#i know it’s not my mom or sister’s intention to guilt me that’s shit i have to work out on my own. but damn when does it end 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cutlikediamonds · 11 months

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i might be a lot more active here for the summer lol

so i just finished my first year away at school which honestly it had high highs but also low lows so i dont mind coming back home but at the same time, the highs i got were mostly even possible because i wasnt home. my family means well and i love them and i dont want us to ever become estranged or anything but there was just a lot of unresolved trauma and grief among all of us and getting to escape that did wonders for my mental health and even my relationship with them. but i have no where else to be for the summer but home, where i dont have my bedroom anymore and im sleeping on the couch, and where i feel like im surrounded by people who are forever going to cling to a version of me theyve had since i was a kid because they refuse to realize i grew up or that they ever hurt me, intentional or not.

(and it wasnt intentional ever, i know that, which makes everything more complicated because i know im valid in my anger about it but also know that they genuinely didnt mean it. its complicated. families are complicated.)

anyways, that itself is kinda fine on its own. its stressful and it requires all my efforts of self advocacy and regulating my emotions but i was doing okay taking on the challenge mostly.

but ive been here a couple weeks now and something has become incredibly clear that i wasnt really ready for, this house is still so goddamn disordered when it comes to weight and eating and its only gotten way fucking worse.

part of me getting out of here and healing was i got to be completely in control of my own food and restart that incredibly unhealthy relationship from scratch and heal a bit for once. maybe even exercise for reasons that werent self-punishment. i got to finally figure out what foods i even liked because i wasnt just only considering calories and guilt anymore. now im home and i guess i forgot that they all stayed here and didnt get the same experience, theyve only gotten worse. and theyre supportive of me working on my mental health, even if they dont always understand, but ive never told them about my own eating disorder so of course they arent thinking anything of it, but im already relapsing.

i went from not even having access to a scale to having two in the house. they instantly went back to calling me the skinny one. they love boasting about the number on the scale going down and how small their appetite is now and how they arent even hungry - they do not comment on the throwing up and the dizziness theyre getting from the injections.

yeah, injections. not that im expecting an audience but for anyone reading, if youve ever heard of those injections that are originally for diabetics that are now being marketed for weight loss (as if it isnt hard enough for diabetics to get the treatment they need in this fucking country), thats what my brother and sister are on thats making them shed all this weight. my mom isnt on it but shes her usual self, being over supportive of toxic behaviors and trying to hide ‘junk’ food and shit from them, passing it all off as her being helpful.

the thing is its again complicated too. i dont wanna be negative when they try to celebrate their weight loss, i know its something that has genuinely troubled them for years and i can tell this means a lot to them, but fucking come on. i dont need to be a psychologist to see how wrong this all is. i know its a lot harder to do the real work of unpacking your relationship with your body and diet and find a healthy balance but if this is the easy way out they take instead?

theyre obsessive. i just saw my brother weigh himself after eating. my sister is body checking every time she passes the mirror. my mom keeps saying the calories in everything when either of them are looking for something to eat. someone told them ‘i heard most people gain back most of the weight after something like this’ (which is true) and its like they just refused to hear it - ‘im not gonna let that happen.’ hey, as someone who had the exact same fucking mindset when i lost a crazy amount of weight and was scared of one day gaining it back, yeah you fucking will.

and thats what sucks. is i can see how shitty this all is but im too weak to help because its all just triggering me and now i dont wanna stop so i cant make them stop cuz then id have to too. i dont want to admit my own problems yet, then they try to stop me. call me a hypocrite, i am one, i dont know what you want from me. i think ive made it pretty clear we arent very mentally well here.

so thats why im gonna post here more. i dont wanna tell anyone about it cuz i dont wanna admit how much it triggers me, and i also am sick of trauma dumping and venting to friends, so im just gonna grin and bear it and scream about it here.

im down five pounds. its nothing compared to the tens of pounds theyve lost already, but they are kinda cheating arent they so im not even gonna bother comparing. my hw was 170, it was my sw for the worst stint of my restriction. i got all the way to 129, then started antidepressants among other changes and was stuck in the 130s and scared of gaining more for a while, then actually got a little bit happy and gained up to the 150s where ive stayed ever since. i never got to loving my body, i honestly still had a super long way to go with recovering. but it was something. im 151 this morning, i really really really want to keep going. if i can end the summer and start the next semester at 140...

so yeah. ill see you guys later. this made me feel better.

i hope everyone else is having a safe summer.

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misunderstoodxmike · 1 year

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ʀᴜɴᴀᴡᴀʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ || sᴇʟғ-ᴘᴀʀᴀ

everything that happened after he got into his car became a blur. there were pieces such as a paramedic and a cop walking up to him. he wasn’t even sure how he got home but there he was sitting in his driveway. the events of the night replaying in his head but what he kept coming back to was chris unconscious body. as well as matthew’s words that kept playing over and over in his head. ‘you ruin everything that touches or comes in contact with you. god, maybe the doctors shouldn’t have saved your life after you gave birth.’ there wasn’t a lie in what he said. look at what happened with chris. the male was probably mere seconds away from death. mike had pushed him to that point where he gave up on life. he was responsible for that! the heartbroken look on his face, and the words that he spoke before he fell in. what if he does that to liam too? what if he already fucked that up? matthew may be right on that aspect too. he was already spot on everything else. maybe the male wasn’t as bad as mike originally thought. after all, his intentions weren’t good by any means. he let chris confess his feelings and when he was going to walk away, mike dropped the bomb that they had a kid together. there had also been a part of him that hoped that chris would leave matthew to be with him. god, he really was terrible and had wanted to wreck a home. mike probably ruined matthew in the process by making him crazy and jealous. how many more lives was he going to ruin. in that moment, mike knew what had to be done. while he wasn’t going to kill himself. he wasn’t going to put anyone through that of finding or identifying his body. nor leave them the guilt that they might have been responsible. instead, there was one clear choice.

mike found himself running up to his room, grabbing a suitcase and start throwing clothes in it. he didn’t really have a destination or plan in mind but knew that he had to get out of here. if he stuck around anymore, he would destroy and take everyone else down with him. they all deserved to be happy and away from his toxicity. As he put more of his things such as pictures of his family, liam and even chris. something fell from the dresser, a video camera which gave him an idea. Mike set it up to point to the bed before hitting record and sitting down on the bed. “I’m sorry that I can’t do this in person, but this is the best way otherwise I may be talked out of it or I may coward out. I decided that it was best if I left. mom and dad, I’m sorry that I’ve given you so much grief, not only for this but for everything else as well. I gave you two such a headache and I never truly appreciate it. especially you dad whom I call you a hypocrite and treated so badly after you cheated on mom. Look at me now, I’m much worse. I didn’t even tell you two the full truth about what happened between me and chris. I know I said it was a misunderstanding but plain and simple, I cheated on him. I knew I was pregnant with liam before then and I got drunk. We did get in an argument, but I found comfort in someone else. chris didn’t deserve any of the hate or anger that he did. I just did it to save face. aria, I owe you an apology too for not being the best brother and never listening to you. I always thought I knew better when I didn’t. if I would have listened to you, none of this would have ever happened. I even treated ezra like shit, yet, you always treated chris well even defending him when it seemed everyone turn on him. you’re the best sister I could ask for and I know that little ella is going to have such a great mom… chris, I am so sorry about everything I did. I wish I could take it back and give you everything that you missed out on. Unfortunately I can’t do that but what I can do is make up for it. I am give you full custody and relinquishing my rights to liam. you will be a much better dad than I ever will. It’s the least that I can do besides I won’t fuck him up even more than I have. The only thing I asked is that you let my family remain in contact with him. they may have not acted the best towards you, but they didn’t know better. don’t punish them or blame them for my mistakes. Finally, chris, you probably won’t see this until you’re older but dadda loves you very much and I’m sorry that I left you. although if you were in my hands, I would ruin your life too. I know you’ll grow up to be great, take care of everyone especially papa who been through a lot. I love you all. Goodbye.” He stopped recording, leaving a note to be played before zipping up his suitcase and making his way towards his car. mike took a finally look at his house before driving away and not looking back.

two weeks later, mike found himself entering a diner for dinner. he lost track of where he was. ultimately just letting the road take him wherever. If he knew where he may be, there was a chance that he’ll want to go home to catch a glimpse of Liam, see how Chris is doing or even see his family. they all probably have moved on and forgotten about him. mike wondered how long it took anyone to realize he left. regardless, he missed them a lot and spent most of his nights crying in a very empty and cold bed. mike closed his eyes, taking breaths and not trying to work himself up when someone walked up to his table. At first, he thought it was the waitress, but it was the last person that he expected. when he saw their face, mike was reminded about everything that he had been trying to forget. “matthew.” he said in a tone that wasn’t welcoming or unwelcoming. ‘mike, last place I expected to find you is in a small place like that. may I sit?’ he asked, before taking a seat across from mike. there were a lot of questions to ask but most importantly why he was here. Before he even had a chance to ask, the other answer it. ‘i’ve been looking for you. don’t worry, no one but me knows that you’re here even my husband doesn’t.’ he said with a smile as mike looked down to see the ring on his finger. his heart broke when he saw that it was an identical ring to that of chris’ mother. It seemed they did end up getting married, while it hurt, mike was happy that chris was able to find happiness. “umm.. congrats.” not wanting to talk to much about the topic. ‘thank you, but that’s not why I am here. I hate how I left things between us and how I treated you. especially now that I have so much to thank you for. anyways, chris would kill me if he knew I was here but I wanted to give you a thank you gift. I know how you want to start over and escape it all. I want to help you with that by giving you money to start a life far away from your problems.’ the male pulled out an envelope that contained a bunch of cash. ‘here. I know a part of your heart remains home but there are things that you should know. I’m not saying them to hurt you but to put your mind at ease. I’ve become somewhat of a step-dad to little liam. he’s a great kid by the way. it was hard for him at first but he seems to have moved on. Chris hasn’t really mentioned or talked about you. the only thing he has said is that he hoped you found what you were looking for. your family is still very much involved in liam’s life, in fact, he has a playdate with little ella tomorrow. all your request has been followed. the only person that hasn’t moved on is Jordan. He’s been actively looking for you but unlike him I have the resources and money to waste. I truly think that man is truly and utter in love with you. if he does find you, I suggest that you give him a chance. You two could be very happy together. enough about that, but I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, mike. I feel with everything you’ve been through that you deserve to be happy. Which is why I want to help with that. please take the money and go find yourself whether it be across the country, in a different country or continent.’ The other said sincerely. he couldn’t help to think about how everyone forgot him easily and moved on. “I guess this is goodbye then. please take care of liam and chris.” he quickly left and hopped into his car where tears began falling from his eyes. he grabbed his disposable phone and made a call to someone he hadn’t spoken to in years. “hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while but I need a favor and someone to talk to. yeah, I’m on the road, send me the direction and I’ll be there. It may take a few hours but I’ll be there, okay, thank you. I’ll see you soon.” meanwhile back at the diner, a grin appeared on matthew’s face as he removed the fake ring. everything that he told mike was a lie, and only to get him to permanently leave. with mike forever gone, chris would have no choice but to get back together. it would take some work but with remorse, forgiveness and a broken heart, matthew would get him. there just one more thing that he had to do to seal mike and chris never getting back together. he pulled out his phone to dial Jordan. ‘can you meet up somewhere, I have something that may interest you.’

when he got the call, Jordan was skeptical especially when he heard what happened between matthew and mike. not only had he heard it from the montgomery family but chris himself. that was an tense and interesting conversation on it’s own. Although both were doing their own investigation on where mike was. he was sure that the only reason it was civil was because they were hoping the other had something that may lead them to his location. it seemed that a lot of things happened that night. the outcome ultimately leaving everyone broken. Liam having fallen into a depression which he heard from aria. they hadn’t told him that his dad abandoned him but went away for a bit. the kid wasn’t dumb and knew that his dad wouldn’t leave him behind or not be in constantly contact. The once happy kid was a shell of himself. at this point, Jordan was doing it for the kid. he knew mike was probably hurting just as much. matthew may be another piece of the puzzle since he could fill in the gaps from when chris fell into the water and when he was saved. As he gave his name to the host, Jordan was lead to a table where matthew was finishing his dinner. ‘ah, jordan, please take a seat. did you want something to eat? drink?’ the male shook his head, before speaking. ‘I’m just here because you said that you had something that may interest me?’ Jordan not having patience to deal with matthew right now. ‘yes.. I’ve been told that you’re looking for mike?’ a silence fell over them as things got tensed. ‘what if I told you I knew where he is or rather where he will be.’ The other male said it in such a taunting way that made his blood boil. ‘if you know where he is then tell me!’ he demanded in a hushed tone. ‘why so you can bring him back? no. I had a plan which he ruined by telling chris about his bastard so—’ ‘don’t call him that!’ Jordan interrupted him which matt rolled his eyes at. ‘whatever. I have always been in love chris since I met him. unfortunately for me, him and mike were together and had been for a long time. It was sick how much they were in love. I tried to make advances towards chris but he never saw them or choice to ignore them. anyways, have you wondered why those two broke up? it’s because I made it happened. the night that mike cheated, he wasn’t all there because he was drugged too. his alcohol was laced with drug so when he said that he though that it was chris, well, he probably was seeing that. I made sure I got a look alike. I also made sure that I purposely pulled him away before sending him home when I knew they would be there. Everything happened as planned if not better. they broke up, and it was the end of it. that’s what I thought until a friend of mine that worked at the hospital had overheard that mike was pregnant. It wasn’t hard to figure out the identity since mike never actually slept with anyone. I had to make sure to make my move which worked. Although keeping mike’s pregnancy was harder than expected but when you come from money, it because easy. I knew about chris intent to propose since I am also in charge of the money and accounting part of his business. so I purposely went looking for it to help push things along. I didn’t get the ring but I feel like I got upgraded anyways. we were so close to getting married until they ran into each other. I’m sure you know how the rest happen. you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you this. It’s because I still have hope that things between me and chris could be repaired. that’s where you come in. I need mike to never return and be taken off the market. it won’t be easy since I need your commitment and loyalty. his whereabouts needs to be earned. You don’t have to give me an answer now and I’ll give you time to think about it. although if you tell anyone the deal is off and I’ll deny everything. This would be your one and only chance of ever finding him because now that he didn’t leave a trace, finding him will be almost impossible.’ It took everything not to lose his cool but Jordan had to play along. ‘you got my attention, tell me more.’ He said faking a wicked grin which was returned. two months later, following all of matthew plan, Jordan finally got mike’s location. He called the one person that he knew could help. ‘chris, I know that I am probably the last person that you want to talk to. although I feel like there are things you need to know. more importantly, I know where mike is and I think you need to be the one to talk to him and bring him home.’

#chris x mike -- 002 (self-para)

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apolohgy · 3 years

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#an emptiness today !#i just here everyday and do nothing w my life huh.#and this can’t be imposter syndrome but i haven’t done anything in the first place to warrant feeling like a fraud ahshbsnsnsn #also i’m... trying to lose w****t and today my mom went to the store and before she left she asked me if i wanted a juice (that store has a #juice bar) and i said sure if it’s mango or something. they didn’t have that flower so she brought me a veggie/orange juice combo and i #tasted it and it was fine but i didn’t like it enough to finish so i said no thank you! someone else can drink it #there’s 5 people in our house so finding someone to finish it wouldn’t be a problem #but my older sister asked me if i wanted to switch w her (she had a diff flavor) and i tasted it #still didn’t like it and she was being a little pushy about it and i was like ‘why do you want me to drink this juice so bad’ and she goes #‘bc ma paid for them’ in a kinda defeated tone and i just ... UQWNNNSS!!!!!#i know it wasn’t her intention to ... bring up one of my sore spots about food but bc we were poor our whole lives this is what eating #was like!! not being allowed to leave the table until i finish - getting my plate cleared by an adult before being able to throw it away #being guilted for wasting money and food when we had so little and honestly i get it! my mom did the best she could raising 2 girls alone #but like... it’s taken me 24 years to realize i shouldn’t eat food if i don’t like it? that i’m allowed to not finish food if i’m full?#these are all normal things that i’m just now having to consciously remember when i eat #it’s like having an epiphany every time i realize these are normal things that everybody else does that my ass just clued into in 2020 #i know it’s not my mom or sister’s intention to guilt me that’s shit i have to work out on my own. but damn when does it end 😭#i feel guilty when i eat or cook in front of my family. i feel guilt when i don’t finish. when does it stop!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyways my eyes have tears now. it’s been a bad day. goodnight 😌#i know this is riddled w typos Welcome To My Twisted Mind #won’t be tagging this as m*** bc i don’t want any memories of this fuckass post!

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deniigi · 3 years

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my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

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themountainsays · 2 years

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Dad!Bruno Isamira has almost ended up sounding wholesome, so now I've got to ruin it: Mirabel wouldn't know what real sisterly affection looks like (at least not when it's directed toward her) so how would she know that Isa is *only* being a sister to her? On one hand, she's seriously starved of familial affection; on the other, she'd be terrified that any gesture could cross some invisible line. I don't think it'd be about distrusting or fearing Isa herself (even if it's one-sided) (1/2)

so much as feeling intrinsically tainted by incest, but it'd be very hard for poor Isa not to take it personally. She's really only being a good sister (for once), but every time Mirabel instinctively flinches away from something as innocent as gently fixing her hair she feels like a monster and starts doubting her own intentions. Meanwhile, Mira can't help but associate the one family member she has on her side with her trauma. Whole new dimensions of incest guilt, ahoy! (2/2)

Anon omg ahh I love this new brand of inc3st guilt so much djx kjQC KqdklnwknNmenklSLMFKMLSDKLMFLNwñqwmñNK. ÑMfnk vdm , AHH ahh noo my poor babies 😭😭😭😭😭 gosh the dumb bitch in me wants to jump straight into the Comfort part of the Hurt in which they talk about their feelings and begin to feel more comfortable with each other I JUST WANT MIRABEL TO GET A BIG SISTERLY INCESTUOUS HUG. SOMEBODY HOLD HER SHE NEEDS IT OK?? Let her hesitantly lean back so that her back is pressed to Isabela’s chest and Isabela’s arms are wrapped around her and she slowly relaxes and melts into her embrace 😭😭😭 but nooo yeah anon the Hurt part of the Comfort would last soooo long like I’m talking literal years (like idk 4) of back and forth and feeling scared and guilty and hurt and slowly understanding each other and growing closer and finding comfort in each other without shame. Yeah around the beginning Mirabel is super confused because she has no idea how sisters act and she’s sooo paranoid because she knows both she and Isabela have some fucked up feelings (even if Isabela doesn’t know her feelings are reciprocated at all) and also inc3st has haunted her entire life she’s terrified of it. And it’s not like she sees her mom and dad interact much these days to be able to tell the difference between normal sibling interactions and that. Sure, she’s sees her how her cousins and sisters act with each other, and she’s seen her mom and aunt hang out, and she can tell they don’t treat each other the same way they treat their spouses but like, would a sibling-spouse be too different? She lacks that frame of reference. Because if it’s VERY DIFFERENT, she probably has nothing to worry about – she just has to follow the patterns she sees her sisters and cousins reproduce. Silly banter and hanging out and stealing food together and all that shit. No one is LOVINGLY CUDDLING IN BED AND SOFTLY KISSING NECKS with anyone. If the difference is more subtle, however, then anything can mean anything, little missteps can happen any time, nothing is safe, no one is safe, she’s about to cry. Not to mention, Isabela treats her with a lot more softness than she shows Luisa + their cousins, and she’s trying to psychoanalyze her every time they cross eyes, like, is she being nice because it turns out she likes her more? Because she feels guilty for her past cruelty? To make up for lost time? Because she’s her youngest sister? Because she’s scared of spooking her? Because she’s in love with her? Too confusing. Mirabel.exe has stopped working. She feels a lot more comfortable when she sees how Isabela is with everyone else and then goes and acts the same way with Mirabel and listen her acting can be very good but she’s not perfect and she DOES sometimes break she DOES sometimes stare for a bit too long she DOES sometimes let her hand linger on her hair for a bit too long and it always spooks Mirabel out so bad soooo there goes Isabela’s attempt at making her feel safe.

I don’t think there’s any big breakthrough or any specific character arc they need to complete to get over this problem. I think they’ll just become more comfortable with each other as time passes and they grow closer. Mirabel stops being so paranoid about every demonstration of affection and Isabela stops feeling like a scary predator every time Mirabel gets spooked. Though the LONGING and YEARNING is still there ;-;

Ahh I just want Isabela to hold Mirabel and reassure her that she’s not gross or “tainted” by anything 😭😭😭

#madrigalcest #isamira #dad bruno au #shipcest #past brulieta

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Add A Link and See It Grow

Today’s the last day of the Harringrove Week of Love! The final prompt I chose was Found Family! Read this here or on ao3 posted by ej_writer !

Word Count: 7,305

Rating: T

“Are you serious right now Nancy?”

It was 7:30 at night when Steve heard his doorbell ring and, upon answering it, was met with a swarm of middle schoolers rushing into his house. He had plans to go out to the quarry with Billy in like, a half hour, he could not afford to be the babysitter.

“I’m sorry, Steve. My mom was supposed to watch the kids but she had to go out so she asked me to babysit, but I already told Joyce and Jon I’d help them plan Will's birthday party and it’s only a few days away now and-“ Nancy talked about a thousand miles a minute as she tried to justify dumping the brats on him.

“Whatever, it’s, fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth arguing over either. “Aren’t they old enough to watch themselves at this point?”

Nancy didn’t even respond to that, just gave him a stern look that said ‘you’re watching these kids no matter what, get over it.’ She crossed her arms and squinted at him and, even if it didn’t really matter if he agreed, his resolve broke. “Alright, fine.”

She smiled and thanked him before hurrying back to Jonathan’s still running car. Steve sighed and braced himself before turning around to go back inside. The brats were known for wreaking havoc in a matter of minutes, and he wasn't looking to let them destroy his parents’ house.

In the five minutes he was outside they’d already raided the fridge of all of his pop, added the leaf to his dining table (how did they even know where that thing was?), had game pieces and boards thrown all over the place, and made a stack of their bags in the corner of his living room.

“Wait a second, is this a sleepover?” Steve groaned at all of the overenthusiastic nods he received. “Where am I supposed to put all of you little shits?”

Dustin shrugged. “You have enough rooms in this place to house the whole neighborhood. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Well, since nobody felt the need to run this by me first, I’m already busy. Can you dipshits handle yourselves for like, two hours?”

The look on Mikes face perfectly mirrored the one his sister had given Steve at the door. “Dude, Nancy will kill you if she found out you left us here alone.”

“Not if I kill her first for dumping all of you on me.” The threat had still stuck, she absolutely would kill Steve. There was no way he could get away with leaving them unattended.

He figured he could just call Billy and cancel, but that was really the last thing he wanted to do. He tried to come up with some compromise, but with all the kids pulling up chairs to his dining table with intentions of staying all night, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.

Dialing Billy’s number into the kitchen phone, he walks around the corner into the bathroom, shutting himself in as best he can around the phone's cord in an attempt at having some semblance of privacy from the six sets of prying ears in the next room, but he hears nothing from the other end.

He let it ring a few more times before he gave up, wrapping the cord back up and hanging the phone back in its slot. This wasn’t going to go over well.

Because it wasn’t like he could just be like ‘hey, I have to go do this, be back in a few’ when what he had been planning on doing was going on a date with Billy Hargrove. They were sneaking around behind the kids' backs, so that just wasn’t a luxury they had.

But Billy wouldn’t answer his phone, so he couldn’t explain the situation to him either, and now Steve was backed into a corner, and exponentially screwed.

At first, he was trying to just stay out of the kids’ hair, hover in the corner while they did their thing just to make sure they didn’t get it of hand, but he was feeling too jittery and nervous, so he pulled up one of the thousand extra dining chairs his mother kept around for dinner parties and joined in their stupid game.

For once, they were playing normal people games instead of that role playing thing he couldn't wrap his head around, so he could actually understand what was happening enough to participate.

Not that that meant he ever won, being outsmarted by these kids was his specialty. Round after round they ran circles around him, and he was getting frustrated enough he was considering making them sleep outside.

He was about to throw his cards down and quit for what was probably the tenth time already when he heard the telltale sound of Billy’s Camaro pulling into his driveway.

That was really bad. He’d stood Billy up, and he’d be pissed, he couldn’t let him just barge in here and make a scene in front of the kids. Because not only would that mean they knew Steve was not crushing on some imaginary girl or whatever he’d made up to thwart their suspicions, but that he was with Billy Hargrove of all people. They’d never let it go.

He shot a quick look at Max, who no doubt would’ve been able to recognize the sound of her own brother's car, hoping to somehow communicate to her to keep these other assholes occupied while he dealt with this. He was pretty sure Max already knew about them anyways.

Forfeiting again, he got up from the table and hurried towards the front doors.

Will called after him with a sympathetic, “It’s just a game, Steve!” which thankfully meant they either hadn’t heard or hadn’t recognized the sound of Billy’s car.

Holding up the pack of camels he always kept in his pocket, he turned around to face the kids, backing towards the door still. “Just need a smoke break.”

That seemed to appease them, and they went back to what they were doing. He practically ran the rest of the way to the door, as he opened and closed it before they could see the boy on the stoop.

Billy was standing there probably about to lay on the doorbell, something he always did just to drive Steve crazy, and seemed surprised at the way he came all the way outside and shut the door behind himself. “Listen, I’m on babysitting duty, so I kind of can’t do this right now.”

At the same time Billy’s face fell, Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. This wasn’t about their rendezvous, turning up at Steve’s house usually meant he needed something, and judging from the way his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and the way he was worrying his lip between his teeth, it was something important. “Whatever, Harrington. I’ll get out of your hair.“

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve reached out and put his hand on Billy’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay, I just, I needed you to know they were here.” The additional so you didn’t out us and ruin our lives forever went unsaid, but Billy knew the implications of being caught by the kids.

“I need your first-aid kit“ It was hard for him, asking for help, but these days it was something he needed a lot of.

“Okay.”

Without another word he opened the door and led Billy inside, making him kick off his muddy biker boots before following him up the stairs to where he kept the band aid kit in his bathroom. One of the perks of having a big house was that the kids, from where they were in the dining room, couldn’t see the door, and only heard them go up the steps.

This had become routine for them, Billy showing up at his door in need of a little TLC, and Steve desperate to give it to him, but up to this point they’d been able to evade the kids. He didn’t think it would honestly be all that bad if they knew, Billy’s sister was among them and probably wouldn’t let her friends run too wild with the information, but Billy had made him swear on his life he’d never let them, or anyone else for that matter, find out about it.

Of course he understood that. There was a reason this kept happening, these nights when Billy would show up at his door in need of assistance, and that reason, who’s name happened to be Neil Hargrove, would undoubtedly kill the both of them were he ever to catch word that his son was dating Steve Harrington.

Steve had the displeasure of meeting Neil in person only once in late December, when he’d dropped Max off at her house after a Christmas party at the Byers. Being that he was such a responsible and caring father, or at least that’s what he was for the public eye, he just had to meet the boy who was watching his daughter.

Steve’d been beyond unsettled by the unnecessary firmness of his handshake, the distant look behind his so obviously practiced smile, the way Billy, with his arm in a cast for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, loomed in the corner as Neil did his interrogation.

When he was satisfied with the answers he’d been given, sure that Steve wasn’t carting the kids around because he was a creep or something, he’d let him go with a slap to the shoulder that was a little too hard to be friendly, and made Billy, maybe as a show of some sort of old fashioned respect, walk him back to his car.

“Did he do that to you?” Maybe it was because his experience with his own father had made it easier to recognize, but Steve was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was going on here.

Billy kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders squared, defensive in a way that was distinctly un-Billy. The broken arm must have been preventing his fighting instincts from taking over, or maybe it was the guilt from already beating the shit out of Steve once. “Maybe.”

That was enough of an answer for him. “Look, if you ever need anything, just like, I don’t know, come find me or something, man.”

Billy’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of some response, but that had gotten to him. He kept his lips pressed in a flat line, and stared at Steve like he just grew a second head.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, just, my door is always open, or whatever.” It was extremely awkward, Steve offering help to the boy who’d literally just beat the shit out of him and concussed him like a month ago, but he could see through him.

The scar in his eyebrow didn’t come from their fight, nor did the cast on his arm. Seeing the way Neil acted, the saccharine smile he wore as he made subtle threats on him when he literally did nothing but drive his daughter around, he had enough to figure out that those injuries had been from what Billy had faced once he came home that night.

Billy hadn’t said anything, just scoffed and turned around to go back into his house, but a week later he showed up at Steve’s house, having gotten the address off of their sort of mutual friend Tommy, with a broken nose and bled all over his living room carpet, and the rest was history.

Steve walked him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat, popping open the first-aid kit where it sat on the tiled counter. “Where’re you hurt?”

A nervous habit of his, Billy was chewing on the side of his thumb nail. His gaze flickered between Steve’s face and the framed painting behind him on the wall. “S’my ribs.”

Steve got him to shrug out of the two different jackets he was wearing, his first winter in the Midwest had proved to be far too cold for a Cali-raised boy like Billy, and pull the Henley shirt he had on over his head. The damage hidden underneath was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

Reaching out, Steve gingerly touched the deep purple bruises littering the other boy's chest and ribs. He felt breathless, this was by far the worst he’d ever seen it. “Jesus, Bills.”

Billy wasn’t very good at accepting sympathy from others. It made him feel all squeamish to be fussed over, and Steve was the king of fussing over him. He muttered, “Think there’s a cut towards the back.”

Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s forearm and gently pushed his arm up over his head to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a gash about 6 inches long on his left side. “What the hell did he do to you?”

Billy sniffs, looks away and says, like it’s nothing, “Steel-toes break the skin easier.”

Every time they did this, Steve’s heart broke into a million little pieces. The nonchalance of it all was the worst part, the way it was so normal for Billy to have his father kick him until his ribs were bruised black and bleeding, it made him so sad to see his Billy that way.

He let Billy put his arm down and crossed his own arms over his chest, “You’re gonna need stitches.”

“You know how to sew.” Another shot right in his heart, Steve didn’t know how much of this he could handle.

“Barely. And this is completely different.” Steve stepped forward and put his hand on the side of Billy’s face, keeping him from looking away again to stare at that stupid painting on the wall. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it, Stevie. Either you do it or I will.” If Billy gave an ultimatum, he meant it.

He definitely didn’t know how to sew, it was a skill considered too feminine to be taught to a son despite its usefulness, so he never learned how, but if Steve didn’t agree he would’ve very much done it and hurt himself a thousand times more in the process just to prove a point

So Steve reluctantly did it, made Billy hold his arm over his head and turn to face the other wall so he could see it better. Not that he was an overly emotional person, or maybe he just wouldn’t admit he was, but the sight before him put tears in his eyes.

Billy caught that, and despite the swell of nervousness in his own chest as he saw Steve threading a needle from out of the kit, he offered comfort to his boyfriend.

“Only a few more months before I’m outta there, then we won’t have to worry about this shit any more.” Billy would turn 18 in June, just under three months from now, but when he showed up at Steve’s door bloodied and bruised every other day, that long stretch of time offered no comfort.

It wouldn’t be as easy as Billy seemed to think it was to leave. He wouldn’t have any money, the Camaro wasn’t in his name, so he wouldn’t have any way to get around, and he didn’t even know where he would stay yet. That was all hypothetical for if he’d even be able to leave too.

With an abusive father constantly looming over his shoulder and keeping tabs on him, he’d know he was going to leave and try to stop it at all costs. It was only a matter of time before he started trying to manipulate Billy into staying.

It clearly didn’t have the desired effect on Steve. Billy’d even offered his assurances with a smile, but his boyfriends face stayed grim as he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad so he could start to try to stitch it shut.

They stayed silent after that, while Steve tried to steady his shaking hands for long enough to get the needle in and out of Billy’s skin without hurting him too bad. The only break in the silence was the occasional gasp from Billy when Steve made another hole in his skin, or the noise drifting up from when the kids started yelling downstairs.

After a few more times in and out he was able to tie it off, the sutures were sort of crude, but were doing their job, and he made Billy move his arm all around to make sure they wouldn’t tear right through his skin. Once he was appeased, he made him put a new shirt on, the other one stained with his blood would have to be washed.

Billy stood up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m gonna be okay baby.”

Steve reached his arms around the back of Billy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know but-“

Cutting him off with a quick kiss, Billy interjected. “It doesn’t matter about him as long as I have you.” Another peck to his lips. “Love you.”

It hardly did anything to cheer Steve up or comfort him, but there wasn’t anything that could when every night, he sent his boyfriend back into the arms of a monster. He sighed and ran his fingers through the long hair at the back of Billy’s neck. “I love you too.”

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Billy pulled away to grab his jacket off of the counter. Shrugging the layers back onto his shoulders, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. “I should go. The nerd herd’s gonna wonder where we went.”

“I want you to stay.” Steve kissed him one more time. “Not gonna let you go back to him yet.”

Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve must’ve been looking as sad as he felt, because Billy sighed and gave in. “Fine. But your kids aren’t going to be too happy about that.”

“They’ll be fine.” Billy always seemed to underestimate just how much the kids liked him.

It was true that they hadn’t been his biggest fans at first, but when they first started doing this, Steve made him swear he’d apologize to them, and he did.

They were smart kids, they understood how the situation had looked when he got pissed, all of them hiding from him in a strangers house, and they understood the implications too of him begging Max to leave with him and his arm being broken literally the next day when she hadn’t.

It wasn’t immediate forgiveness, they were pretty wary around him until they felt he’d done enough to prove that he meant it when he apologized, but they’d all more or less accepted it by now.

Because he hadn’t stopped after just saying sorry. The words themselves never meant much to him at all, what with the situation he grew up in, so he tried to show them he was sorry.

Which was how he had become the secondary chauffeur after Steve, taking more than just Max home after trips to the movies or the arcade, and consequently how he had started helping them sneak around.

More than a few times he’d helped them smuggle Eleven out of her dad's cabin, because he understood feeling trapped, before he had his own car Neil had been able to keep him under 24/7 surveillance. He always covered for Lucas too, driving him home first before anyone else, and when Neil wanted to know who Max had been with, he’d lie and say it was just Dustin or El. After what happened it felt like the least he could do, but Steve was right, by now, they were pretty much over it.

Either way, he didn’t exactly want to have to explain away why he and Steve had disappeared upstairs for the last hour, hour and half. They might forgive him for his stupid outburst, but he couldn’t be sure where they drew the line.

Steve smiled at him and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s wrist, pulling him out of the bathroom and back through the hallway to the stairs. “Just follow my lead.”

Any semblance of a plan was lost when they made it back to the kitchen, Billy leaning in the doorway while Steve announced his presence, and they saw Eleven washing blood off of her hands in the sink.

There were some things Billy knew he’d never understand about these kids, Steve had made him promise he wouldn’t ask questions even though that was what had got them into a fight in the first place, so, despite his confusion, he didn’t even try to ask.

Not even when Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimanded her. “Oh, you were not spying on me.”

She smiled coyly. “I was.”

Billy felt the blood drain out of his face, felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he and Steve exchanged a look of fear. Steve stuttered and started trying to explain. “Listen you guys-“

Dustin cut him off, always overly eager to complain. “She won’t tell us anything.”

Nodding, Mike agreed. “She says it’s an ‘invasion of your privacy’.” He used air quotes around the last part as if spying on people in their own homes wasn’t exactly that.

The fear on Steve's face shifted into anger as he pointed his finger in Mike's face. “That’s because it is. I told you little shits a thousand times: no spying.”

Lucas interjected, agreeing with his friends. “What’s it matter if she won’t tell us anyways?”

Max fixed him with a deadly look and scoffed. “It matters because she didn’t want to and you made her. Why should she tell you what she saw?” Typically, Max would be on Lucas’ side, but they must’ve been fighting again.

Billy, watching the scene unfold while leaning on the door frame, clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and announced. “Seems like I walked into something.” He turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. “Catch ya ‘round, Harrington.”

Before he could get away, Steve grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged, stopping him dead in his tracks. “No way. You’re not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”

“Your children aren’t my responsibility.” He reminded him, but he had no actual intentions of actually leaving and they both knew that.

The kids hadn’t understood at first why Steve got along with Billy after he’d been the one to be beat up, so, to put it in a way that made sense to the brats, they pretended to argue so it seemed like they were only begrudgingly hanging out, and so far, they hadn’t seen through it.

Steve had a retort ready, but Dustin beat him to it. The kids were constantly rubbing it in Billy’s face that they’d turned him into a babysitter too. “Yeah, we kind of are.”

Lucas, obviously only trying to get some sort of points towards Max’s forgiveness, agreed. “Especially since one of us is your totally awesome sister.” Max just rolled her eyes at his attempt.

Realizing he was still holding onto Billy’s jacket, Steve pulled him back into the room and let go. “You’re staying.” He turned to Will and asked him like nothing had happened, “So what are we playing?”

Unsurprisingly, the kids had developed tiny attention spans. They'd gotten quite the taste for crazy adventures, so unlike normal teenagers, activities like watching movies and playing truth or dare all night wouldn’t really do it for them.

Since Steve had left, they’d apparently played through two different games and had been about to start a third before they decided to spy.

Mike tells them, “We’ve narrowed it down to Uno and Monopoly.”

“Mike, Will, and Max vote Monopoly. Me, Lucas, and El vote Uno.” Dustin further explained, “We need a tie breaker.”

“I’m not any good at Monopoly. Too much counting.” Steve nudged Billy with his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“Last time I played Monopoly I broke someone's nose, and I’m colorblind. Don’t think my vote counts.” Neither of those facts are particularly untrue, but the only reason Billy brings them up is because he’s still trying to deny that he’s their babysitter.

Staying for Steve, whatever, that was fine, but playing board games with the little shits, that would be giving in, admitting that he wasn’t above hanging out with middle schoolers on a Friday night.

But he doesn’t get out of it, because with the excitement of all of the kids combined, Will pipes up. “Don’t worry, I am too! My mom put shapes on all the cards so I can tell the difference.”

He hurries and fishes out the playing deck, bringing it straight to Billy to look through. “See! Reds are squares, greens are circles, yellows are stars, and blues are triangles!”

Steve smirks at Billy, at the defeated look on his face. “Looks like you’re not getting out of this one, Hargrove.”

Tumblr decided this was too long, go ahead and finish reading on ao3! Over there I’m ej_writer !

#harringrove week of love #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#I suppose this is sort of a prerequisite to found family? I don’t really know but you can tell what I’m going for #and that’s a wrap folks!#huge thanks to the people in charge of this event its been really really cool #sorry this is so late I had to do some college stuff and forgot :-(

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laws-yellow-submarine · 3 years

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Uhhhh hi? Lol I dunno if anyone remembers this, but this past May I mentioned I was going through quite a lot, and at the time I had a Hazel-focused Mother's Day angst one-shot half-written, that never got finished.

Well, it's 3:30 am, and it's finished! 😃 this was written on my phone, so it may not be well edited, and I can't guarantee it's 100% in character; but it was cathartic as hell. I won't be including this in Together With Fruit (it just doesn't fit anywhere), but I will say it's 100% canon to Hazel’s character/story. That being said, you don't have to read it if you don't want to - it's a little heavy, imo, and I won't be offended if people skip it.

But without further ado, I present: The Problems with Mother's Day

TW/CW: Parental angst, estranged parent relationships, mentions of death, feelings of inadequacy (if I need to add anything lemme know!)

Word Count: 2,052

-------

From the moment Hazel opened her eyes, she knew it was going to be a long day. The skies were cloudy, the waves choppy, and her roommate’s face was about ten inches away, smiling a little too sweetly.

“Ahh!” she yelled, jumping back in bed. “Nami, what the hell?!”

“Oh good, you’re up!” Nami chirped at her, doing nothing to alleviate the suspicion in Hazel’s gut. “I need a favor!”

“I told you before: if Luffy gets his head stuck between the railings, it’s better to just leave him there or he’ll never learn his lesson.”

“No, no, not that, silly!” Hazel glared further at the young woman, suspicion thoroughly piqued. “See, it’s Mother’s Day! Normally, Nojiko and I have a tradition of cooking a big breakfast, but since she’s obviously not here, I was wondering if you’d like to join me?” and then she flashed the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes Hazel had ever seen. Which was saying something, considering how often Ace had tried to use that on her when they were kids.

There was just one issue.

“It’s Mother’s Day?” Hazel groaned, rubbing one hand over her face. Nami took her groaning as a sign of tiredness, and enthusiastically nodded her head.

“Please, Hazel? My sister and I do this every year, and I’d really like to share it with you!”

Guilt gnawed at Hazel’s gut. How could she possibly say “no” now?

“Sure, Nami...just,” she sighed, “give me a second to get dressed.” And then Nami let out a squeal, of all things, hugged the purple-haired girl around the shoulders, and bounded up the stairs.

Left alone, Hazel took a deep, shuddery breath. Then she took another one. Then another, on and on until they became steadier, and the world didn’t feel like it’d swallow her up right there. She stood up, padding over to the closet the girls shared, and quickly threw on a plain t-shirt and shorts; something she wouldn’t be upset about getting messy. She threw her curly hair into a messy ponytail, squared her shoulders, and with a firm nod of her head, she followed after Nami.

It was early, enough so that the sun had barely peaked over the horizon. With all the clouds in the sky, the seascape remained a rather dull blue, the orange of the sun’s rays blocked from view. Even Sanji, who normally woke up pretty early to get a start on breakfast, was still nestled deep in his hammock down below.

“How’d you manage to secure the kitchen for the day?” she asked as she entered the galley, deftly catching the apron Nami tossed her way.

“I told Sanji-kun I had something special planned, batted my eyelashes a bit, and he was convinced to sleep in for a day,” Nami explained, pulling the last of the ingredients from the fridge and setting them on the counter. “I’ve got the pancake batter covered, if you wanna get a start on the bacon!”

Hazel slid up to the counter, eyeing the array of food and utensils the navigator had set out. It had been a while since she'd made bacon - Luffy had a habit of stealing the still sizzling strips from the pan - but she dutifully set to work at the stove as Nami chatted on.

"One year, Belle-mere wasn't able to afford our usual breakfast ingredients, so Nojiko and I had to improvise," the younger woman was saying as she steadily dribbled pancake batter onto the skillet. "We snuck into the tangerine grove and picked as many as we could find, but we stuck to the smaller ones so they wouldn't be missed." Hazel hummed in acknowledgement, gut churning. "Nojiko set up an entire tray of tangerines cut into different shapes, but when Belle-mere tried to eat? Her face puckered up like this!"

Nami's face scrunched into an expression that resembled a dried up pufferfish, cheeks sunken in and eyes screwed shut, before she bust out laughing at the memory. Hazel smiled good-naturedly, piling more bacon onto the plate beside her, and Nami launched into another story.

"Oh! And then there was the year I tried to make the pancakes by myself for the first time! Normally that was Nojiko's job, but I convinced her to let me try," the navigator said, eyes far away as she expertly flipped another pancake. "The entire kitchen ended up covered in batter! I'm not even sure how it happened - I thought Belle-mere would be furious! I was so scared I hid in the closet, but I didn't realize I'd tracked flour behind me." Nami shook her head, smiling. "Belle-mere opened the closet door, took one look at me, and grinned this huge grin. She said it was the 'best year ever'..."

Hazel bit her cheek as Nami sighed wistfully. "Belle-mere was always saying that: it was the 'best year ever', no matter how much we ruined breakfast."

"Hm."

"Hazel, are you ok?"

"Huh?" Hazel glanced at her in surprise, then quickly resumed her task, tension coiling in her gut as she nodded. Just breathe, Hazel…

"Are you sure?" Nami asked, worry ringing in her voice. "You don't seem to be having much fun."

"I'm fine, Nami," Hazel grit out, flinching back as a drop of grease jumped out at her.

"No you're not! What's wrong?"

"Look, I said I'm fine, alright?!" Hazel snapped, turning from the bacon to glare at the young girl. "I just don't really give a shit about Mother's Day!"

Nami's gasp was accented by the galley door opening, their crew's footsteps halting as Hazel’s statement hung in the air. All at once, her anger fled, replaced quickly with burning shame at Nami's watery gaze. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, and the warmth growing in her cheeks, Hazel muttered a quick "sorry" before bolting from the room.

The others watched her go, breakfast momentarily forgotten, until the familiar thwap thwap of their captain's flip flops broke the silence, punctuated by Luffy’s excited cry: "Sanji! Food!"

--------

"I just don't get it!" Nami yelled as she sat at the table, anger, embarrassment, and guilt all warring within her. Hazel still hadn't returned to the kitchen. "It's just Mother's Day. It should be a day to celebrate!"

"I'm sure Hazel-chan has her reasons, Nami-san," Sanji said around his cigarette, unhappy that "his girls" were at odds. Luffy scratched under his hat.

"What's Mother's Day?"

Luckily for him, Luffy was used to the incredulous stares his crew often bestowed on him. Even Zoro was looking at him like he'd grown a second head. Wait. Could he do that?

"Even you should know what Mother's Day is," Nami scolded the boy as he inexplicably began to pull at the skin on his shoulder.

Luffy shrugged. "Nope!"

"It's the day you celebrate your mom!" Nami was met with a blank stare. "You know, the one who provides for you, even if it means she goes without."

"The one who encourages your dreams, and loves you unconditionally," Sanji added, a wistful look in his eye as he flicked his cigarette.

"The one who tells you stories, and tucks you into bed at night," Usopp chimed in, face alight with happy memories.

But Luffy merely raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Hazel already has a birthday, I'm supposed to give her two parties?!"

And then the room grew silent once more as the weight of his question settled on the others' shoulders. Nami felt her stomach clench, threatening to evict a breakfast she hadn't even eaten as she realized what had happened. She pushed herself to her feet, rushing out of the kitchen with barely a word to the others.

She had to find Hazel.

-------

Nami found her standing against the railing, on the complete opposite side of the ship. Hazel’s arms were crossed in front of her, the wind blowing through her loose, purple curls as she gazed out at the sea. The navigator approached slowly, suddenly nervous now that she was here. But before she could utter any apology, Hazel beat her to it.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. That wasn't very fair, and you didn't deserve it."

Nami's brown eyes snapped up to the other woman's face, still not facing her, and swallowed against the growing lump in her throat.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she said, leaning on the rail beside her. "I should have asked you first. I shouldn't have assumed you'd be OK with it."

Hazel shrugged. "You had good intentions, at least. It's the thought that counts."

"Is it?" But Hazel didn't answer, and the two slipped into a heavy silence broken only by the crash of waves against the hull. "What happened to her?" Nami finally asked, shoulders tensed as she waited for the older woman to either answer or scold her.

Hazel only sighed. "Honestly?" she clicked her tongue, shrugging her shoulders and biting her lip. "No idea. Don't really remember her."

"But if you don't remember…" Nami started, eyes lighting up as an idea struck her. "Then she could still be out there somewhere! Maybe we'll find her-!"

"I hope she's dead."

The finality of the statement struck Nami dumb, mouth hanging open in shock at the woman's deadened expression. There was no waver in Hazel’s tone, no room for any doubt that she meant it. "What…?"

Hazel laughed through her nose, a bitter sound. "Sounds horrible, right? Especially today of all days? But it's true." Hazel’s jaw clenched, her fists curling around the Merry's railing. "If she's dead, then it wasn't a choice. If she's dead, then she didn't decide to -! She didn't just -!" Her shoulders shook, breaths coming out in ragged gasps, unable to finish the statement.

Nami reacted without thinking, pulling the shaking woman into her arms without hesitation. Hazel's voice broke, heartache echoing between them as she gasped out: "why wasn't I enough?"

"Now you look at me!" Nami cried, pulling back to lock her eyes onto Hazel’s. "Don't you ever think you aren't enough! Just look at everything you've done! We're all here because of you, Hazel!"

Hazel rolled her watery gray eyes. "You're here because of Luffy - I'm just emotional support." But Nami shook her head.

"Luffy may have brought us together, but he only got to where he is because you supported him! He thinks the absolute world of you, he loves you - we all love you! And you've done all of this without her! Screw her!" Hazel dissolved into a new round of tears, and Nami pulled her back into her warm embrace. "New tradition: from now on, let us show you how much we appreciate you, whether that's through breakfast together, or leaving you the hell alone."

Hazel choked out a wet, shaky laugh, fingers clutching tightly to Nami's t-shirt as the tears flowed through her. Finally, they subsided, and as she leaned back Nami helped wipe the remaining tear tracks away. Hazel took a deep breath, then another, feeling lighter than she had all day. Then, her stomach growled.

"I think I'm ready to go back to breakfast," she murmured, too drained to be embarrassed. Nami just smiled, linking their arms together as she led the way back to the others.

When they entered the galley, the pair were separated when a rubbery figure launched itself at Hazel. Luffy wrapped his limbs around his sister, squeezing so tight it was a wonder she didn't break a rib. "Hazel! Sanji made you coffee! He wouldn't let me try it but I did anyway - how do you drink that stuff?!"

Hazel just smiled at his rambling, wiggling her arms free of her brother's embrace, surprising the boy when she hugged him back (almost) as tightly, and kissed him on the forehead. "Heeey!" He whined, pulling away to angrily rub at the spot she'd kissed. "What was that for?!"

"Nothing, just…I'm proud of you, Luff." The boy's face broke into a grin.

"Shishishi! I'm proud of you, too! Now, let's eat!"

Finally, the Straw Hats gathered around the table, digging into their meal with an excited frenzy. Sipping her coffee, Hazel nudged the woman beside her. "Thanks, Nami," she said, smiling easily after the events of that morning. "But, for future reference? On Father's Day, you may just wanna let me stay in bed."

#monkey d. hazel #one piece oc #one piece original character #together with fruit #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fan fic #monkey siblings #monkey d. luffy #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #usopp #cat burglar nami #straw hat pirates #yes it's a mother's day fic in October - sue me lol #leyna go to bed at a decent time challenge

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partnersatfazbear · 3 years

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Fazbear Frights: What We Found Analysis

Here’s my analysis for What We Found, the third story in Gumdrop Angel. I wrote this as I read so it may be a little different than my previous analysis where I read the story first and went back.

If you’re a Michael Afton fan I highly recommend this. Also, there’s possibly some insight into William Afton, Mrs. Afton, and Henry too, so it’s worth a skim.

Pg 144 '...a place thirty-some years forgotten' Just reconfirming FNAF 3 is 30 years past *one* of the FNAF closings, presumably FNAF 2 location.

Pg 145 "The whole building was giving him [Hudson] a headache." FIX THE VENTILATION BRUH

Pg 148 '...they were able to use salvaged derelict equiptment original to the old pizzerias.' Another confirmation of something we heard from Phone Guy.

Pg 147 "How old are you?" "Twenty-three, same as you." I think this gives us Michael's age during FNAF 3.

EDIT: This kept me awake last night. Obviously this is impossible because he has to be alive for at least 10 years before 1983, BUT maybe its just reconfirming FNAF 3′s year? 2023?

Pg 149 "Hudsan's dad died and his mom married Lewis, a ridiculous balding man who wore plaid vests and smoked a pipe" Did... Did this book just seriously imply Mrs. Afton left William for Henry? Really? (Yes, there's differences; the husband is dead and the man wears plaid 'vests' but it seems very odd to include that detail. This could just have been the writer's own imagination, though.) I have seen this as a fan theory and 100% explains the jealousy aspect of William, but I can't help but kinda hate it. I think this is very important, though, and probably Scott's intention. "This horrible little man [Lewis]... would make Hudson's next ten years a living Hell" This REALLY intrigues me given the context I just went over. The text implies Lewis was fairly neglectful to our main character / Michael stand-in Hudson. Maybe I'm wrong and for some reason Mrs. Emily left and went to William? XD Haha, I'm reading too much into this page. Maybe I'll come back to this later. I figure it's more of Scott possibly including double-details (contradicting stuff with the same character that really applies to two, which has been something I heavily pointed out in previous anaylsis on this blog) Having said that, I'm going w/the former because I can't imagine Henry being abusive (neglectful yes, abusive no) and he's never been portrayed that way in official works like William has in the novels.

Pg 150 "Hudson began to screw up in class...a product of spending the night in fear that his stepfather [Lewis]... [would] beat him just for the fun of it." Ooof. Big confirm on William actually being abusive. Unless we stick with the Henry theory for Lewis (combined with Midnight Motorist Henry theory / alcoholic). "...near-daily beatings..." "his mom started taking pills to get through the day..." So, whoever Mrs. Afton is, she was definetly not paying attention. But then, most people married to serial killers either don't notice because of denial (like this) or because the killer is so manipulative / careful they can't notice.

"Barry, who had red hair and freckles..." Yo?! Is that a description of Fritz?! These friends in the story could be the other kids Michael knew's stand-in's, aka the two gravestones with names he used (Fritz and Jeremy), as shown in the checks for the games and FNAF 6. I've long figured Michael was probably friends with the victims--it makes them easier, although riskier, targets [for William]. The two friends are male, too, like Fritz and Jeremy. If you're curious about Duane's description (our stand in for Jeremy), it's "tight black shirt... muscles... black hair long enough for a glossy ponytail..." I'm not sure if this matches anything found in the novels or contradicts them, though. (The novels = TSE trilogy)

"And so it went... until the night of the fire." For context, this is before FF burns down. We're learning of Hudson's life from his close friends in childhood, his father's death, his mother remarrying, to his abusive stepfather, to his grades slipping to this line. This would be a new fire not seen/mentioned in the games...

Pg 151 "...go to Charlie's for a sundae..." Really. Really Scott. Just gonna use this name again. OK. I'm not even gonna discuss this because it's probably irrelevant. *This is confirmed on pg 158 to be an ice cream shop. No lore relevance aside the annoying name coincidences Scott loves to troll with.

"This is not... an advance into enemy territory, a fight with demons, or a descent into Hell..." Uh, what? What is Hudson talking about? XD I'm only noting it because it seems so out of place. He's probably talking about video games or something.

Another note, although I don't have a specific reference since it is mentioned off-hand many times, is that Hudson keeps referring to his "history" which is implied to have kept him from getting a well-paying job and a girl he's crushing on doesn't know this "history" which is good for him. Seems good old "Michael Stand-In" has done some jail time or something. Edit: On pg 154/155 the girl asks Hudson, "Did you do it?" Seems he may have killed his stepfather or been involved with something else just as bad. Edit 2: No, I was thinking too deep into it. This probably refers to Evan's death at Fredbear's. DUH.

Pg 156 describes an actual "prize corner" in FF! What am I even reading? IIRC this is in FNAF 3, too. So they just hand out these scary gift boxes to people that complete the attraction? (Hudson says he *would* have fun handing out the scary toys to kids when this location opens--kind of a bully thing to do, eh?)

"[Hudson] avoid[ed] glancing in any of the mirrors..." I'm only pointing this out because it could be reference to one of two things. 1) We know because of one of UCN's music tracks, William has a fear of his reflection. Michael probably shares this trait, especially since 2) after Ennard and all... and later on pg 157 it also says, "he never wanted to face: himself" Sounds like guilt, my guy.

Pg 157 "blonde hair... blue eyes..." Hudson shares an eye color with Michael. It's possible Michael had blonde hair as a child and it changed to brown (it's common, something I personally went through being technically blonde/ blue eyed myself)

"He [Hudson] knew from personal experience that toys could turn from fun...to torture ina heart-beat" Fairly self explanatory. Either Hudson's worked at a creepy location before or he doesn't like remembering Fredbear's.

*checks how much is left.* There's still 35 pages (not counting back/front) left of this... This is gonna be a lot of notes.

Pg 158 Hudson doesn't have a car. Poor Mike, probably having to walk everywhere. Especially as a corpse.

Pg 160 This page describes many physical issues Hudson has that prevents him from entering the Navy, all from the abuse of Lewis. Obvious paralell to Michael becoming an undead [because his father sent him to CBPR indirectly causing his condition]

Pg 161 "How's your granny, Hud?... ...Is she still alive?" "I don't think she can die." Does anyone in the Afton family really 'die'? XD

Pg 162 These few pages discuss Hudson's grandmother. She's described as "a seer who claimed to know the future... ...wore big men's plaid flannel shirts with baggy jeans" Um, more plaid / flannel? AGH. STAHP. Lowkey, I would totally headcanon my Aunt Jen like this, though.

Pg 163 "Hudson's mom... the way she was before Hudson's dad had died... never... particularly warm and fuzzy... but... effiencient and responsible..." More about Mrs. Afton, so that's kinda neat.

"Hudson's dad was fun and attentive." There's a good Dad in this series?

"Unfortunetly, he also struggled with mental illness." "invisible low points" (Pg 164) Kinda reminds me of how Henry is described after Charlotte's death in the books.

Pg 164 "When Steven got himself into a bad deal that cost him his small business... he'd taken his life." Oh, it is Henry! SMH. Way to use confusing paralells. So, from our understanding thus far, Hudson's real father, Steven, is our Henry stand-in. His step-father despite being described similar to Henry, is actually our William stand-in. Fair game, Scott.

Pg 164 "...he [Hudson] was locked into a supply closet..." Oh shit, you guys. So, let me go on a tangent here, because this IS important! I just watched a retrospective on Sister Location and FNAF 6 earlier and one theory for Midnight Motorist was the person in the chair was the mother and the kid was Michael. I think this little line may confirm that. In fact, the story may be the key to figuring things out. Obviously, the line is a paralell to FNAF 4's scene in which Crying Child was locked in the supply closet of Fredbear's. I know some people, including Matpat, believe[d] CC was Michael, and in this book's context, it sort of works. This does contradict Step Closer and 1000 other things that make Michael the older brother, but maybe it's hinting at MM? Abusive stepdad (possibly Henry... maybe William is gone at this point), checked out Mom (hey, grey couch lady with Foxybro's font). IDK, but its definetly something to think about.

Pg 165 Lewis is mentioned as calling Hudson "nothing" and saying "you're nothing" on several occasions on this page. Just more abuse, for those accurate fanfic writers like me. Also I kinda wanna watch Morel Orel again. Yall know my fav character is Clay. Yall know.

"You're smoke." <-- Lewis / The text later reads, "...there was some irony, given what eventually happened." BRUH. Why did your stepdad die in a fire? :V TELL ME.

"When his family's house burned down at the end of his senior year..." Huh. Is there a fire we don't know about in the game-verse? Could this explain what happened to the FNAF 4 house before MM house?!

"...it purged Hudson of Lewis and his mother." MRS. AFTON BURNED ALIVE, TOO? Bruh. I can't with this story.

The text later describes the fire is concluded to be man-made and Hudson was blamed for it. Can't say if this ties to Michael, but it IS interesting... TBF, there is a small paralell to draw between Henry in FNAF 6 and his history of suicide in the books, too.

Pg 166 "...this place's [FF] busted thermostat.." I just find this line funny.

Pg 167 "...after three weeks of keeping an eye on the place" Some more timeline context for FNAF 3. We know that Michael worked there a little while before we start playing the game thanks to one of the phone calls, IIRC, so this makes sense. If Michael was accused of [something] and also wanting to hunt down his father, then it makes perfect sense why he's working a dead end job at Freddy's over and over and over. Fun fun fun.

Pg 169 "He hated to think about a functional character [Foxy]" This line is in regards to Hudson not liking the set up of Pirate's Cove and Foxy's hook to scare people. Sounds familiar, don't it? (For Michael anyway.)

Pg 173 "Some big find is arriving tomorrow." SPRINGY BOI! COME ON BOOK, get on with the show?

Pg 176 "Granny was wearing a red-and-green plaid shirt and her baggy jeans." Nothing special, but it was specifically brought up twice. I'm kind of racking my brain trying to understand what the point of this character is outside of "woooo everything is haunted don't you know that" kind of character.

Pg 180 "...dropped the crate on the linoleum with a resounding thud." HEY. Poor Springtrap, just gettin' tossed around like the trash he is.

Pg 186 "If you weren't so stupid, I'd tell you more about it." Springtrap bringing the burn. =:)

"A voice with a burr-like rasp...hint of a Southern accent" I'm going to assume this is because it's Lewis probably in the suit in this story and not our old British lad.

"It's was Mr. Atkin's voice." THE MATH TEACHER? *goes back to check* 'The algebra teacher'. Okay...

Pg 190 Okay, so Hudson hear's Lewis' voice this time. Okay, I get it now. Springtrap in this kind of imbodies all of Hudson's old bullies, including the teacher. He also has PTSD, just FYI. IDK if anyone finds that important, but it's fairly obvious by the line "He wasn't in his bedroom. Lewis didn't just slam his head into a desk; his head had been slammed into the [arcade] game."

"Why did he hallucinate a scene from his childhood?" Oh, it's not PTSD, then. It's just the VENTILATION ERROR. lol Okay.

Just a note, as I'm reading through the more action-based stuff, I kind of feel bad for Michael if he had flashbacks like this guy. They're intense.

So, Lewis' voice finally comes out of Springtrap on Pg 213. There's that.

Pg 220 "You can just stay there [in his room]" Kind of a paralell to Midnight Motorist. Lewis is saying it to Hudson. I really feel like the kid in the MM game is Michael because of this story...

Pg 223 "Heat purges. Fire heals." I'm sure that's Henry's life motto.

The ending was stupid, but most in these stories are. Hudson is hallucinating and is implied to have burned himself alive in FF's oven. Meh? The first half of this one is A TRIP and a little insight into what I 100% believe is Michael's childhood. I think the saddest part of it all is that we never got Springtrap speaking to Michael in FNAF 3--and if it's ever remade I hope we get more of them interacting.

#fazbear frights #fnaf spoilers #spoilers #what we found #michael afton #springtrap #fnaf theories #fnaf theory #fnaf 3 #midnight motorist #mrs. afton #henry emily

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stevesnailbat · 4 years

Text

waiting for (another) girl like you | steve harrington x wheeler!reader

summary: Steve didn’t plan on falling in love with his ex-girlfriend’s little sister, but shit happens.

warnings: angst, past trauma, self-doubt, mentions of death

word count: 2.3K

a/n: this fic was inspired by the ST1 scene where Steve and Nancy were in his bedroom bc waiting for a girl like you by foreigner is one of my favorite songs at the moment and it played during that scene. it might be a little dumb but i enjoyed writing it so enjoy! also the gif used isn’t mine, it’s from google :)

It wasn’t unusual for the Wheeler household to have family dinner on Sunday with the whole family and the kid’s boyfriends and girlfriends. Most of the time, the dining room was filled with happy chatter amongst everyone at the table. The table was still happy for the most part, but it was different for Steve and Y/N this time.

Steve wasn’t sure what was wrong, but Y/N had been dead silent since they started dinner. He felt like he had done something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. She could feel him glancing over to her every few minutes as she stared at her half-eaten food that she lost interest in. She knew he was confused but so was she.

“Y/N, are you alright? Aren’t you hungry, sweetie?” Karen asked from across the table, making everyone look in her direction.

“I’m—I’m fine! I’m really not hungry, that’s all.” she replied quickly, giving her mom a small smile even though she knew she could see right through it.

Her mom gave her a knowing look before turning back to Holly, who was tapping her shoulder frantically. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look up at Steve, but she knew he was still looking down at her. She nearly winced when his hand reached for her thigh, giving her a comforting squeeze as he finally looked away. It was killing him that he didn’t know what was wrong, but he didn’t want to start something in the middle of a family dinner that could potentially end poorly.

The only thing on Y/N’s mind during dinner was Steve and Nancy, and the fact that she felt like a second pick to her sister in anything and everything. It was enough to make her appetite go away. She couldn’t look at him or her sister without feeling sick, her stomach tying itself into a tighter knot with every minute.

The rest of dinner felt like it took an eternity, and she only stared at her plate for the rest of the time. Steve tried to carry on a conversation with Jonathan while dinner finished up, but Y/N’s sad demeanor was distracting. She was the first to leave the dinner table, excusing herself without letting anyone know. She rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom she shared with Nancy, sliding her back down the wall to sit on the floor next to the toilet.

For the first time all night, she let out a quiet sob. Her thoughts made her dizzy and she felt like she couldn’t see straight, purely out of anger and spite. She knew she didn’t have much of a reason to be so upset, but the thoughts of Steve settling for her had been eating away at her mind for days.

A small knock on the door made her jump as she choked on another sob, her full attention going in that direction.

“Y—Yes?” she said, trying to make herself sound as put together as she could in the situation.

“Y/N, it’s me.” Steve said from the other side of the door, his ear on the door to hear her. “Can I come in?”

“No! Don’t!” she yelled, blocking the door handle quickly as she heard him sigh in frustration. “I—I think you should just go home, Steve. I don’t feel good right now.”

“You felt fine earlier, seriously, Y/N. What’s wrong?” he insisted, but got radio silence in reply. “Well, if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll just wait out here until you decide to let me in.”

“S—Steve, just go home, please.” she whimpered, leaning against the door as she spoke through it.

“I told you, I’m not going home! I’m not leaving you when you’re upset, even if you won’t tell me what I did wrong.” he said, settling down on the floor outside of the bathroom. “I’ll wait for you, even if it means I’m out here all night.”

In that moment, she hated how good of a boyfriend Steve actually was. She felt like she was punched in the gut when he suggested that he did something wrong but couldn’t figure out what it was because she knew he was eating himself alive about. She didn’t really know why she was even mad at him, but she couldn’t help it. Steve truly was wracking his brain for any small details of what he could’ve done wrong in the last day, but couldn’t think of anything. On one side of the door, Steve listened to his girlfriend struggling to hold back sniffles and small sobs. On the other side of the door, Y/N was listening to the words for Waiting for a Girl Like You replay in her mind.

Minutes turned into an hour as they sat on the floor, neither of them daring to acknowledge the person on the other side of the door. Jonathan and El were gone by this point and Mike was in the basement while Karen was trying to get Holly to bed finally. Nancy walked up the stairs to see Steve leaned against the bathroom door, a feeling of guilt running through them both.

“She won’t come out.” Steve sighed when Nancy gave him a sympathetic smile.

Nancy only shrugged when he looked in her direction, not wanting to upset the girl on the other side of the door who was listening intently. Steve ran his hand through his hair and leaned his head against the door as Nancy walked into her bedroom, listening for any sign of Y/N wanting to come out.

“Y/N, please. I just want to talk! We can talk, right?” he pleaded.

“We can talk right here.” she said bluntly as she stared at the wall in front of her, not wanting him to see her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes.

“No, please, baby.” he begged, reaching up for the door handle but stopping himself from trying to open it. “I want to see you, I can’t understand what’s going on unless I can talk to you face-to-face.”

The other side of the door was silent for a moment while Y/N thought about what to do next. She knew how stubborn Steve was, and she knew he wasn’t giving up any time soon. It was useless for her to tell him to leave again, even though she was afraid to tell him how she really was feeling. But, she pushed past her doubts and opened the door, curling up into herself as she did to hide her face.

“I can talk to you face-to-face if you won’t look at me.” Steve joked, nudging her arm softly. “Please look at me. What’s going on?”

“It’s stupid.” she mumbled. “It’s just a bunch of bullshit.”

“W—What?” Steve stammered, taken aback by the word bullshit being muttered to him by another Wheeler sibling.

“This! It’s stupid! Pretending like I don’t think about you dating Nancy? Pretending like I believe that you love me? Pretending like everything’s okay?” she said, finally looking up at him as she threw her arms in defeat. “Do I look like everything’s okay?”

“No—No, you don’t. But I—“

“Are you over Nancy?” she asked abruptly, watching him cautiously.

“Of course I am!” he said immediately, making her sigh in relief that he didn’t take a second thought.

“Do you still love her?” she questioned, the words harder to force from her throat this time.

“No. No. I don’t.” Steve said desperately while staring at her as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her, emotionless. “I love you.”

“Today when we were on the way to my house for dinner, that—that Foreigner song that I love was playing, Waiting for a Girl Like You. I was trying to remember who showed me the song, but I just—I just couldn’t remember for the life of me. But then, you turned the radio station and I saw the look on your face. You looked sad, like someone had just killed a puppy in front of you.” she began, not daring to look at him as she spoke. “That’s when it clicked, Nance showed me that song two years ago. She played it every damn day after things were good again.”

“Y/N, I don’t—“ Steve started, but she held her hand up to cut him off.

“I want to finish, Steve.” she sighed and he nodded quickly, recoiling against the wall. “That was the song you played for her when you guys—you know—did whatever on that night she snuck over with Barb. She was so in love with that song because it was so special for you guys, she told me that she’d never stop listening to it. But—But she did stop. And when she did was when she realized she fell out of love with you. But you—you never fell out of love like she did. You loved her until the end and—and you hate that song because you think that maybe there’s a possibility that you still love her, not me. I was just the closest thing you could get to her.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh under his breath as he shook his head. As much as he wanted to deny it, she wasn’t completely wrong. He didn’t realize that he had continued laughing until he looked up to see the broken expression on his girlfriend’s face.

“Why are you even laughing right now?” she asked, shaking her head as she watched the small smile fall from his face.

“Because—I don’t know, honestly. Maybe because you’re halfway right?” he said, not knowing the answer to his own question. “But, not about still being in love with Nancy, of course. I don’t love her and I haven’t for a while now. I do hate that song, though. But it’s because it reminds me of the last time that my life was good.”

The words bit into her heart like a goddamn demogorgon, hungry to hurt her in any way possible. Steve didn’t mean it in the way that she took it, though. She could tell he didn’t by the look on his face, so she stayed quiet while he paused to take a hitched breath.

“It was that night that I thought my life was on the up and up, but it really wasn’t. It went to shit after that day. We—we killed Barb—“

“You didn’t kill her—“

“Yeah, we didn’t kill her. But we let that thing, that monster, take her because I was stupid and didn’t think of anybody but myself because I was an asshole. Then everything went downhill and my girlfriend fell out of love with me, I didn’t even notice but you know why?” he asked bitterly and she shook her head. “Because I was still holding onto what I thought I had with her. But I was really just holding onto that god-forsaken night, the last night when everything my life alright. And I’d listen to that song too, even after the end I did. When I stopped listening to it was when I realized I had found better things, when I found you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” she seethed, clenching her jaw to hold herself together.

“But I’m not! Once Nancy broke things off, I—I believed that nothing would ever go right for me. Everyone thought everything was fine, right? Because I had to put on a show for the sake of my family.” he confessed.

His voice finally showing signs of pain as he spoke this time, but he didn’t want to hold back. He was rambling at this point, but it was comforting for both of them in some odd way. His sanity was hanging on by a thread that unraveled just a little more with every tear she let slip, but they were slowing down now.

“I acted like things were okay and held onto that damn night like my life depended on it. Because after that night, I became the best damn actor, I became the best stupid, happy teen boy that Hawkins had ever seen; I even believed the act I was putting on.” he sighed, leaning his head against the wall to stare at the ceiling.

“You were looking for a distraction from your acting and I was convenient.” she replied quietly. “The naïve little sister of your ex who wouldn’t take a second glance at the bigger picture of how stupid it all was, right?”

“No—No. You weren’t convenient at all, really.” he laughed, reaching to graze his fingertips across her knuckles. “It wasn’t easy when everyone was telling me it wasn’t worth it, that it’d be too weird to try to even talk to you, that you probably didn’t want me like I wanted you. But I didn’t listen because I saw that look in your eyes when you smiled at me, you looked happy and—and like you wanted to be with me; I ignored everyone because I knew it was worth it. So no, you weren’t convenient. You were far from it, you kinda still are. I think you’re worth it.”

She still stared at the wall in front of her as she let his words process in her mind, the feeling of his fingers against her knuckles soothing her. He watched as she tore herself apart inside, trying to find her own answers.

“You know you’re not my second choice, right?” he interjected, making her eyes flicker in his direction as he squeezed her hand. “If Nancy wanted me back, I wouldn’t care. I know she came first, but that doesn’t mean shit. I didn’t realize that you were right in front of me and that you’d bring so much happiness to my life.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she scoffed as her heart fluttered when he smiled in her direction.

“It’s true! I swear, it really is, Y/N. I love you.” he said as he moved towards her, taking her head in his hands to look into her eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.” she said softly, smiling at him for the first time all night as she leaned over to kiss him softly.

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atreegrowsinnorthnywrites · 3 years

Text

A little v-day love story

I was on my second helping of Dad’s infamous enchiladas when my older brother, Sam, clapped his hands together and declared, “We’re going out!”

My fork clattered to the half-eaten plate and I gave him a stern shake of my head.

“Come onnn, Em,” Sam whined, precariously tipping back his chair so it hovered on two legs. “You can’t sit around and mope forever. Silas and Sean will come too.”

I looked to my two other older brothers with a challenging raise of my eyebrow as Dad leaned forward and cuffed Sam over the head.

“Hell no I’m not,” Sean said without hesitation. All four legs of Sam’s chair returned to the ground with a disappointed thud. “I love you and I’m here for you, Em, but no.”

I chuckled at my eldest brother’s immediate reaction. With a family of his own, and an hour and a half drive back to Tucson, I was not surprised in the least. Silas’s lips were pursed and he actually appeared to be considering.

“Just say no,” I muttered as Sam egged him on.

“I have to text Paige,” Silas said slowly, “but if she doesn’t mind.”

“YES!” Sam pumped his fist triumphantly. “Dad?”

I looked to our patriarch, mid-lift of his beer to his lips, who snorted. “I’ll pass, but so thoughtful of you.” I stifled laughter at Sam’s disappointed face.

“Alright, Em. Go get ready.”

“I’m not done eating?”

My plate disappeared with a quick swipe of Sam’s hand and he waved me away with the other. “You are now.”

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

An hour later we were pulling out of the long driveway that led to Dad’s ranch. I was wedged in the back seat of Silas’s truck between his work boots and tools, Chattahoochee blaring through the speakers, Sam and Silas arguing about the best bar in Bisbee on a Friday night, and it hit me this was the first time I had ever gone out with my brothers.

If I thought about it more, it wasn’t that surprising. After the divorce-court mandated summers in Arizona with my dad and brothers had ended my senior year, I never came back for an extended period again. My mom, my friends, and college were all back in Michigan. Once I met Thomas my sophomore year at Michigan State, I had spent my holiday weekends with his family in Chicago instead of visiting my own.

“You need more air, Em?” Silas asked from the front seat, smiling at me in the rear view.

“I’m good,” I murmured back, a wave of guilt flooding me.

Guilt that reminded me the five years of my life I had spent on Thomas had been a waste, and when the engagement and subsequent wedding had been called off, it had been my dad and three older brothers who had welcomed me home. It was my dad and brothers who had no judgement or questions.

“You better not sulk all night,” Sam warned, whipping around and eyeing me warily.

“I won’t.” I crossed my arms and scowled.

“Good.”

It had been three months since I had broken down in sobs at a dinner with Thomas and proclaimed I couldn’t marry him. Though I would die before admitting aloud any of my brothers were right, it was indeed time to get out of the house.

After Silas parked the truck in downtown Bisbee, we made our way down the string-light filled main street toward a packed bar with live music. Wafts of cigarette smoke, and definitely weed, greeted us outside the door. Silas and Sam shuffled me inside, pushing passed bodies to inch our way towards the bar. The crowd was far more eclectic than I would have guessed for my western brothers, with a band that sounded more like folk rock than country.

“What’ll it be?” Sam shouted over the music.

“A margarita,” I yelled back. “Spicy, if they can.”

He gave me a thumbs up and approached the bar while Silas waved to a group of guys from across the bar that had recognized him. During my summers on dad’s ranch, the only friends I ever really made were friends of my brothers, but I had not seen any of these guys since high school. The band played the final notes of their song and the crowd cheered enthusiastically as they announced a short intermission. Then I heard a high-pitched whistle.

“Ho-ly shit.”

I turned at the curse and came face-to-face with a brown haired, short-bearded, six-foot-or-so man wearing a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and vans. I squinted, and then he said my name.

“Emmeline Collins.”

There was only one person I had ever heard drag the “i” in my name that way.

“Lane?”

My stomach was in my throat. I remembered, very clearly, the last time I had ever spoken to Lane Diaz. He was smiling despite my memory, his right hand wrapped around a bottle of Corona and his left in the pocket of his jeans.

“Didn’t recognize me?” He asked with a laugh, and I debated admitting the truth. He looked great. Better, actually. But his southern accent had faded, and his cowboy look from all the years romping around the ranch with Sam was gone.

“Diaz!” Sam cried as he approached with two bottles in one hand and my cocktail in the other. He distributed the drinks for Silas and me, and then gave Lane a hug. “What’s up, man?”

“Just getting reacquainted with Em.” I frowned. Were we though? “Y’all didn’t mention your little sister was back in town.”

Sam looked down at me and then back to Lane. “Oh, right! You two haven’t…since…oh...right.” Sam took a long pull of his beer, and I stared him down the entire drink.

“Weekend visit to see the family?” Lane asked politely.

“Uhm,” I sipped my margarita for courage. A bite of jalapeño, just the way I liked it. “No. I’m uh, here for the summer.”

“Just like when we were kids,” Lane observed. I took another drink.

“Oh, hey!” Silas announced loudly, moving towards the crowd, “I see uhm...yeah I’ll be over here.”

Silas hurried out of sight, but when Sam went to follow, I dug the heel of my sandal down into his foot.

“What’s it been? Six years?” I asked Lane, taking a third sip and willing the alcohol to hit quickly.

“Seven in August, actually.”

Oh, he remembered.

“I’m going to let you two catch up,” Sam declared bluntly, extracting his foot from under my heel through gritted teeth and patting my shoulder as he walked by. The band was returning to the stage. Lane nodded to a pair of empty seats that had just vacated next to a window, on the far side of the bar from the band. I was trapped and agreed with a jerky, awkward nod.

“You look as surprised to see me as I am to see you,” He noted as we sat down.

“My brothers didn’t mention you were still around,” I replied. I was not entirely surprised he was, considering the rate of people who never leave a small town, but Lane had always seemed different. It was what had attracted me to him all those years ago.

“I moved back last summer,” He shared as the band started up again.

“Where were you before?” I asked over the growing sound.

“Army.”

Now, that, I did not expect. We had talked about going to college together on the west coast before everything happened.

“And you?” He asked, “What are you doing here?”

The question was edged with a coolness I deserved. His face was serious, his warm, brown eyes watching me intently. I did not want to rehash my screwed up, disappointing life with my ex-boyfriend, of all people.

“Another drink, hon?” A waitress asked from behind and I realized I had drained the cocktail in my hand.

“Yes,” I agreed quickly, “Margarita with jalapeño.”

Lane chuckled as the waitress walked away.

“What?” I asked him defensively.

“Why am I not surprised Em Collins’ drink of choice is tequila and spice?”

Ouch.

“The same reason I’m not surprised yours is Corona. What are you on vacation in Rocky Point?” I scoffed.

“You know I asked for a Pina Colada, but they gave me this instead.”

I laughed, and his stoic expression split into the friendly grin I had seen when he first caught sight of me in the bar.

“How long were you in the Army?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. He had a knowing look on his face, aware that I had dodged his question, but polite enough not to call me out. Yet.

“Four years.”

The waitress returned with my drink, and I made sure to put it on Sam’s tab.

“Good for you,” I replied, “Thanks for your uh…service.”

Lane cringed and took a sip of beer while I briefly contemplated throwing back my entire drink so I could at least claim my awkwardness was from blacking out.

“So, where’s your fiancé?” He asked.

I froze mid sip of my drink and looked up at him. We had not been friends on social media since my freshman year of college when a few months into dating Thomas I did an inventory of old photos and took down all of those with Lane and removed him as a friend. A little dramatic, thinking back on it.

“How did you…”

“Sam and I are still friends, Em.”

Duh. My stupid brother had probably told him ages ago. The alcohol was starting to go to my head, making me light and loose-lipped. I didn’t even know why I was skirting around this. I had nothing to prove to Lane Diaz.

“I broke off the engagement a couple months ago. We’re not together.”

It was the most abrupt way I had said it yet. It felt painfully final. Despite my boldness, I could not look at Lane’s face and so I followed it with a shrug and stared out the window.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” Lane said gently.

“It was for the best,” I said quickly, glancing at him and seeing furrowed eyebrows, “Trust me.”

“Doesn’t make it any less hard,” He noted. No, no it did not.

“It sucks, but what do you do,” I replied pitifully, taking yet another drink.

“Is that why you’re back?” He pressed. Lane was never scared to push me. I remember that about our two summers together. He always asked the questions I did not want to answer. Challenged the things I thought and believed.

“Part of it,” I admitted, “Honestly, uhm...I’m having a bit of a quarter-life crisis.”

“I see.”

“I knew my dad would be more understanding...”

A look of recognition crossed Lane’s face and he winced for me. I had almost forgotten our daily phone calls nearly every night of my junior year.

“How’d your mom take it?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re a jackass,” I said with a flourish of my straw, flicking droplets of my drink in his direction. “Because you know exactly how well she took it.”

He coughed on his drink of beer and we both broke into laughter.

“Still a little high strung then?”

“A little?”

“Worse?” Lane gaped.

“After I told her we broke up, she called me back and said I needed to beg for Thomas’s forgiveness. Tell him I was having mental health issues or I would fracture my future.”

“Jesus.”

I finished the rest of my second margarita at the memory of my mother’s shrill voice on the phone. We had spoken once since, and that conversation had been even worse.

“How’s your ma?” I asked, desperate to change the topic.

“She’s good. She was sick last year, but she’s feeling better.” He paused at the look of my face, and I bit my lip to keep from asking more. I had my assumptions with the smoking habit his mom, Eileen, had back then. “She would love to see you.”

He placed emphasized on the word love, and I looked away, uncomfortable at the very thought of going back to Lane’s childhood home where we used to hang out alone when his mom was working nights. Lane seemed to regret the statement and drained the rest of his beer. Regardless of my discomfort, I was not heartless.

“I’d love to see her too,” I added, and Lane relaxed. When his tense shoulders fell, I noticed how much more muscular he was than when we were kids. His brown skin wasn’t as tan anymore though, so he must work indoors. My eyes subtly trailed down to his hand, where I noted no ring on any fingers.

“Another round?” The waitress asked and Lane opened his mouth to answer, but instead gestured to me to decide.

“Sure,” I agreed, and she winked at me, obviously assuming we were on an early date.

“You don’t have to,” Lane said. “I understand if you rather go find your brothers.”

Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was pure curiosity, but I shook my head. “No, this is…nice.”

He gave me his iconic frown smile I remembered well. “Well, alright then.”

The waitress returned with our drinks and when he offered up his credit card, I placed my hand over his and smiled sweetly at her, “Put them both on Sam Collins’ tab. That’s S-A-M.”

When the waitress walked away to do just that, I realized my hand was still on top of Lane’s, my body angled close enough to his I could smell his minty aftershave. He smiled softly and I dropped his hand, quickly reaching for my third drink. The most sour margarita they had made me yet. My mouth puckered and I shivered as it went down.

“There’s the girl I remember.” I tilted my head with curiosity at his comment and Lane laughed, taking a drink instead of elaborating.

“I’m nothing like that girl anymore,” I declared defiantly.

“Good,” Lane said, his smiling fading as he set down his beer. His eyes softened, and his voice dropped. “Because that girl broke my heart.”

#writing community #romcom #romance writing #soft romance #love story #writing prompts #writing prompt #writing ideas #fiction writing #writeblr #short story #prompts

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stormyno · 3 years

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I haven’t used tumblr in ages, but I’m incredibly frustrated with my life and need to vent to the universe.

I was abused as a child by my mother. I am one of four children, and she abused only me. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. When I moved out of my family home at 18, I had no intentions of speaking to her ever again.

I went over three months without hearing a single word from her. She didn’t reach out to me at all. She didn’t even notice. She didnt call me on my birthday. Didn’t call me at Christmas.

I’m unsure how she wormed her way back into my life, but she did.

And since then, she’s continued to abuse me mentally and emotionally. She insults me, tells my family I’m a horrible person and not to talk to me. She makes fun of my physical appearance, and guilt trips me if I want to talk about my life instead of listening to her rattle of lies about my siblings.

I am 26 years old, and my mother continues to abuse me. I don’t know how to sever the relationship at this point. Every time my mom calls or texts me, my entire day is spent ruminating over how bad I feel, and how I must be a piece of shit. Even if it doesn’t logically make sense.

My youngest sister is 11. My mom would never let me see her again if I decided to cut ties with her. I’m trapped. After my wedding, my mom turned her entire family against me, and most of them I havent heard from since.

Im just lost.

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anna-justice · 4 years

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Lost or Found - 12

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

12 - Need You Now ...

Jay clenched his jaw as he took the man’s hand. He wanted nothing more than to sock him square in the face--a thought that was becoming a pattern--and tell him to get the hell out. But, that was a sure way to get himself thrown out, and he refused to let Hailey wake up alone in this horrible situation. So, he bit his tongue and played nice. “You too, sir. Wish it was under better circumstances.” Jay said, forcing a smile. It was true, he did wish that they had met under better circumstances, for two reasons. One being that her dad wasn’t a sadistic asswhole and two being that he wished he was in a position to beat the shit out of him.

Eldon nodded, agreeing with the young man standing in front of him, none-the wiser of his bubbling hatred. He wrapped an arm around his wife and thankfully didn’t notice Jay’s not so subtle flinch.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, Jay had once again sat down in the seat adjacent to Hailey’s bed while Anne and Eldon pulled chairs up next to her. Jay’s knee bounced nervously, he was wondering how long it took to buy a sandwich and where Trudy was. He wanted to leave and remove himself from the terrible silence, but the thought of Hailey waking up to face her father without him was as appealing as drinking battery acid. Instead, he sent a quick text to Adam, hoping he would come and share his wit and charm with the group.

Jay: Hailey’s parents are here…

Less than five seconds later, he replied.

Ruzey Ruzek: Are you serious?

Jay: Deadass

Jay: I’m gonna kill him if you don’t come stop me

Ruzey Ruzek: Don’t do that…

Ruzey Ruzek: A hospital is a terrible place to kill someone

Ruzey Ruzek: If you are going to murder him, put a little more effort in. For me?

Jay rolled his eyes, he was thankful for his best friend who was obviously trying to distract him. He also took notice of the fact that yet again, Adam had changed his contact information to something stupid.

Jay: I hate you

Adam Ruzek: No you don’t

Adam Ruzek: You love me

Jay: Whatever

Adam Ruzek: Love you too bestie ;)

Jay: Stop being a little shit pls

Jay: This is not good

Adam Ruzek: I know

Adam Ruzek: Let me talk to Kim and then I’ll come down there

Jay: Thanks

Adam Ruzek: Ofc

Jay let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relaxing into his chair a bit more. At least with Adam here he wouldn’t have to bear the hostility alone.

“So. Jay, tell me about yourself.” Eldon said, turning to face him. “Anne made it sound like you and Hailey are very close.”

Jay leaned forward in his chair, deciding that a faked conversation was better than deafening silence. Plus, he couldn’t risk Hailey’s dad thinking he knew anything, he didn’t want to put her or her mom in harms way. “We are, she’s my best friend.” He said honestly, with a soft smile.

“I hope you have only pure intentions with my daughter…” Eldon threatened, a eyebrow cocked.

Jay fought off the urge to scoff, “The purest.”

Eldon nodded, feigning relief. “Good.” Jay was convinced he was only speaking to keep up appearances. “You play any sports son?”

“Baseball.” Jay said courtly, his own father wouldn’t own up to him being his son, he didn’t need anyone calling him that, let alone an abusive arse.

“Hailey’soldest brother went to college on a baseball scholarship!” Anne said, piping in. Jay gave her a big smile, happy to transfer the conversation to her.

“Really? Where?” Jay asked, genuinely interested.

Anne beamed,“Indiana State.”

“Wow, you must be proud.” Jay said.

“We are.” Eldon cut in, a little too harsh for Jay’s liking.

Just like that the almost friendly conversation was over and the silence returned, Jay was about to text Adam to ask him where he was when Trudy came bounding into the room holding a pizza box. Her jaw dropped and Jay stood immediately. Her eyes met his and then focused back on the couple in front of her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

…

Kevin sat in the locker room with Matt Casey and Connor Rhodes after their saturday morning practice. He hated that he couldn’t be with his friends at the hospital, but football season stopped for no man and he was counting on impressing college scouts a year early.

“You coming to the party tonight?” Connor askes. Kevin shakes his head and Connor rolls his eyes. “Of course you aren’t, you haven’t been to any in months. Matt?”

Matt shakes his head as well. “Can’t, I have a date with Sylvie.”

Before Connor can respond, Kevin claps his teammate and friend on the back. “Man, you’ve been crushing on her for like a year now.” He teases and Matt smiles big. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Matt says, “I’m really excited, really nervous and really worried that I’m going to screw this up.”

Kevin is taken aback by the blondes sudden outburst of transparency, Matt wasn’t usually one for sharing his feelings. Anxiety must be his truth serum. “Where are you taking her?”

“Molly’s, you know it? I think it’s perfect, not too fancy but enough to make a good impression. Plus, the owner works with Wallace.” Matt explained and Kevin knew exactly what place Matt was talking about. He had gone there for Kim’s birthday last year with the rest of their friends.

Kevin picked up his bag and waved goodbye to Connor who was heading out. “Sounds perfect man, she’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Matt said, he grabbed his bag and followed Kevin out of the locker room. “I heard about Kim and Hailey, how are they doing?”

Kevin sighed, “Last I heard, Hailey hadn’t woken up yet and Kim was doing good, no hearing loss like they had expected.”

“Damn, that’s great about Kim, but Hailey’s not out of the woods yet?” Matt asked.

Kevin shrugged, “Not that I know of.” There was a hint of sadness to his voice unrelated to his friends current state. The balance in the group was off and Kevin was taking the brunt of it. When Erin was alive, there were six of them. He always had someone to pair off with whether it was Adam, Kim or Hailey. Now there were five and as happy as he was for his friends, it was hard being the fifth wheel.

He and Kim had been friends for years, that’s how he was brought into the group, it just happened that he knew Adam and Jay and clicked with them well. He was a little jealous if he was being honest, not only did he not always have the time to be totally invested like the rest of them, but any time he did he felt like he was being held at an arms length. Kevin wanted to have a person, like Hailey was to Jay (anyone who wasn’t blind could see it, and even then they probably knew) or Kim was to Adam. He had been interested in Nadia at first, but her obvious feelings for Jay caused his to fade fast. Besides it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, Erin got rid of her at the first sign of weakness.

Kevin bid goodbye to Matt and made his way to his old jeep, still wrapped up in his own thoughts. He felt guilty placing blame on a dead girl, but he couldn’t help but think that all of this was Erin’s fault. He wasn’t usually the one to displace emotion, he grew up in a household where they were almost too out in the open. However, his hatred for Erin--or the dramatics that surrounded her for that matter--was increasing by the day. He had no idea how she got herself in the situation she was in and he sure a hell didn’t understand how she dragged the rest or them and their families into it.

When he got home he found Vinessa playing in the family room and his mom in the kitchen. He said hello to his mother and told her about practice before sitting down to play with Vinessa. She had a barbie in her hand, and Kevin knew for a fact that she didn’t have any barbies. Taking a closer look over her shoulder, Kevin realized that it was no normal doll. It looked exactly like Erin.

…

Jay dropped his gaze to his phone and shot Adam a quick text.

Jay: Abort abort

Jay: Trudy is here

Eldon slowly stands and gives his sister-in-law a fake smile. “Checking on my only daughter, since you were so forth coming on her condition when you called.”

Trudy set the pizza down on the small table near the door and took a step toward him. “You are not welcome here. You need to leave.”

Jay looked back and forth between them, trying to decipher where this was going. “What are you going to do Trudy? Call security? I haven’t done anything…”

“Like hell…” Jay said under his breath, Eldon’s head whipped around and Jay realized that his thought that slipped had not been as quiet as he hoped.

Eldon was seething, Jay was convinced that he had literal steam coming out of his ears. “What did you say?” He took a step towards Jay and Anne reached out to grab his arm.

“Eldon--”

He ripped his arm from her grip, “Don’t touch me.” Anne backed away, much to Jay and Trudy’s approval. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Jay took a moment to consider her next move, he had already gotten himself into to some deep shit so he might as well go full send. “You have no right to smack around your wife or your daughter.” The last part came out more spat than in sentence form and Eldon clenched his fists.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: lay the kid in front of him out and high tail it out of there, or, play dumb and make him look like a idiot. He went with the latter. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

Jay scoffed, glancing at Anne who becoming one with the wall. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, there was no doubt that he had put the woman in danger due to his anger getting the best of him. “Sure, of course you don’t. You don’t anything about the injury that damaged Hailey’s body so bad that she needed a pacemaker?” He was almost yelling and a look of shock crossed Eldon’s face. He guessed that he thought no one knew.

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” Eldon grumbled, turning to face his wife.

Jay stood his ground, determined to have the last word. “Leave.”

Eldon shot him a glare like he had never seen before and stormed out of the room. Jay let out a sigh of relief along with Trudy, who had jumped out of the doorway to make room for the brooding man. Anne began to gather her things, grabbing her purse and pressing a chaste kiss to her daughters forehead. Jay had forgotten Hailey was still there in the midst of all the craziness. Anne reached the threshold before Trudy spoke up. “You don’t have to leave with him.” Anne gave her a teary shrug and disappeared down the hallway.

Trudy collapsed into one of the chairs they had abandoned so quickly. “I’m sorry.” Jay said softly, his guilt eating him up.

Trudy rann her hands down her face, “You didn’t do anything wrong Jay, you did what you thought was best.” Jay shrugged, her approval doing very little to calm the pit in his stomach. “But Hailey can never know they were here.”

Jay nods, “Yeah okay.” He took a seat next to Trudy, placing his hand over Hailey’s. He wished he could erase the past few hours, and he wished Hailey’s beautiful blue eyes would open do the pressure on his chest would lift. He was ready for the nightmare of waiting to be over.

Hailey felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks when she woke up, she opened her eyes and quickly shut them, groaning at the bright lights.

Jay shot forward in his seat, “Hailey?” He gripped her hand a little harder and pulled his chair closer to the bed.

She forced herself to open her eyes again, squinting. She recognized his voice and smiled softly. “Hey.” She croaked out, her throat dry from being asleep for so long. Hailey looked around the room and slightly nudged her head towards the pitcher of water beside her bed. Jay got the message and jumped up, getting her a glass. She gulped it down quickly, feeling a bit more like herself. Trudy announced that she was going to find a doctor, giving the two of them the room.

“You scared me.” Jay said honestly, he had grown another set of balls since that morning. “How are you feeling?”

Hailey attempted to shrug, but it came out more of an awkward shake. “Okay, I guess.”

Jay nodded, taking the next few moments to remind her what happened and explain their story. Thankfully Hailey remembered everything, right up to hearing his voice before she passed out.

“How long was I out?” Hailey asked.

Jay sighed,“Since you got here last night, I’ll let the doctor explain everything.”

“Everything?” Hailey asked, panicking a bit. She didn’t know the extent of her injuries and she had been in this position once before. It wasn’t fun.

“Hey, hey.” Jay said, brushing a piece of tangled blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

Hailey nodded, blinking back tears and deciding to change the subject. “How long have you been here?”

Jay grinned sheepishly, “Six this morning…”

Hailey gasped, “When did you leave last night?”

“One.” Hailey was about to chew him out, but he beat her to it. “I know exactly what you are going to say and don’t you dare. I wanted to be here, I couldn’t have been anywhere else. I was going crazy at home when I was there.”

Hailey blushed at his words, she hated that she was reacting to him this way because of their obvious situation, but she couldn't help it. The thought of him sitting in her hospital room for hours on end made her heart swell, as twisted as it was.

“Let’s see what’s on TV…” Jay coughed, clicking the button on the remote.

Hailey nodded, glancing past him. “Is that pizza?”

Jay laughed and got up to get the box. He knew she probably wasn’t supposed to eat, but after his confession he would give her any distraction she wanted.

Hailey turned her head to face the TV that was currently playing the local news. It was a press conference, the man speaking looked familiar and he was wearing a crisp uniform that she recognized. She had seen her uncle in it before. She read the heading on the bottom of the screen.

Benjamin Severide - Office of Fire Investigation

Fire that potentially claimed the life of local teen Erin Lindsay has officially been ruled an arson.

Hailey’s eyes widened at the name. Severide. That was all the confirmation that Hailey needed, she knew she was right. Kelly’s dad worked in the very department that was controlling the investigation, if he was a part of it, they could make it go away. “Jay, look.” Jay glanced at the screen and by the look on his face, Hailey knew they were thinking the same thing. Someway, somehow, Kelly Severide was at the middle of all of it, and Hailey was going to find out exactly how.

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 3

The Rift

Ichigo wonders, more often than not, why it is that even though he can see ghosts, he never sees the ones he wants to. His mother, and now his friends from Chaldea. He can’t see them anymore. The singularities are gone, and humanity has returned to the way it always was. But it’s missing so many people, from his own point of view. Olga Marie isn’t bound to him anymore. She’s moved on. And the rest…

Ichigo sits in front of his mother's grave with his dad at his side. Karin and Yuzu have gone for drinks, leaving them alone for the time being. Rukia, and Kon too, sit on a hill, watching over them and waiting for trouble. He doesn’t want to admit it. He’s carried the guilt in his heart for so long, but now… it’s possible that Rukia is right. That the reason his mother is dead is because…

“Hey, old man,” Ichigo looks towards his dad, who’s been acting weird since he’s come back. More than once he’s caught him just staring. Like he’s trying to figure out what changed his kid so much. As if they were ever that close in the first place. Ichigo let’s him. There’s no way for him to understand what’s changed Ichigo into the person he is now. It’s not something that can be easily explained, and in any case the Mage's Association was pretty clear. No one is supposed to know that magic exists. Including his own family. Anyone who finds out must be killed.

“Yeah?” Isshin looks his way, away from the grave that reads his mother's name.

“About mom. Could she ever see ghosts, do you know?” he looked right at him. Testing Isshin, watching his eyes. He’d never noticed before…

That his dad was hiding behind a dozen walls. And they all started to come up when Ichigo asked his question. Ichigo has spent years with master assassins and traitorous knights. He can see clearly now, for the first time ever. His dad isn’t such a colossal goof off after all.

“Why are you asking this all of a sudden?” he asks and it hurts . It hurts more than Ichigo thought, to know that he was keeping this secret for so long. To know that he could have told him, that both of them could have told him when he was young and he couldn't tell who was alive and who was dead, that he wasn’t alone in it. Karin had always had him, and they’d learned together after their mom had died, who was real and who was not.

Why? Why had they hid these things from him? And could he trust their dad to tell them the truth now?

“... No reason. I was just thinking about her.”

No, he decides, looking back at the headstone. He can’t trust his old man to tell him the truth. So, he’ll have to learn it some other way.

Sometimes, Isshin looks as his son and he sees a complete stranger.

He’s still brash and angry, and he would die for Yuzu and Karin, might have while Isshin wasn’t looking, but he’s not himself. He isn’t the same son that had climbed onto a plane for what should have been a simple job months ago. He’d only been gone for a week. How could he have changed so much?

He was taller, for one thing, and yeah teenagers have growth spurts but they don’t grow three inches in seven days. Their hair doesn’t grow out in a week either, and they don’t get so strong or so self assured that fast.

More than that, his son has this look in his eyes…

A terrible age, even though he’s only fifteen. He looks at them like he’s afraid they’ll disappear. He looks like he’s always waiting for something. For something to go wrong, for the other shoe to drop.

Even before Rukia had shown up and given her powers over to him, and then started living in his son’s closet of all places, he’d been the same. On edge. And the way he’d greeted them…

Ichigo did a lot of things when Isshin attacked him. Hugging him wasn’t one of them.

On top of all that, he’d gone to see Kisuke, to ask what was going on in the spirit world, where he could no longer see, and it turns out that Kisuke agrees. There’s something strange about Ichigo. He’s stronger than he should be, and stronger than he ever was, even without Rukia. And he doesn’t know what exactly happened between Kisuke and Ichigo, but it’s enough that now the old captain is interested in him.

It’s not nearly as comforting as Isshin wishes it was. When Kisuke got involved, things rarely went well. No matter how good his intentions were.

Then he asked about Masaki, and Isshin had faltered.

It was time, it was the perfect time for him to tell him the truth. To sit him down and explain what had happened all those years ago, and tell him about the kind of heritage he had, and what it might mean. He’s wondered, whose power did he get? Isshin, or Masaki. Shinigami, or Quincy? Or both? Or hollow? It’s hard to tell.

But he chickened out. The words got stuck and the world closed off and Ichigo turned away from him. The moment was lost, and now Isshin doesn’t know what to do. It’s so much easier raising daughters than sons.

* *

By the time his ridiculous duel with Uryu is over, Ichigo is willing to bet money that his mother was a Quincy.

Ichigo ends up sitting on a bench, breathing fast but he’s not so exhausted nor so beat up as Ishida, who sits patiently while Ichigo carefully stitches up his arm. It’s easy enough to pass this particular skill off as one he learned from his father and not knee deep in a war, trying to help Roman with the dozens of injured Chaldea staff.

“Isn’t your dad a doctor? Wouldn’t it be better to have him do than let me?” Ichigo finds himself asking They’re lucky Uryu had a needle and thread on his person, even if they did have to bend the needle in an awkward, sloppy approximation of the ones used for real stitches.

It’ll do for now.

“It’s best if my father doesn’t know about this,” he says simply.

“Oh yeah?” Ichigo grins at him. “I take it that means he doesn’t want you doing this kind of stuff then.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Uryu sniffed at him stubbornly. Ichigo glowers at him, and pulls the next stitch harder until Uryu yelps. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Of course it’s my business. This whole stunt that you pulled was insanely dangerous.”

“Are you admitting that you’re weaker than I am,” Uryu lifts his chin, his nose in the air, and Ichigo has to stop himself from karate chopping him in his throat.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m weaker or not! What matters is that we’re not the only people in town that you could have gotten killed with this stunt! Didn’t you notice? There’s hollows that disappeared that neither one of us took out.”

He snaps the thread and grabs Uryu by the front of his shirt, watching his blue eyes go wide and realization dawn for what is apparently the first time. “That means other people are fighting. Other people might be dying. My sister has high spirit levels too you know?! When you pull shit like this you’re putting the lives of everyone around you into the same danger, without even telling them about it! How can someone with top grades be so damn stupid?!”

Ichigo forces himself to lean back, anger still bubbling under his skin. All this trouble because Uryu hates shinigami, and Ichigo isn’t even a real one.

“ Listen ,” he leans in , forcing Uryu to bend backwards over the back of the bench, “I’ll fight you one on one any time you want. But this hollow fighting isn’t a game. And if you ever put other people in danger unnecessarily again, I’ll beat your goddamn face in.”

“Y-you!” Uryu pushes against his chest but Ichigo is immobile, stone and still.

“Do you understand, Uryu Ishida?”

“I. Yes,” he says at last, looking down and away. Only then does Ichigo let him go, leaning back and letting out a grunt when it pulls at his shoulders. He’d over strained himself, just a little bit.

“Hey, Kon!” Ichigo waves his body snatcher over to the pair. “Gimme my body back already, huh?”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Kon whines, but he sits on the bench and lets Ichigo slide back in without a fuss. Ichigo pulls Uryu up off of the bench and gives him a shove.

“C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need you to do that!”

“Well I’m doing it anyways. You’re injured, what if there’s still a few more hollows lingering around, huh? Just shut up and start walking.”

Uryu scowls, but starts walking forwards anyhow, with Ichigo in his shadow. During his whole trauma speech and background story Ichigo’s mind had been turning over and over. His dad was a quincy too, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and if Uryu was to be believed, they were the last of them.

Goat-face isn’t going to answer his questions, so Ichigo follows Uryu home, to a house that far too big for just two men alone. He feels old, walking into it. It’s fanciful, but he’s seen the theatres of Rome and the courts of King Arthur.

Ichigo will never be a sensor, but he’s gotten used to trusting the sense inside him that says when someone else is around, and even though it took him a while he’s good enough to be able to follow it if he has to. He didn’t know about the spirit ribbons. Ichigo is used to being clueless, but he’s not stupid. He files the information away for later, and quietly memorizes that feeling of Uryu. It’s more like a taste, clean and sharp, and vaguely like citrus.

His father is much the same. And he is utterly unimpressed by Ichigo arriving on his doorstep with his son in tow.

His eyes are colder than ice, not exactly something Ichigo would want in any doctor he has.

“Hey, old man,” Ichigo raised a hand and, with his usual level of tact, asked ever-so-discreetly, “Did you know my mom?”

* * *

“Do you know where you are?��

The scent of roses and daffodils and the feeling of soft worn wool brushing against his cheek. A ribbon made of magic brushing his nose.

Ichigo opens his eyes and looks into a pale blue sky, wisps of cotton candy clouds stretching across from one horizon to the next.

“I am in a dream,” he says dutifully.

“Very good Dolores.”

Ichigo punches him in the stomach, sending the mage doubled over in a fit of coughing and laughing together. A smile that’s far too mischevious to be soft is aimed at him.

“You have an amazon prime subscription out here?” Ichigo asked, sitting up slowly. The tower still floats, through the sky at the end of the world.

“Well yes. I do run a blog, you know?” though it’s said with a straight face he can see a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, where even eternal youth hasn’t been able to curb laugh lines. He’s good humor, and a good company.

“Seriously?!”

That gets a laugh out of the mage of all mages. He lays back in the flowers that climb and bloom, thriving in his very presence. He is life and light and mischief, a watcher and a strange sort of guardian.

“Well yes. I can’t spend all of my time merely watching people. The internet made things much more fun! Humans are such innovative creatures, even without magic to help them along.”

Ichigo nodded along with him. “Does that mean that you can email me instead of hijacking my beauty sleep?”

“Oh, you mean you don’t enjoy my company, oh great Master of Humanity?”

Ichigo scowls at him, but there’s a smile trying to pull at his mouth. He struggles to squash it, and he can tell from the glint in his companions eyes that he fails.

“Stop calling me that,” he says for a millionth time.

A firm hand pushes him back into the flowers, under the warmth of the sun in the soft crush of fragrant petals. There’s no perfume that could ever compare. This is a strange place, a beautiful cage, and Ichigo doesn’t fully understand how he can be here and home at the same time. Not that that’s new. He’s been in two places at once more times than he cares to count, and he still only vaguely understands how it’s possible.

“I understand that your life is interesting once more.” The mage stretches out beside him, taller than he and cloaked elegantly in his same old robes. He’s showy and modest at once and it hurts Ichigo’s eyes to look at him for long.

Ichigo groans. “If you mean my entire existence is one giant clusterfuck then yeah. It’s real ‘interesting’ again. But I’m not time travelling again yet so…”

“Poor little master. Your life is so very hard…”

“I’ll hit you,” Ichigo threatened. “Master mage, but a shit fighter. I can take you.”

The laugh that he is granted is bells on the wind.

“True, true. But I believe that things will get worse before they get better. Perhaps you should begin your mage craft training once more.”

“You know I always sucked at that. I could only use real magic if I had a mystic code. Every other time, it exploded in my face. I’m a secondrate mage, that’s how it’s always been,” he says it all simply.

“That is true… Isn’t it funny how that works out? A boy who cannot cast a single spell without assistance ends up defeating the most powerful mage in history. You really are a remarkable human, Ichigo.”

“And you’re trying to get me to do something for you, aren’t you?”

“Aha! You do know me! Yes, I need you to mail something very important to me…”

“You get mail here?!”

* * * *

It’s the tenth time he’s been thrown into the dirt today.

A normal person would have given up and packed it in. A normal person would have humbly accepted that the strength of these titans was beyond their abilities to keep up with.

Instead, Ichigo stands again.

He picks up his borrowed practice sword, dulled so no one can get hurt, and faces his opponent once more.

Mash, Cu, and Medusa, his constant companions, watch him narrow his eyes and plant his feet again.

“One more time, Nero!”

“He’s stubborn, if nothing else,” Medusa mused, not quite out of his earshot. Cu nods his agreement, his eyes never wavering.

“Tha’ll help him,” he said simply. Ichigo didn’t know why but his accent seemed to change just a little each time he opened his mouth. Sometimes he was barely understandable. Sometimes it is perfect english. Or whatever language the magic was auto-translating it to. Japanese for Ichigo, english for Mash, and probably latin for Nero and the surrounding soldiers.

“ ‘He’ can still hear you!” He glared halfheartedly at the pair of Servants, who looked perfectly innocent. The longer he was around them, the more familiar he was with the small changes in disposition and expression, their likes and dislikes. And, to his eternal surprise, the feeling of them.

Cu Cullain felt like trees. Like thick moss on a stone, and early morning mist rolling through thick, ageless trees. His presence was as familiar as an old, trusted hound. They’d only been together for a few months, but his spellwork and the steady draw of his mana felt as natural as breathing to him.

Medusa was the deep ocean, power beneath every surface but beautiful to behold. A crash of waves against the stony shore, her every touch fleeting and feather light while her chains lashed with horror and the chthonic strength born in the age of gods. She was the smooth brush of scales against his wrist, the flash of teeth behind a sweet smile, and gold eyes in the darkness that Ichigo alone did not flinch from.

Theirs was a tenuous relationship. She kept looking for him to stab her back, to cut her head and use it as his weapon. Ichigo was still half expecting to wake up as a statue one day. They only had the barest trust between them but…

She hasn’t let him down yet, and Ichigo endeavours to repay that much if he can.

He raises his sword and barely blocks a vicious strike from Nero. She was shorter than him by far, but he had no chance matching her for raw strength. Or speed. Or her damn near perfect swordplay.

“Focus on the performance at hand,” she orders, her mouth curved in a strange smile. Ichigo didn’t totally understand her. They’d been travelling with her for over a month now, on the way to reach what would one day be london.

“Right,” Ichigo lunges for her, his strikes quick and hard. He’s not worried about hurting her since he can’t even hit her.

It’s graceful, elegant, and nearly effortless for her to knock him flat on his ass again, smacking the flat of her blade against his chest so hard he sees spots. He’s left sucking desperately. His nails bite into the dirt and his grip on his sword tightens until the leather wrapped around the hilt creaks.

“That’s enough for today, I think,” Nero decides. Ichigo wants to argue, but he doesn’t have any breath for it. So he groans like a dying whale and lays in the dirt, his hands shaking, his body refusing to move at all.

Nero lowers herself to the ground, on her knees beside him and how strange is that? A goddamn emperor kneeling with him in the dirt. A demi-goddess, and a druid, and a demi-servant. And Ichigo, just human. But Nero is human too. She’s as alive as he is and she is wiping the fucking floor with him.

“You’re a - fuck,” he wheezes and finally gets his elbows under him so he can sit up.

“Now that’s very rude to say, considering that I’ve been training you out of the goodness of my own heart,” Nero sniffs at him, tilting her chin to the sky.

Why did Ichigo always get stuck with these kinds of bewildering people? Everyone he knew was so weird…

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Nero.” A perfectionist and slave driver, but Ichigo was getting better every day. By the time they reached their destination, maybe he’d even be able to land a single blow per bout. Ichigo had never expected to get along with a roman emperor of all people, but even outside of fighting Ichigo has always been, if only mildly, interested in the arts, and Nero only stokes those embers.

Nero smiles beatifically at him. “You have the makings of a fine performer. Even without an Imperial Privilege. I enjoy teaching you.”

Her smile is interrupted by a pinch of her brows and purse of her lips.

Ah, another headache.

It’s very strange, trying to reconcile the young woman in front of Ichigo with the tyrant from history. She’s put her people ahead of her at every turn, and helped Ichigo and his friends. She’s under no obligation to teach Ichigo swordplay but she does, even after long days on the march.

At the same time, there’s a reason Boudica is only her reluctant ally. Nero cared for her people but she was, in another word, a merciless bitch when she put her mind to it. But she was on their side, for now, and Ichigo is learning not to look gift horses in the mouth. So he gets up and goes to her side, and shows her how to press her fingers into pressure points on the back of her neck, and hold it for a few seconds until the headache goes away.

He’s made an archduke for that one.

* * * * *

A rift forms in the Kurosaki household.

It’s always been there, a cut stitches tenuously together by blood and loyalty, and reinforced by love, but now it’s split.

A gaping chasm, and Ichigo doesn’t know what to do with it.

It feels like it’s not something he can bridge. Like this is one obstacle that even he cannot conquer. Master of Chaldea, Final Beacon for Humanity. Commander of Heroes, Beloved, the First Guardian.

He is a hundred things but at the end of the day he is still.

A teenager.

Fifteen and eighteen and four thousand at once.

His dad had lied to him. If not directly, then by omission. For years, for so very long he’d let Ichigo hold the responsibility of Masaki’s life in his hands, had kept quiet when he grew frightened and dark and closed off from the living, so preoccupied was he with the dead.

Never once did he offer reason. Never once did he show his care or cradle his son, or tell him that the monsters were real and it wasn’t his fault .

Not once, in six, seven, eight, nine years did he tell Ichigo that he was not alone. That he and Karin were merely Masaki’s children. That they were born of quincy blood, even if that never put a bow in their hands.

Half the blood means half the power,” That was what Ryuuken had said. And how sad is it that Ichigo had had to hunt down a veritable stranger, once who’s son had spent the entire day bickering and competing and hating his guts, to get answers from?

“ Does my old man know all of this?” Ichigo had asked.

Ryuuken was honest, even if he didn’t want to get into the tangled web of family drama. “Yes,” He’d said, “ But it’s more complicated than that. Isshin has the entire story.”

And he wouldn’t tell Ichigo.

He didn’t tell him on the bloody banks of the river, when a child wandered in desperate hope of finding a phantom of his mother.

He did not tell a ten year old at the foot of a grave marker. He kept silent at eleven, at twelve, thirteen, fourteen.

Fifteen. Under the watching grave of his mother Ichigo had asked. And Isshin had not told.

The house is tense like it hasn’t been since Ichigo got back. It’s tense like a storm, cracking along the edges of the walls and windows. Tense like there’s no coming back from this and Ichigo cannot take the building static in his veins or the hissing of betrayal in his ears, like snakes.

He misses Medusa, suddenly. She would take his pound of flesh for him and then some.

Ichigo go knows, for certain, that if he stays in this house he’ll go mad. Yuzu and Karin, they know something is up. Ichigo’s pretty sure Karin saw the hollow, Grand Fisher, at the grave site. Dead now by his blade, but the vengeance tastes like ash on his tongue. His mother is still dead. His father is still a liar.

His sisters still love them both.

Ichigo loves them, too. More than anything in the world, he fought gods and demons for their sake. For them to be born for them to have a future.

But he can’t spend all of his time at home, and Chad is starting to ask questions that Ichigo has a difficult time answering.

Not ‘was that a demon ghost you just punched in the face’ hard. That answer is ease. ‘Yes’.

But ‘is everything alright at home’ hard. Chad had asked the first time he saw Isshin launch himself at his son in a surprise attack and he’s about to ask it again, Ichigo can feel it in his bones.

So he makes a phone call.

The rest of the world will never know what they did.

The world will not know about him or Mash or Roman or Olga Marie, or the countless others that built Chealdea and kept her running. They’ll never know how much they fought, how much they bled, how much they sacrificed for the sake of the future.

It’s fine with him.

But there are some who know. The Mage's Association, and the United Nations. And a select few people from the Clock Tower in London, where Ichigo has already been offered schooling and job. They know that he stopped the incineration of humanity.

And they owe him.

Three years of pay for working in Chaldeas, and even more for everything else he’d done.

He finds a backpack while he waits for a familiar voice to answer.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” There's a shuffle of sheets and a groan in the background and Ichigo barely pays it any mind as he stuffs a hoodie into his bag and goes looking for his running shoes.

“Not a clue,” he said blandly. “But listen, Waver. I need a favor.”

* * * * * *

#Ichigo Kurosaki #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #well sorta #bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach/fate grand order #olga marie animusphere

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter Four

Summary: In which Nesta and Elain are introduced to the Inner Circle. Note: Read it on AO3 here! Warnings: mention of eating disorder, weight loss Bittersweet Masterlist

September

Nesta was staring at her reflection when Elain knocked on her bedroom door.

“Feyre’s here!”

“I’ll be right out,” she called back.

Nesta directed her gaze back to the mirror. She didn’t know what to make of what she saw.

Her face was jaunt, the shadows under her eyes resembling purple bruises. Her face had always been angular, but never so bony. Her thick golden hair now hung limply, greasy strands falling into her face. Nesta hadn’t showered in days, and her breath reeked thanks to a lack of nutrients. She was the color of a ghost, nearly blending into her surroundings with her tiny presence. Nesta was shrinking into herself little by little. Until nothing remained.

She had never been so underweight, not even when their mom forgot to cook most nights. At Nesta’s normal weight, her toned thighs touched each other. Rolls formed on her stomach when she bent over. She looked like a woman.

But as she stared at the mirror, Nesta looked like a girl.

It wasn’t intentional. Gods, she’d seen what that sort of thing did to people. Elain struggled with an eating disorder since she was thirteen.

Those couple years were brutal. Their dad was emotionally absent, their mother gone. Feyre was working every day. Nesta did as much as she could, but… there’s only so much she could do. Their family couldn’t afford a therapist or nutritionist. Elain didn’t want to get better.

Then, Elain passed out walking home from school. That’s when Nesta had enough. She couldn’t stand to watch her sister completely disappear right in front of her eyes. So, she talked to Elain’s guidance counselor, Alis, who was the only qualified person there. The other counselors did shit. All they cared about was academics and nothing more. Alis gave Nesta pamphlets for free group therapy. Nesta marched home and told Elain about it.

She refused for a month.

Nesta had never seen Elain so angry and hopeless during those few weeks. Angry at Nesta for getting into her business. Hopeless in the way that she didn’t particularly care what happened to her.

Then, one day, Elain found Nesta sobbing on the floor of their bedroom. When Elain took a step closer, Nesta snapped. She screamed. Gods, did she scream. She begged – begged – Elain to stop killing herself. Nesta was desperate, and she knew the only way Elain would agree to get help was if Nesta asked her to do it for her. And so Elain agreed.

It took a long time; recovery isn’t a linear process in the slightest. But with time, Elain healed. She healed until she was doing it for herself, not just for Nesta. And now… now, Elain cherished her body. She’d once told Nesta that the intrusive thoughts still surfaced, but they weren’t nearly as loud as they used to be.

Nesta’s sudden weight loss… it wasn’t the same. It was the depression that was gnawing at her very flesh, the guilt that was eating her away until it hit bone. She didn’t care to eat. She didn’t care to do anything.

Elain had been trying to get her to eat every day. Three meals a day. She had always been a fabulous cook, baking and cooking until the sun set. Nesta wished she could stomach Elain’s food, but she felt as if she would throw up if she consumed anything more than a piece of fruit.

Nesta sighed with resignation. Turning her back to the mirror, she walked out of her room to find Feyre and Elain lounging in the kitchen. Elain’s profile was backlit by the window above the sink, highlighting her light hair.

“What do you want?” Nesta asked as she approached them, taking a seat on the stool. She’d completely lost energy during the past few weeks, and any semblance of patience was easily lost on her.

Feyre ignored her brash tone. “How are classes going?”

“Fine.” She didn’t bother elaborating. There wasn’t much to tell anyway.

“You look thin,” Feyre commented, running her eyes over Nesta’s barely visible body.

“Are you here to criticize my appearance or can I retreat back into my room?”

“It was just an observation, Nesta,” Feyre told her. Then, she addressed both of them. “My friends and I are having a dinner party tomorrow night at my house. It’s a small tradition that we do every other week. Do you guys want to come?”

“Yes!” Elain jumped up excitedly. She gripped Feyre’s shoulders, the latter smiling widely. “I finally have a reason to dress up!”

Feyre unraveled herself from Elain’s grip and turned to Nesta. “Are you in?”

“I’m invited?” She couldn’t help but ask. Feyre hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to spend time with Nesta. It wasn’t like Feyre was cruel to her; they’d simply become strangers after years of no communication. Feyre had shown Elain around town, but that courtesy didn’t extend to Nesta.

Feyre blew out a breath of air and nodded. “I want to try to fix… this.” She gestured between them.

Nesta would have laughed if it weren’t for the nervousness in Feyre’s eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m ready to meet your friends quite yet.”

I know I'm not ready.

Nesta had been doing better since the semester started; that much was true. Even so, she rarely talked to anyone, save the obligatory conversations with professors as well as her T.A.’s. She only left the apartment for classes and never lingered on campus to study or socialize. Considering it was a challenge to talk with her peers, Nesta was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to make conversation with her estranged sister’s friends.

“It would mean so much to me if you met them, especially Rhysand.”

“I said another time.” Nesta’s voice was hard.

Feyre squeezed the bridge of her nose as she tried to reign in her temper. “Please, Nesta? It would be good to get out of the apartment.” She looked resigned, as if she knew Nesta would refuse. “You don’t even have to say anything. No one there will question your silence, I promise. They’re all easygoing.”

She wasn’t asking much of Nesta. In fact, Feyre was asking for the bare minimum. And as much as Nesta dreaded the idea of being surrounded by a group of complete strangers…

You need them as much as they need you. Her father’s words echoed in her head.

Nesta nodded. “Okay.”

And with that, the tether between them began to mend.

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

Feyre and Rhysand’s house lay at the edge of the city, the stars brighter without the light pollution of the city. Elain marveled at the mountainous backdrop as she and Nesta pulled up to their spacious home in Elain’s old Beetle. Nesta’s stomach twisted when she noticed several cars parked in the driveway. She should turn around and return home, she wasn’t ready for –

“Let’s go inside!” Elain sang as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She wore an off-the-shoulder pink dress, the pastel color complimenting her fair skin. The soft fabric fell just below her knees, a gentle breeze caressing the skirt of the dress. She was stunning. Nesta had told her as much when Elain emerged from her room.

Nesta, on the other hand, had chosen to wear ripped jeans and a black hoodie. How she and Elain were related, Nesta had no idea.

They strolled to the front door, Elain bouncing with each step. She’d gushed throughout the entire car ride about the stories Feyre had told her about Rhysand, which somehow led to Elain rambling for ten minutes about her dream wedding.

Gods, Nesta had never met a bigger hopeless romantic.

Sounds of laughter could be heard from inside as they stepped onto the front porch. Elain didn’t hesitate as she knocked three times.

Feyre answered the door just seconds later. Her golden hair tumbled to her shoulders, an easy smile on her face. Nesta had never seen her sister look so happy. She was glowing, and it wasn’t because of the warm lights behind her.

“You made it!” Feyre exclaimed happily, opening the door wider to let them inside. She noticed the dish in Elain’s hands as they walked past her. “You didn’t have to bring anything, El.”

Elain only scoffed as Feyre closed the door behind them. “Like you would have been able to stop me.”

Just as Feyre was about to address Nesta, a few people – her friends, Nesta presumed – entered the foyer.

“Everyone, these are my sisters, Elain and Nesta.” Feyre gestured to them as they stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Elain and Nesta, this is everyone.”

A tall, dark haired man approached them, sliding his hand onto Feyre’s lower back.

Nesta knew who it was before he spoke.

His violet eyes sparkled. “I’m Rhysand,” he reached in to shake their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you both.”

Elain really wasn’t lying about his eyes.

He directed a blindingly white smile at Elain to which she returned. But when his gaze slid to Nesta, his grin slipped slightly, eyes narrowing.

What the hell?

“Well, isn’t this lovely,” a seductive voice drawled. Nesta’s attention was grabbed by the tiny girl who’d spoken, her hair sleek and short. She was standing at the kitchen table with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at Rhysand, and a raised brow that seemed to say, Really?

“I’m Amren.” She flashed Elain and Nesta a wicked grin. “Excuse Rhys’s poor manners.”

Nesta liked her already.

“This is Azriel,” she pointed to the brooding man behind her. He nearly blended into the shadows, his presence calm and quiet. Nesta couldn’t help but notice the scarring on his hands. She instinctively pulled her sweater over her wrists.

The man – Azriel – gave them an awkward wave, his gaze hovering on Elain who returned his greeting with an equally awkward wave of her own.

“I’m Morrigan,” a raspy voice sounded from the kitchen counter. A woman sat at the breakfast bar with a wine glass in hand. Her lips were painted the same crimson color of the drink she held. “But you can call me Mor.”

Another woman stood behind her, hands playing with Mor’s blonde hair. Her skin was a dark hazelnut, waves of thick, black hair framing her face. She wore a bright smile. Together they were regal, the picture of beauty. “This is my girlfriend, Aurra.”

Aurra murmured a greeting, to which Elain reciprocated with a bubbly enthusiasm.

“There’s one more of us, Cassian, but he’s in the Marines. He’s stationed in Turkey right now,” Rhysand explained. He directed the statement towards Elain. He didn’t seem to care to acknowledge Nesta’s presence. “He’ll be back in December.”

“Oh, I completely forgot!” Feyre jumped in. She looked at both Nesta and Elain. “I meant to mention this to you guys when I visited you the other day. Cassian actually lives in the same apartment complex as y’all. I think his place is just a floor above you, so you guys will get the chance to meet each other. It’s hard, though, because he never knows when he’s going to be deployed.”

Nesta nodded absentmindedly, uninterested in these people’s lives. She doubted she would see them again, much less the friend who lived near them.

After the introductions, everyone got settled. Feyre gestured Nesta and Elain to follow her into the living room.

“Dinner isn’t ready quite yet,” she explained, sending a pointed glare where Rhysand stood. He lifted his hands up in surrender. “So, I figured we can just drink and chat until Rhys can cook us something edible.”

Mor snorted from the kitchen at Feyre’s jab. She grabbed Aurra’s hand and they waltzed to the armchair that sat next to the vast fireplace. Aurra pulled Mor onto her lap, Mor giggling as she took a sip of her wine.

Feyre offered them wine. Nesta took hers and followed everyone to the living room. Luckily, she found a seat that distanced her slightly. Feyre sat atop a stool, Rhysand behind her to keep an eye on dinner. Amren lounged on a plush floor cushion, leaving Elain and Azriel on the loveseat.

The conversation came easy. Rhysand and Mor fired question after question at Elain, to which she answered happily. Feyre kept her word; everyone respected Nesta’s space. She was faced only with the occasional, “More wine?” or “The bathroom is over there.” It gave Nesta the opportunity to sit back unbothered and listen to the conversation.

“So how do you all know each other?” Elain asked curiously, gesturing to Feyre’s friends.

Rhysand smiled with fond memories. “I lived across the street from Azriel as a kid. Cassian is my adopted brother, so we all grew up with each other. Mor over here is my cousin. We all went to the same university. Amren…” Rhysand got silent. A small, contemplative smile grew on his face. “I don’t really know how she joined us. I’m pretty sure she approached us and told us that we were now friends with her.”

Amren nodded to confirm as everyone laughed. Her smile resembled the Cheshire Cat.

“And Feyre darling,” Rhysand looked at his girlfriend lovingly. “She stumbled upon us in our sophomore year. That’s a story for another night though.”

Nesta couldn’t help but snort at his nickname for her. Feyre shot her a glare.

After dinner, which ended up being soup thanks to Rhysand’s lack of cooking skills, they all retreated back to the living area. Feyre popped open yet another bottle of wine to top everyone off, and Elain brought out the cupcakes she’d made.

As they were enjoying her sister’s dessert, which was droolworthy like every dish in the past, Elain and Azriel caught Nesta’s attention from the loveseat. She’d noticed they hadn’t spoken much beyond “Hello” and “How are you?” Nesta attributed that to Elain’s innately nervous nature, so she was surprised when she struck up a conversation with him.

“Do you go to school?” Elain asked Azriel timidly, taking a sip of wine.

His head dipped down, tufts of black hair falling into his eyes. “I, uh, work at an animal shelter.”

Elain gasped loudly. She clutched his leg and looked at him with wide eyes. “I love animals! I want to rescue a dog.” Elain began rambling about the bunnies who lived in her garden, the many strays she’d found on the street back in high school, the bird she tended to when she noticed his broken wing.

Nesta watched Azriel smile for the first time tonight. Where most men would cringe from Elain’s incessant chatter, he leaned forward with interest. Nesta could tell he was hanging on to every word that left Elain’s mouth.

As the night went on, Nesta watched the dynamic between everyone. Where Azriel was timid, Mor was booming. She was always laughing at something (usually her own joke), and she made her opinions known. Nesta respected that.

Amren, though? Amren was a creature of her own. She was snarky to her friends, but the love could easily be seen in her eyes. Nesta immediately took to her.

And Rhysand? Nesta was unnerved by how… domestic Feyre and her boyfriend were. They acted like they were a married couple, for gods’ sake. She got second hand commitment phobia just by looking at them.

When it was time for them to leave, Feyre’s friends demanded they join again next week. Elain promised they’d be back again with a giggle, and Nesta swore she saw the light in Azriel’s eyes flare.

So, once a week, the lot of them got together to hang out. Feyre and Rhysand hosted most dinners thanks to their spacious house but occasionally, Mor and Aurra offered their place which was equally gorgeous.

As the weeks passed, Nesta slowly became more comfortable with everyone – though Rhysand typically avoided her, and she did the same. Though she remained near silent during the nights, Nesta found herself looking forward to the dinner gatherings.

And perhaps, perhaps she could find a home here.

#nessian #bittersweet #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #angst #my writing #fic

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