Chapter 1: new neighbor
Chapter Text
[Fang]
It had been a wonderful week for Anon, me, and the mouse family as we made our way back from our vacation to Dino world. The drive home was stressful at times with our two young doves Amber and Greene in the backseat, but seeing them completely tuckered out after a fun-filled week made it all worth it. Their favorite part was the roller coasters, and even though Anon is afraid of heights, that dweeb still joined in on the rides with us. I can still hear his panic screams as we reached the top of the ride.
Pulling into our high-middle-class neighborhood, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. The wide streets lined with well-kept lawns and modern houses made it clear we were in a good spot. Tall trees provided shade along the sidewalks, and the quiet hum of the occasional car was the only sound breaking the calm. It was a far cry from the hustle of the theme park. I'm so glad to be living here, especially with Anon’s steady job as a sound engineer and my music royalties keeping us comfortable. We’ve managed to afford this beautiful place and still be financially set. It feels like we’re building something solid for the future.
Turning onto our street I shake Anon awake “Honey where here” it takes a couple seconds before he’s fully awake but once he is he turns to me with those deep emerald eyes of his and smiles.
*Yawn* Morning Sweet Tooth so where home?“” I can't believe he still hasn't come up with a new pet name for me once he heard that that what my mom used to call me, and still calls me on occasion “ Fist of all dweeb it’s the afternoon and second, when are you going to find a new pet name to call me “
” when it stops getting you to blush like that” He says with that signature shiteating grin that he has .
Finally pulling into our driveway, Anon carefully picks up our fourteen year old kids, who are still fast asleep, and starts to head toward the house. Just as he reaches for the door, a large moving truck pulls up across the street, followed by an orange car with anime stickers plastered across the back window. Anon freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. He glances at me briefly before his attention returns to the moving truck.
“New neighbors?” he asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the truck, clearly trying to see who was about to step out.
“I guess so?” I reply, watching the scene unfold. “Why don’t you get the kids inside while I go over and welcome them to the neighborhood?”
Anon hesitates, looking back at me. “You sure? I mean, what if they’re weird? That car gives me vibes…”
I roll my eyes, smirking. “It’s just a car, Anon. Not everyone who likes anime is weird. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They offer us a free subscription to Crunchyroll?”
He snorts, shifting the kids slightly in his arms. “Alright, but yell if they start talking about some deep lore or whatever. I’m not in the mood for an anime debate right now.”
I laugh, giving him a playful nudge. “I think I can handle it, dweeb. Go on dweeb, get the kids settled in.”
With a grin, Anon heads inside, leaving me to make my way toward the new neighbors, curiosity growing. I approach the orange car, putting on the best smile a Ptero can manage, and knock on the very tinted window. There’s a brief pause, but eventually, the window rolls down, revealing a familiar face—a greenish-yellow stegosaurus.
“Stella?!” I exclaim, completely taken aback.
“Fang!” she grins, just as surprised..
It takes a second to sink in, but there she is—our new neighbor, an old friend from high school. Stella had been really close with Anon back then, mostly because they’d known each other online before meeting in person during high school. Of all people, I never thought she’d be the one moving in right across the street. I always figured she’d end up in Japan or something, working at some big anime studio, living out her dreams. But here she is, back in our hometown, right across from us. Stella gets out of the car and closes the door behind her.
“OMG, Fang! I haven’t seen you since high school graduation! How are you? I’ve heard some of your songs on the radio! I’m so glad you accomplished your dreams, blah blah blah...” Stella’s voice bubbled with enthusiasm, but I kind of zoned out for a moment, taking in her figure as she stepped out of the car.
She’d definitely changed since the last time I saw her. Her thighs were thicker, her hips wider, and her chest looked like it had gone up a cup size. Some might say she’d turned into a total MILF—minus the child, of course. It was wild to see how much she’d filled out since high school, and it felt surreal that she was standing here, in front of me, as my new neighbor.
“Well stella it's good to see you didn’t really expect my new neighbor to be an old friend, if you don't mind me asking why did you move back?” I say zoning back into the conversation.
“Oh well you know, working in Japan was fun and the sights were great but, i moved back six years ago and just had enough to afford my dream house for me and my baby” she says looking back at her middle high class house.
Baby?.. Did Stella get a pet or something? It's not like I did expect her to turn into a cat lady after I heard she broke it off with Chet after prom but it seemed I was greatly mistaken.
“Oh I didn't introduce you “ Stella walks back to the other side of the and opens the door and another shorter stegosaurus walks out. They are wearing a strikingly familiar green jacket, and a grin that I can't seem to place as they are looking at their phone.
“Cynthia, turn off your phone and greet my old friend,” Stella says, tapping her on her shoulder.
“*sigh*”Fine” she mumbled as stuffs her phone into her jacket and looked up and when I did I finally saw her eyes, her striking green green eyes.
“Hello, I'm Cynthia and I'm 16 years old ”.
Chapter 2: Dinner guest
Summary:
Fang invites old friends for dinner
Notes:
what should the next chapter be about ?
Chapter Text
It’s been a week since Stella moved in next door with her daughter Cynthia. Cynthia was practically a mini version of Stella—same yellow-green scales, same energy—but there was something about her that felt strangely familiar. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
With all the craziness of settling back in after our vacation, we hadn't had much time to catch up properly. Between taking care of Amber and Greene and Anon catching up on his work, our schedules were packed. But tonight was different. We invited Stella, Cynthia, and Trish over for dinner, figuring it was a good time to reconnect and catch up. It felt like things were about to get a little more interesting with our old friends right next door.
*Ding Dong*
The doorbell rings, and I glance out from the kitchen just in time to see Anon heading toward the door. "Anon, get the door, honey, I'm busy cooking," I call out as I stir the pot on the stove.
"Yes, Sweet Tooth," he replies with a little laugh.
I can hear him unlock the door, and for a moment, there’s an unusual silence. Normally, I’d expect some chatter, but there’s a quiet pause before Anon finally says, "Welcome, come in."
Curiosity tugs at me. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and step closer to the living room to see what the hold-up is. Anon is standing there with the door wide open, and I see Trish, Stella, and Cynthia just standing there in the doorway, looking at him in some kind of awkward silence. Something about the way they’re all standing seems off. Maybe it’s just me, but even Cynthia is unusually quiet, with that phone of hers tucked away for once.
Ohhh, right. I never had time to tell Anon about Cynthia. That’s why he's probably standing there in shock—it must be a huge surprise for him to see Stella with a kid. I know it was for me. I quickly step in to break the awkward silence.
“Oh, right, Anon, this is Cynthia, Stella’s kid. Cool, right?” I say, trying to make light of the situation.
Anon blinks a few times, his eyes darting from Cynthia to Stella, as if trying to make sense of it all. It takes him a moment, but finally, he nods and responds. “Hello, Cynthia. I’m Anon, I was friends with your mom back in high school and in college.” His voice is steady, but I can tell he’s still processing everything.
Cynthia just gives a small nod, her gaze not leaving him. She’s got that same familiar look, those same green eyes that still tug at my mind, making me wonder what the hell is going on.
“Nice to meet you,” Cynthia says, her tone polite but distant, as if she’s already ready to get this over with.
Stella smiles, breaking the tension with her usual warmth. "Yeah, Anon and I go way back. And Fang! Your place looks amazing. I can't wait to catch up!"
Anon gives me a quick look, raising an eyebrow in a way that says we’re going to talk about this later, but for now, he steps aside to let them in.
"Dinner will be ready soon, so just sit at the table," I say, heading into the kitchen. Thank god for Mom’s recipes; they’ve saved me more times than I can count. As I start getting everything together, I can hear the low hum of conversation behind me, mostly Stella and Trish chatting while Cynthia fiddles with her phone.
I can’t help but feel a strange sense of nostalgia washing over me. Seeing Stella again, catching up like no time has passed, it’s like slipping back into an old rhythm. But there’s still that tension in the air, especially with Anon acting so off tonight. I glance over my shoulder as I stir the pot, watching him quietly at the table, his eyes flicking between Stella and Cynthia like he’s piecing something together.
What’s really bugging him? I can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than just old memories resurfacing.
During dinner, the conversation between Stella and me is flowing smoothly, just like old times. We’re laughing about high school, reminiscing about all the dumb stuff we did back then, and catching up on life. She’s telling me all about her time in Japan—the sights, the food, how different it was from here. It feels natural, like we haven’t skipped a beat, and I’m genuinely glad to be reconnecting with her. Cynthia on the other hand would look from her meal occasionally to stare at Anon.
.[Trish]
Trish swears in her head as I walk up to Fang and Anon’s door. I was expecting a regular old dinner with the gang. Too bad Reed couldn't come—he was too busy with some car stuff to make it legal. But then I see her—Stella, of all people. I haven’t seen her in years, and she’s standing there like she never left. But next to her… a kid? No way.
My eyes dart between them, taking in the scene. I knew Fang and Anon were catching up with an old friend, but they didn’t mention she’d have a mini-me in tow. Stella hasn’t changed much, aside from the mom vibes radiating off her now. And then there’s Cynthia, who looks like a teenage version of Stella, but there’s something about her eyes. They’re piercing, eerily familiar somehow, but I can’t place why.
As I stand there, Anon is frozen for a second, like he’s processing some kind of cosmic shift. Finally, he says, “Welcome, come in,” but I can feel the tension in his voice. Oh, this is going to be interesting.
I step inside, giving Stella a quick wave and a smile, but my mind’s already buzzing with questions. Who is this kid? And what’s going on with Anon? There’s something here I need to figure out. The energy in the room is thick, and I can tell tonight is going to be anything but ordinary.
Dinner was fine, with Fang and Stella catching up, and I chimed in from time to time, but it didn't matter; I couldn’t focus. My mind kept going back to Stella's kid. I can't keep ignoring what my gut is telling me: this is definitely Anon’s kid. But when could Stella have gotten pregnant? College? But Anon and Fang were still dating then, even if it was long-distance.
“Hey, Stella,” I say casually, trying to keep my voice light. “Cynthia’s adorable. How old is she?”
Stella beams, pride shining in her eyes. “Thanks! She just turned sixteen. It’s been a wild ride, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Sixteen? The pieces don’t add up. I can feel my heart race as I try to keep my expression neutral. “That’s a fun age. Must be keeping you on your toes.” I glance at Anon, whose face is tight, jaw clenched. Something’s up with him.
“Yeah, definitely,” Stella replies, but there's a hint of hesitation in her voice. “It’s been a lot of work, but she’s worth it.”
Cynthia mumbles something under her breath, her voice reminiscent of Anon's shy demeanor. I catch just a hint of, “Yeah, mom, sure,” and my stomach drops. That’s exactly how Anon would respond.
As Fang fills the silence with laughter, my mind races. I need to question them, but slyly. “So, Stella, did you have any crazy adventures while we were all in college?” I ask, feigning casual interest while trying to gauge Anon’s reaction.
Stella chuckles, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, you have no idea. But let’s just say life took some unexpected turns.”
My heart sinks as I meet Anon’s gaze. There’s a flicker of something—guilt? Fear? I can’t let this go. I need to dig deeper. “Unexpected turns? Like…?” I press, trying to keep my tone light, but the undercurrent of tension in the air thickens.
“Just life, you know? Things happen,” Stella replies, her smile faltering slightly.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. This is definitely going to be a night to remember.
[Cynthia]
Dinner with the Mom’s high schools buddy’s was nice, filled with laughter and the comforting aroma of food wafting through the air. My mom, Stella, and her old friend Fang were catching up, their voices animated as they shared stories from their past. I tried to focus on the conversation, but I couldn’t stop glancing at Fang’s husband, Anon, who sat across the table.
When Mom moved us here, she said I would finally get to meet my father. This would be the first time I’d ever laid eyes on him. I’d imagined all sorts of scenarios in my head—what he’d look like, how he’d act. I didn’t expect him to be human.
As I peered over the table, my tail flicked nervously behind me. Anon was joking with Fang, his smile warm and easy, the kind of smile that made me feel both excited and hollow at the same time. I couldn’t help but feel a twist of resentment. Here he was, laughing and enjoying himself while I sat at this table, barely knowing him and feeling like an outsider in my own life.
Did he even think about me when my mom decided to move here? Did he ever wonder what I was like? My heart raced at the thought. I had only seen pictures of him in my mom’s old photo albums—a face I barely recognized. It was strange to think that he could be my father, the man who had been absent for so long.
I glanced at my mom, who was lost in conversation, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. I could tell she was happy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had robbed me of something precious—the chance to grow up with my father, to know him when it mattered. The resentment festered in the back of my mind, twisting my feelings into a tangled mess.
Yet, even with that resentment simmering beneath the surface, I craved His attention and love. I wanted to be the daughter he was proud of, the one he would take out for ice cream or help with homework. The thought of his smile directed at me made my heart flutter, and I found myself wanting to connect with him despite everything.
I looked back at Anon, who caught my eye for a brief moment. A flicker of recognition passed between us, and I felt a rush of emotions I couldn’t quite name. I wanted to know him, to understand the man who was my father, but that desire clashed with the anger I felt toward him for not being there all those years.
“Cynthia, are you okay?” Mom’s voice pulled me back to the present, concern etched across her face.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” she pressed, and I hesitated, not sure how to explain.
“Just… everything.” I glanced at Anon again, my heart a mix of longing and frustration. “Like, how different this all is.”
Mom nodded, her expression softening. “Change can be hard, but it’s also an opportunity. You’ll see.”
I hoped she was right. As I listened to the laughter and stories flowing around the table, I felt that familiar tug of conflicting emotions—excitement at the prospect of finally knowing my father, but also a simmering resentment that he had missed out on so much of my life. This was just the beginning, and I had a feeling my life was about to get a lot more complicated.
Chapter 3: Movie night
Summary:
Fang eavesdrops on a conversation between Anon and Trish
Notes:
well yeah, any specific direction y'all want this to go, might try making fanart for this lol.
Chapter Text
The week following our dinner with Stella and Cynthia passed in a blur of laughter, video games, and late-night snacks. Amber and Greene adored having Cynthia around, and I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the company of my old friends too. But even amidst all the joy, a nagging feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
Something felt off.
The air in our house buzzed with an unspoken tension whenever Anon and I were alone. It was subtle—just a flicker of unease in his smile, a moment of hesitation before he answered my questions. I could tell he was holding back, and no matter how many times I tried to bring it up, he would just brush it off.
“Fang, I promise it’s nothing,” he’d say, giving me that smile that usually made my heart flutter. But this time, it felt forced, as if he was trying to convince both of us. “I just didn’t expect to see them again, you know? It’s a little shocking, that’s all.”
But I felt like there was more beneath the surface, a layer he wasn’t ready to peel back yet. So, I tried my best to respect his boundaries, even though my instincts screamed at me to dig deeper.
The weekend rolled around, and with it, a sense of urgency to break the ice. I suggested a movie night with the kids, thinking it would be a great way to relax. “Let’s invite Stella and Cynthia! I think it would be fun for everyone,” I said, a hopeful smile on my face.
Anon raised an eyebrow, his expression wavering for a moment before he sighed. “Sure, why not? It’s been a while since we all hung out. I’ll text Stella.”
As he typed away on his phone, I couldn’t help but watch him closely. His fingers danced over the screen, but there was a stiffness to his movements. It only added to my unease.
“Great! I can make popcorn, and we can set up the projector in the backyard,” I suggested, trying to infuse some excitement into the air.
“Sounds good,” he replied, still focused on his phone. I leaned in to read the message he was sending, but he turned his body slightly, blocking my view. It was a small gesture, but it stung a little.
The afternoon passed with preparations and a bit of chaos. Amber and Greene were buzzing with energy, eagerly discussing what snacks to make for our friends. The air was filled with a mix of laughter and shouts as the kids rummaged through our snack cupboard, looking for all their favorites.
By the time evening rolled around, our backyard was transformed into a cozy space with blankets, pillows, and a projector screen. The scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, and the kids were buzzing with anticipation. I glanced over at Anon, who was busy setting up the movie. He seemed a bit more relaxed now, the tension in his shoulders eased.
Just as the projector flickered to life, the doorbell rang. Amber and Greene scrambled toward the front door, eager to greet our guests. I could hear the muffled voices of Stella and Cynthia, followed by a flurry of activity. Within minutes, everyone was settled in the backyard, munching on snacks and chatting.
The atmosphere was warm and inviting, but I couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease
it only intensified when Anon excused herself to the restroom. A few moments later, Trish followed suit, leaving me alone to manage the kids and their growing impatience.
As the minutes ticked by and they still hadn’t returned, I decided it was time to check on them. I brushed aside my unease, reminding myself that both were adults and could handle a simple trip to the bathroom. Yet, as I made my way toward the hallway, I felt a sense of foreboding. Something felt off.
I approached the hallway where I knew Anon had gone. Just before I turned the corner, I heard muffled voices from the living room. I paused, instinctively straining to listen, curiosity piquing my interest.
"So, what happened between you two?"
"I told you, it was just a fling, Trish."
"Come on, Anon, I've known you for years, and you've never been the type to just hook up with someone."
There was a pause, followed by a heavy sigh.
"I don't know, Trish, it was college. Things were crazy. Me and Fang were long distance. I was still trying to figure out who I was, and Stella was dealing with her own stuff. We were both in a bad place. It just happened."
"And you didn't use protection? What the hell were you thinking?"
"Look, I don't need a lecture from you, okay? It's in the past. She kept the baby, and that's that, hell we don't even know if she's mine,it's been years since I've seen Stella! ".
Trish’s voice was softer but no less insistent. “You can’t just ignore it. You have a right to know, especially if Cynthia might be—”
“Might be what?” Anon interrupted, his voice rising. “A part of my life I didn’t ask for? This isn’t something I can just brush off. I’ve built a life with Fang. I can’t just let this old mess spill over.”
The conversation hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and ominous. I could feel my heart racing, a mix of betrayal and hurt swelling within me
I leaned against the wall, breathing deeply to calm the rising tide of emotions. My heart ached at the thought of Anon and Stella’s past together. All those late-night conversations we had shared, the laughter and dreams—had they been built on a foundation of secrets? How could I confront him about this without risking everything we had worked for?
Trish's voice broke through my thoughts again. “You need to tell Fang, Anon. She deserves to know the truth. This could affect your family in ways you can’t even imagine.”
The mention of my name sent a jolt through me. I felt like I was eavesdropping on a pivotal moment, and yet, I couldn't pull myself away from the revelation unfolding before me.
“I know, I know!” Anon snapped, his voice low and strained. “But how do I even start? ‘Hey, Fang, guess what? I might have a kid I didn’t tell you about?’ It’s not that simple!”
“Maybe it should be,” Trish replied, her tone firm but understanding. “Secrets have a way of coming out, and it’s better that you tell her now rather than let her find out on her own. She deserves that respect, Anon.”
There was a heavy silence after that, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in Anon’s head. My own heart raced as I grappled with the weight of what I’d just learned. It felt like a thread was slowly unraveling, and with it, everything I thought I knew about us.
What would I do if Cynthia really was his child? Would it change how I viewed our life together?
Just as I was about to step away and gather my thoughts, I heard Anon’s voice again, quieter this time. “I just... I don’t want to lose Fang. I love her. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
My heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Could I believe that love was still enough to hold us together in the face of this new revelation? Did love even matter when secrets threatened to tear us apart?
The conversation seemed to end so I made my way back outside.
I sat down next to the kids trying to act as though nothing had happened. But the warmth of the backyard, the laughter, and the coziness felt like a distant memory.
I could see Anon re-enter the backyard, his expression strained but composed. Trish followed closely behind, her face a mix of concern and determination. As I plastered on a smile, I could feel the unspoken words hanging between us, a heavy cloud threatening to burst.
The movie started playing, and I fought to focus on the screen, but all I could think about were the whispered conversations I had just overheard. I was no longer sure what I was watching; the animated characters danced across the screen, but the real drama was unfolding in my heart.
Could we survive this? Would I be able to face the truth of Anon’s past without letting it destroy our present? As I sat there, surrounded by laughter and love, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change.
The following week unfolded with a veil of normalcy, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within me. Anon seemed determined to act as if nothing had changed, diving into our routines with a forced enthusiasm. Yet every smile felt like a mask, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath it lay a churning sea of unspoken truths.
My own thoughts were a swirling tempest, threatening to pull me under. I wanted to confront him, to demand answers, but fear held me back. Fear of losing him, of losing our family. And so, we carried on, treading water as the current grew stronger, dragging us ever closer to the inevitable breaking point.
One day, while Anon was working on the car, I got a text from Stella asking me to come over.
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