier, I would’ve found a way to get out sooner,” he replies. 

You cut him a slice, which he immediately starts eating. 

“Best dessert I’ve had all day,” he mumbles, giving Mayday some to try. 

You grin and lean back on the counter with Miguel standing nearby until Miles and Hobie take him away to his living room, apparently impressed by his sound system but before he walks away he gives you a look, as if telling you that he’ll be back soon. You nod back, watching as he walks behind Miles and Hobie. You sigh softly and look at the others as they follow them into the living room, leaving you, Peter B., and Mayday alone. He finishes eating his slice, wiping his mouth and Mayday’s. 

“Seriously, best dessert all day. You should’ve seen some of the stuff MJ’s family brought,” Peter B. says with a bit of a frown, making you laugh quietly. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You can take some with you since there’s still plenty left. I think MJ might like it, too,” you reply as you walk over to the windows. 

Peter follows you, carrying Mayday. “He has a great view.” 

You nod, staring out at the city. 

“So, you and Miguel…” Peter starts, which immediately draws your attention back to him. 

You look around to make sure no one is around, thankfully seeing that everyone is in the living room. Miguel is showing Miles some remote and you faintly hear him call “mijo” to Miles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, quietly. 

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that, though I - Never mind. What I was trying to say is that…” Peter trails off, staring out a window. “It probably sounds cheesy, especially because of the day but I’m thankful to see you and him doing this.” 

You look up at him, eyebrows furrowed. He looks down at you with his Peter B. signature smile before it fades as he thinks of previous years. 

“What I mean is that… I was there when everything happened with Gabriella. You know, I met Miguel before he discovered that universe and he was already so closed off. I don’t know much about his past. I don’t think any of us do, actually. Perhaps you’re the exception now and I’m not asking if you do know or don’t but he shut everyone out. Anyone who tried to reach out was always pushed away. Then he found Gabriella’s universe and well, you know what happened. He was happy in a way that none of us who were already part of the society had ever seen him. After Gabriella - he closed off twice as much. Jess and I wonder if he’d ever recover. If he’d ever let anyone in.” 

Peter pauses, looking down at Mayday and fixing her hair. There’s a frown on his face as he turns to face you again.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. You were alone for three years in your universe, with no friends or family. The first day I met you after Jess recruited you and Miguel accepted your enrollment, I could see how you were closed off, too. Not the same way as Miguel. It was different but you were closed off nonetheless.” Peter pauses and then smiles. “I’m just thankful to see two people I really care about move forward and have each other to lean on. I’m glad you have each other, and that you’ve allowed us to take you in as part of our little family. And it seems that Miguel might be on the same path, hopefully,” he says, looking behind you. 

You turn to look in that direction, finding Miguel surrounded by everyone as he shows them some other advanced device from this universe. You can’t help but smile at the sight, taking a mental picture of it to save forever, though you have your suspicions that Lyla is probably already taking care of photos, considering she has a file that consists of random members’ photos. Appropriate ones, of course. Or so she claims. 

You sigh softly and turn to Peter B., who’s already staring out the window thinking about your lingering gaze on Miguel just moments ago yet, he says nothing about it and holds Mayday closer. You look up at Peter, feeling appreciation and love for one of your dear friends, as you remember your first day at HQ and how he introduced you to the group once you were accepted into the Spider Society. You can’t help but wonder if you would’ve become friends with this group had he not introduced you. The thought alone makes you a bit sad but it’s replaced by gratitude for him and for what he did. You rest your head on his arm softly. 

“Thank you. For introducing me that first day to everyone,” you say quietly. 

Peter smiles. “There’s no need to thank me but you got it, kid. Thank you for accepting us as your friends.” 

Miguel is with the other members, still talking about some device when his eyes find you leaning on Peter’s arm. He continues to talk but his eyes keep watching until you step away, laughing at something Mayday did. The image stays present in his mind the whole time, until it’s just you and him again and everyone has headed home for the night. It’s almost midnight but here you are once again, leaning sideways and looking up at the moon and constellations with mugs of coffee, the kind that Miguel always makes for you now when it’s his turn to host dinner on Saturdays. 

He can’t help but think about how you were leaning on Peter B. so comfortably earlier. He knows between the two of you, you’re far more accepting of physical touch than he is ever since losing Gabriella yet for some reason, seeing you lean on Peter B. has had him thinking. You’ve touched each other before, of course, like back when you were helping him recover after almost losing his life or the brushing of fingers here and there but nothing like how he saw you and Peter B. earlier or the way he’s seeing you hugging your other friends. As he looks up at the stars with you in silence, he seems stuck on this but he says nor does anything about it. For now. He takes a drink from his mug before breaking the silence, looking down at you. 

“Thank you for coming today,” he says with a soft smile. “I enjoyed today. Every part of it.” 

You smile, noticing the last part as you know it still isn’t easy for Miguel to open up to everyone else but today he went out of his way and invited your friends.

“I enjoyed it, too. Thank you for inviting me. The food was amazing,” you answer quietly, meeting his gaze. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he replies, truly feeling happy that you enjoyed dinner. He can’t help but wonder about the rest of the holidays for the year, remembering that last year you came over. He silently plans on asking you about it next week, with plenty of time but for now, he decides to enjoy the present. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Y/N,” Miguel says, grinning down at you. You smile up at him in a way that makes Miguel silently give thanks for you, like so many times before.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Miguel.”

🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁🦃🍁

Translation for italicized Spanish words: Actividades de arañita - spidey activities Recalentado - word translates to "reheated"; this is the act of inviting your closest friends and family the day after you host a party to eat the reheated leftovers, it's supposed to be a smaller tight-knit situation and less formal because it's with close family/friends Cállate - shut up Mijo - short for "my son"; an affectionate term; doesn't have to be used between a parent and their child

[jo-harrington]

Incremental Planning (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Previous Part: On-The-Job Training

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Wicks'n'Sticks!Reader (you'll see)

Summary: You and Steve have been going out for a little while and he suddenly feels the need to step up his game.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Fall 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Wicks and Sticks (formerly at Dippin' Dots; you job hop...it's a thing), New Relationship "Troubles," Infatuation/Crush, Cute Dates, Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Dedicated to @dr-aculaaa (late bday gift), @rosewaterandivy and @carolmunson who've heard little tidbits intermittently but this has taken a minute to come together. And @ghost-proofbaby for the last date idea. Enjoy <3

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

If Steve had to pick one thing that was his best quality, it would be that he was reliable.

"Psshh, yeah right," Robin scoffed. "Reliably late to picking me up for work every day."

"Hey!" Steve argued. "I promised to drive you to school when it starts next week, so could you...I dunno...gimme a break here?"

"You don't need to do your hair every morning; I have band first period so if you could please be a little better with time, I'd appreciate it!"

"Robin!"

Reliable, unfortunately, was boring. And you were anything but boring.

Steve learned quickly that his favorite thing about you was that you changed with the seasons. If the wind blew in a different direction, so would you.

Just like the whole vanilla debacle, you were never satisfied with one flavor. Yeah you liked a root beer float for a while, but before long, you were a banana split person. And shortly after that, hot fudge.

And while changing tastes in ice cream was endearing and made him a little looser--and got him a date--it was how quickly you changed tastes in other things that had him a little worried.

"I quit Dippin' Dots!" you announced one afternoon in early September, throwing your visor at him from across the counter.

"You what?" He stared at you with wide eyes.

"I quit," you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head towards him. "Dippin' Dots."

"No I got that I just...why?" He held his hands out around him. "Rival ice cream shops. That's kind of our thing."

"Well, you're just gonna have to get a job at a rival candle store because you're looking at the new sales associate at Wicks'n'Sticks."

You grinned at him and proudly pulled the little name badge from the back pocket of your jeans, your name already engraved and everything. Steve's eyes darted between it and you, unable to comprehend that you were joking.

"No, I'm not serious," you laughed. "Unless you hate it here, which I know you do."

"Shhh, not so loud!"

"The pay sucks, you always go home sticky, and you get yelled at by every mom in Roane County for getting their order wrong. I've heard you say it enough times Steve."

You were right; he just liked sticking to routines. Routines were nice...reliable.

"So what does that mean for us?" he asked.

"Means we're just gonna have to get another thing," you offered. "Like...making out in the service corridors instead of up against the kiosk after hours."

Ok, so...he could live with that.

What worried him was, well, if you were just just dating reliable old Steve Harrington all the time, you'd get bored with him. Nancy had gotten bored with him and looked for someone...better. You'd already gotten mad at him for being slow on the uptake about the small vanilla cup. What if he was boring in some other way? What if you tired of him just like you tired of your job at Dippin' Dots?

He'd already established a routine with your dates. Movie nights on Thursdays whenever new shows came out, then dinner at Benny's on Sunday nights, and lunch at the food court on Tuesdays when your shifts aligned.

You always said you liked your "dates."

"Is that what they said?" Robin asked as he aired his fears to her on the way to school one morning. "'Dates.' With air quotes?"

"Yeah?" He stumbled over his words. "Why? What are you--why are you--what is that...is that a problem? It's our routine."

"Oh god," she groaned and slammed her head back against the headrest. "You already have a routine? Dating isn't about routines. Is this...did you have routines with Nancy?"

"Yes, why?"

"Ok, new plan of attack," she waved her hands in front of her. "New date ideas. Every week. You, Steve Harrington, are hopeless."

---

The whiteboard in the backroom suddenly became the "Date Idea Board."

Robin had told him to do it as soon as he got to Scoops, brought the board out to the counter with him. Ice cream was less popular in the mornings, it seemed, especially with kids back in school--

He could see why you jumped the Dippin' Dots ship. Aside from the handful of mall employees taking their breaks and wanting ice cream, he was bored.

--so he had plenty of time to think of something before the closing lead came in.

But the board remained blank all the way up until lunchtime.

"What did I do during school?" he threw his hands up in the air as he started towards the food court. "Movies...dinner...parking up at the quarry and making out? We haven't done that yet. I guess..."

He roared in frustration as he got in line at Hot Dog on a Stick, earning dirty looks from several lunch-goers.

"What?" he scoffed at them, and then tried to nonchalantly glance around.

And that's when Steve spotted them, tucked at a table near JCPenney, heads close together as they each held an earpad of a set of headphones connected to a walkman on the table, free hands reaching periodically for a basket of cheese fries: Eddie Munson and the Claire's manager.

It kind of made Steve a little antsy, like he was observing a private moment, the way they smiled at each other and bantered back and forth. He didn't even get this feeling watching couples make out in the hallways at Hawkins High. He wondered for a second if anyone felt that way when they saw the two of you together...

No one saw you together at the movies, or late Sunday nights at Benny's. And during lunch on Tuesdays, you definitely sat across the table from one another...not next to each other like that.

Was that it? Was that the answer? Just...go more places together. He really wished he had someone to ask about this.

And his wish was granted when Eddie looked at the time on his watch and then, with a flick of his girlfriend's dangly earrings, he ran out of the food court.

Steve abandoned his place in line and rushed across to plant himself in Eddie's vacated seat.

"Uh," the manager squinted her eyes at him in recollection. "...hi cherry lipbalm guy."

"It was strawberry, actually," he then pointed to his name tag, "and it's...Steve."

"Hi Steve," she amended and pointed to her own name tag to introduce herself.

"Hi."

It was awkwardly silent for a moment.

"I don't have any lip balm down here," she chewed her fingernail for a moment. "If that's why you stopped by. You have to go ups--"

"I need dating advice," he blurted out. "Again."

"Wha--"

"Where does Eddie take you out for dates?"

"I don't...they're not..."

"Because I...ok you remember the Dippin' Dots cashier?" he launched right into his story, despite her deer-in-the-headlights expression. "They agreed to go out with me--thanks, by the way--but they're...I'm afraid they're getting bored of our routine."

"Routine?" she winced.

"That's what Robin's reaction was too. Sorry, Robin, that's my friend, she works at Scoops too. Anyway..."

Steve continued his tale, telling her about your new job and general shift in likes and dislikes from day to day. How unpredictable you were, how much he liked that about you but how much he feared that meant you wouldn't like him before long.

"And I just...like them so much? I don't want to screw it up."

The Claires manager's expression had softened the longer he talked and once he was done and out of breath she smiled.

"Well this is a really nice development."

"That's all you have to say?" he asked incredulously.

Her expression fell.

"Listen, Steve, I only have 5 minutes left of my lunch and I'm very happy to give you advice if you need it but it seems like you don't really need it. You know what it is your friend likes, or rather...how your friend's likes change...you just need to be...spontaneous and deliver the unexpected!"

"But what is that?" He raked his hands through his hair. "What should I do? What does Eddie do?"

"Eddie doesn't..." she sighed. "You shouldn't just mimic what he does, but he's himself. He's goofy and loud and we do goofy and loud things. He likes snacks, I like snacks...we're constantly sharing food."

She gestured to the cheese fries.

"Just do what feels right? Be yourself. Incorporate them into things that you want and need to do. Need to go to the laundromat? Ask if they want to go and watch the soaps with you while your towels are in the dryer."

For a minute that didn't make much sense to him. That wasn't a date. Who went on dates like that? But...you know, once upon a time he used to watch his parents pretend to waltz as they folded bedsheets together. The love that used to be in their eyes during a menial task.

Not that this was love with you but...he knew he could be a little bit of a romantic. One day maybe...

"I do like All My Children," he finally nodded. "Ok this could work."

"No Steve, wait..." The manager held her hands out as he stood from the chair and started jogging back to Scoops.

"Thank you!" he shouted and waved.

---

Thus began the gauntlet of unexpected, inventive, spontaneous dates.

He started with the Laundromat; it was stuck in his head now and it was either going to be a win or the biggest failure he had. And you'd break up with him.

You were a little baffled when he told you his idea, but you went along with it. He picked you and your basket up promptly at 9am on Wednesday.

"Did your mom stop doing the wash for you Stevie?" you joked as you tossed your basket in the backseat.

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. He actually begged his mom not to snatch up his dirty Scoops uniforms from the hamper so he could take care of them himself. She gave him the proudest smile and a kiss on the forehead.

But he would never tell you that.

You, by chance, were a regular at the All Washed Up on Main Street. Said hello to Cheryl the Attendant, who was folding the hourly drop offs. Had your dollar bills all ready to go and you did a little dance as the change machine chugged and spat out quarters.

You took the lead for him, when he--understandably--looked a little confused.

"Obviously they don't have soap for you to use," you rolled your eyes and slotted coins into the little machine with different soaps and fabric softeners. "You need to bring it yourself. Or buy it. What do you like? Snuggle? Do you like lavender?"

But he still had a few tricks up his sleeves.

He brought Uno and a deck of cards to teach you to play Gin Rummy.

"Just like my granny taught me," he smiled and your expression melted.

And when you started shuffling your clothes into the dryers, he got snacks from the vending machine for you both.

"Dr. Pepper and HandiSnacks." He proudly handed you your treat.

"How did you know I always get this when I come do my laundry?" you held them to your chest excitedly.

---

A night at the arcade was next.

To be honest, Steve thought with everyone's latest obsession over StarCourt, he'd be free to show his face at the Palace Arcade.

Unfortunately, his heart stopped when he saw the gaggle of familiar bikes chained up outside.

"Ooh, ok what do you say to pizza after we play some games?" you asked when you saw the pizzeria further up the strip mall. When you turned to him, you noticed his stricken expression. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he shrugged, trying to act cool. "No nothing, it's just...some kids I used to babysit..."

Great lie there Harrington, you still babysit them.

"...are here. Those are their bikes."

"Aww," your eyes got soft and you put on the baby voice you used to tease him sometimes. "Big bad babysitter Stevie and little his Kindergarten Crew. It'll be fine, they won't bother us playing Skee Ball."

You walked confidently into the arcade, straight to your favorite game, all while Steve sent cursory glances down each row of machines and tried to be as stealth as possible.

Like a ninja, he told Nancy once.

"Steve?" Dustin called as he spotted him ducking between a few Pac-Man cabinets. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh," Steve's eyes slid in your direction and then he waved awkwardly. "Hey Henderson, you know. Killing time."

"Max is trying to unlock a secret level of Galaga," he thumbed over his shoulder. "Maybe you can get next turn if she can't."

"I'd love to I'd just--"

"Steve?" He winced at your voice behind him. "You coming?"

"Yeah," he shot you a smile and then turned back to Dustin with murderous eyes. "I was just telling this little twerp to beat it."

"This one of the kids?" you sidled up next to him and smiled at Dustin. "Hey."

"Hey!" He got a sly look on his face and wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who looked positively livid. "You on a date there, Harrington old boy?"

"Who are you, Jay Gatsby? I like you," you laughed at Dustin and then clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I like this kid; you might as well introduce me to all the little rascals. It'll explain why you're such a PTA mom all the time."

Steve groaned as Dustin grabbed your arm and dragged you over to the rest of the kids, but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat when you gave him a look of sheer glee and affection.

Maybe he was doing something right?

---

He blindfolded you for the next date--the last idea he had for this two week sprint full of creative dates--although...he might not have needed to do it for the whole car ride.

"Steve I'm gonna be sick," you had groaned pathetically from the passenger's seat of his car.

But it was worth it.

He'd gone to the mall office to grab the mail--who knew stores at the mall got mail--when he saw a pamphlet for local tourist attractions and he'd been inspired.

The Fort Wayne Children's Zoo.

You were in awe, it's such a sweet date idea.

The two of you held hands as you dodged groups of field trip goers, parents with their kids on playdates, and other bored adults. You told him fun facts about your favorite animals and his.

"I always wanted to be," you told him, nose scrunched in embarrassment. "I dunno...a vet or a...marine biologist or something. One of those big jobs that kids always dream about. Now I work at StarCourt Mall and I'm on the verge of finding a new job again."

"So do I," he chuckled. "At least you've thought about your future. I sort of never did."

"There's always time," your eyes sparkled. "We're still young and have our whole lives ahead of us. I've been looking at pamphlets for the Tri-County Community College. We could take classes in the next semester."

"Yeah?" he asked, slyly. "We?"

"Shut up," you pushed him to the side.

"Didn't know you'd still plan on dating me next year."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugged but kept his mouth shut, and then steered you towards your final destination.

The Reef.

So it wasn't a full aquarium, but it was close enough. He couldn't drive you all the way out to Indianapolis without arousing suspicion. Besides, the Reef had enough of an array of colorful marine life to make you happy. You gushed over all of the different fish that you recognized as the two of you wound through the small aquarium building.

You'd actually told him about your dream career as a kid before and he'd stored that little tidbit away. Pulled a favor with his mom to pull a favor with someone she knew and low and behold--

"Steve!" you exclaimed as you saw the little setup on the bench in front of the tank of Moon Jellies, an assortment of sandwiches and sodas basking in the blue glow emitted from behind the glass. "What's this?"

"Surprise!" He held his hands out a little pathetically. "The real date...not just the zoo but...a little picnic too."

"I love it!" you laughed.

"You do?" he beamed in relief. "I've...I've really been trying. I know...you're always so...and Robin said I was boring, so I thought maybe we could try some new dates. Not just...dinners and movies. I wanted to make you happy. Make you smile."

He kept rambling on about the other ideas he had, but then confessed that he sort of missed late dinners at Benny's on Sundays because he got to hold your hand across the table. He didn't notice the way your gaze got softer as he said the things that you'd been thinking all day--because these spontaneous dates were great but you missed the sweet dinners at Benny's and the movie nights where you made out in the back row at the Hawk during boring scenes--or how you inched closer you him until your hands were caressing his cheeks and your lips descended on his.

From the outside looking in, it was almost picturesque.

Something from a John Hughes movie as the two of you rocked back and forth in the glow of the jellyfish tank and one big smooch turned into little sweet ones, soft lips pecking at each other, over and over. Tasting the words that you each wanted to say to one another but...didn't quite have the courage to.

Yet.

Next Part: Developmental Achievement

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

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My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[cowgurrrl]

Hi! Love the writing. Could I please request Joel with teenage twins. I just think him being caught in the middle of two teenagers fighting about who stole who’s shirt and being scared for his life is hilarious and kind of sweet.

Holy shit i love this

Salad Days

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author's note: you know that video of Dave Grohl where he's talking about being a dad and the best part and he goes, "Having children that don't fucking care that you're a rockstar. My kids don't give a shit if I'm in the Foo Fighters. They're like 'Daddy, I need a smoothie 🙄 NOW." That's what this gives.

Summary: The T-Shirt Coup [1.2k]

Warnings: the girls are sixteen in this, that's literally it

"Sophia Parker and Violet Isabelle Miller! If you're not down here in five minutes, I'm leavin' without you!" You yell up the stairs. Joel chuckles from his place at the kitchen counter, shoveling cereal into his mouth like it's his last meal, and you give him a look. "What?"

"You had an accent when you yelled at them." He says. You scoff and walk over to him, stealing a sip of coffee from his mug. 

"I did not."

"You totally did."

"Even if I did, which I didn't, you should take it as a compliment." You say, busying yourself with some mail left on the counter. You feel him raise his eyebrows before you see it, and he puts down his bowl to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his chest until your shoulder presses into his sternum. You ignore him and his stupid Laker's shirt he knows you love and read the same letter from the girls' school over and over again.

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"I've been married to you for twenty-two years, and you're just now finally rubbing off on me. It's something to celebrate, really." You snark, and he laughs. It's one of his big, full laughs that makes him throw his head back. The sight makes your heart shine.

"You're an asshole." He says lovingly, taking the mail he knows you don't care about out of your hand and turning you so he can have your full attention.

"Yeah, yeah," you laugh as you lock your arms around his shoulders. "What do you have planned for today, Mr. Miller?" You ask, and he sighs.

"I gotta go into the studio. We just signed a new band, and we're havin' a meeting to talk about the next album," he says. Despite the annoyed tone he's adopted, you can see how excited he is about this new venture. He loves allowing new, young bands to make something fresh. He says it keeps him young. You know it's what he was meant to do all along. "What bout you? What're you doin' today, Mrs. Miller?"

"One of my old students has a project they want to pitch for me to produce. She's brilliant and an amazing writer, so I'm sure I'll say yes and shell out all our money."

"For the children," he says dramatically, and you laugh. "She's lucky to have you in her corner. I'm sure it'll be great." His words hit right where they need to, and you press yourself closer to him.

"You're a sap." Your words ghost over his lips, and his hand slides into your back pocket like always.

"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. You're less than an inch apart, and it wouldn't take much movement to actually kiss him, but you like being this close to him. You like counting all his freckles and watching him try to decide who will be the first to break. His lips barely graze yours when suddenly stomping feet and a loud argument make their way down the stairs and into the kitchen. You take a deep breath as you and Joel turn to look at the girls, who barely acknowledge how you're wrapped up in each other because they always see you being affectionate with each other. Joel Miller has not gotten more subtle about his PDA in his old age.

"Mom, please tell Violet this is my shirt!" Sophia demands, tugging on the fabric of a worn UT shirt. 

"I literally wore it last week! You commented on it and everything!" Violet looks to you. "Do you remember, Mom? I was wearing it when we went to Trader Joe's on Thursday."

"That's true. You were," you say, making Sophia's jaw drop. Of the two, Sophia has always had a little more flair for the dramatics, something she definitely gets from you. On more than one occasion, Sophia has done or said something ridiculous, and Joel bursts out laughing because he thinks it's something you would do or say. "But Vi, I told you last week that you stole my shirt from my closet, and I wanted it back. I thought you were gonna, at least, wash it first."

"Ew! You didn't wash it?!" Sophia screeches.

"Of course, I did, dipshit! I just... forgot Mom wanted it back." 

"Wait a second," Joel says, finally catching up with the argument. He looks between the shirt and the three of you before tilting his head to give you an are-you-fucking-serious-right-now look. "I've been lookin' for that for weeks! That's my shirt." He says. Suddenly, it all connects. You stole it from Joel. Violet stole it from you. Sophia stole it from Violet. As the realization settles over the room, Sophia walks over to Joel, puts her hand on his shoulder, and squeezes like a disappointed teacher.

"Our shirt." 

"Communism shirt!" Violet yells, making you laugh so hard that you stumble against Joel.

"You can't just yell 'communism shirt' and expect me to not want my shirt back." He tries to argue.

"Dad! You're not listening. It's a community shirt. Get with the times, old man." 

"Old man?!" 

"Hey, I happen to think he's a very hot and sexy old man." You jump in, and the girls groan.

"Thank you, baby," Joel says as he kisses you firmly. The girls boo and pretend to cover their eyes in disgust, making you all laugh. You pull away from Joel, but he chases your lips for a few quick kisses until he finally lets you go.

"We're gonna be late if we keep talking about the communism shirt. Girls get in the car, please," you say, stealing one more sip of coffee from Joel's cup, and the girls groan in protest as they slip on their backpacks and walk to the front door. You smile as you look at Joel, alone again for just a second. "You gotta start hiding your shirts better otherwise, they're all gonna become Marxist property." 

"This is somethin' they should really put in the parenting books," he says, and you laugh. He grabs your purse from the kitchen table for you and kisses you again as he slides it up your arm. "Love you."

"Love you, too. Let me know how the album meeting goes."

"Let me know how the pitch goes." He echoes. This is how much of your life has been together: letting each other go and make creative decisions while supporting them no matter how they play out. Many Hollywood couples get divorced because they can't learn how to give their partner the support and patience they need to create art. You and Joel have always been good about making sure the other feels supported and heard but not weighed down by differing artistic opinions or thoughts. He has his work, and you have yours, and you make it work. It's one of the reasons you love him so much. That and the fact that he still walks you to your car and opens the door for you after more than twenty years together. Granted, he smacks your ass in front of your daughters while you're climbing into the car, but that's par for the course. 

He blows kisses to his teenage daughters in the backseat and waves as you roll down the driveway, standing there until you disappear around the corner. His cologne is imprinted on your shirt collar, and you can still feel his lips on yours when Sophia sits up in her seat.

"I can't believe Dad didn't know about communism shirt."

[emeritusemeritus]

86 Baby! [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Part 1

Title: 86 baby!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (friends to lovers), Implied Steve Harrington x Reader

Timeline: S4, set two weeks before graduation. Some Canon has been altered to fit the story; no Vecna, Byers never moved and Hop is alive.

Summary: In two weeks, you and your best friend Eddie would be graduating, taking your planned road trip and riding off into the sunset to leave Hawkins behind, until one little secret throws everything down the drain.

Warnings: it’s a little angsty, swearing, implied fake relationship, standard tropes, Eddie gets a little mean in part 2, drinking, deception.

Monday.

"Sooo..." Eddie draws out as he takes his usual seat next to you in the cafeteria, none of the other regulars appearing yet.

Eddie had met you outside of your classroom to walk with you to the lunch room, appearing outside the wooden door suspiciously early before the first bell sounded, a tradition that had begun on your first day of high school. He'd paused briefly as you approached the usual table and gestured flamboyantly for you to sit down first, sliding your chair in for you slightly before taking his own seat at the head of the table.

He sits awkwardly with one leg up on the plastic chair and one dangling next to you outstretched, but somehow for Eddie, that's what is comfortable.

“Tonight. I'm feeling a really crappy budget slasher and too much pizza," He says with a grin, placing down his metal lunchbox and absently pulling out a baggie of trail mix, which is mostly pretzels, navigating the array of suspicious paraphernalia inside.

"Oh," you reply, brain working overtime as you fight to think of a feasible excuse to avoid your weekly ritual, having forgotten all about it under your current stresses. "I'm sorry I totally forgot to tell you!" You giggle awkwardly, the little chuckle sounding absurdly fake to even your own ears. "I've got to help my mom pack tonight, she's going to see her friend from college over the weekend, I said I'd try and spend some time with her before she left, she's actually picking me up early tonight so you won't have to drop me home." You shrug gently, not quite meeting his eyes as you feel his curious gaze lingering upon you as he takes in your words. Okay, not a complete lie but also not the complete truth either.

"Oh, okay," he mumbles, sounding so dejected that you immediately feel the tugging weight of shame at your avoidance of him.

"Maybe we could do it another night instead, maybe Thursday?" You ask quickly, lifting your eyes to his, seeing that his face portrays every ounce of disappointment that his words did.

"On Hellfire night?" He asks sharply, his tone clipped and rudely sarcastic. "What's going on with you?" He asks brashly, eyes squinting as he examines your face, knowing that something isn't right.

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to feign innocence.

"What do I mean? Lets see princess, firstly you forget our Monday movie night, a tradition unbroken since the dawn of time within the realms of our friendship, you disappeared on me last week, not warning me that your mom was picking you up early so I waited in the car park for 40 minutes. You didn't show up to our gig last Tuesday, and now you're forgetting Hellfire meets?" You can almost feel the twist of the knife with each of his words, his accusatory tone only increasing the guilt within you. Hearing all the examples together made you feel awful; all the evidence laid bare before you as to why you were a shitty friend recently.

"So come on, what's the jig princess?" He leans forward in his chair, eyes still squinting as you fight not to squirm under his intense gaze.

"Nothing! I told you I wasn't feeling well last week at first break, and I left a message with Miss Thomas to let you know I was going home!" You reasoned, still lying through your teeth at the motive, though you had thought to ask the office administrator to pass along a message to let him know you wouldn't be riding home with him, though they clearly had never reached out to him. "And Tuesday I had to take an extra shift at Benny's," you shrugged, trying to deflect the blame. “You know my car’s fucked, I’m trying to get it fixed.”

Mercifully, Gareth and Jeff were quickly making their way over to the table with their lunch trays and you visibly deflated with relief. Eddie shot a look towards the approaching party and turned once more to glare at you, fixing you with a look that told you that this conversation was far from over.

More of the Hellfire group began to spill in and you were thankful for the distraction, seeing that Dustin was hyped up over something that dominated the conversation you were barely listening to. Eddie was tense throughout the lunch, offering little to the conversation as he sat back and ate his pretzels, glaring about the room and huffing under his breath. The guys knew better than to provoke him when he was in this mood, knowing he was volatile at the best of times and so they carried on their conversation around him, trying to include him every now and then but not pushing.

When the bell rang, you quickly gathered up your bag and the lunch you'd only picked at, having found your appetite severely diminished by the tension and lingering guilt from the conversation with Eddie. Luckily, your Monday afternoon schedule did not coincide with Eddie's and you wouldn't have to see him for the rest of the day. You felt guilt and uneasy at lying to him, having never done so before, but you reasoned that it was for a good cause, even if you did feel conflicted.

The afternoon dragged on as you sat in History class, not paying a single ounce of attention to Mrs Click as you jotted down plans and lists and notes in your little notebook as ideas popped into your head. When the bell rang, signalling the time to head to the last class of the day, you all but sprinted out the front doors of the school and out into the car park where a car was waiting for you. Specifically, a burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.

You turned your head quickly to try and see if anyone was looking and quickly slipped into the passenger side, throwing down your bag into the footwell as you turned to greet your chauffeur.

"Hey," you smiled, looking up at the driver, who offered you a warm smile back, before you nervously look around once again to check that no one was watching.

"Hey you," Steve said with a wide smile, running his hand through his hair as he rested his elbow on the open window.

"Drive! I don't wanna get caught!" You prompted, quickly securing your seatbelt as you ushered him to drive away quickly. He chuckled, shaking his head but did as you requested and immediately began to drive out the parking lot and onto the main road.

"You know if you're ashamed of being seen with me, we might need to have a little chat," he grins, not looking at you but instead focusing on the road in front, a grin tugging at his lips at his own sarcastic comment.

"Oh hush, Hair-ington," you joke, rolling your eyes. "Simply thinking of you. You sure you wanna be seen collecting a kid from high school after you graduated last year, old man?" I joked, trying to push his buttons just a little. His face instantly scrunched up on displeasure until he shot me a disbelieving look.

"Pretty sure your boyfriend is older than me," he grumbles. I immediately know whom he's referring to.

"Eddie is not my boyfriend for the hundredth time," I say quickly, perhaps a little too defensively. "Plus he's still at school, so it's not creepy." You chuckle.

"Yeah because that makes it better," he adds sarcastically. You playfully blob your tongue out at him before nudging him gently by the shoulder.

"Not for much longer though," Steve says after a few moments, referring to our upcoming graduation. A pit of nervous excitement settles in your stomach as you think of your plans for graduation, glad to be rid of Hawkins High.

"I know, less than two weeks!" You babble excitedly, earning a laugh from Steve at your apparent elation.

"You know it's really not all it's cracked up to be, the adult world," he reasons, suddenly looking downcast as he thinks to how his life has turned around.

"Hey, just because you didn't go to college doesn't mean you're a failure you know," I protest, knowing that his lack of college education was always a sore spot with him, having spoken about it at great lengths only last week.

"I know it's just, not really how I thought I'd end up. Always figured I'd be able to leave Hawkins and branch out, broaden my horizons and all that, or I'd get stuck working for my dads company. Never thought I'd be working in a rental video store 40 hours a week and still living at home with my parents at 19," he mutters, grabbing his nose with his hand as you'd observed him so anytime he was upset or stressed.

"Yeah but at least you're free," you counter, adding more before he could protest, "the way I see it, you're making money, that money can go on a deposit or the start of a college fund, whatever you want to do more. Then when you finally get where you want to be, you have the satisfaction that you made it all by yourself, no help from mummy and daddy, just your own accomplishments."

He's quiet for a few seconds as he ponders over your words, nodding gently as he processes them.

"When did you get so wise?" He chuckles, looking over at you, earning a laugh in return.

"I've always been wise, you just never chose to listen." Both of you laugh as you watch the tree line get denser and denser as you pull away from the main roads, out towards the Byers' house.

The Byers house was the perfect place for your secret little meetings. It was hidden away at the ass end of Hawkins, tucked away behind the lab, a fair drive from the centre of town and away from all your friends houses, including the furthest place from the trailer park, (not counting the Wheeler house but that was too risky incase saw you and Mike opened his big mouth). The Byers' house was close enough to Harrington's that he could park up at home on Cornwallis and walk across to the Byers' on Mirkwood through the woods and no one would be aware of anything out of the ordinary, should they come round poking their noses in.

Joyce was a gracious and willing host and had offered you her house for your little meetings, keeping you away from prying eyes, something both of you were thankful for.

Approaching the Byers' house, you climbed out of the BMW and gave a little wave as Steve drove back to his house to park the car; he would join you in 5 minutes after walking the little path that lead him out directly facing Castle Byers, ready for your meeting.

Your little meets had been happening more and more frequently in the past couple of weeks and you were almost sad that they would be coming to an end, both because you were enjoying your time spent with Steve and because it was fun to sneak around. Joyce had naturally been sworn to secrecy and true to her word had not told a single soul, except maybe Hopper. Jonathan had run into you accidentally one day as he arrived home early from dropping Will off somewhere but it really hadn't been too hard to cover up as Steve jolted out the back door and you had stuck around for dinner with Joyce and Jonathan, something not entirely unheard of.

The only issue was Eddie, as proven by your little set-to in the cafeteria today. He was becoming increasingly paranoid and suspicious of your whereabouts and your sudden flakiness, which was alarming. You'd called off your meeting with Steve Thursday in order to sit in on Hellfire instead, trying to prove to Eddie that you were still there for him, though you felt torn once you realised what you'd rather be doing.

The rest of the week came and went and you'd been entirely successful in hiding your rendezvous with Harrington, even seeming to put Eddie's mind to rest once you arrived at Hellfire, much to his surprise. He'd put on quite a show for you that night, his eyes flickering over to you frequently as you listened intently to his stories, the DM telling the cult of Vecna campaign so eloquently that you had been mesmerised by his performance the entire night.

You were never an official member of Hellfire, instead choosing to observe and assist rather than play. Sure you had a few Hellfire shirts gifted by Eddie, some you even used to sleep in that been printed with faults and some practice prototypes on different shirt silhouettes and you'd devised campaigns and character sheet with him occasionally but you never actually joined in the campaigns unless you were acting as an emergency sub. Eddie liked to call you his glamorous assistant, likening you to a magician's right hand lady but you always opposed this, stating you were more like the dungeon master's puppet, pulled by strings for his own means.

With your mom gone, you two had hung out at your place after Eddie had driven you home from Hellfire. You'd ordered a pizza and watched an old horror movie that Eddie loved, hoping that it would make it up to him.

Everything was going well until the following Tuesday came around.

Tuesday: the weekly ritual of Corroded Coffin's scheduled gig at the Hideout, 8pm til 10:30pm, never to be missed. You'd missed the previous week and you knew that you couldn't miss this one, after seeing how hurt Eddie had been, not to mention the offhanded comments from the rest of Corroded coffin at the lunch table. You thought your plan of ditching Phys-Ed Tuesday afternoon and having Steve pick you up around the corner from the school would be flawless; you'd even gone as far as timing your departure with his shift finishing at family video so it would look like a coincidental meet on Cherry, near the church plaza as no one would think twice about him seeing you across the parking lot from the video store and offering you a ride home. Eddie usually skipped that class anyway and had a few deals scheduled in during his self made free period, so he would be conducting business at the bench in the woods, far out of sight of the entire school, and more importantly, your exit route.

All had gone to plan right up until you checked the clock hours later and saw that it was 7:45pm and you were going to be late to the show.

"Shit!" You cried out, throwing down your stuff and quickly reaching for your backpack stuffed on the side of the sofa. You frantically dug through your bag to fish out the handmade corroded coffin shirt that you'd stuffed in there earlier today and quickly threw it on over your bra, which you had stripped down to earlier that evening so avoid getting your shirt dirty.

Steve, who lay on the floor beside you only moments ago looked on with a shocked expression, confusion littering his features as he watched you dress.

"Can you give me a ride to the hideout?" You asked quickly, running to the bathroom to quickly fix your hair and makeup, checking that nothing had smudged.

"Uh yeah, sure," he says, throwing on his shirt from earlier, grimacing as he slips the button up over his sweaty body. He runs a hand through his hair, attempting to smooth it out as he watches you flutter around in a rush.

You appear a moment later, quickly shoving things into your backpack, careful to avoid any liquids from spilling as you try to straighten up Joyce's living room. You all but run out of the door only to exclaim profanities again as you realise you forgot your borrowed keys, knowing that they'd probably been thrown to the bottom of your bag in your haste.

"Relax, I've got it," Steve says, twisting the key in the door that Joyce had graciously had made for both of you for times exactly like this.

"Thanks," you said gratefully, trying to calm yourself but it was a pointless endeavour. Your heart was pounding as you entered the car, eyes never leaving the little digital clock that seemed to taunt you the entire journey. You were thankful that Steve never commented on your frantic demeanour, nor the reason behind it and even more thankful that he'd chosen to drive quickly, just barely on the right side of the law.

You're luck has officially ran out.

With minutes to spare, Steve pulled up to the Hideout and into the parking lot, only to be right in the line of sight of Eddie's van, and more importantly, Gareth. He peered over in curiosity, leaning against the van as he smoked a cigarette, his usual ritual just before they took the stage. He seemed to say something to himself briefly only to be joined by Jeff a moment later, who had jumped out of the van clutching his guitar. You could see their lips moving, both of them looking directly at you, no doubt running their mouths about the curious sight of you in the car with Steve Harrington. You sighed, defeated, knowing that they would never let you live this down and your stomach dropped an inch further with the realisation that there was no was in hell they wouldn't tell Eddie.

"Thanks Steve, I'm really sorry about this," you mumbled, not really knowing what exactly you were apologising for but feeling a level of embarrassment at your actions. You begin to open the car door and grab hold of your bag until he replies, keeping you sat inside the car for a moment longer.

"Hey don't worry about it," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Want me to walk you out?" He asks, his eyes peering into yours as he tries to offer support. 

"No that's okay, I-" you begin to say, only to be cut off by an obnoxious shout.

"Harrington!" Jeff calls out, acknowledging the man in the car as both his and Gareth walk towards you, each with curiously smug smiles on their faces.

"H-hey guys," Steve stammers slightly as he greets them, stepping out of the car as he gives them a small restrained wave with his right hand, whilst holding on to the door.

"Y/n, didn't think we'd be seeing you tonight," Gareth says curiously, his words holding an air of suspicion which made you nervous.

"Well I'm here," you shrug, trying to downplay your panic, "just like always."

"Except last week," Jeff adds quickly, immediately grimacing as he shoots you a remorseful look at his quipped tone.

"So Harrington, what?" Gareth begins to ask, only to be cut off by a figure moving out from the back door.

"Guys what the hell, we're on in- oh." Eddie says as he thrusts his way out of the back door, immediately coming to realise what he was seeing. His face drops instantly, a harsh glare forming in his eyes as he looks between you and Steve, each of you clearly having just exited the car together.

"Harrington," Eddie nods once, clipped and unpleasant as he stares at you, trying to understand why you would be in the car with Steve.

"Munson," Steve replies, though his tone is lighter and more polite as he nods back to the man who still appears shell shocked.  There's a tense silence that washes over us all for a few moments, with both Gareth and Jeff shooting glances at Eddie who's face seems thunderous.

"I should get going," Steve suddenly says, turning to face you with a look in his eyes that shows his discomfort.

"Yeah totally, thanks for the ride," you reply, trying to keep it short and sweet, not wanting to disclose any information to the 3 boys stood watching your every move. Steve smiles in return and ducks his head back into the car as you walk away from the passenger side, over to where the boys are stood.

"What, no kiss?" Eddie says venomously as he watches Steve drive away. You immediately frown at his words and sudden bad mood, trying not to let his words affect you.

"Yeah because I kiss every guy who offers me a lift when I'm too broke to get my car fixed," you sarcastically reply, hoping to deflect away the insinuation.

"I could have given you a ride," he says, eyes still fixed on the car as it drives away onto the north Highway, back into town. "If you'd been around lately."

He then walks off, not once turning to look back at you. The guys wordlessly follow him, knowing it's time to go on stage, but not before shooting you sorrowful looks of apology, neither of them realising that Eddie would be so wound up.

You follow them through the back door and instantly turn left instead of following them right towards the stage area. You stalk over to the bar, Eddie's bad mood clearly rubbing off on you as you throw yourself onto a high bar stool and order a double vodka and coke, hoping to ease some of the tension in your body with alcohol. The hideout was notorious for forgetting to check ID, and you used that little fact to your satisfaction tonight. The night didn't really improve at all, except that you'd had enough vodka in your system to numb the ache ever so slightly, freeing you from the overwhelming discomfort of conflicting emotions brought on by Eddie's venom. Their set was good but not great like usual, no doubt on account of Eddie's tenseness and vile mood which prevented him from playing as well as usual, his entire body seeming tense as he avoided all eye contact with you throughout the show.

You were in two minds to stick around after the show, not knowing if Eddie would offer you a ride like normal or whether you'd have to hitch a ride home some other way. Walking would be too dangerous and frankly too far to walk, given your alcohol consumption and overbearing weariness, plus calling Steve seemed like a really bad idea, like adding fuel to any already burning fire. You could call your mom but you knew she'd smell the alcohol on you straight away and you'd be lectured until the end of eternity. Maybe Jonathan would come for you ?

When you walked up to the guys after their set, offering to help load the van just like normal, Eddie virtually ignored you and instead hoisted the heavy equipment by himself. Gareth and Jeff had tried to make small talk, trying to diffuse the tension and Richard, the bass player, had looked on in complete confusion at the tense exchange.

"Gareth can you take her home? Got some shit to do," Eddie states blankly, nodding his head towards you, never once allowing his eyes to drift in your direction. He couldn't even use my name. Had seeing me with Harrington really hurt him that badly?

"Uh yeah sure man," Gareth replies, looking at me with what can only be described as pure pity. Eddie doesn't wait around for anything other than a confirmation before he climbs into the van and drives away like a maniac, leaving all of us standing out in the cold.

It's quiet for a few moments, no one really knowing what to say. Do they comment on it or do they avoid the elephant in the room entirely? Either way, you weren't waiting around to find out.

"Y/n, you can-," Gareth begins to say, gesturing towards his car parked a few spaces away.

"Thanks Gareth but it's cool, I'll just call Jonathan, he owes me one," you shrug, trying to downplay the hurt you were feeling, embarrassed that you were left to be a burden on the other members.

Gareth tries to protest but you wave your hand dismissing him, silencing him in the nicest way you could as you begin to feel the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, willing them to disappear.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow, great show," you manage to say before walking back inside the hideout, tears making their way down your face as you can finally hide away from their view. You walk to the pay phone and freeze, thinking of your limited options before dialling an all too familiar number.

"Hello?" The voice answers, sounding sleepy as if you'd probably just woke him up. You check the clock on the way behind you and fight back a sigh, not realising the time.

"I'm sorry, I've just woken you up haven't I," you said sympathetically, feeling guilty of the fact.

"It's fine, honestly, Y/n, you okay?" He asks quickly, sounding concerned. You can hear a faint rustle in the background and you can envision him sitting up in bed, covers falling at his waist as he runs his spare hand through his hair.

You sigh, willing the tears to go away as you fight to take a shaky breath, not really knowing how to answer.

"I- no not really," you fight to get it out, lip wobbling slightly in your pathetic state. "Could you pick me up? I'm alone and I didn't know who else to call, I'm really sorry Steve," you all but whimper, babbling.

"He left you?" Steve sounds outraged, immediately knowing that something must have happened between Eddie and yourself.

"Kind of, he took off," you said, sounding small, not really wanting to go into detail.

"Stay right where you are, I'm on my way. Don't let anyone talk to you or give you a drink or anything okay? I'm coming." He immediately goes into protective dad Steve mode as you hear him bolting around his room for clothes.

"Thank you, so much," you say pathetically.

"I'll be right there Y/n okay, stay safe, I'm coming."

Steve hangs up the phone and you sink down into yourself on the little phone booth, feeling utterly broken and pathetic. The vodka in your system had all but dried up, the actions of tonight sobering you up quickly as you were left alone to deal with the consequences of your actions.

Steve arrived in 7 minutes, which you were sure must have been some sort of record. He immediately burst out of the car after throwing it into park and enveloped you in a tight hug as you cried once again. He pulled back and ran his eyes over you, checking for any signs of you being hurt but then gave you a sad smile when he realised you were only hurting on the inside.

"Come on," he says gently, pulling at your hand as he leads you back to the car, opening the door for you. "Milkshakes make everything better." He gives you a warm smile and closes the door, before walking quickly to his side and climbing in.

"Steve you really don't have to, I already feel bad enough that you had to come get me," you protest but he shushes you quickly, a serious look falling across his face.

"I'm glad you called me, you should have never been left alone."

"He dumped me on Gareth but I knew he didn't want to get involved or really drop me home so I didn't know what else to do," you confessed.

"He should have taken you home, mad or not. You made the effort to be here, he should see that."

The two of you talked in the car for a little while longer, with Steve being the ideal shoulder to cry on, both figuratively and literally and by the end of the night you did feel better.

"I just don't know why he was so angry," you said honestly, finishing the last of the milkshake he'd bought you from Benny's.

"You really don't see it?" Steve replies, giving you a sad smile.

"See what?" You ask naively, unsure of what hr was talking about.

"He's jealous. He probably thinks we are together and that you hid it from him. Not because he thinks he's being replaced as your friend but because he thinks someone else swooped in and took a shot before he could."

"That's... crazy. Eddie doesn't have any intention of 'taking a shot' with me, believe me," you say quickly, feeling as if you'd disclosed too much already.

"So you want him to?" Steve asks curiously, though his question isn't laced with sarcastic undertones or any hint of teasing.

"Yes," you answer quickly and honestly, needing no time to think.

"He drives me crazy, he's so smart but so fucking stupid sometimes. When it started we were just friends then all of a sudden one day I started noticing things about him, stuff I'd never thought of before. I noticed how often he'd look at me or reach out for me, always checking if I was there or if I was paying attention before he'd burst out into dramatics, smiling and laughing with me when it was over. Then the butterflies came each time he'd do something like that and I'd think wow what if he's feeling this too. A few times I was sure he was going to make a move, it all seemed so intimate at times, the looks and the gestures but then, nothing. He'd change the conversation or he'd look away and I'd be reeling thinking of why. I guess he just doesn't see me like I see him."

You couldn't help but babble your way through a monologue Shakespeare himself would be proud of, hardly even pausing for breath as you reeled off your thoughts and emotions into Steve's listening ears.

"I think he does," Steve says calmly after a few moments of quiet. You look at him with sad eyes and he offers a little smile. "You're beautiful, funny, caring, he'd be absolutely blind or crazy if he didn't realise that." You blush at Steve's words, wanting to hide your shy smile but you persist. "I can promise you that the only reason guys aren't lining up at your door is because Eddie has either scared them off or they already think you're a couple. Hell, I'd have shot my shot at you if it weren't so apparent that you were inseparable with him, well, that and your horrible taste in music," Steve jokes.

"Hey! Judas Priest are metal gods and you can't deny that! But thank you Steve," You laugh, along with Steve who's expression had warmed.

"You'll get through this, you and Eddie. You just have to give him some time to come around."

So that's exactly what you did. Problem was, that wasn't what Eddie was doing, he was giving you both space and time.

[writing-bakugo]

Working on a Kirishima fic and have no direction so thought I'd share my biggest headcanon that I've been keeping secret but can't anymore because its TOO good.

Kirishima's Significant Other

Everything weighed him down. Yes, he had his dream job. Yes, he worked close with his friends. Yes, he saved people.

But no one told him how lonely being a pro would be.

Kirishima was trying his hardest. He truly was. But after the third dead person he couldn't save in a single week? It was no secret his smile had started to shrink when he wasn't working and his shoulders slumped more and more.

Of course he did what he could. He was a good man and went to therapy every week and did exactly as the therapist recommended. He even did service projects where he would go help cook or clean at orphanages or homeless shelters.

But no one warned him being a pro would be like this. There was no preparation for the weight that pros carried on their shoulders. And it didn't matter that he was alone.

Kirishima was so terribly alone. After watching all his high school friends get married one after another—even Bakugo, the most unstable man in existence—Kirishima wondered what was wrong with him.

It's not like he didn't have a plethora of fans dying to date him. But none of them lit so much as a spark under him. It wasn't their fault, he just...wasn't interested.

But maybe if he had someone waiting at home for him the weight wouldn't be so bad. If he had a home to come home to, maybe the stress could melt away and he'd finally relax.

His weeks had a routine to them. Monday-Wednesdays were patrol days, Thursday was his day off, Friday-Sundays he was on call. Which he tended to get called in.

So that left Thursdays being the only day of the week that he could do his laundry, clean his kitchen (like his mother taught him), buy groceries, meal prep (Kirishima has a strict diet), and go to therapy.

Hectic, methodical life. Always in motion but never participating. So Kirishima dragged himself to the store and unsurprisingly was swarmed by fans who wanted his autograph.

One even had the gall to ask for his number. She looked like she was in middle school.

And then he was finally in the frozen food section searching for frozen chicken. He always bought the same brand, same packaged chicken. Not for any particular reason, but because it was easy to remember with the bright red logo.

He tossed the last bag in his basket and made to leave when you appeared and frowned at the empty freezer. You wore loose mom jeans and a plain t-shirt with purple stains on it. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and you didn't even bother with makeup.

When you noticed him, you smiled. "You got the last one! Lucky!"

"Oh yeah," Kirishima said and watched you scan the freezer for a replacement. "Do you want it?"

"Huh? No! That's yours! I couldn't!"

"Here." He held it out like some sort of treaty before you shook your head and he laughed. "I insist."

"I suppose if you insist," you said and took the bag. "Thank you! Do you need help finding more?"

"I'm not too worried about it," Kirishima said before reaching into the freezer for ground beef.

You slightly bowed before you went on your way. A few years earlier, Kirishima had a pretty good meal plan surrounded by beef, so he figured he could change it up a bit a make his old recipes.

When he stood in the checkout line, he saw you two registers down. You bowed slightly and apologized before pointing at a cake mix. The cashier set it to the side and Kirishima's eyes widened. Did she not have enough for a cake mix?

The register opened and he turned away, letting the person behind him go before he rushed to the baking aisle and grabbed a cake mix. He didn't really know what he was doing, but it was his hero's duty. And who knew? It could be your birthday or something and you really wanted a cake.

When he checked out, he looked through the doors and wondered if you'd gone far. Kirishima rushed the cashier before he grabbed his three bags and ran out the door.

There you were. You were struggling with putting your bags on the back of a bike and Kirishima grinned when he came over.

"Sorry, I noticed you wanted one of these, so..."

Your eyes widened. "How...thank you." You bowed deeply. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no biggie."

The next week passed. And the next. He didn't see you at the grocery store either times. But, third time's a charm when you appeared and pulled out a bag of frozen chicken.

"Looks like there's enough for both of us, huh?" Kirishima asked when he put a bag in his basket.

"Oh hey! How are you?" You asked. "Thank you so much for the cake, by the way. I didn't know what to do. It was my baby boy's birthday and I wanted to make it special but money's tight right now."

Baby boy. Kirishima stared at you with a drooped smile. He noticed orange stains on your pink shirt and your hair was disheveled like it'd been pulled and of course he would think about someone who already had a family. How embarrassing.

But just like him, honestly.

"No big deal," he halfheartedly said.

You sighed. "Seriously, you were a lifesaver. After his dad skipped town three years ago, it's been so hard."

Wait. Kirishima gawked. "What?"

"Yeah," you deflated and stared at the ground. "My ex went crazy one day and said he wanted nothing to do with us. I'm happy my boy wasn't old enough to remember him or any of it, but jeez. He's five now but I don't even know how men shave. Like do you do just your face or is there other parts of the body? Or even attempting to explain puberty," you shuddered, "and who's going to teach him to tie a tie? And—I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about all my woes!"

Kirishima didn't know why he went home that night relieved that your ex had left. He also didn't know why he was imagining your kid over and over and he didn't know why he found himself standing in the frozen meat aisle just waiting for you to show up on the next Thursday.

And when you did, Kirishima held a bag of frozen chicken out for you and cleared his throat. "Do you want to go out sometime?"

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

I 10000000000% see Kirishima being the kind to fall in love with someone with a kid and 1000000000000% adopt the kid. He'd make the PERFECT adoptive dad. Totally the kind of man who'd say "no it's not your kid it's MY kid." 1000000000% ya'll

[idontlikeem]

i'd like to talk about grieving, a little bit. as in the past, discussions of death and cancer below the cut, don't read if this will hurt you, etc....i'm having a bad day and i just need to stream of consciousness for a little bit. sorry.

so my mom died. if you've read my personal posts before or whatever, you probably figured that out. it happened on thursday february 15th around noon. luckily we had a bit of notice that it was coming, so i was able to drive down the saturday prior and spend time with her—three full days where she was pretty much still herself, and part of a fourth.

it's been a really hard month. like, obviously. but i think a part of me still wasn't quite ready for it. i don't know how.

my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer in fall 2011. she had a mastectomy and went through chemo, and that was hard and scary, but it was i think technically considered stage one—a tumor that was definitely growing fast, but it hadn't spread out of the area, like not to her lymph nodes or anything, and with the treatment she went almost ten years totally symptom-free. right at the start of the pandemic, the cancer came back, but this time it was already stage four, and it was in her abdomen and uterus and intestines.

there was a time when we weren't sure she'd live more than a year. endometrial and other reproductive cancers aren't 'sexy' like breast cancer is, they're not widely studied and there aren't a lot of treatment options. when she had breast cancer i hated 'save the boobies' campaigns (and please never donate to susan komen), but now that my family has lived with another type of cancer that doesn't have tits as a draw, i hate them even more.

my mom made it four years, pretty much, since the first diagnosis. she did chemo, and radiation, and went on medication trials, and put her body through hell to try and fight it. she lived longer than i think any of us thought she would.

the problem with that is how long i've been existing in a state of grief.

i've had years to prepare for this. i've thought about it literally thousands of times—how i'd feel, how i'd tell people, what i'd do after. i pictured it, because i was trying to plan. i was trying to get myself ready.

turns out pre-grieving isn't real. turns out you can't get this pain out of the way by experiencing it in advance. much to my chagrin. i'm not sure there was a way to avoid it, though. so here i am, with four years of grief behind me, and not one second of it has made what's going on now any easier.

some days i forget. every time i'm on twitter or instagram, there are posts i want to send her, and then i don't know what to do with myself. for all that my relationship with her had its hard times, she was my mom, she was my best friend. i love her more than anything and i don't know what to do with myself now that she's gone.

i've been sort of just surviving for the last four weeks. my apartment is a mess, i'm barely leaving, i haven't been good at responding to people. so today i thought i'd at least clean up a little. i'd gone to target a day or two before i drove down to my parents', and i figured i would start with those bags, because they were just sitting there.

i'd forgotten that i bought valentine's day cards for my whole family that i wanted to send. one for each of my brothers, one for my dad, one for my mom. i never sent them, obviously, i didn't even bring them with me. i burst into tears when i pulled them out of the bag, and i've been crying pretty much all day since then. i'm never going to pick out a card for my mom ever again.

i also have a notes app file sitting on my phone. she wrote each of us letters, and my dad sent them out to us, but i haven't been able to open mine yet. it's the last new thing she'll ever say to me. how could i possibly be ready for that? how do i know when the right time to read that will be?

one thing my mom wanted was to die at home. she didn't want it to be in a hospital, and i get it. she spent a month in the hospital after christmas, and god knows how much time cumulatively over the last four years. the fact that she was able to push to get home is something i don't understand, because she was so sick—but she did it somehow. she was able to die in her bed.

and i was with her. like. i wasn't just at home, i was with her.

something they don't tell you about having someone die is you have to start arranging stuff before it actually happens. when we woke up on the 15th, we knew it was only a matter of time—her eyes weren't all the way open and her breath was labored, and she couldn't talk, although at first she still tried to say stuff. we sat there with her and kept her company and talked to her. hospice came by around 11 or 11:30, i don't even remember, and said that based on whatever measurements or readings they take (pupils? breathing? i don't know), it would be between 4-8 hours, and he recommended that my dad call the funeral home. because you have to do that first.

so my youngest brother was driving down from where he lives, my middle brother was in his room, my dad was in his room on the phone, and i stayed with her, because....well, of course, right? and i was just kind of talking, and crying, but trying not to...i don't know, beg her to stay? ask for more time? the nurse said she could still hear, they're pretty sure that hearing and understanding what's being said is the last thing to go, and i didn't want her to feel bad or guilty, or to hurt herself in an effort to stay longer even though there's nothing more that i've ever wanted in my life.

so i told her, you know, we'll be okay. it's going to be unbearably sad, and it's going to suck, but all the stuff we did as a family with her—we'll still do it. and we'll be okay. and there's nothing more important to us than her not hurting anymore, not being miserable and stuck and just...not herself. all that matters to us right now is her, and she didn't have to worry about us, because we'd be okay.

and she took in a breath. there was a pause. she took in another one. and she stopped. that was it.

i didn't even realize at first, not right the second it happened. the hospice booklet had talked about a 'death rattle', about how it happens almost all the time, but that it's more distressing for the people with the person dying than them, that they're not in pain. how the fuck would they know that, i'm not sure i believe it, but...it's what i was expecting. that didn't happen, though. she just stopped breathing.

the amount of guilt i felt for my dad being out of the room...i don't know if that will ever leave me. he said it was ok, because he was having to deal with stuff, and he'd spent a lot of time with her and it was fine, but jesus. how do i not feel like i stole that from him?

i've felt like a shell ever since. i'm back where i live, and i'm getting up and going to work and taking care of my dog and trying to stay connected to life, but...i don't know.

how is it that she's gone? how is this possible? how am i supposed to go the rest of my life without her?

i had four years to get ready for this, and i wasn't. i don't think there's any way i really could have been, but still. it doesn't seem fair that it was so hard for so long, and for NOTHING. nothing is easier now.

i'm sick of feeling sad, and hurt. i feel like i should be over it or something? i don't know, maybe just less actively affected? it's been a month. people's parents die all the time, right?

what am i supposed to do?

[promptprophet]

Guess who is not too excited to be asking for money? Me. But my truck broke down and the $500+ fix I had to put twords it didn't fix it. So now I'm sort of screwed financially because I still need to pay bills and put more down to fix my truck. I'm also stuck 5 hours away from my college because I was visiting my hometown for the week to celebrate my birthday.

I was paid Thursday and this "fix" wiped out my entire paycheck.

Update: Originally was going to be fine at the $600. However, the last thing they were doing was an oil change on her. When they cranked her up they found out the wires in the front tire are exposed. Badly. This tacks on an extra $375 for the tires, at the cheapest. Which as you can imagine, I still haven't been paid yet and this is getting more expensive. I'm still stuck 5hrs away from college. It's bad enough they are not letting me take that truck out of the lot - those tires would blow and the ensuing accident would make my hydroplaning three years ago look like a joke.

Here is my PayPal for those that prefer this to GoFundMe. But either will work.

Goal: $1,100/$1,000

Update: WE HIT THE GOAL PLUS SOME.

The last person sent $300 via PayPal, setting me over the 1k goal I had. Because it was PP, I should be able to fast transfer it and pay the last bit I need to get my truck back today. I'll take her for a test drive and if I'm lucky there should be nothing else wrong with her and I can drive back to college tomorrow morning.

They did the work on her, my mom authorized it - they finished yesterday. But I couldn't get it back until payment was given in full. They don't do payment plans or anything of that nature. Hopefully nothing else is wrong with it either.

Thank you everyone that has shared and donated to this - I don't know what I would have done without your generosity and help. It is so greatly appreciated and I don't know how to properly thank you, but I hope you understand how greatful I am.

[spicywhenspeaking]

If Im There: Chapter Five

read from part one

Noah x OFC Natalie

Warnings : none! Just family drama and Noah being the BEST BOYFRIEND!

Also! while Noah is based on a real person this is a work of fiction and I just made most of this up in my brain! Also I finished this with out my beta reader so it’s edited only by me! if you see a typo, no you didn’t.

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

“What are you doing here Dad?” I’m shocked to see him after all this time, it's been four years since he just left.

“Well Jelly, your mom called and told me about what's been going on and asked me to come and talk to you and your brother” he stands from the couch and moves closer to me at the front of the door.

“What exactly did mom tell you?” I ask, looking towards my mom who's staring at the floor.

“She told me that you and your brother have been fighting, that you didn't even spend the weekend here. You were with some boy? That doesn't sound like you at all Jelly Bean”

My mind races trying to decide what to address first.

“Kyle and I weren't fighting dad, he attacked me. Twice. Last time with his hands around my throat so tight I thought he was killing me. We’re siblings, yelling at each other should be normal, but him slapping me? him throwing me to the ground choking me out? That’s insane! And I wasn't spending the night with just some boy. Noah is my boyfriend, and he was there for me after Kyle attacked me, not that I feel the need to explain myself to you.” There is an unmasked anger in my voice.

“Why do you think you just get to show up after all this time and reprise your role? You left us, Dad, you have no right to stand here and question me.”

“Jelly-”

“And stop calling me that.” I bristle “It's Natalie, I'm not your little Jelly Bean anymore”

Kyle snickers under his breath and whispers “Yeah, I'm sure Noah made sure of that this weekend”

I balk at his crude remark. “You’re a pig, Kyle.” He is such an asshole.

“Noah didn't do anything to me this weekend aside from get me the hell away from you”

“This isn't about this Noah boy” my dad speaks up. “This is about the two of you getting along”

“I don't understand how I'm getting lumped into this.” I feel like I'm losing my mind.

“I'm in trouble because Kyle hit me? Choked me?”

“You're not in trouble sweetie” my mom finally says something “I called your dad because I thought he could help your brother.”

“How are you planning on helping him?”

They tell me that they've decided since there's only a few weeks left of the school Kyle will take his finals early and leave with our dad to work with him at his construction company for the summer. Dad hopes the physical labor will help with his aggression, and give him an outlet for his anger or something.

“You both turn 18 in a few weeks so it's good timing. He'll be 18 once his training is finished so it's all legit.” My dad reasons but mostly with himself because I genuinely don't care, seems like our parents are doing what they do best and sweeping things under the rug. Dad gets cheap labor for his job site and mom will go back on the night shift and pretend I don't need a mom.

“So when are you leaving?” I ask.

“We need a few days to work everything out with the school, but we plan to leave Thursday morning,” Dad informs me.

“What do you think about all of this?” I finally addressed Kyle.

He pauses and thinks for a minute. “ I’m fine with it, I feel like I have no control over my emotions. It's like one second I'm fine and the next I don't know what happened and I'm holding my sister to the ground. I feel sick about it.” he looks like my brother again. “I’ll go with Dad and work and I'll do the therapy once a week while I'm there.” He's looking at me and noticing the fading marks on my neck from last week. “It kills me that I hurt you sissy, I don't want to be this person.”

We sit in the living room and chat awkwardly for a few more minutes before I excuse myself.

“I really should go study for my finals.” I stand up and tell them. My dad approaches to hug me, I freeze but my hands return to wrap around him. “Okay, sweetie. I love you” he tells me and I turn to head up the stairs towards my room.

Seeing my dad for the first time in so long is shocking, but, if I'm honest with myself I'm almost numb to all the shit with my family lately. I just don't have enough space in me anymore for any of this.

Once I'm upstairs in my room I immediately text Noah everything.

Noah: what? the. fuck. 5:30

Noah: are you okay? that's a lot to happen on top of everything else. 5:30

Natalie: honestly. I don't know what to feel. 5:32

Natalie: he just shows up after all of this time, and we just become a happy family again? One family meeting and all is forgiven? And he's just taking Kyle? I guess it's probably best for both of us to be away from each other it's just…I don't know. 5:32

Natalie: He drops everything to come to take Kyle away, doesn't even mention the attacks. What is that? Ugh so fucking frustrating. 5:32

Natalie: Trying to think of pros…a summer with no Kyle, a birthday I don't have to share with Kyle, you could actually hang out at my house if he's not here. 5:33

Natalie: maybe it's not all bad. 5:34

Natalie: okay. Wow. I even ramble in text. 5:34

Noah: I think it's cute when you ramble, even in text. 5:36

Noah: I'm so sorry you're dealing with all of this Natty, I can't imagine what it feels like to have your dad just show back up again. Do you need anything? 5:37

Noah: Also, when's your birthday? Honestly pissed at myself for not already having this precious information filed away. 5:37

Natalie: thank you, Noah, I'm okay, I just want to study and blast music in my ears until all I can think about is world history and all the bones in the human body. And then I have to finish my art final project. 5:38

Natalie: my birthday is May 20! Taurus :) 5:39

Noah: ugh I love it when you talk nerdy. 5:41

Noah: OMG! That's so soon! Okay. Filed away and saved foreverrr, keep the day free because we are going out. 5:43

Natalie: deal ;D now I should really study, these finals are going to suuuuck. 5:45

Noah: Okay smarty, good luck studying, I'm trying to perfect this chord progression and then I will have created the best song ever XD. 5:47

Natalie: can't wait to hear it! <3 5:47

I place my phone on the charger and hit play on my CD player and the CD Noah got me started playing at a medium volume, filling my room with the sound of “The Comedown” by Bring Me The Horizon.

Thursday is here before I blink and just like that Kyle is packing and leaving with my dad. He awkwardly hugs me before leaving, which I halfway return. My mom goes back to the night shift the next day.

Noah and I hung out again that weekend. I'm mostly studying and he's writing music but it's perfect. I finally finished my art project, a painted portrait of a young brown-haired girl on her knees crying softly on the floor of a broken home. “Wow, Natty. This is amazing, it's so emotional” Noah says as he examines the artwork “You are so talented” he whispers to me.

We hang out from Saturday morning until almost midnight when he begrudgingly leaves but not after kissing me senseless on my bed. Waiting becomes less important when I feel his hands softly caressing my body, the way he squeezes my sides and holds me closer if a quiet mewl escapes my mouth. Soon, definitely, soon, I think to myself.

We spend the rest of the school year like that, hanging out at my house or Noah's, usually with Nick. They’ll write songs, I'll study or Nick and I will spend hours drawing weird things we make up. Life feels perfect for this time. I have an amazing boyfriend and friends.

Finals begin and end quickly, I pass with high marks and Noah celebrates my grades by gifting me a new Bring Me The Horizon shirt. “To add to the band shirt collection”

The day after school's out for summer I wake up to my phone buzzing, reaching over I answer it half asleep.

“Hello?” I mumble.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Nattyyy, happy birthday to you!” Noah's voice blares through my speakers and forces me further awake but with a large smile breaking across my face. “How's my girl feeling? Like an adult? Do you feel the sudden need to vote for something? Or permanently alter your skin?” Noah rapid fire questions at me, I’ve not known him to be a morning person but he's full of energy today.

I laugh softly, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Thank you Noah, beautiful rendition.” I laugh.

“Hmmmm…no sudden urge to vote but I might not be totally adverse to a small something tattooed, gotta try to keep up with my boyfriend, he's got a few already.” A few is maybe an understatement, when Noah’s been getting tattoos since he was like 16, apparently in his music scene a lot of guys are also tattoo artists so it was pretty easy for him to get them.

“Sounds like your boyfriend is pretty cool” He jokes.

“Oh he's the coolest, really hot too” I responded.

“Wow, you know i've got a pretty hot girlfriend, hopefully they don't run into each other, he sounds exactly like her type.” he laughs. “You know, I'm actually hoping she gets ready soon so I can go pick her up and take her to a birthday breakfast and keep her to myself all day. Do you think she'd be interested in something like that?” he asks me with a cheeky tone and I melt.

“I think she'd love that” My whole life at home can crumble around me, I don't care. I have Noah and that is enough. “I can be ready in 20 minutes” I say with a grin so wide it might split my face in two.

I start getting ready and I get a text from Nick.

Nick: Happy Birthday!

Image: It's a drawing of a lady knight warrior holding the hilt of a sword that is sticking out of the head of a massive red dragon. Its captioned “Lady Natalia Flameheart: the Dragon Slayer” 8:35

Natalie: WOW! Nick!!! This is AMAZING! Thank you so much :) I’m definitely printing this out. 8:36

I finished getting ready, throwing on some jean shorts and the BMTH shirt Noah gave me, leaving my hair down and going without makeup when I heard a knock at my door. I rush downstairs and open the door, immediately being engulfed in a big bare hug, Noah wraps his arms around me tight and spins us around.

“Happy Birthday Natty girl” he says smiling widely as he places me down and bends to give me a kiss. I pull him closer, deepening the kiss until he pulls away and rests his head against mine. “Wow, im happy to see you too baby” I laugh softly and reach to hug him tightly again.

Noah takes me to a diner for breakfast and tells the waiter it's my birthday so they add sprinkles and a candle to my stack of pancakes. He sings happy birthday again before I blow out my candle. I think this is the first birthday I’ve ever celebrated where I don’t have to share candles with Kyle, I kind of liked it. I loved being a twin for so much of my life but for the last few years Kyle and I just became so drastically different. I pull out my phone and decide to text him just a simple message.

Natalie: happy birthday Kyle. 9:30

Kyle: happy birthday sissy. 9:45

After breakfast Noah takes me to the sculpture garden downtown. We walked around for a few hours, spending half the time admiring the art and the other half making out in every tucked away corner we could find. Our next stop is the deli across the street from the coffee shop we had our first date at, we order sandwiches and grab chips and drinks but Noah mentions to the cashier that it's all to go.

“To go?” I question.

He just raises his eyebrows up and down and plasters a shiteating grin on his face.

With our lunch in hand we head back to the car and Noah drives us to the park and we walk to the bench where we shared our first kiss. “I thought this would be a nice spot for lunch” he confesses innocently.

“Noah Sebastian Davis, you are something else you know?” I say as I take the seat next to him on the bench, sitting as close to him as possible. He's not just something else, I think to myself, he's everything and I think I'm in love with him. Nope, I'm definitely in love with him. Before digging into lunch I lean towards him and kiss him tenderly, trying to push all of my appreciation and affection for all he's done for me today.

“Thank you for today, you made it really special” I say against his lips.

“You’re very welcome Natty, I’m just glad I got to spend the day celebrating my favorite person.” he says back returning a quick peck before we dig into our late lunch.We sit for a while longer before Noah drives me back home

“My mom is working late tonight, we already celebrated last night so..” I paused.

“Would you want to come in and watch a movie or something?” Noah nods and heads out of his car. We head up to my room and I bring out my laptop, placing it at the foot of the bed and opening netflix. I find a random action movie and hit play. I honestly have no interest in watching a movie, only getting Noah in my bed. Sitting with his arm around me I give little attention to the computer screen in front of me, instead I turn to nuzzle into Noah's neck and leave small kisses along the columns of his throat.

“You’re the one that chose this movie Natty, you're not even watching” he chuckles.

“Are you complaining?” I ask as I lick a small stripe up to nibble on his ear and I hear his breath catch.

“No, no complaints from me” he says, voice tightening.

He rotates his head to capture my mouth in a searing kiss, quickly adding tongue and moving his hands down to grip my waist. Movie forgotten we glide down the bed in a close embrace, my hands are tangled in his hair as he strokes up and down my sides. I pull away for a second, long enough to rip my shirt off quickly.

“Natalie, what are you-” he starts as his eyes drag down to my chest.

“Noah, I'm ready. Please” I whine.”Touch me”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Next chapter here!

YESSS NEXT PART NATTY’S V CARD IS GETTING DESTROYED MUAHAHAHA

thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and enjoying the story!!! xoxoxoxo

Taglist: @lma1986 @notingridslurkaccount

[landojpg04]

Revenge on the Ranch//G.Tillman

Index

This is gonna be a multi-part series. It's gonna follow the story of Rumor Abbott as she progresses further into her career as an agent for the FBI and what she plans on when coming across blackmail. She is a long-time girlfriend of Gator Tillman and would do about anything to protect their love.

This story may have some dark themes, but I promise to detail all of the warnings. As mentioned previously, I am creating my own plotline but incorporating some themes from Fargo and Outer Range. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Warnings for this part: Language (few cuss words), Mentions of R*y Tillman.

Two weeks earlier

“What do you mean, they canceled the competition?” 

“Im telling you, they didn’t have enough cmpetitiors so now I’m done a month early.” Rhett was my older brother. He rode bulls professionally, and during the off season helped ur father and eldest brother Robert at the ranch. 

Rhett and I were closer in age making us closer in our relationship. He was the one to ship me away from the butt fucks of nowhere. Said my talent was a waste in the city we grew up in. Because of him I got into Quantico and began to pursue my dream.

“Well shit, what are you gonna do now?”

“Mom found out and entered my name into the homecoming competition. Said it’s an easy win. So guess I'm going back.”

Mom always did sneaky things to get us back home. Said shes done with Dad and Robert antics. This was a classic move by Reese herself. 

“Hows training going? You almost done?”

“I got a few months to go but its going good. I got to work this team this past week. Was able to locate and gather more intel for them.”

“Thats what I like to hear.”

I hummed to his response. I was sitting on the balcony of my apartment. The city was loud, in many ways than once. People yelling, sirens from every cancer with my head constantly going round in circles with thoughts.

“So you able to come up with me?”

“There it is.”

“Look you know Mom signed me up for a reason, she knows us.”

Mom did know us. I haven’t seen Rhett since last Christmas or have been able to get away to see him ride.

“I don’t know Rhett.”

“Come one, please. Do this for your favorite brother”

I laugh at his opinion.

“You think youre my favorite?”

“I definitely am.”

“That's presumptuous.”

“Well then, don’t go up for me–go up to see lover boy.”

I went silent thinking about that. Gator and I haven't seen each other since New Year. My schedule is the opposite of his. We talk every day still; we just haven't seen each other.

“What day are you gonna go up?”

“Probably Thursday. Friday is the competition.”

“Thursday, I have work till noon. But if you can't pick me up, no worries, I’ll drive up.”

“Sounds good. I'll see you later, Rue.”

“Bye, Rhett.” I hung up the phone. Immediately looking down at my lock screen. A picture of Gator and I last summer. I needed to go home, even for just a few days.

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I finished work around 1250. Today, I was on the desk for a gruesome case. I was able to find some information, but they weren’t able to raid till it was signed off by a judge. 

I began my walk from the office to my apartment. 

On the way there, I wanted to grab a pick-me-up drink, stopping by my local coffee shop.

I walked in, and there were two people in front of me. I took this time to text Gator,

How’s it going?

I send and within seconds I see the three dots.

Dad scheduled me to be out on the field. It’s like he know’s

You're gonna be back soon.

I’m counting down the hours 

I smiled at the last text. I look up and notice it was my turn to order.

“Hey Rumor, your usual?” I nodded and smiled. I began to pay when I heard the barista talk to me again. “You know, Rumor, there's a band playing at the Klatch this weekend; I have an in and was wondering if you’d be willing to go with me.”

The barista’s name was Vincent. He’s been working here since I moved. He went to college but dropped out, exclaiming he wasn’t gonna spend his life working away. 

“Sorry Vince, I’m actually planning on going back home this weekend.”

“Yeah, to see that fake boyfriend of yours.”

I just pressed my lips into a thin line. Despite Vincent knowing about Gator, he has always given me shit about him. Saying it would just be better if I said I wasn’t interested in him rather than creating a fake boyfriend.

Rather than responding, I just grabbed my drink, gave a small smile, and walked out.

Yeah, it's definitely time to go back home.

And like an angel from heaven as I turn the corner to reach my apartment. There he was sticking out like a sore thumb. Dressed like a cowboy. Hat, boots, and one of his sponsors jacket on.

“Rhett!” I scream overwhelmed with emotions.

He was standing in front of my building. I run towards him, he engulfs me in a hug.

“Holy shit Rue. I have never seen you run that fast.”

“What, I can't miss my favorite brother?” I say.

“That is exactly what I like to hear.”

I laugh.

“Okay, let me shower, pack my bags, and then we can hit the road.”

Rhett nodded.

“Thank god I have time for a nap.”

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Arriving at home was bittersweet. The ranch looks the same. But those who occupy it look older. Dad has a few more gray scattering his beard and Momma is aging like fine wine. Both of them cried when we got out of the car.

If it was up to them they would have us at the ranch year long, but they are the type of parents who don’t hold their kids back from their dreams. And for that, I am thankful.

“Honey, you haven't been eating,” Momma exclaimed. I roll my eyes at her.

“Mom I eat just fine.”

“Rob, go get your sister’s stuff! Rhett needs to rest up.”

“You owe me so many drinks tomorrow.” Robort says hugging me once more.

I laugh at thow we have resumed the hustle and bustle of the house like it once was all those years ago. 

Rylee was now walking and had long hair pulled into braids. I got up to swoop her, having her grow into a fit of giggles.

“Aunty Ru-Ru!” She says while giggling. 

I see Jane and rush to give her a hug. Jane was always the older sister I never had. 

“Hell Rumor look at you!” She said taking me in. “Crime stopping does wonder for you.” I laugh at her comment. Jane and Robert were high school sweethearts. Jane was always around, she got me ready for my first date and did my makeup for all the special occasions. I set Rylee down and pulled Jane into another hug “Miss you sis.” I said.

“Don’t go soft on us killer.”

I look down to see her belly growing.

“Son of a bitch.” I say under my breath.

“Hey don't talk like that about your nephew.”

“Rumor, come eat!” Jane laughed hearing Momma call me. I walked over and sat down. Content with the peacefulness around me.

After dinner and the catching up conversations with the family, Momma sent us all to bed because of the competition tomorrow. Exclaiming we all needed to be on our best behavior, as it was the first time since graduation we would all be together. I laid in bed and reached that call button. I heard it ring a few times before I heard him.

“How is my girl doing back?”

“Momma made me eat two servings of food and made us all go to bed. So currently a little happy."

“Sounds like Reese.”

“Where you at?”

“An hour or so up north. Roy sent me up due to a call about some missing cattle. I’m just sitting here till six and then heading back.”

“He hates me.”

“That I can not dispute. He is even making sure that I go to the station before the competition tomorrow to ensure my papers are up to date.”

“I hate him”

I heard Gator snicker.

“You’ll see me before your brother is up to ride, I promise.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m pretty sure I miss you more.”

I took a deep breath, and Gator did the same.

“Not to be a pest but why didn’t you text me back earlier?”

“Some asshole I was dealing with tampered my mood.

Then Rhett was already at my apartment.”

I heard him hum.

“Anyone I need to deal with?”

“Not yet. But you can deal with your father for me.”

He laughs.

“Call me if you can't sleep. Ill be up, but get some rest.”

“I will. See you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow, love you.”

“Love you.”

[1d1195]

Neighbors III

Sorry for the delay, thank you for waiting. Read Part I and Part II

Harry wondered if he kept the defeat off his face as she brushed him off. “Oh, sure, kitten. Sorry, t’bother you—”

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I have to go help Rory with his shoes, see you later, Harry,” she rushed and turned for the kitchen. All Harry wanted was to spend time soaking in everything she was: pure sunlight and kindness.

But when Harry doesn’t watch Rory that following Thursday, he wondered where it all went wrong.

Somehow Rory’s questions set her off. Everything was fine. No not fine, practically perfect—if only they were together. If there had even been an inkling of an idea that they could date. That there could be more than friendship and neighbors. So, she did what she knew best: she protected Rory.

And herself.

There was only a single road between their home and Harry’s house. But it felt like an entire universe stretched from doorstep to doorstep. After being so intertwined since the moment he moved in, to not see Harry nearly killed her. Everything made her want to see him. She wanted to tell him about her day and ask him about his. When she went to the grocery store, she wanted to see if he needed anything, but she couldn’t bring herself to carry on the shreds of hope that they would be something.

Rory was wondering about their relationship which meant she let it get too far.

It took Harry five whole days to realize he was being ignored. He didn’t notice at first because the two neighbors were busy the first few days. Rory still waved from the driveway, and she offered a smile as he did. But Harry was too far away to realize it wasn’t reaching her eyes.

Even that first Thursday he didn’t think much of it. Her text made sense and was inconspicuous. Harry didn’t feel suspicious about anything.

You don’t need to watch Rory today. My mom’s having a sleepover for him. Read his phone. Harry smiled because that sounded like fun for the little one.

That’s nice, beautiful. Sounds good. See you tomorrow xx Have a good shift

When Harry finished working on that Friday evening and saw that her car wasn’t in the driveway he frowned at the prospect of no pizza. But more importantly, no company. Still, he didn’t think of anything about it because it was weird that she didn’t mention not being around for pizza, but she didn’t have to tell Harry about it.

So it wasn’t until Saturday that Harry realized he was being ignored. Saturday when the two of them didn’t leave their house. Everything okay? He sent her a message.

We’re fine. Having a lazy day.

Enjoy :) xx

It made him uneasy before he realized why. The twist in his stomach twinged but he figured it was just because he was hungry or something. It took until he was about to fall asleep for him to notice his anxiety over not being around them for the whole week.

Certainly, he would address it tomorrow.

She wasn’t sure what the full plan was. Surely she couldn’t keep busy for the rest of her life. Barring moving, she needed to figure out a way to ignore Harry without being obvious. For the first five days, it went okay. There was very little time to see Harry and the little traditions they had built up over the last two years were suddenly gone. It broke her heart.

There was a knock on her door. She bit her lip knowing exactly who it was. “Is that Harry?” Rory asked excitedly.

She wasn’t looking at Rory when he asked. She closed her eyes, hand on the doorknob and swallowed all the worry and fear in her body down. “Put your shoes on baby, let’s go to the bookstore,” she said.

Rory liked the bookstore so he didn’t question it. It was random, but he didn’t mind. Hurriedly he ran to his room to get his shoes.

“Hi,” she said gently.

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled so sweetly it melted her veins. Every organ turned to soup at the two words directed to her. “Brought some pops over,” he said holding a box of popsicles in his hand.

She smiled gratefully, and now Harry was up close. He could see how it didn’t touch the beautiful eyes he adored staring in since he met her. “Thank you,” she said simply. “We’re just about to head out though, can I throw them in the freezer?” She wondered. Harry placed the box in her hands and could feel the frown forming on his lips.

Harry wondered if he kept the defeat off his face as she brushed him off. “Oh, sure, kitten. Sorry, t’bother you—”

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I have to go help Rory with his shoes, see you later, Harry,” she rushed and turned for the kitchen. Harry showed himself out and he blinked in surprise at the abruptness of the situation. Surely, he was imagining her off-putting demeanor. She was an angel. All Harry wanted was to spend time soaking in everything she was: pure sunlight and kindness.

But when Harry doesn’t watch Rory that following Thursday, he wondered where it all went wrong.

*

The hardest thing she ever did was tell her baby daddy that she was pregnant. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She hadn’t even graduated from college at the time and was anxiously applying for real jobs and studying for finals when she realized it had been too long since she remembered buying a box of tampons. She thought about how scared she was (and how in hindsight she had every right to be scared).

But she had been with Rory’s dad for two years and while the timing was piss-poor she was certain they would work and figure it out just as they always promised. Again, in hindsight, knowing how cute Rory was, it was a blessing he was around...even if he backed out of his promise.

With her positive test in her coat pocket and a hand on her stomach briefly, she knocked on his apartment door. He answered with a giant smile, a toe-curling kiss, and a hello so sweet the anxiety dissipated almost instantly. They would be fine—they couldn’t be anything but fine.

They had dinner that he cooked, a simple pasta dish and they laughed and smiled. When they moved to his living room and put on a show they had both seen several times she fidgeted with the ends of her shirt sleeves so much he asked her if everything was alright.

In that moment it was now or never.

“Um...” she said. “I...missed my period,” she said and pulled the test from her coat pocket. He blinked before looking at the test and then at her.

“What?” He asked incredulously. “Are you pregnant?”

She nodded and the nerves started to creep up from her stomach and into her fingertips as they numbly held the test in her hand. She could sense something was wrong. It wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for and she didn’t know what to make of it. “Yes,” she whispered.

There was a beat of silence of him staring at the stick with the plus sign on it. He snorted and shook his head. “I don’t want a baby,” he told her and looked at her eyes finally.

She wondered if her face paled in that moment because truly, she never felt so sick in her entire life and Rory gave her a bad case of nausea in her second trimester and this was easily ten times worse. “Well...uh...I don’t really have a choice,” she said. “And... I want this baby.”

He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her. They sat there in silence again for several moments. “Then you don’t want us,” he said simply and stood from the couch and headed to his bedroom.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed. This was not what she wanted. This would be much worse on her own. Much, much worse. She spiraled into all the what-could-go-wrongs. How badly she could mess up a child that didn’t have a father figure. The cost, the job she would need, the loneliness that crept into her body.

All of it hit her as she sat on that couch. After she realized he wouldn’t be coming back out, she stood up, took the last of her dignity and the positive test, and left the apartment. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging. She was determined in that moment to do anything and everything for the little being growing inside of her at that second.

But she cried the entire way to her sister’s house to break all the news she had gotten in such a short span of time.

*

The second hardest thing she ever had to do was ignore Harry for weeks on end.

*

Harry was settling into the fact that he would never see her or Rory in the capacity he was used to ever again. He was saddened by the fact and wished with everything in him it would just go back to normal.

Fortunately, he lucked out on one small minor missed detail on a Monday afternoon where there was no daycare (once a month she took a week day off just to have Rory to herself). As he was about to get in his car as quickly as possible—so he wouldn’t find himself walking across the street to inquire what the problem was—Rory came pedaling over on his bike, furiously. He looked both ways but only barely. “Hey Rory!” Harry smiled brightly. “Don’t forget to look both ways, lad,” he reminded him.

He ignored it already making his way up Harry’s drive. He thrusted an envelope (it was junk mail) into Harry’s hands. “Mumma had me get the mail and I know how to read your name so I brought this to you,” he said quickly. “Can you come to my game? Mumma has to work so she can’t come,” he said. “So, you won’t see her. My friend is going to drive me,” he told Harry.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew Rory wasn’t supposed to ask him. This was obviously a secret. Harry shouldn’t have allowed Rory to keep a secret from his mum. But he couldn’t deny this little one what he wanted. Harry also hated the way Rory said Harry wouldn’t see her. He knew something was wrong just like Harry did. It made Harry feel so sad inside. He couldn’t imagine skipping his invite.

Plus, Harry really missed being in Rory’s life. “I’d like that, Rory. When is it? At the park?” He asked. Surely there would be no harm in Harry going to the game if she wasn’t going to be there. She wouldn’t be any the wiser. Maybe Harry was running in the park and Rory just happened to be playing.

Rory nodded. “On Thursday night,” he told Harry. “I...I miss playing with you,” he admitted looking at him briefly before he turned his bike around to head down the driveway.

Harry smiled sadly. “Same here, lad.”

“Bye, Harry,” he said softly and waved at him so softly and fleetingly, it broke Harry’s heart all over again.

“Bye, Rory.”

*

Harry stood in the middle of the field watching Rory run in a jersey that is much too big for him up and down the field. There wasn’t anything Harry could compare to a game of little five-year-old boys playing football. There wasn’t much fancy footwork, not a lot of spreading out and it was overall a big clinic for the kids. But Harry was happy to watch and cheer on Rory each time his foot touched the ball.

The only issue Harry had with coming was the women watching their children spend most of the time watching and fawning over Harry. He ignored the whispers that were clearly focused on Rory, his mother, and the ‘very cute guy that was here for Rory.’

Harry was clapping for Rory when he kicked the ball hard and it accidentally bumped into one of his teammates—making it look like Rory had passed it...even if it was an accident.

“Nice pass!” Harry called. Rory smiled delightedly and one of his friends whispered something to him and Rory shrugged back. Harry wished he could ask Rory about it but he planned on waving from a distance and leaving before making too much of a scene at the end of Rory’s scrimmage.

At the same time, she was rushing out of her car in the parking lot having taken her break early on to catch a glimpse of Rory playing his little heart out. It took a lot to do it all, but she would do anything for that sweet boy.

“Rory said he is his neighbor. I wonder if she’s sleeping with him.”

No.

“I’d sleep with him.”

“You’re terrible.”

She ignored the voices that didn’t realize she was coming onto the field at that moment.

“Harry.”

Harry could have picked her voice out of a crowd of ten thousand voices. The sound of his name on her lips was like a song. He turned to her, an apron still around her waist, her hair pulled back and she still looked stunning as ever.

“Hey beautiful, long time no see. Rory invited me here,” he said quickly. He was caught. No way around it. He had to own it.

She stared at him, and Harry swore he saw a flash of anger. Maybe it was bitterness. Harry had never seen her features sour like that before. Perhaps it was a betrayal knowing Rory was around him without her knowing and that Harry listened to him.

“Mumma!” He cheered at seeing her. Her frustration disappeared instantly.

“Hey cutie pie,” she smiled sweetly and ruffled his hair. “You winning?” She asked.

He nodded. By Harry’s estimates it was tied at least 8 to 8 goals, half of which were scored in the wrong net, but they were having lots of fun. “Mumma, can I have another sweatshirt, it’s cold!” He said.

Without thinking she took the sweatshirt off her body and wrapped it around him, zipping the front and rolling the sleeves so he would be warm. “M’gonna have to go back to work, baby, but I love you and I’m so proud of you,” she said genuinely kissing him on the forehead. “I’ll see you at grandma’s tonight, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, bye Mumma,” he smiled excitedly. “Bye Harry,” he said quietly glancing at him out of the corner of his eye before heading back to his team.

“Bye, lad.”

They both stood there silently listening to the little ones cheer and kick and yell happily while running back and forth across the little field. Still, their shared silence was louder than all of it. In his peripheral, he saw her shivering, her arms wrapped around her torso tightly squeezing her arms close for warmth.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“M’only staying another minute or so,” she said staring ahead. “I’m fine.”

Of course, she was. But Harry couldn’t accept it in good conscience. Even if she was only staying another minute. His coat was off in an instant and he wrapped it around her shoulders rubbing one of her arms for some added friction.

“This is unnecessary,” she murmured.

“Kitten,” he said softly. “Is...is something wrong? Are you actually avoiding me?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I have to leave Harry, just let me enjoy my son’s game,” she muttered quietly not wanting to add fuel to the gossip train.

Harry felt an uneasiness in his stomach that hurt so much. He was silent. When she went to leave she started to shrug off Harry’s jacket. “Keep it,” he mumbled. “I’ll grab it another time.”

“Thank you,” she said kindly. “Thank you for coming to see him.”

“Of course, beautiful,” he said quietly. Still avoiding eye contact and focusing on the little ones running their hearts out.

She was gone again.

*

Harry was waiting at the window to see her pull into the drive. She watched her pull the sleeping boy out of the backseat and she carried him into the house. Harry waited ten minutes before he headed across the street and knocked.

After a moment she pulled the door out of the way. Harry gazed at her with his eyebrows raised inquisitively. She had to start. Surely the change in their lives, so abruptly and suddenly, was also at the forefront of her mind. “I was going to bring your jacket back in the morning—”

“You can keep it,” he said shaking his head. It wasn’t the reason he came over. She had to have known that. “Kitten, what’s going on?” He asked. His heart was breaking. “I...I miss you both,” he started. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

She couldn’t look at him. If she looked at him all the resolve would crumble. She couldn’t stay away from him. He was so good. The best thing that has happened to her since Rory. “Harry,” she began.

She had already broken Rory’s heart about not seeing Harry, and her own. All that was left was to tell Harry. “Did I do something?” Harry asked and put his hand on the back of his head, scratching at his hair absentmindedly. “I’ll fix it...I’m...m’really lost without you both, love,” he murmured. “Miss you both a lot,” he said. “You didn’t give any warning and...” he shook his head. “All of a sudden...jus’...nothing.”

She stared at her feet. She had hard conversations before. Harry deserved eye contact and he most certainly didn’t deserve this. But she couldn’t look at him. Harry was too lovely, too beautiful, and she would feel so much anguish if she saw the pain on his face that was evident in his voice. The idea he did anything subpar or less than perfect or anything "wrong" made her heart truly break. Especially knowing she was the cause of it.

“You didn’t do anything,” she shook her head.

“I don’t understand,” Harry frowned. “Kitten—”

“Harry,” she sighed and put her fingers on her temples. She felt a headache forming. This was going to hurt so much. “I can’t...I let Rory get too attached.”

He frowned. “So what? I don’t plan on going anywhere,” he said simply. Surely this could be remedied.

She couldn’t very well say she was getting too attached so she dug a deeper hole. “Harry...Harry it’s too much,” she said quietly. “You with Rory...you’re so good with him and I’m...I’m too much.”

Harry didn’t understand what that meant. “Love you’re not—”

“No,” she shook her head interrupting him. “Harry, I can’t...I can’t be...I can’t have Rory getting attached to someone I’m not...” she trailed off and for a moment she felt so utterly embarrassed it made her want to fall through the threshold of the doorway. It was cold outside and she should have invited Harry in—he didn’t even have a coat after all.

But he was flooded with anger and sadness that it kept him warm enough. “You’re not what?” His voice sounded agitated. She had never heard him agitated before—especially not at her.

Swallowing what appeared to be a rock in her throat, she kept her eyes at her feet. “I don’t regret one second of being Rory’s mom but I didn’t have a choice. You do. It was too much for his dad and I don’t want you to feel obligated to be something you’re not or something you don’t want to be,” she started. “I’m sorry,” she said and before Harry could process anything she said, the door was closing in his face.

Harry was cold.

And alone on her porch.

It was several moments before he walked back across the street and sat in his living room. He gazed out the window looking at the quiet little house with the people he adored so much with no way of seeing in or worming his way back in.

Harry doesn’t remember falling asleep on the couch hoping that he imagined their conversation. But when he woke up with a kink in his neck, he knew it wasn’t a nightmare.

Well, it was. But it was also reality.

*

Over the coming weeks of separation, Rory periodically waved from the driveway when he spotted Harry leaving his home.

When on his run, Harry tossed a ball from the middle of the street back into the yard. She mumbled a quiet thank you in response and Harry went to his house without engaging any further.

Rory delivered incorrectly sorted mail back to his porch saying hi and bye as quickly as possible.

Harry mowed her lawn while they weren’t home.

He didn’t babysit anymore.

Rory didn’t have pizza and s’mores with Harry.

When Rory went to bed, the dreaded loneliness that she only felt the one time she sat on a couch in apartment of a man who didn’t want her crept through her body and made its way to her bones and through her soul.

Harry was there to make her feel anything but alone...but she couldn’t bring herself to let him in completely.

She wondered if Harry looked at her house ever wondering what was happening inside the way she did with him. She wondered if Harry would ever forgive her if she could ever figure out what to do.

Harry stared across the street at the same time and wondered if he could ever get over her even if he wasn't with her from the start.

--

@reveriehs

[angelflungoutofspace]

abbott elementary season 3 ep 1 & 2 REVEIWWWWW

idk why but I thought y'all might wanna hear what I thought about the season premierrrrrr!!!! it was so good and so chaotic. so many things going on at once.

when Janine walked out and revealed as district, I HAD A HEART ATTACK. but then the context helped. im just a little confused because didn't the Manny the district guy say Janine could go back into her class 1-2 days out of the week to teach?? or was it just to go around about hearing feedback?? it was so sad to see Janine's kids not caring about her presence and the super mean substitute. But, that one little boy, Alex, made my heart just warm!!!! It just reminded Janine why she's doing what she's doing!!!

omg and Janine and Gregory?? the way Janine HAD THE CONFIDENCE to go talk to Gregory about her feelings at the beginning of the school year??? like where did that bravery come out of, and she handled the rejection so well. like honey. I would have DIED. but also.... the way Gregory just... moved on???? well, I get why. bro has to protect himself, but like come on greggy boy, don't tell me YOU DONT just feel a little of love for Janine???? but I love the way writers handled it at the end. they didn't leave the awkwardness for the season and that is something I APPRECIATE. and at least we know that Gregory and Janine still want to be friends and still miss each other platonically.

am I being paranoid for being scared of Manny the district guy???? Like my boy Jacob had a point. Manny WAS giving me some crush vibes and it doesn't help how nice and genuine he is. LIKE IM LITERALLY FALLING FOR HIM. and his mom was a teacher??? I would love to see him more, but just not as another pawn in Janine and Gregory's relationship. but, I knowwwww better. and my girl QUINTAAAA will make us wait.

I think Janine is getting really confortable and friendly with the district crew and it's kind of scary me because if she gets TOO comfortable, she won't want to leave. I think when the fellowship ends, they'll offer her a permanent spot on the team and she'll want to take it but still teach at abbott.

Barbara was so cute this episode, with her makeup. and with how honest she was to the district. as some who works at a high school and has been dealing with a particularly horrible district and administration, Barbaras words hit too close to home. but she realized that the whole district team is essentially just 4 Janines with the power and position to make things happen. and I think she's really opening up to relying on the district more.

omg my girl Melissa. honey., I was so scared every time Gary made a marriage joke. and when he proposed I HAD A HEART ATTACK AND FOR A SPLIT SECOND I THOUGHT MELISSA WAS GONNA SAY YES and the rest of the season would be wedding planning. but as embarrassing and heartbreaking as it was for Melissa, she stayed true to herself and was mature to end the relationship. and my girl just crying made me cryyyyy omg. she looks so sad even though she was the one to break up with Gary, AND I KNOWWWWWW SHE'LL STILL BE HEALING. I don't think this is the last well see of Gary since he goes to the school every Thursday, but I think it'll be the end of their relationship permanently. but now that Melissa knows fs was wants to date and knows she doesn't wanna get married, I think she's gonna be in her exploration phase. HOEEEEE PHASSEEEE. god please send Melissa a gay awakening PLEASEEEEE. she needs a rebound and no better rebound than a woman. that would be so fun and so true to her.

but yeah thats all I think so far. and it was a great epsidose and a great start to an already unpredictable season!!!

[liesyousoldme]

like you've known me | rated T | word count ~25k

a @steddiebang fic coming february 29

featuring art by sharkscouts and @vesperalhemlock

Summary:

When the only way to beat the Upside Down is to erase it (and the last three years) from time, Steve Harrington is transported right back to the Fall of his junior year. His biggest problem? Everyone who had died in the last three years fighting inter-dimensional evils has no memory of the events. Suddenly, Steve finds himself with Tommy and Carol at his side and sitting mere feet away from Robin in class, and she has no idea who he is except the douchebag with the good hair that Tammy Thompson has a crush on.

With a little help from Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and El, Steve will learn to navigate his life, The Right Way, this time. Which friends he wants to keep, who he wants to spend his time with, and if he wants to take notes in class this time around. If that means sometimes he needs a little weed to take the edge of stress off? Well, it's a good thing he knows a good dealer.

As things finally fall into place and Steve begins to re-form the most important relationship in his life, he thinks anything strange is over. Then, Robin starts mentioning weird dreams about ice cream and torture, and Max Mayfield shows up from California with an angry step-brother and a lot of questions. Maybe those memories aren't erased, after all.

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove Tags: Romance, Angst, Friends to Lovers, AU: Time Travel to Pre-Season 1, Post-Season 4, Impermanent Major Character Death, Fix-it, Falling In Love, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington-Centric, First Kiss, Drug Use (Marijuana), Steve Harrington VS Junior Year (Again)

Excerpt (cont. under the cut):

It had been a few weeks in the new timeline when Steve jumped at the sound of the phone ringing through the empty house. He frowned, setting down his fork and walking to the phone. It was Wednesday, Steve was sure of it, and Dustin’s calls always came on Thursdays, so who the hell would be calling?

“Hello?”

“Hi, Steve.” Nancy’s voice was soft and sweet and surprising.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Nance, what’s up?” He asked, heart suddenly starting to race – not because he had feelings for Nancy but because if Nancy was calling then something was wrong. Had something happened? Had their plan not –

“Listen, I don’t have too much time, Mom’s making dinner and I just finished up my homework, but I really wanted to call you,” Nancy said. She wouldn’t start out so calm if something was happening, right? So this was just a social call?

“Um. Why?” He asked, then winced. Since when did he forget how to have a conversation?

He could hear Nancy’s sigh through the phone. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you at school lately, and –“

“Okay, creep,” he joked, lips curling at the corners when Nancy laughed.

“Shut up, I just mean I’ve – Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And like I said, I’ve been watching you in the halls and stuff, and I know you’re eating lunch in the library because Tommy told everyone in the cafeteria one day –“

He what?

“- and I know the whole thing with Robin is hard for you but…”

“But what?” He prompted when she trailed off.

“But you’re moping, Steve. You’re moping all over school, and probably all over your house.”

“I – wha- I mean, that’s not true,” Steve said, frowning.

“Steve, we beat the bad guys and everybody is fine. Everybody’s alive! And you’re moping.”

“Okay, now this just feels like you’re being mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m trying to – “ She cut herself off with a frustrated groan. “Do you even know how El is doing?”

“I – what? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay, Steve, but also, no, she’s not okay, because Hopper is still trying to find Owens since he’s the one that will probably know best if it’s safe for Jane Hopper to suddenly show up in Hawkins and enroll in school. So, she spends her days alone, but everyone always goes to visit her, every Saturday, at the cabin. Everyone except you.”

Steve felt tears prick behind his eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, you did,” Nancy said, sounding tired. “Dustin said he asked you to come that first weekend, and you said no, so he didn’t ask you again.”

“I don’t – I don’t remember that,” he admitted, feeling dreadful disappointment spread through his veins. “Nancy, I hardly – that first week was –“

“But it wasn’t just the first week, Steve. We’re all trying to get back to our lives but you’re just going through the motions. Even Dustin knows something’s wrong.”

“What? I talk to Dustin every week!”

“Lucas wanted to invite you to the park to play basketball and Dustin told him you probably still weren’t ready.”

Steve’s jaw dropped.

“Dustin knows you, in this timeline probably better than anyone, and he knows something’s wrong but he’s still just a kid, Steve, he doesn’t know how to deal with this.”

“Did Dustin ask you to call me?”

“No, this was my idea,” Nancy said. “I’m just a kid, too, Steve. I don’t know what to do to fix it but I want to help you, and so does Jonathan.”

“Jonathan wants to help me?” He asked, incredulous.

Nancy chuckled. “Honestly, I was as surprised as you are. But he does because despite everything, he cares about you. We all care about you, and it’s way too easy for you to hole up in your house and ignore everyone at school and… mope.”

“I don’t think I like that word anymore,” Steve said, even though it was true. His stomach twisted in knots at the sudden guilt he felt.

“Well I didn’t think you’d like it very much if I accused you of being depressed,” Nancy stated boldly, and Steve winced. “Just meet me and Jonathan at that picnic table outside of school tomorrow morning, okay? Like, twenty minutes before first bell. Can you do that?”

Steve swallowed thickly and fought every instinct in him that wanted to say no.

“Yeah, Nance. I can do that.”

Steve woke with a sense of dread hanging over him. He really didn’t want to show up just for Nancy and Jonathan to chew him out for how selfish he’d been (he could beat himself up for that without their help). But he got in his car twenty-five minutes earlier than he usually would, just to make sure he wouldn’t be late, and laughed to himself when he got to the school. He pulled into the empty spot next to Jonathan’s car. Apparently, they had the same idea.

Steve got out of his car and shouldered his backpack. He looked around; there were a few people milling about, and more cars pulling into the lot than he expected this early.

“Do people always get to school this early?” He asked by way of introduction.

Jonathan laughed and walked over to him. Nancy stepped up behind him and gave him a pointed look. “I think you’ll find that you’re just always late.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So, uh… Picnic table?” He suggested, already feeling the stares of their classmates from around them.

Nancy and Jonathan agreed and they made the walk together, quietly taking in each other’s presence. Nancy was in between the two boys but it wasn’t as awkward as Steve expected it to be.

Maybe he really was over Nancy Wheeler, after all.

He choked on a laugh when the picnic table came into view, and they were sighted almost immediately.

“Oh,” Eddie Munson said, grabbing his metal lunchbox and dropping it near his feet. Steve snorted. Eddie huffed. “What?”

“As if we don’t know what’s in your damn lunchbox, Munson,” he said, finding himself immediately falling back into the banter he’d developed with Eddie before –

“I don’t really know what’s going on here,” Eddie admitted with an awkward, nervous laugh. “You three might be the weirdest combination of buyers I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, we’re not –“ Nancy started, but Steve interrupted.

“I am,” he said, ignoring the looks from Nancy and Jonathan. He pulled out his wallet and made eye contact with Eddie. “I’ll –“ He paused, unsure of what to say. He’d never done this himself before. “I’ll take some weed. Uh – a joint? Uh. How much?”

Eddie looked at him with a furrowed brow and a frown on his lips. “Are you wearing a wire?”

Steve snorted a laugh. “Dude. What kind of operation do you think is being run in Nowhere fucking Indiana where a 17-year-old is wearing a wire for a drug bust on your tiny fucking lunchkit –“

“Okay! Okay,” Eddie conceded with a barely concealed laugh. Jonathan was openly laughing behind him, and Steve recognized the amused look on Nancy’s face.

Steve sighed when Eddie just kept looking at him like he didn’t believe him. “I’m being serious. If I’m not gonna have a social life anymore at least let me be high for it.”

“Amen,” Jonathan said quietly, and Steve choked down his laugh.

Finally, after a few more moments of silence where Eddie stared at his face, seemingly deciding whether or not to trust him, Eddie sighed and picked up his lunchbox. Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“I’ll sell you a gram for twenty-five bucks. Do you want pre-rolled, or…” Eddie trailed off.

“Uh,” Steve said, unsure. “Yeah, that’ll probably be easier.”

Eddie opened his lunchbox and got to work rolling the joint. “Usually, it’s your friends I sell to,” he said conversationally.

“Not my friends,” Steve corrected, then awkwardly added, “I don’t have any of those.”

“We’re your friends, Steve,” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the pity that coated her voice.

“Didn’t you, like, dump him for him?” Eddie asked her, pointing first and Steve, then at Jonathan. Nancy huffed, took a breath to begin talking but Steve cut her off before she could begin.

"That's not what happened. Tommy and Carol told everyone that because they're pissed off that I don't wanna hang out with them anymore. Me and Nance are fine. Me and Jonathan are fine. Look. I know you're overcharging me so badly right now but I don't care enough to fight you on it. Can you please just sell me the weed?"

Eddie frowned. “Fifteen.”

Steve looked at him incredulously.

"What can I say? You guilt tripped me and I'm a sucker.” Eddie held out the joint. “Just. Take it."

"Thanks, Munson." Steve said, taking it and stuffing it in a zipper inside his backpack.

Eddie closed and shut his lunchbox, then stepped away from the table and gave a little bow. "King Steve."

"Just Steve."

Eddie looked at him through calculating eyes. "Just Steve, then."

The three of them waited until Eddie was far enough away before taking seats at the table.

Nancy started after a short awkward beat. "Look, start hanging out with us at school. I have mutual friends with Robin, somehow we'll get it through her head that you aren't a bad guy and then it's just a matter of winning her over again -"

"It really isn't like that; I’ve told you a million times, she's my best friend.” Steve said. “And I already just started fucking crying in front of her, I think the ship has sailed."

"Don’t say that, man," Jonathan said. "Just… give it time. Let the school get used to the new you. Maybe you can figure out if she's got a job and apply wherever she works and do whatever you did at Starcourt to make her like you."

Steve sighed. He already knew where Robin worked; she'd told him about the job she had before Scoops. "She's working at a hair salon as a receptionist right now."

"Sorry, they let Robin be in charge of answering phones and setting up appointments?" Nancy asked with an incredulous giggle.

"She doesn't last long," Steve admitted with a little laugh.

The bell rang, interrupting them and signaling the start of another day. Steve sighed to himself and stood, following Nancy and Jonathan into the school. At least he had somewhere to sit at lunch now.

And the chance to get high tonight.

[whatinthehale17]

Okay so, this is a bit of long shot but I'm planning on starting a fanmade project for TE. It's my favorite choices story and there's still so much you can do with it.

I'm currently figuring out how to use Ren'py right now and watching videos and what not to figure out how to do this. I'm pretty new to all this but I think it'd be a fun project.

I'm probably gonna do some of the writing like the plot and Shreya's route (best girl) and also as I said I'm figuring out the coding as well.

But I'm definitely gonna need some help on this. I know others have expressed interest in a 3rd book and now is your chance if you're willing to help. Again it's fanmade and we're not making money off of this, this is just for fun and you can bail at any time.

I'll be making a discord once I start to get some interest in this so the link will be up at some point but if you're interested, just comment saying you'd like to help and what you'll be able to provide for this project.

Co-runner- I'm gonna need someone to help me run this project, help me keep the thing running and I'm a bit of an idiot so I'll be coming to you if I need help with anything. You'll be the Atlas to my MC lmao.

Artist- If you're a good drawer or you just love to draw and wanna help out on this project, we'd love to have you. I'm thinking we'll need some new characters for the plot and if you want, maybe some new backgrounds too (or we could just pick ones from the multiple backgrounds choices already has)

Writer- I'm a lesbian and obsessed with Shreya so I don't really have any idea about the other routes. But I know a lot of people are obsessed with like Beckett and the other love interests so anyone willing to help work on the different routes would be great. Not to mention the plot of the book, the adventures the pend pals could be getting into and side stuff like your relationship with your mom and the villains and such.

Coders- Like any great game, we'd need people who can code or wanna try it out like I'm currently doing. I've always heard Ren'py is good for that stuff and that's what the ILW crew used and that's what I'm currently learning right now so if you wanna try it out or already know how, we'd appreciate the help.

And of course, if you just wanna help out, you can join and I'll figure something out for you to do. My work schedule is kind of whack right now so this week we probably won't be getting anything done unfortunately (maybe Thursday or Friday if I have people and what not) but hopefully the week after, i'll have things figured out.

Last but not least, my idea for how I think the plot should go-

The gang is back for their next year of school

MC, Shreya, Zeph, Beckett- Juniors

Griffin- Senior

Aster, Atlas- Sophomores

But just like always, the school year is never simple for them.

The High Attuned has been watching over the school and visiting more frequently, keeping an eye on you and Atlas.

Zeph is having trouble with Thief captain as much as he hates to admit it.

Griffin is having parent troubles after they found out about his interest in Natural disaster field work instead of being a professional Thief player.

Shreya has hired an assistant to help with Serene and Sublime, though the assistant keeps messing things up and causing Shreya to lose customers, important ones at that.

With Beckett's urge to please his professors, he works himself too much to the point he begins to experience burnout and freaks out over the smallest things resulting in him pushing his friends away.

Aster is having trouble running the shop and keeping up with her studies and she's worried she might have to close it down.

Atlas is happy to catch up on lost time with their mom but when their mom becomes a professor for the school, Atlas isn't exactly sure how to feel about it and starts to lash out on Theia, resulting in the MC to have to try and fix the relationship.

MC does their best to help everyone with their problems but begins to have problems of their own when the school recruits another sun-att who does everything in their power to one up MC in every way.

Of course, it's just a rough draft of how I think the year should go, but we could always change stuff around if people have better ideas. Also, of course, there will be new spells to learn like in the other books and I was also thinking like...was I the only one that shipped Dean Swan and Theia together? Like Dean Swan already acts like a mother figure to the twins. And some of the sources will be back like Gemma and I really wanted to incorporate the High Attuned because we got like two minutes of information about them and then nothing ever again.

So yeah, this is super long and we can talk more on the discord but if you're interested just tell me what you wanna do.