#‘I won’t look after myself til they’re taken care of even if it’s never’ and 2) kind people who want to give me things who can be a bit muc

[faithfromanewperspective]

genuinely seriously how do you fix ‘I do not deserve to earn enough money to survive’

[fandomscombine]

It's the Lease I Can Do

Platonic! Weasley Twins x Reader

BG: The Weasley twins are so close to having their joke shop become a reality. They had found the perfect location but they had hit a minor problem that could cause them everything. You want to help, but how can you when they, the birthday boys themselves had given up?

a/n: I had this idea for a almst a year now and waited til ther twins bday to write it. I hope you enjoy.

WC: 2111

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

Fred and George causing a ruckus in the common room is a daily occurrence that everyone is accustomed to. However ever since the start of Year 7, the amount of commotion these two had caused can be counted in one hand.

At first glance, it could be attributed to NEWTS or in this year's case-to a pink toad acting as High Inquisitor. Still, more and more nights the twins had claimed the back corner of the common room.

~

The last remaining batch of students were making their way through Filch's checkpoint (an added security protection which also serves for Umbridge having a list of names on who comes in and out of Hogwarts). You glanced down at your watch- 2:27pm, they’re late. Weird, the twins never pass a chance to go to Hogsmeade.

You hear the castle door open behind you. Thank Merlin, you thought but instead you were greeted with a disheveled Angelina. “I’m coming! Wait!”

“Have you seen Fred and George?” You called as she ran past you.

“I think I saw them in the common room!” Angelina shouted back.

The common room? “What are they up to now?” You sighed. Stomping heavily up the stairs. “Ditching me….”

~

“Oi Weaslebees! I know you’re in here!” You rounded the corner of their secret spot. “AHa!”

You caught them red handed, midway into shoving papers into their “Weasley & Weasley'' Trunk. Though what they were hiding, you weren't exactly sure.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, grabbing onto your shoulders, effectively covering George and the table. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Narrowing your eyes at him. “Really?” Hands on hips you blatantly say “2:15 am, courtyard?? Ring any bells?” Fred shook his head.

Meanwhile George’s head shot up. “Oh shit, y/n we’re so sorry!”

Fred turned to his brother, still clueless on what the heck George was talking about.

Abandoning the trunk, George gave his twin a classic smack on the head. “Hogsmeade, you idiot! We were supposed to all go together.”

“OHHHH FU--” Fred knew he was screwed. “I’M SO SORRY! WE’RE SORRY.” Seizing the messy trunk, he strategized. “Right, here’s the plan: I’m gonna quickly drop this off back in the dorm while you two make your way to the gate. If you run, I guess you can make it. I’ll catch up with you two then.”

“Fred….. We’re not gonna make it” you argued.

“Not if we don’t try.”

“It’s almost 3, Filch would be closing the gates by now.” You sat down on Fred’s empty seat. “Besides we can go to Hogsmeade next time, we could just hang out here. I miss having my best lads around.”

“Awww…we’ve been upgraded from annoying pricks to best lads!” Gushed George, pulling you into a side hug.

“Yea, I could help in whatever it was you guys were doing before I came. I don’t mind.”

At that, you could feel George tense up, his arm around you dropping. “Uhhh…” He looked to the older twin, silently conversing.

You gaze between the boys, sometimes they get so caught up in their scheming that they don’t notice that to others, especially those who had known them for years that their non verbal communication is not so sly.

In the end, Fred gave his brother a subtle shake. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just put this back and we could play gobstones or something, anything you like.”

As Fred headed up to his dorm room, you noticed a piece of paper under the table. Picking it up, the header caught your eye. RE: Lease Agreement. Were the twins looking for a new home after graduation? You didn’t mean to pry. You were close friends, they would tell you if they were moving right? This is big news….you decided to brush it off until another line caught your attention. The shop premise located at Number 93 Diagon Alley. Shop? They are trying to set up shop? That’s brilliant! The twins would get to showcase their inventions to the world! You could feel your pride swell. Leasing Agreements would not proceed if tenants, Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley, are unable to provide an endorser by the date of 31st of March.

“Where’d you get that?” George standing across from you, gobstones on one hand and another pointing at the document. There’s no backing out now.

“It was under the table.” You explained. “I didn’t know you were this far along with the shop.”

“Yea, well it’s not happening now is it?”

“What?”

“Cmon y/n. I know you read it.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright. We aren’t getting the place anyway.”

“Wait what? Why?”

“No endorsers.” George stated matter of factly but you sense the pain in his voice.

“How about your parents surely-”

George laughed. “As if mum would suddenly have a change of heart. You knew how she disapproves of our inventions, calling it a waste.”

“Arthur then.”

“Mum won’t let him.”

“Anyone then?” George huffed in defeat. “How about me! I could back you up.”

“You have to be an adult with a proven financial stability.” He stated, effectively shutting you down. “Forget it y/n. The hold ends in 3 days. We’ve tried everything. Just don’t let Fred know that you know. He’s devastated. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“And no pity, sad eyes!” He added as footsteps are heard descending the staircase.

“But I suck at poker faces!”

“Then let’s hope that Freddie is distracted even to not notice.”

~

It’s been 4 days since you had sent the letter to your father.

“Dear papa,

I know that this is a huge favour to ask but I believe it would be worth your while.

So remember back in the summer when you caught Fred Weasley, George Weasley and me snooping around with the Extendable Ears but let us go because you were so enamored?

Well turns out the twins and trying to get a shop up and running! How amazing is that?

The only problem is that they need an endorser to back them up in order to proceed with the lease agreements. The are currently on hold for the Shop Number 93 in Diagon Alley until the 31st.

This is where the huge favour comes in. Could you please be their backer? You did say that you’d love to help in some part in their invention, be an investor of sorts. Please papa. I would love to do it myself but I have to wait a couple more months to qualify. Plus it’s their 18th birthday on April 1st. Imagine their surprise if it were to come through.

I’d love to hear from you soon, regardless of your choice.

Your favourite child

y/n.”

The twin’s 18th birthday was spent with absolute love and madness.

Lee had unloaded his stash of butterbeer and firewhiskey, Fred had slipped Angelina with one of their new prank inventions- which changes the person into a sickly color of vomit green, a perfect way to ditch class or events.

Upon learning that the color would last for a few days and would only fade with the ingestion of an antidote, antidote that George said they still had yet to create. Angelina (understandably) threw cake at them. The Gryffindor chaser with perfect aim, hits its mark. However, Fred using his beater skills, instinctively blocks the incoming cake.

Resulting in a wide splat zone. Fred’s arm was covered in frosting, having sprayed everyone around him in whipped cream during the impact. George wasn’t safe too, despite being across from Fred, the rebounce of the cake had made him the new target.

You had just changed into your pajamas when a tapping sound came from your window.

Your family owl, Lanny, was outside carrying a large yellow envelope.

Quickly letting him in, you gave Lanny a gentle pat and brought out some owl treats for the tired bird.

Unscrolling the note tied to his leg, you begin to read.

“My dearest y/n,

My sincere apologies for the late reply, it’s been quite hectic at work.

In regards to your favour, you need not worry. Everything is taken care of. I had met with the landlord of Number 93 Diagon Alley and had all the documents settled. I had also gone and checked to make sure the two lads aren’t being ripped off. Fred and George had picked a nice prime location.

Greet them a happy birthday for me alright? And tell them that I look forward to witnessing them succeed in their endeavors.

They would undoubtedly be bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times. The people would be thankful for them.

I also had Lanny bring the twins’ copy of the Lease Agreement.

I can’t wait to see you all soon.

Much love,

Papa.”

~

Fred was grateful that their friends had retired into the night, leaving him and George to sulk into the dreadful reality.

“We were this close Georgie, this close!” Fred winced, pinching his fingers close without touching.

“I know but there was nothing else we could have done.” consoled George but even he himself was having a hard time. Number 93 was the perfect location for their joke shop. But now it’s gone.They are back to square one, scouting for locations.

“Fred! George! There you are! I have great news!” You yelled, not caring if you could wake up the other students.

“Oi Y/N! Be careful!.” Even in a bad mood, Fred Weasley couldn’t help being protective.

You banged the envelope on the table. “Surprise! Happy Birthday! From papa and I.”

“Another gift?” wondered George.

“So you don’t want it then?” You challenged, crossing your arms. You tried to look intimidating but the pajamas weren’t doing any good. “Cause I bet a hundred galleons that you’d shit your pants if you were to reject it.”

“That confident eh?” Smirked Fred, taking the contents of the envelope out. “ What do you think is so grand that Georgie and I would---BLOODY HELL! Y/N!” Fred kept looking down at the paper and up to you, unbelieving.

“What is it Freddie?” asked George leaning over to read whatever it was that left his brother speechless.

Re: Lease Agreement

Mr. y/l/n has submitted his endorsement to Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley.

The turnover of the leasing property of Shop Number 93 Diagon Alley would begin on April 1st …..

“Oh My- Y/n? Is this real?” George whispered, afraid that if he were any louder this dream would end.

“Yes, absolutely, 100%.” You affirmed. “The shop is yours! Opff-”

George embraced you tight, catching you off guard. You could feel your right shoulder getting wet. “Heyya big guy, don’t cry.” Running a hand up and down his back.

“But how?” Fred with brows creased was still stuck in a trance, you could see the paper shake in his grasp.

“You left the agreement noticed a couple of days ago. I might have accidentally read it. George said to not let you know cause you might get angry-”

“YOu KNEW?!?”

“George only knew I saw the paper. Nothing else.” You defended. “I thought i might try and help, so I called in a favour with papa. You knew how much he was impressed with the Extendable Ear, so I mentioned if he wanted to back you up. I only got his reply just now, said he’d love to and got onto ironing out the paperwork and viola!” Pointing at the document. “Oh and he also said Happy 18th Birthday, looking forward to your success and the people would be thankful for bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times.”

“Thanks Y/n but this is a lot we can’t possibly-”

You cut Fred off before he could say more. “Oh please, you have done countless things for me. And I know what you’re gonna say- but see you would do the same for me. Besides think of this as your first investors. We want to help. We see your potential, we know you two, Fred, George, are gifted with bringing laughter and joy to people with your inventions."

"Thank you, truly y/n and to your dad too." Fred admitted, opening himself up. "No one's really backed us up with our inventions before, we've been always told off for being childish. It really means a lot."

“Hey, it’s the lease I could do.” You replied, causing the twins to chuckle immediately lightening up the mood.

It's great to see them relax again after weeks of stressing over the shop. Times might be changing but at least tonight, you got your best lads back.

~

Everything Taglist : @gruffle1

HP Taglist: @onlyfreds

[eelistolvanen]

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Pt.3

A/N: So since we’ve almost reached 100 notes on Part 2, I finally got the motivation to finish the next part. So thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged or commented! Let me know if you like it! Part 4 is in the works but I’d greatly appreciate some feedback :) 

So here it is, there will finally be some Travis x reader interactions, so buckle up folks ;)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of suspected cheating, no proofread (as usual) 

You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

_____________________________

You were nursing the worst hangover you’ve ever had the morning after. You’d already drunk enough at the party, but after Kevin had left, once he brought you home, you’d downed a entire bottle of red wine in self pity. You weren’t really sure anymore what triggered your episode. You wanted to blame your outburst against Travis on the alcohol, but deep down you knew there was another reason, the alcohol just aided it. After all this time you were still hurt. You’d never really gotten over it.

Getting out of bed proved to be a real struggle. But after half an hour you were sitting at your kitchen island trying to eat some breakfast. The pounding headache had gotten a bit better after taking some painkillers, but was still noticeable.

For a quick moment you though the ringing in your ears reappeared, then you realised that someone had actually rang your doorbell. You could already imagine who was standing behind the door as you approached it. Not entirely ready to face one of his lectures, but you couldn’t really avoid it.

“Damn, you look a lot worse than I expected you to.” This was all you were greeted with as Nolan moved past you into your apartment.

“It’s nice to see you too, Nols.” You scoffed sarcastically.

He sat down at the kitchen island and waited for you to join him. Both of you stayed silent as Nolan let his gaze wander over the mess in your kitchen. Surprisingly, he didn’t comment on it, a quick headshake was all that you got.

“I know Haysey already told you that we didn’t know that he would show, but I just needed to tell you myself. We really didn’t know. He wasn’t even invited and I have no idea why he thought he needed to make an appearance. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You knew that he felt bad, just like Kevin. But it wasn’t their fault. And as much as you wished not to have to see him, you also knew that there always was a chance that you’d crossed paths somewhere.

“It’s fine, Nols. I’m not mad and you did nothing wrong, so no need to apologize. It should probably be me apologizing, after all I’m the one who called his girlfriend a puckbunny, so… “

Nolan chuckled at your words. “I’m pretty sure they’re not dating, so don’t be sorry. I mean, I thought it seemed to be very fitting for her but anyway… Let’s forget about that.”

You gladly accepted. The two of you hung out for another hour or so, before Nolan decided that he probably shut head over to Kelsey’s.

 Sometime in the afternoon Kevin texted you and asked if you wanted to hang out in the evening. You agreed to it even though you knew that Kevin would bring up the whole Travis thing as well.

It did take Kevin surprisingly long til he brought Travis up though. And you knew that this conversation was about to come.

“He called me today.” Kevin didn’t have to name any names for you to know he was talking about him. “And he asked about you.”

You waited for him to keep going but he stayed silent.

“So?” Kevin exhaled loudly and made eye contact with you. “I just thought you wanted to know…”

“Do I?” You couldn’t stop your voice from being laced with poison. You were being rude and you knew it. Kevin never asked to be dragged into this.

“Ahh, I don’t know Y/N. Come on, I’m trying here. Well anyway, he wanted to know about you. What you were doing at the party. Why we went together. Why you’re in Philly.”

You felt irritated. Why on earth would he care. He felt. He had no right to ask Kevin about you.

“So you told him, huh?” You were being unfair, you knew you had to stop acting like a bitch towards Kev, but God you couldn’t help it.

“ No, Y/N! I didn’t. I didn’t tell him anything because I didn’t want you to get hurt-“

“You also told him that he wouldn’t show to the party.” That was low, even for you.

“For fucks sake, Y/N! He wasn’t invited, he wasn’t supposed to show up, okay? I get it, you never wanted to see him again but it’s to late now. Just don’t take your anger out on me, I did nothing wrong.”

You deserved to be called out like this. He was right after all, you had taken it out on him. And Nolan. And neither of them did anything wrong.

“So what do I do now? I mean this is the exact reason why I left that life behind. Because even though you’re my family, it also means that everything I tried to avoid is catching up to me. And I don’t know how to handle that, Kev.”

“But you can’t run away anymore, Y/N. You have to face it. And maybe talking to him would do you good. You know, talking like adults. Civilized.” He meant well but you still felt like he was accusing you.

“Civilized? So I don’t know how to talk civilized?” There was disbelief in your voice. Was he serious?

“No, you do… It’s just that swearing at him and calling him names won’t get you anywhere. That’s all I’m saying.” He was right but you still hated to hear it. There was so much pent up emotion inside you, you had to get rid of it somehow.

“I know what you mean Kev. But I can’t just forgive him…”

“And I’m not asking you to. But I know that you want to know the reason and you won’t get an answer unless you talk to him. An I know he wants to talk to you…”

He was speaking softly, quietly asking you to speak to Travis. You were walking a fine line, you knew that. But you were also painfully aware of the fact that you wouldn’t get any better unless you started to face this. Face him. And your feelings towards him.  

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

Every turn Kevin made, made you feel more nauseous. The closer you got to him the more you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know if I can do this Kev.” Your voice felt weak, barely above a whisper.

Kevin quickly glanced over to you in the passenger seat. A worried look flashed over his face.

“Yes you can, Y/N. At least try okay? You agreed to meet him and if it gets to much, I’m gonna be waiting in the car, okay? And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

You felt yourself relax slightly. You were still nervous but knowing that Kevin was close by, put you slightly at ease. You had to do this. For you.  

Kevin parked the car in a parking space beside the sidewalk, only meters from the entrance to the park. You hadn’t been here in a while. You hadn’t been here many times anyway. A couple of times with Travis, when you were walking the dogs. It wasn’t your usual spot, which was exactly the reason why you choose it. It didn’t hold any particular memories that could hurt you. You barely even remembered what this park looked like. Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N. You can do this. And I’m here, okay?” You could feel him squeeze your shoulder as you slowly nodded and got out of the car.

You saw him as soon as you walked through the entrance of the park. He had his back to you and you couldn’t see his face but you would always recognize his silhouette. You felt your heart get heavy. You started to walk towards him, fighting all the urges to turn around and run away from him as fast as you could. He hadn’t noticed you, so you could still pull out. But once you got within a 10 feet he must have heard your footsteps. He wiped around quickly and you were left wondering how this movement didn’t give him whiplash.

“Y/N. You came.” His voice was quiet and he send you a quick smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though, they were filled with sorrow. His sad smile made your heart ache.

You looked at him. For the first time in almost 2.5 years you really looked at him. You almost felt yourself taken aback at the dark rings underneath his eyes. He looked tired, exhausted even and completely worn out. In a way he looked almost the same than he used to. But in some way he also looked like a completely different person. The radiance, the light that he used to give off seemingly had vanished. His bubbliness seemed to have made space for something darker. He looked hollow, almost as if the Travis standing in front of you was a ghost of the man he used to be. To a stranger he probably would have looked completely normal. Physically he hadn’t really changed that much, but all those little things that made Travis Travis weren’t there anymore.

He had noticed your shocked expression as well as you gave him a one over.

“I look like shit, huh?” He was trying to lighten the mood, but if anything it made it worse.

“No no, you just look… different.” You knew he didn’t buy your lie, but you didn’t feel like pity him so you did what you did so well. Turn defensive.

“So your girlfriend let you go and talk to me?” Travis scoffed at your words.

“She’s not my girlfriend. And you don’t have to worry about her, you won’t see her around again.”

“I still shouldn’t have called her a puckbunny. That was low.” You genuinely felt sorry about it. Even if she was one of those girls, calling her out in front of the entire team wasn’t your proudest moment.

Travis chuckled slightly. “Nah, it’s fine.” His expression turned serious again, almost sour. “You and Hayesy, huh?”

At first you didn’t even understand what he meant. It took you a moment to regain your composure.

“What? No, we’re friends. Same as we’ve always been. Nothing more.”

At first he looked sceptical but slowly he seemed to relax. Which then sparked anger inside of you.

“It shouldn’t really be any of your concern though, I mean what do you care? You left me.”

Your emotions were bubbling inside of you. And as hard as you tried tears were scarily close to spill as you tried to choke back your pain.

He groaned loudly. “I know. I fucked up. I made a mistake. And I’m so sorry for doing this to you, Y/N.”

This was too much for you. You couldn’t hold back your emotions anymore. Tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“You just left and I’ve never heard of you since. Not even a single word. Nothing.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. I reached out to you. Afterwards. But it was too late. When I came back to our house the first time after that day, you were gone. Every trace of you had vanished. An I tried to call, but I could never get through to you. And eventually I had to accept that I lost you.”

“Don’t put this on me! What did you expect Travis? That I’d wait around in our house hoping that maybe one day you’d return? That maybe it was all just some sick joke? You left me standing on our wedding day and you don’t get to blame me for trying to pick myself up again and start fresh.”

He stayed silent for a while. The guilt seemed to consume him. He abandoned the most important thing in his life and he knew that you had every right to hate him. He had no right to ask you for forgiveness and he knew that. But that didn’t meant that he wouldn’t at least try to mend the things he broke. You could hear him inhale sharply.

“I know that I hurt you. I fucked up, big time. And I’m painfully aware of it.” Even a complete stranger would have been able to identify the pained expression on Travis’ face. He was being completely honest with you. Not that it mattered though.

“Yeah, you did. You broke me Travis, you realise that, right?” He felt like someone shot a dagger through his heart. He knew he hurt you. Badly. But hearing you say it made it real. He would never be able to forgive himself. And you wouldn’t either, Travis was sure of that.

“I know Y/N, just tell me what I can do to make it better. Please, Y/N! I want to fix this. Fix us.”

He had tears in his eyes. You could see that he wanted to touch you, hug you, comfort you but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to do so anymore. It killed you to see him like that. So broken. How ironic. Both of you broken beyond repair.

“You can’t, Travis. This isn’t something you can fix.” You paused, thinking over your next words.

“You know I wish there was a evident reason, one that I knew back then. That you had some mistress, stopped loving me or something. But… I thought everything was fine. I thought we were great. I had no indication that something went wrong between us and I think this is why it hurts so much. One day everything seemed great and the next… everything was completely shattered.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Quickly you turned around. You couldn’t do this. Standing across from him, talking to him, hearing his voice. All it did was remind you of the pain he put you through.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”  He tried to reach out to you, catch your arms but you slipped out of his grip before he could get any closer. “Y/N!” But his pleads fell onto deaf ears. You’d already turned your back to him and were walking away as you heard him speak up again. It was quiet but you could hear it clear as day.

“I still love you Y/N! You have to know that. And I will never stop loving you, even if you hate me now.”

A quiet sob escaped your lips. This is why you wanted to stay as far away from his as possible. Nobody was able to hurt you like he did, even if he didn’t intent to. So you kept on walking.

When Travis left the park he caught a glimpse of you, sitting in Kevin’s car, seemingly hugging him. And although he knew that you had been honest with him when he asked you about Kevin, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous that someone else was the one comforting you now, when it used to be him who held you when you felt like you were falling apart. Jealous that someone else got to go to a Halloween party with you and dress up in stupid costumes. Jealous that someone else got to see you smile now.

Because this should have been him.

 -----------

You were sitting on Nolan’s couch, trying to figure out how your life slipped from you, when you thought you had everything. You tried not to think back to that day, but every time you thought about Travis the memories just kept resurfacing. You couldn’t get his face off your mind, it almost seemed like his image had burned itself into your memory.

Someone ringing the doorbell ripped you from your thoughts.

“Are you expecting anyone?” He didn’t answer, he just gave you a quick headshake before making his way to the door. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but your curiosity took over. You felt yourself freeze as you recognized the voice at the door.

“I need to talk to you, Pat.” There was urgency in his voice, he sounded almost desperate.

You could Nolan calmly reply: “Now is not a good time, Travis.”

“But it’s important. Please.” It really must have been important, considering that Travis didn’t usually begged for someone’s attention like that.

“I.. I can’t, Teeks, I’m busy.“ You couldn’t see Nolan’s face but you could sense the uneasiness in his voice. And of course Travis had picked up on it to.

“You’re busy?... She’s here, isn’t she?” You couldn’t hear Nolan’s answer but the commotion coming from the hallway pretty much gave away that Travis knew that you were here. You could hear Nolan and Travis speaking over each other and moments later you could hear footsteps coming down the Hall. You could hear Nolan telling Travis that he needed to leave.

“I have to talk to her.” With that he appeared in the living room. “Y/N.” It was more breathed over his lips than actually spoken and it instantly send shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing here Travis?” You felt so little, sitting curled up on Nolan’s couch while he was standing in the entry of the living room.  

“Can we talk? Again?” He seemed surprisingly calm. He was wearing a snapback and that yellow hoodie that you used to love so much. He used to radiate almost as much brightness as his hoodie, but now he constantly seemed as if someone dimmed his light. He looked tired, just as the other day.

“We have talked.” You tired to be as cold as possible, trying to shield you from the emotions that were rising inside of you.

“Yeah, and you ran away.” You sucked in air, trying to interject before he spoke up again but you came up empty.

“Please Y/N. And if you feel like it’s too much or you want me to leave I’ll leave, just let me at least try to explain.”

You wouldn’t get rid off him that quickly, so you took a deep breath before nodding.

You led him out of the living room towards Nolan’s bedroom. As much as you wanted Nolan by your side you knew that you needed to have this conversation in private.

Once the door was closed you looked at Travis expectantly. He seemed to be fighting for words.

“So? You wanted to talk. So talk.” You were being cold but you didn’t feel like standing in a room with Travis while the both off you stared at each other in silence. As if there wasn’t already enough tension between the two of you when you spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-“ You interrupted him. Was he really doing this again?

“Yeah, you already said that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“And I mean it. And you need to know that. I know that I hurt you. Badly. And there’s nothing that I regret more than walking away that day. I made a mistake and I ruined my life with it. And there’s not a day in my life where I don’t wish I could undo what I’ve done.”

“Well, you can’t Travis! Did they tell you that I tried to come after you? That I tried to track you down? Tried to find you and change your mind? Only to find out that you had packed a bag and already left the country? And then you flew to..”

Your voice broke, your eyes were teary and you felt like you could barely breathe. The guilt on his face made you feel nauseous.

“Why?! Why Travis, just tell me why you did it?” You sounded raspy, you barely recognized your own voice.

“You know why, Y/N.” “No, I don’t! You never bothered to tell me. YOU JUST LEFT, without a word!”

He took a step back in surprise, certainly not expecting this outburst from you.

“You read the letter, I didn’t know how to tell you in person.”

A humourless laugh came from your lips.

“I never read the letter. I burned it.” Your entire body was trembling now. You weren’t sure why though. Maybe you were nervous, anxious even or maybe it was the anger inside of you.  

“You.. burned… the letter.” He was in such shock at your words he nearly seemed to swallow his own tongue. He stood frozen, unable to move even a single muscle. This was the last thing he expected you to admit to him.  

“I just… I don’t get it, Travis! What have I ever done to you to deserve this? What did I do to you to have a reason to leave me standing at the altar?” Your voice softened, ”What happened, Trav?”

He looked like a fish out of water. He was still fighting for words, closing and opening his mouth. If you weren’t so hurt and angry you could have laughed at his expressions.

“I.. I don’t know Y/N. I just couldn’t do it.”

Anger started to rise up in your chest. God, you wanted to punch him. He’d always been a bad liar, you could smell his lies miles away.

“That’s bullshit Travis! We both know that, so stop lying to my face. You know how much I hate lying. You were able to write it in a letter but you can’t say it to my face?!” You tried to calm yourself. Take some deep breaths and steady your breathing. To no luck. Even Travis could see your trembling hands. You let out a shaky breath and kept going: “Was there someone else? Is that it?”

Your jaw clenches at that thought, you really didn’t think that Travis would ever cheat but who knows. You also didn’t think he would leave you on your wedding day but here you where.  Apparently you didn’t knew him as well as you thought you did. He seemed absolutely frozen for a moment, too shocked at your accusation to answer. But his hesitation was leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, Y/N! That’s not the reason-” “So what is it then? God Travis, just tell me. What on earth could have possibly been a reason to break off our engagement? Our relationship. Years spent together and without a warning you left.” You felt yourself starting to crack, a lump started to form in your throat and you knew that you would break soon enough. “ Did you just suddenly, one day to the next, stop loving me? Did you fall out of love? Was I just not good enough for you? What happened, Travis? Why did you leave me?” You weren’t even gonna try to hold back the tears streaming down your face. You just let them all out, sobs racked your body. The anger had left your body now and made way for the endless pain you felt when thinking about that day. You completely broke down in front of him

“Y/N…”

He knew that there was nothing he could say that would ease your pain. The damage was already done. You could feel Travis trying to reach out to you, but you pushed him away. You couldn’t see the expression on him face but if you did, you’d seen the agony that mirrored yours. When you let out a sorrowful quiet cry, he couldn’t compose himself anymore. He couldn’t watch you being in this much pain. He’d never hated himself more than in this moment. He knew that he was the reason for all this pain. So he fled the room.

Nolan stormed into the room only seconds later. Wrapping his body around his, as if he was trying to keep all the broken pieces together. And for what felt like eternity he just held you like that, at least you knew that he wasn’t going to let go of you.

“I think there was someone else, Nolan.” You broke the silence first, knowing that Nolan would give you as much time as you needed. The confused look Nolan gave you now, told you that he wasn’t exactly following what you were saying.

“That’s why he left. There was someone else. That-“ Nolan interrupted you before you could get another word out.

“This can’t be. Someone would have known. He would have told someone by now. I mean, did he admit that there was someone else?”

“Not technically, but he kinda hesitated when I brought it up. And he also didn’t actively deny it, so..”

Your voice started to cut out and you could feel the lump in your throat form. You were so sure of it now that you thought about it. His hesitation, the way he deflected the question. This had to be the reason. There was nothing else that could have been the reason.

“There was someone else, I just know it.”

Part 4 

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

Small rant.

I've mentioned this before but I made this acc because the dph subreddit is.. very wishy-washy. Tho if I'm being fair I've noticed people on reddit in general are a lot more cruel anyway..

I remember seeing this ooold ass tifu post about this guy that struggled with brushing their teeth and shit and end up whole breaking a tooth tryna bite a jolly rancher off rip. And even with soooo soo many comments, I can literally count on a single hand how many people weren't ridiculing him about his hygiene/accusing them of lying about having a partner because of the way the dude's breath "must" smell. Shit still pisses me off to this day. He was so self-loathing to the point he was just talking it all and saying he deserved it to anyone tryna defend him

Ah sorry sorry. I'm sure I've mentioned that before way back. That post stays in my mind rent free smh

Anyway I bring that up to say the dph sub is just as insufferable.. if not more so. It frustrates me a lot. Everyone is so eager to be right you know? It's hard to explain correctly

Addiction is not fun. I still feel like a dumbass for landing myself in this predicament I'm in nowadays. If I hadn't had waited this long to care about my future, maybe I wouldn't have backed myself into this corner. Maybe I'd feel more safe to bring it up to people in person

I know at the end of the day my problem is still partially on me. I can explain it away in 1000 diff ways but there are resources and even though it would more than likely change the dynamic of my life for a bit, I more than likely could get help. I know what's trapping me is my own fears with making any sort of trouble or worry for anyone

Tho with all that being said.. my addiction problem does not give anyone the right to treat me like dirt. It just doesn't. Doesn't matter if addiction is wrong. Doesn't matter if I'm caging myself. I am still a person with thoughts and feelings outside my addiction.

Which people on that subreddit seem to not understand. Allll the time you’re seeing people look at dph addicts as dumb teenagers that play up their problem to be like xyz rapper. Or people being disgusted that anyone would ever dare touch the substance after learning more about side effects of it. And the many, many varieties of assholes that think that just because addiction is bad, they can say whatever they want cause because they're "in the right"

When I made this account, I almost entirely stopped using/checking reddit period. The hostility + the basically copy pasted posts you'd get everyday just wasn't helping. Tho I'll occasionally look around in there and keep it moving.

Which is when I saw a long post listing off possible reasons of why people do dph. It's a really big problem in that sub. The mods either never check around or they let it slide cause it's "tough love" or some bs. Either way, it's not uncommon to get the same Why does anyone do dph???? post multiple times a day. Not to say they're all bad. I've seen a few of, while a lil overly black and white, justified posts telling a story about watching benadryl destroy someone. Or some others from people that tried but didn't like dph and was in shock that there's people that still go back to it. Tho with those exceptions in mind, they're few and far between. Most of the time, its someone that has never taken dph themselves being a dick to "snap people out of it" or whatever

Everyone in the comments were relatively on the same page. Everyone was saying like yeah I think that this should be pinned it's annoying to get the same question over and over again. I was mostly just scrolling through kinda in shock there weren't too many people complaining bout it. Til I found the one ofc.

Some dude replied to someone saying it should be pinned with the most cartoon supervillainish mess I've ever seen. The comment was roughly: Yeah I bet you'd like a little dph echo chamber. Well guess what I won't let you so why do you do dph?

Like first of all.. you won't let them... come tf on. You're not some sort of hero for spamming the same question over and over again. I'm sure most ask themselves that all the time. But two.. if you don't want an echo chamber of dph supporters, wouldn't you also not want an echo chamber of dph haters either? Either way, who does it help? It should never be so one or the other and I don't get why people don't understand that. If all it took was a few people being an ass to cure addiction, meth would not be a thing point blank period. The strays meth addicts be catching be wild 😭😭

Anyway, I said that. I said that what's the point of a circle jerk of the same exact question with the same exact answers cause I mean... that's what it is atp. I made sure to mention that the issue isn't that they're being negative about it, the issue is that It's being repeated word for word. Its just spam at that point

To which the dude made a snarky remark about how long but not.. emphasized (?) my response was..? I dunno how to paraphrase that. Basically tryna act like I was soooo angry and I wrote out pages and pages in some sort of rant.. when in reality it was bout... 4-5 sentences. I'd take an sc but I only just started to go through my older comments/posts to make myself more anon. Tho my acc ain't too hard to find if you're super curious. But either way, nowhere near the monstrous walls of texts I post here

And to top it off.. dude ended that off saying that they hope that they schedule 2 dph specifically so my life is more difficult. THAT is what pissed me off enough to write here. That comment perfectly sums up the problem i have with reddit and self appointed vigilantes in general. Why would you want that for me? The schedule 2 thing, sure. I even expressed in past comments that I think it should be more restricted due to how many better alternatives there are for otc allergy meds/how it's linked to an increased risk of dementia even with the recommended dosage. That's totally fine. But why would you want me to suffer more plain cause I have an addiction?

It's so.. stupid. That's all I can word it as. Pick a side atp. Are you being a dick to me to “snap me out of it” or do you view me as scum that deserves misery?

It makes me seriously question to morals of people at times. I swear as soon as people feel like they're in the right they can do and say whatever. It reminds me of early-mid 2010s era yt, whered you have video after video bullying "feman--is" or other cringe (😑) groups. If it were just addressing the points/inconsistencies and shit that'd be one thing. But when half your gripes are based on random ass assumptions and being a judgmental dickwad, you don't get to play as the hero. I don't get why people want that safety net so badly. If you view all addicts as horrendous people whatever, say it. What’s the point of pointing and laughing at us and pretending you’re doing it for our own good?

Ah. I'm sure it'll be something I'll think on throughout the years. That whole subreddit is a dumpster fire. I'm sometimes tempted to fake my sobriety purely to have more merit standing up to people like that. Since apparently nothing the junkies say is worth considering ig

I wish I could make everyone appreciate neutrality more.. sheesh

[porcelain-soupspoon4]

You’re Not So Bad (Isaac Foster x Reader)

A/N: I finished Angels of Death a few weeks back, and it was so good! I just had to write a short story about it. I’m not the best writer, but hopefully my first writing of this anime is somewhat close to Zack’s character.  

Warnings: Cussing, Blood Mention (it’s Zack)

You never expected to meet someone like Zack until he arrived on Floor B2. You assisted Reverend Gray, acting as another guardian of B2 after he took you in when he found you as a homeless teen, sleeping on the outside steps of his building. He wasn’t the best father figure you could’ve had, but he still treated you better than the streets did. When hearing the elevator on your floor ding, you wanted to see who was there, but Reverend Gray stopped you, warning you to be careful of the people you may meet. When you asked why, he described the people that held the names Isaac Foster and Rachel Gardner. In all honesty, you didn’t think they were actually as bad as he made them sound, considering that he over exaggerates his descriptions of people to you to keep you safe. Also considering the other psychotic people he had as guardians on the other floors, you could trust your own gut when you met the duo. You stayed hidden in the background while you watched Reverend Gray journey with Rachel to Dr. Danny’s floor. Watching them leave from the end of the hall, you saw a man in a dark brown hoodie and a scythe laying on the ground. That must be Isaac Foster. You could tell that he was bleeding out badly, a pang of guilt and empathy coursing through you. You were hesitant to approach him, remembering that the Reverend said he was dangerous to meddle with and there was a high chance he could react violently to you if you dared to try and talk. But seeing him looking on the verge of death, you couldn’t help but walk slowly toward him. It may seem unreasonable to walk right into danger, but you knew you could take care of yourself. Reverend Gray provided you with a weapon of your own, a basket-hilted sword. He helped you to perfect every swing and stab. Not only that, but you weren’t too bad at fighting hand-to-hand either. Luckily, Isaac Foster appears to be too injured to try and fight back anyway. I honestly don’t think my sword would be able to block his scythe well, I hope he doesn’t use it on me, you thought. As you got closer and closer to the strange man, he fidgeted a bit. You paused your movements, clutching the handle of your sword in its scabbard. He weakly turned his head towards you, his eyes opening slowly. 

“Who the fuck are you? You gonna try and kill me?” he questioned, a sharp tone in his voice. You noticed he made no effort to reach for his scythe, so you let go of your sword’s handle. 

“No.....I wouldn’t try to kill someone if they’re already dying,” you responded. He let out a dry laugh. 

“I hate to break it to ya sweetheart, but I’m not dying any time soon. Monsters are hard to kill. Besides, good ‘ol Rachel’s gonna fix me up. But enough of the chitter chatter, you didn’t answer my first question. Who the fuck ARE you? I thought there’s only one guardian on each floor, unless Reverend Shithead cheated,” he spat. You let out a small chuckle, finding his way of talking a throwback to when you were a teen. Although, he seemed to be around the same age as you, twenty or twenty-two years old. His bandaged face looked confused to your lighthearted reaction. He scowled, “Hey, what’s all that laughing for? I didn’t even say anything funny.” 

“Oh nothing, just thinking of my teenage days. But to answer your first question, I am another guardian of this floor. My job is assisting Reverend Gray on this floor, though I’m not really allowed to interact with the people who come here. But I uh, couldn’t help feeling a bit bad for you, seeing you bleed out like that,” you finally confessed. Letting out another dry laugh, he looked at you with a smirk. 

“Feeling bad for me, huh? Not the best decision. Don’t know if you can already tell, but I’m a cold-blooded serial killer. If I wasn’t feeling shitty at the moment, I’d cut that pretty head of yours off. Seeing you this calm around someone like me really pisses me off,” he said. You only let out another small chuckle, which irked him even more. 

“I’m sure you would, Isaac Foster. Although, I don’t think a fight between the two of us would end so quick. My weapon may be smaller than yours, but I can hold my own very well. If I could survive majority of my childhood and teen years being alone in the streets, I think I could survive you,” you calmly said. His temper apparently sky-rocketed because the next moment, he was yelling. 

“The name’s Zack, you bitch! Don’t go being so confident in yourself, it’s sickening to watch. I bet my ass could ruin all that confidence with just one land of my scythe. I’ll have you begging for your life, just you wait ‘til I’m in a better state to kill ya. Ugh, now I have two bitches to kill!” he groaned, then coughed loudly, more blood oozing out of his wound. You felt guilty again, wanting to at least stop the bleeding for a little while. 

“I carry some bandages and patches with me in case there’s a time I ever need to fix myself. If you need some I can-”

“Just leave it alone, will ya? I already got Rachel getting shit for me back on the other floor, I don’t need your damn help! Why the hell does everyone wanna help me?” 

“M’kay, but you’re bleeding pretty badly, by the time she comes back, you’ll most likely be passed out-”

“I said leave it alone! Stop tryna play nurse, your stuff probably won’t even do shit.” 

“But it’s better to stop the bleeding as soon as-”

“Will you shut up? You’re gonna make me go into shock.”

“I just wanna help-” 

“I said I don’t want any damn help!” 

“Well you won’t be much of a monster by bleeding out all over this damn floor! If you wanna at least live long enough to kill that girl Rachel, you could at least be somewhat decent and let me patch you up before you go all out, getting your own self killed instead! Now shut the fuck up and let me help! Geez! How does that blonde girl deal with you?” you shouted. Your yelling got him to close his mouth and shut up, surprised that he got someone as calm as you to get angry. How can I get her angry, but not scared shitless? It’s like she wasn’t even phased by my damn appearance, he thought. There was a short silence in the hallway, until Zack finally spoke up. “Didn’t know you had all that anger in ya. Heh, to be honest you even got my crazy self startled. I have no clue how Rachel deals with me, but all I know is her messed up head wants me to kill her. So I’ll do it. If I want to keep my promise to her.....I guess you should do what ya want. But don’t be a pervert about it.”

A small smile formed on your face as you took out your supplies in the small medical bag you carried around. 

“How the hell are you smiling after all that? Sheesh, I’m starting to think you’re even weirder than Rachel is,” Zack let out noises of disgust. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his childlike behavior. 

“Tell me something.....,” he began to say, “why haven’t ya mentioned anything about my appearance? I’m literally covered in bandages and burnt underneath. Don’t I freak you out at all? Why aren’t ya scared?” 

“Well, I’ve seen crazier. I also don’t like to make a judgement about someone based on only their appearance. Sure you’re not ordinary looking, but I know there’s more about you than what I see on the outside,” you replied. Everything that you needed to help him was taken out. You didn’t have any type of alcohol or a sewing needle and thread to fully cover what you believed to be a deep gash in his abdomen, but it was all that could be done for now until Rachel got back. You reached over towards his wound, but hesitated. You looked him in the eyes, as if you were silently asking for permission. He nodded slightly, his breathing hitching a bit when he saw the look your eyes held. You looked so genuine, not one hint of fear in you. Was that.....kindness? No, it couldn’t be. Why would anyone show kindness to him? You unzipped his hoodie, a faint blush on your face. Sure he was an asshole, but it still felt.....somewhat intimate? Not in an inappropriate way, just in a trustworthy way. The fact he had so much trust in one stranger to help him like this.....it was odd. You undid the bandages already on him that were worn out. His wound was revealed, and so was his skin. Wow....is all of him burned? You shook your thoughts away. You grabbed a bunch of gauze sponges you had and grouped them together, beginning to apply pressure to his wound. Zack hissed at the pain, saying almost every curse word you think is in the dictionary. You let out a soft “Sorry” as you continued to clean up the big amount of blood on his body. Once you began to bandage him up tightly, Zack started up another conversation. 

“You’re different from the other guardians.....why aren’t ya trying to kill me? Isn’t that what you guardians do?” he asked curiously. You showed him another small smile. That damn smile, why does she smile so easily at me? It’s not like Rachel’s forced ass smile. What’s up with this bitch? Why is her smile so.....familiar? 

“Well, like I said before, I just assist Reverend Gray on this floor. He’s the main guardian. I’m just someone he happened to take in after he found me sleeping on the steps of this building. Heh, teenager me. Homeless after my parents abandoned me as a toddler. I’m not sure what made Reverend Gray want to keep me. Sometimes he acts like a father, but then I remember how self praising he is,” you sighed, “I know the people on the other floors kill so you expect me to be the same, but I don’t want to kill someone if they aren’t totally out of their mind.” 

“So is that why you didn’t try to kill me? Cause ya think I’m not totally out of my mind? Heh, well I’m pretty sure me killing people for fun isn’t sane either. I hate seeing people happy, sooooo I kill ‘em. What’s not psycho about that?” Zack stated. 

“Well for starters, I didn’t try to kill you because you were already injured, so it wouldn’t have been fair. And you can’t be totally out of your mind if you let me help you with your injury.” Zack scowled at your reply, knowing you were right. Even as a serial killer, he had morals. He hated lying, and he himself would never tell a lie. 

“You remind me of him too much,” he grumbled. Your head perked up. 

“Did you say something?”

“I said you talk too much.” 

“No, you definitely said something else.” 

“No I said you talk too much.” 

“Doubt it, tell me what ya really said.” 

“That is what I really said.” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Zack.” 

“Ugh, I said you remind me of him too much,” he said softly. 

“Him?” you questioned. Zack sighed. “There was this man I met when I was younger, a blind man. He let me stay at his place for a couple days. Even after I told him I killed a guy, he still had that dumb smile on his face. He always had that smile on his face around me. It was annoying, him being so calm around someone like me. Pissed me off, but I didn’t kill him. He fed me and everything. I mean he already died cause of something else, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Are ya done with my bandages yet? It feels like it’s been hours!” 

You rolled your eyes at his commentary. “Well, whoever that man is, he had quite the patience with you.” 

“Hey! I was giving you a compliment! Geez, way to be rude!” Zack crossed his arms, turning away from you. You only chuckled once more. You finally finished wrapping enough bandages as you could, making sure it was snug enough. 

“Happy now, angry boy? I’m done. They’ll still get bloody, but at least the bandages are fresh and not worn out,” you said, giving him another smile just to annoy him. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I never caught your name. Since I told ya mine, it’s only fair you tell me yours.” 

“It’s (Y/N),” you said. 

“Well (Y/N),” Zack rubbed the back of his head. “You’re not so bad.....maybe I’ll keep ya alive.” 

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

bhah ch7 can’t stop won’t stop

lmao Dani being like ‘we should wait to discuss kids til after we’re married’ yes doesn’t seem like a giant thing u should make sure u agree on before u make a major commitment at all

Dani is so in love with Jamie sdjkhdfkjg driving to her house on instinct and just like...gazing at her in her old t-shirt and sweats like you’ve finally seen the light girl just kiss her already

god I can’t believe I have 2 more chapters of them as adults just being the absolute perfect match for each other to get through before they finally kiss in ch 11 (i’m maninfesting it no one say anything) I am literally going to scream. Dani will like... feel a little off and it’s all “i need to go to Jamie’s house and also tell Jamie everything and she will make me tea and let me be myself without all the expectations and I will feel better” I AM VERY HAPPY SHE CAN BE THAT FOR YOU BUT ALSO CAN YOU SEE WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE MS CLAYTON (actually I think she kind of does but she must extract herself from her real life first I guess)

oh no the new chapter is almost here I still have so much to read

forget ‘there was only one bed’ this is now a ‘there was only one tent’ stan blog only

thirsty Dani truly is the funniest I am so sorry ur suffering is so entertaining. Dani: literally whacks her finger with a mallet bc horny for Jamie. Me: uncontrollable chortling

the idea of Dani wrangling 8 year olds that are probably just about as tall as her is too funny. tiny legend

aww the lil background Hannah and Owen moments. cute

Dani in a big ol’ straw hat pls that’s so cute

this Jackie and Jamie situation..... GIVE US THE DEETS

hmmmmnnnnnngggg Jamie just straight down on her knees in front of Dani to tie her shoe lace I will absolutely let u have this gay panic Dani u don’t deserve to be made fun of right now

Jamie “I have a story” absolutely NOT

Viola, emerging from the lake in this no ghosts childhood friends story: surprise bitch

these two drunk idiots are literally teenagers dsjkhdfkgjh just get in ur tent

Dani, drunk in a tiny tent w the love of her life: hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me

when we finally get a Jamie on her knees redemption moment-

Dani, drunk in a tiny tent w the love of her life currently taking her clothing off: oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck (y’all really wanted to torture her this chapt huh?)

“dawn was a saffron colored suggestion peeking through a pinhole gap in the tent’s zipper” god that’s a pretty sentence can i pls borrow some talent

Jamie and Dani w kids is sooooo cute they have such a nice balance between them

just thinking about if teenage Jamie desperately in love w her bestie could see things now Dani being all into her w all her lingering looks etc how the fuckin turn tables

“Dani kept a firm grip on her sanity” lol

oh my god they’re both drenched in the tent w the soft lamplight and only their own bodyheat to keep warm whatever will they do

oh wait they also have the heat of their burning attraction to each other they’ll be toasty as anything

hhhhngggg abs

that’s like 4 mentions of Jamie on her knees aklhfdkjgkdjh enough

lads is it gay to imagine running ur fingertips over the scar on your friends back before pressing ur lips to it or...?

Jamie taking the time to teach Dani car things aww

lol not the smutty book

eddie honking at her gets so under my skin like my dude... my guy... stop

Dani thinking so hard about rain damp Jamie and how much she wanted to jump her while she’s in the car w her boyf and MIL. girl

imagine if we had to sit through a dani and eddie wedding before she finally managed to call this off how cursed

ayoooo Carson’s show I cannot wait. omg we get it this chapter too gbless this really is the Dani suffering hours

Jamie just so casually like.... not even flirting w Dani it’s all just kinda observations but every other thing she says makes Dani stop breathing skdhfdkfjh this is so good

Dani has like... a lack of object permanence but with Jamie feelings ok

pleeease the Dani Carson road trip that’s so cute I can just imagine what fun they would have had

uuughhh i wanna go to a sweaty bar n listen to loud music again

also would like a Jamie to press their hand to my lower back n make me lose my mind in a sweaty bar to loud music

this lil jamie dani carson trio is my faaaave

“Girls must be all over you.” and Jamie choking on her drink dsfkjsdhkf oh Dani u beautiful naive angel. god that’s so funny

Robin instantly going for Jamie... same bro

Carson’s lil found family band pls my heart is so full

Carson calling them his sisters n Jamie freezing up bby when are u going to accept these people care abt u and love u like family

Robin is so brazenly just like ‘ur hot’. a voice of the people i love her

Dani being lowkey jealous as IF Ms Taylor has eyes for anyone else babe

Carson knoooowwwwws. When do we get the Carson O’Mara biopic please I want his takes on everything I know they’re excellent

oh my god Jamie knowing Dani’s fave kind of pizza pls I love that so much (I can’t remember if it’s been mentioned in the past few chapters but I remember her being mad that Eddie didn’t in CH1? i love this lil detail) (also I literally just ate vegge pizza I feel so immersed in this experience)

dfkgjhdfkjgh Jamie licking her finger and Dani completely combusting this is so entertaining

fuck n then it gets all soft and about how they’ve been in love their whole lives this is emotional whiplash

Jamie constantly in protector mode but in this really quiet comforting way is so sweet I love her so much

god I just feel so bad for Dani that this kind of insane electricity she has with Jamie has probably never been a thing in her relationship w Ed bby u deserve someone that makes u feel like this

awww Carsons bf

Dani’s soul leaving her body when she sees them kissing oh no

Jamie giving Dani her jacket pleeease I am dying here... the romance of it all

and shariing cigarettes and intense looks these two really are somethin else

lmao even Robin is picking up on their vibes you two could level a building with the amount of tension between u

Dani’s moment of Realisation abt Carson n Jamie just being like... well yeah

lmao Dani subtly trying to figure out if Jamie is gettin’ it sdkgdfhkjgh

when these do two finally get together both of them are gonna be like... taken out by all of this. Dani has only ever known Eddie who just does not get her (and the fact that she is a lesbian so she’s never had real feelings for him in that way) and it seems like Jamie has only ever had surface level relationships with people who never really got her either (while also being in love w her best friend who she never thought would love her back). there’s no way this is wont eventually make at least one person cry a bunch (probably me) with how right all of it is

god Dani is so horny for Jamie sdflkdfjgkfdj preemptive RIP for Ms Taylor when Dani finally does get to live out all these daydreams on her I just know someones gonna end up pulling somethin

Does Dani like.... get that she will never love Edmund that way like is she fully aware of the fact she loves him but she’s not in love with him and all these feelings for Jamie aren’t just because it’s Jamie but because she’s not straight??? have we gone on that journey yet

aw Ed waited up for her

the book the book the book

dsfkdhfgkj oh Dani

“Jamie on her knees, looking up at her” listen-

girl u are so fucked

SIX. SIX MENTIONS OF JAMIE ON HER KNEES pls

THE DREAM

who could this possibly be about hmmmm Dani

christ

THE MEASURES SHE TAKES TO DEAL WITH THE DREAM lordt

“baffled but excited” i think is how I almost always picture eddie lol

dang get it girl take control

aw dani u poor confused little duck. i just wanna give her a hug

Dani dressed as Dorothy is awfuly cute

heh Jamie as a wolf i love her fursona

lmao toto

of course Jamie is well aquainted with the bleachers. cheeky. oh no not the art room. Dani dying inside and then imagining herself there with Jamie girl has got it baaaad u poor lil repressed gayby

Dani is... so thirsty... goddamn

lmao Jamie blatantly checking her out are u trying to kill her she already wants to rip ur clothes off

“To the third floor art room?” dfksdhfgkjdfhgjdhf imagine if this was it they just banged it out in the art room right now n got things sorted

god they go from horny to soft so quick i love the ways they care about each other

Jamie saying the scarecrow costume is fitting for Eddie PLEASE

ooh the infamous hickey

What Dani deseves: snuggles. What Dani recieves: struggles

the MEMES. god bless the memes

this was an excellent companion for my Wednesday hopefully I can churn through the rest of em before we are blessed w ch11 amen

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

did anyone else feel like everything in uni was just.... too much to handle???? like do this internship! do this extra curricular program! and this one and this one and this one!!!! all to prove how involved you are!!! build all your soft skills and hard skills and professional brand/identity now!!! what are you doing????? dicking around like that????? you have no time to dick around!!!!! DO IT NOW??!!! WHERES YOUR LINKEDIN??? WHERE ARE YOUR AND WHAT ARE YOUR CAREER GOALS AND YOUR CAREER ROADMAP????!!! WHY DONT YOU CARE ABOUT ENTREPRENEURSHIP AND BEING INNOVATIVE???? OH BY THE WAY WHERE ARE YOUR ASSIGNMENTS ON TOP OF ALL THIS OTHER BS YOU’RE MEANT TO DO AND CARE ABOUT????!!!!!

like bro you’re causing me and probably everyone else to have mental breakdowns and feel like failures if they don’t do all these things all at once at uni. sorry i couldn’t manage an internship bc i only got my licence after i graduated???? sorry that i felt like those programs would take too much energy out of me???? sorry i forgot to turn in all those bs personal reflections you wanted me to have done for that extra curricular program that i signed up for where i never got hired for any of the positions i applied for anyway???? sorry i don’t give a fuck about my professional image and how to set up a personal brand i have no fucking energy left to give a flying fucking fuck about it. why the fuck does it even matter??? and fuck your entrepreneurship and innovation/hustle lifestyle bs spiels! why the fuck am i supposed to care about these????? when my mental health is so fucking depleted that i had a panic attack to the point of throwing up in the bathroom over making my linkedin account and being a “budding professional”???? why don’t my studies count as being involved on campus???? because they’re literally all i can fucking handle, just barely???? like how much fucking energy and time do you think i fucking have???? thanks for your fake ass mental health events that don’t really work either. just fuck why can’t i dick around like you’re really supposed to do at uni???? how the fuck else am i meant to relax if i’m always meant to be thinking about hustling and all that bullshit??? hello???? why will no one answer me???? fuck you.

like obvs i know people will react to this with comments such as: “that’s why and how you’re meant to learn time management at uni!!! look at all the cute study hacks on tiktok to help you ☺️!” and “that’s how you learn how to handle multiple workloads and deadlines and stuff!!” or “that’s how college/uni simulates the real world of employment!!! if you can’t deal with this at college/uni maybe you should’ve just dropped out and realised that you needed to toughen up princess!!!” or whatever else. but y’all. like it was chronic. i was always tired. always burnt out. i felt like i had no time to “find myself “ or whatever the trope or expectation of uni is supposed to be. instead i was just hammered, to what felt like death, with “be entrepreneurial and grind/hustle your way to the top every day!!!! only care about your professional image and brand! everyone has one! do 10 internships today to prove your eligibility/validity and motivation to employers so you get into a grad program!!! hustle hustle hustle! innovate innovate innovate! where are your start up ideas to fix the entire world in a day???? here’s all these never ending deadlines for 50+ extracurriculars that you HAVE to meet otherwise you won’t get the award for these programs officially to show employers!” etc etc etc. but it honestly felt like so, so, so much to do and i felt guilty because i felt like i had absolutely no interest in half of the ECs, let alone, even the “required marks” (because more than half of the ECs at my uni required at least a 75 or distinction average) to get into like mentor high school kids or idek do a business incubator program or whatever the bullshit EC program options were.

and that above is not even counting the reflections that you had to do to say “yeah i did this program and i felt it was good and i learnt A/B/C about myself through this program so it’s defs enhanced my employability skills” to even be considered to be taking part in the program. it was all too fucking much on too little time and i fucking hated it. and that’s besides the point that i was focussing solely on all the employability workshops for my “career” and got literally fucking nothing out of them. like why can’t uni just be a time to dick around and find yourself, instead of doing useless fucking employability circus bullshit and hearing time and time again about the “entrepreneurial mindset” and how to “never turn off your brain for innovation and the hustle to be ahead of everyone else???? hurry up and have a side hustle like tutoring to show just how much initiative you have!!!!!” like i just don’t understand how my advanced diploma, my undergrad arts degree, and my albeit short lived and failed attempt at my postgrad degree dont show ENOUGH initiative to employers. i fucking hate it.

and i also i understand that me complaining about this after the fact (and also while i was at uni from 2015-2018/doing postgrad in 2019) can be seen as “oh you were just too lazy to get yourself together and grow up! typical millennial/gen z! too selfish to grow up and be part of the big, bad adult world!” but y’all. there needs to be more down time for students and less of a push to be “entrepreneurial” and all that bullshit during uni/college; so you’re not pushed to your absolute limits at uni til you have a mental breakdown and drop out/defer for a semester or a year. and that’s besides the fact that even in my fucking 3 month breaks at the end of every year i was actually BUYING my texts or textbooks early and doing some of my readings (books) MONTHS ahead of time and MONTHS ahead of even knowing the revised sets of texts (because half the time i bought them so early that i hd no idea that the prof had taken like 4 diff books off some courses and replaced them w/ other books instead for example) so i really had no proper downtime anyway. like i was utterly run off of my feet and i was burnt the fuck out every fucking year of my undergrad degree and also my postgrad and also business college in 2014; which was at least 50+ page assignments every fucking week. like that should count as initiative to employers.... but apparently it fucking doesn’t??? im fucking sick of y’all what the actual fuck do you want????

[xyliane]

AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD

PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.

0o0o0o0o0

The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.

This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.

Yeah. This is definitely their fault.

One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.

Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.

The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.

Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.

And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.

Which, well. That explains the hangover.

He’s still blaming his siblings.

His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.

It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.

awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?

Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.

wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!

this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?

And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.

“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.

The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.

He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.

“Gon,” Killua breathes.

He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.

He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”

Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”

Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”

At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.

“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.

The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”

Killua throws his phone at her.

—————

Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—

All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.

But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.

Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.

“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.

Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.

Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.

“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.

“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”

“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.

“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”

On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.

Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.

He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.

“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”

“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”

“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.

He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

Gon knew today was going to be a good day.

—————

It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.

The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.

He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.

“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”

Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.

“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”

“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.

Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”

“Not like this!”

“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”

Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”

It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”

“And?”

“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”

Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”

“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.

They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.

Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.

Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?

Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.

The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.

“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”

“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”

Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”

“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.

Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.

A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”

Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”

“I already told you, no.”

“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”

“No.”

“Just listen for one—”

Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.

Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.

Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”

“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.

Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.

Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.

It’s not from Gon.

Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.

look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.

For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.

In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.

“Is it…?” Leorio asks.

Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.

Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”

—————

“Has he responded?”

“No!”

“…what about now?”

Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”

Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.

He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.

Gon needs to find his phone.

“Spinner, what if—”

It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.

“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”

“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.

Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”

“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”

“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.

For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.

The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.

A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.

Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…

It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.

What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?

They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.

“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”

Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.

“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.

A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.

Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”

Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”

“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.

Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.

Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.

“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”

A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.

By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…

It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.

Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.

By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.

The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”

When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”

“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.

“Not that.”

“Then why didn’t you look for him?”

Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.

That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.

“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.

“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.

It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.

Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.

—————

bzz bzz—

bzz bzz—

bzz b—

“H-hello?”

“Killua! Hi!”

“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”

“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”

“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”

A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”

“I found it, and I gave it to you.”

“I still have it.”

A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”

“I did. And I promised—”

“That we’d be friends forever.”

A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”

“I did promise you that I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

(AUgust prompts)

[something-tofightfor]

Before the Beginning - Ink

@the-blind-assassin-12 asked for a little sneak peek into the before for Ink Logan and Reader... and in true Rachael fashion, three paragraphs turned into 2400 words. 

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader (Ink) 

Word Count: 2419

Rating: M. (Language. Talk of sex. Drug use. Mention of addiction. Alcohol. William is in it. Reminders of mental abuse and physical abuse. If you have any questions, please ask.)

Author’s note: Remember how Logan saw your tattoo for the first time when you were hiding it at the Delos Christmas Party a couple months after you started working there? You also talked that night. Here’s his take on it. 

He sipped his drink, eyes scanning the room. Every year, this shit gets bigger. He finished the liquid in his glass, turning back toward the bar and raising a finger to signal that he wanted a refill. Every year it - “Take it easy, Logan… you won’t make it ‘til dinner if you -” He gritted his teeth. Fucking William. Drink in hand, Logan spun back around, already preparing to see the man on his sister’s arm, but was surprised to see the brunette nowhere to be seen, William alone and standing a few feet away. Fantastic. “Where’s your date, Logan?” Probably in the bathroom, she said she needed a minute. 

 “Haven’t seen her in a few minutes, Billy. No clue.” Logan took another drink, looking past the man and into the crowd. “Where’s yours?” Logan knew Juliet had been looking forward to the party, and was surprised that she wasn’t spending as much time with William as possible. Em’s only a few months old, this is one of the first nights they’re really getting to… He hated William, but the idea of his sister getting to let loose was appealing to him because he knew how much she needed it. “You know Juliet’s been -”

 “My wife’s over there.” William pointed. “Standing right next to the other bar.” He actually smiled. “Right where she’s been for the last hour.” William leaned in, getting much closer to Logan than necessary. “Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the Delos tree, hmm?” 

 “Fuck you.” Logan snarled at the second man, his eyes narrowing. “She just had your daughter, and you’re gonna give her shit about having a few drinks?” You prick. “Jesus, William, you -” The blonde man only laughed, rolling his eyes. That’s what you really think of her? Of us? “You’re a miserable asshole, you know that?” Logan downed the rest of his drink, slamming the glass back onto the bar before he began to walk away, still angry. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. Trying to get me to make a scene. 

 He only got a few steps before William spoke again. “At least I’m not crazy, right Logan?” He saw that William was smirking at him as he whirled back around. “Not like you.” We both know I’m not crazy. “Have a good night, Logan. I think your, uh, date is coming back.” Logan turned to look in the direction that William was watching, seeing the woman - Tess - making her way back through the crowd, her eyes bright. Oh, perfect. He moved to intercept her and as he stepped closer, Logan gritted his teeth as he saw the slight white smudge beneath one of her nostrils. Oh, come on. 

 “You need to be more careful.” Logan hissed the words as he took Tess’ elbow, pulling her up and against one of the walls before he stepped in front of her, blocking her from view. “I didn’t invite you here with me to embarrass me.” She laughed, licking her lips and reached up, rubbing beneath her nose with the back of one finger. 

 “Jesus, Logan. Live a little. You used to -” He stepped forward, hands on her arms. “Logan -”

 “I used to be a lot of things. And so did you. But now is not the time for this.” He sniffed, shaking his head. “You wanna keep usin’, you’re gonna. But if you’re gonna do that shit here, around my employees? At least make sure no one can fucking see it.” I should have just called Dominic, he wouldn’t have… Logan closed his eyes. “Look, we’re ... “ He paused. “You wanted to come to a Delos party and I …” Wanted to get laid. Since I’ve been strikin’ out with… “Didn’t want to show up alone.” He shrugged. “But unless you get your shit together, I’m gonna ask you to leave.” He leaned in. “D’you understand me? We haven’t even had dinner yet, and you can’t manage to -” 

 “Not all of us are as good at hiding our bullshit, Logan.” She snarled the words and pushed him away from her, Logan not resisting. “I’m sorry I don’t -” She stopped speaking, blinking quickly. “Who’s that?” Logan turned to follow her eye line, sucking in a breath. What are the odds? “Never seen her before, and …” Logan said your name quietly, turning away from Tess to watch as you crossed the room, one of your coworkers next to you. 

 “She just started a couple months ago. Works in the cataloging department for the narratives. She -”

 “You know a lot about her, Logan.” Tess’ annoyance gone, she stepped next to him, linking her arm with Logan’s. “Sleeping with her, too?” No, I … she won’t… “I like her dress.” 

 “I do too.” He watched as you moved, a small smile on your face though he could tell you were uncomfortable, even from 20 feet away. “That’s a good color for her.” He eyed you, thinking about whether or not he wanted to walk up and say hello. We talk in the halls, it wouldn’t be… Your coworker - he thought her name was Kara - gestured to the few people that were dancing, and though you grimaced, you followed her out into the space after finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the table. Tess kept speaking to him, but Logan tuned her out, instead focusing on your and the way you were being careful not to move too much, the way your hairstyle didn’t quite match the dress you’d chosen. She’s wearing it down, and it would make sense for it to be… But as Kara spun you around, one hand tightly held in hers, Logan caught a glimpse of a darker pattern on your shoulders, entirely separate from the dress. What’s… 

 “Logan.” Tess smacked him on the side, annoyed. “What are -” He finally looked at her, shaking his head. “You’re not even paying attention to me. Do you want to dance? You keep looking at the -” 

 “Yeah.” He took Tess’ hand, stepping toward where you and Kara still were, trying not to make it obvious that he was still watching you. “Sure.” They spent two or three songs together, Logan going through the motions as he danced with the woman, though she tried her damndest to keep his attention. It’s the drugs. She just wants me to touch her, wants me close because... He was all too familiar with the effects of what she’d taken, how it made him feel, and what it made her want, but Logan’s mind was elsewhere, eyes flicking around the room and frequently landing on you, hopeful of another glimpse of what he was almost positive was a large tattoo on your back. 

 He caught your eye a few minutes in and you gave him a small smile, which Logan returned, his hand resting on Tess’ hip as they moved. I’ll go say hi when this song’s over. You looked away before he did, and Logan sighed as he glanced down, trying to focus again on the woman he was with. “Wanna go get a drink, Logan?” She was grinning, her eyes wide, one lip slightly curled. “Need a -”

 “Shit, Tess.” Logan reached up, using his thumb to swipe under her nose. “Your nose is -” It came away covered in a smear of red, her eyes narrowing as she stared at his finger. “You need to go an’ clean yourself up, I can’t -” She hissed, swearing and spun away from him, Logan following close behind and reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. Gotta get her out of here. “Hey, stop.” The two of them stepped through the doors and into the wide hallway in front of the ballroom, Tess breathing hard. “Look.” He sent the text message he’d typed, sliding the device back into his pocket. “Are you alright?” 

 “Yeah, I’m…” She licked her finger, wiping at her own skin. “Logan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I know you didn’t. “I’ll go and -”

 “No. You won’t.” He sighed, raising one hand and running it through his hair. “Tess, look. This isn’t gonna work anymore. You’re gonna do what you want, but… I can’t be around it. I’m trying to…” She took a deep breath, straightening up. “Onea my security guys, one of the ones I trust? He’s comin’ and he’s gonna help you back to a suite.”

 “Our -” Logan shook his head. 

 “No. A separate one. And you can stay or you can go, Tess, but…” I’ve cut people out of my life for less. “If Juliet knew that I was hanging around with someone that still… even recreationally used like you did tonight? She wouldn’t let me near Em. And I can’t risk that.” Not when the only other men in her life are fucking William and Jim. “Don’t come back down here.” She winced, but Logan noticed another drip of blood, his eyes moving to it. “You need help, Tess? I’ll get it for you. I don’t want to see you…” He pressed his lips together. “But this? Tonight? That’s it for us if you can’t… or won’t… not around me.” 

 “Logan.” She reached out, frowning. “I didn’t mean -”

 “We can talk about this when you’re straight.” Logan smiled at the woman, a genuine one. “And I mean that. You’re my friend, you know that, but I can’t… not now.” He pointed. “I have to go back in there. I have to give a speech at dinner, Tess. I can’t just…” I would have ducked out. A year ago, I would have… 

 “Fine.” She whispered the word, and Logan noticed a man walking down the hallway toward them, recognizing him as the man he’d texted. “Fine, Logan. Do you want me to let you know what room -”

 “No.” His voice was firm, but he reached out, touching her arm. “No, I’m goin’ to bed alone tonight.” She scoffed, teeth clamping down on her lower lip. Don’t make a scene. “Dominic’s gonna get you to your room, and then he’s gonna go to mine and get your bag.” She locked eyes with him, and though hers were a little glassy, he saw the hurt in them, though it didn’t impact him. I can’t worry about her and myself and Juliet and … But Tess turned away from Logan, greeting Dominic brightly, the man holding out a handkerchief to her without pause. Good. The two men nodded at each other, and once Tess and Dominic started down the hallway and back toward the elevator, Logan turned and reentered the ballroom, squaring his shoulders and taking a breath. Alright. Back to it. 

 He stopped again at the bar, getting a refill and then made his way back into the crowd, trying not to make it obvious that he was heading for where you’d last been, but Logan only made it a few yards before he heard someone say his name. As he turned to face the source of the voice, Logan felt himself smiling. You. “Thought you were going to say hello before, and then you disappeared.” 

 “Yeah, I had to…” He tilted his head. “My friend had to leave, she wasn’t feeling well, so…” It wasn’t a lie, but he figured you wouldn’t push. Why would she. “This is your first Delos party, yeah?” You nodded, looking around. “Hope you’re havin’ a good time.” You tossed your head at that, laughing and gesturing around with the hand that held your drink. “What?” 

 “I’m still so new here, Logan, that I only know the people I came with, and…” You took a drink. “And you, I guess, but I don’t really know you, so -”

 “We could change that.” He raised an eyebrow, sipping from his own glass. “I keep askin’ you out, and you keep -” You laughed at his words, the sound tapering off as you reached up, fixing your hair. “Why’s that funny?” 

 “You’re here with a date, Logan, and asking me out…” Closing your eyes, you took a breath. “You’ll get tired of asking, I promise.” He cleared his throat, leaning in. 

 “Nah. Usually?” Logan stepped closer to you, taking a breath and inhaling the scent of your perfume. “If someone says no, I don’t ask again.” He heard you exhale at that, but you didn’t move, so he continued. “I’ve been askin’ you for weeks now, and you keep turning me down.” I’m not sure why, but… He stood up, watching you. “Kinda hurts.” You laughed again, opening your mouth to reply but shut it quickly as two women walked by, one of them eyeing you. Logan caught the woman’s look but didn’t understand it, and instead of looking back at you, watched the two of them walk away, the second woman glancing back over her shoulder. What’s that about? 

 “You’ll get over it.” He looked back at you and saw that your demeanor had changed, the confidence all but gone from your voice. “Find someone else to…” You trailed off, once again touching your hair, then fixing the neck of your dress. It’s a halter, I didn’t realize… He watched you silently for a few seconds and then cleared his throat as you fidgeted. 

He said your name, closing his eyes as someone began speaking into a microphone, announcing that dinner would be ready within the next few minutes. Damn. “Look.” He put a hand into one of his pockets, straightening his shoulders. “I gave you my number, hopin’ you’d use it. You haven’t yet.” He grinned at you, letting out a breath. “Call me. Just dinner. Nothing else. Let me take you out.” Why am I trying so hard with this one? Your expression was puzzled, but Logan’s head moved from side to side. “I mean it.” Logan reached out, squeezing one of your hands briefly. “You can even send a text.” 

 You bit back a laugh, using your chin to gesture toward the small stage that was set up. “Think you’re being summoned.” He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Juliet was staring in your direction, waving one arm at him. I am. “Hey, Logan?” He looked back at you immediately, watching as you took a breath. “I do have some time off for the holidays.” You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I will call you.” He offered you one more smile and then turned away from you, cutting through the people between him and the stage, but Logan barely registered them. Shit. He reached the stage, halfway listening as Juliet spoke to him rapid fire, reminding him of the things he needed to say. I still didn’t see the whole tattoo…

---

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[trials-of-a-spirit-worker]

Posessed?

It doesn’t always look how you think. It can sneak up on you at any time and I’m sure people have wondered what to do if they or a loved one is possessed and how can they help? Well, I’m not an expert but I have been a victim of having my body taken for a ride for a hot minute.

From what I’ve experienced myself and heard/read a couple signs of possible possession

Sudden and/or extreme change in 

mannerism

voice

actions

diction

behavior

Extreme self-isolation and hopelessness

A sudden increase in aggressive behavior

Jumpiness from the person

Possible Depression or worsening depression

Losing memory and time (meaning they just have spans of time as blanks)

Sometimes talking to oneself, especially if this is out of the ordinary for them.

And a few more flags

Disclaimer: Please just don’t jump to the possessed conclusion when seeing these. A few flags can also be symptoms of mental health/medical issues. Possession should be the last thing you check for. Mental and medical checks first. Please. Thanks. 

My own Issue

His name was Erik and he’s actually a good muse for some of my more disturbed and frightening characters in my fictional stories. It was practically the only pro I have on him being here out of the volumes and volumes of cons. Well that and the fact I can still change my voice to be dark like when he was there and boy does that help in some situations.

Now, I can’t exactly pinpoint when Erik first showed up, but I do know he was here for a while. I mistook him for possibly an Alter (which is more for DID or Multiple Personality Disorder). But not armed with Psychological knowledge and no available therapist we had to play the guessing game. Only having a sign of another “person” there...and no other qualifications for DID or schizophrenia we had to bring up the idea of possible possession. 

When Erik was driving, my mannerisms changed of course and so did my diction and dialect, which alarmed close friends on the sudden shift in personality. Sure I’m an asshole at times, but Erik made almost everything I did worse when he could.  Where I try to fight as a last resort, he was quick to instigate one. to the point where I had to be yanked and pulled away from the situation; even once snatched up and carried before the situation got dangerous. Dead giveaways were calling my partner "Doll face"  or “doll” when I normally call them "love", "hun", "darling" etc when I was ready to fight (usually another guy), I was quick to address the other man as “Princess”. Whether Erik was running the show completely or not, if he wanted to play, my voice got darker and colder. Even when it was me being angry, he liked to amp it up to extreme levels where I started craving blood myself and would start to pick fights. At one point Erik didn’t need to be aggressive for me. I started to do it on my own. Terrifying threats came out of my mouth like they were nothing with a smile that definitely wasn’t mine. 

Hell, my own thoughts were changing. At some point I was agreeing with the thoughts that weren’t my own. “This person was a little bitch.” “Yeah, it would be funny to punch that person in the throat for no reason.” “You know what? Maybe beating someone into the pavement wouldn’t be as hard as people make it seem.” “Why not choke that girl that annoys the shit out of you? What gives her the right to breathe right now?”  (Think the Dark Kermit meme but I actually started doing the shit) my thoughts kept getting worse and all he was doing was encouraging it. 

Erik and my partner spoke a few times while I was sleeping as well I had no clue until they told me a few years after. (They didn’t want to say anything until everyone was 100% Erik was gone and I can accept that.)

How to solve this issue

Yeah, I didn't give you this story about Erik just to tell you about some spirit who was hitching a ride and fucking up my life at times. I'm gonna give you some advice to solve the issue.

Don't “fight”

↑ This won’t do much for you honey, I’m sorry. 

Screaming for them to leave til your face is blue will not do shit for you especially if they just practically like “no♥”. What I mean by don’t fight them is do not antagonize constantly. All you’re going to do is make yourself tired and this is a battle of wits and stamina. Now you can make it clear this spirit isn’t wanted. Hell, be firm in it too. But don’t make it a battle of strength. You’re just going to get weaker and that’s just what it wants.

Keep Yourself Busy/Embrace and Indulge in Hobbies

Often, they work to self isolate and make you feel hopeless, take enjoyment out of things that you do. Make you see your friends less and less. All to tighten their grip on you. This is where the stamina kicks in. Keep doing it. They’re bound to fuck it up. They’ll lash out while you do it. Keep doing it. They don’t want you draw/paint? Guess what you’re going to do? Paint like god damn Bob Ross. No singing? Looks like there’s going to be new songs to learn. No dancing? Tap that damn foot out of pure and sheer fucking spite. No writing? Write a story with a character like them and how they’re a fucking asshole. (That one made Erik pissed.)Do poetry, read about strength. But most importantly, show them that this is your life, your body and you’re going to do what the fuck you want. 

They’ll lash hard, maybe even attack the body. And that’s okay. Scary. But okay. You keep going. Instead of screaming and kicking, do what you can for you. That’s what you need your strength for.

Keep positive emotions

They will make you seem hopeless, make everything seem so bleak. Tell you no one gives a fuck about you. Understand this. They’re just saying that so they dig their claws in you. Do not fall for it. Occupy your time. Do things that make you happy. Rewatch that show that makes you bust a damn gut. Watch something purely for nostalgia. Anything that keeps you happy. Just do it. I’m not saying be happy all the time. Crying is fine. Feeling pain is fine. They’re assholes and they’re going to make life worse. It’s only natural you’re not going to be happy about it but you can’t give into it. Keep hope. Keep hope in yourself. You’re going to get through it. 

Find a support group and communicate

You don’t have to go through it alone. In fact, I encourage that  you don’t go through this alone. You need people you trust, people who will believe you to keep you going as well. Hell, look for someone experienced in getting rid of spirits like this inside of you! It’s exhausting going through this by yourself. Even if it’s online, find some people. Other people shutting down the entity in you as well will help. It isn’t just you fighting them now. It’s those who care for you, too. Will the spirit try and fuck up your support group? More than likely, yes. So all of you be prepared for what it might do but keep your goal on getting rid of this entity. 

Stay strong

Much easier said than done. This is exhausting to say the least. It’s like fighting yourself and another person all the time. They may come in dreams, may speak through you, try and drive you to do things you don’t want. Make you think things you don’t want to think about. Cast doubts in you. Control you. It’s hard and taxing. I understand. But you cannot give in. Because if you think getting rid of the spirit is hard when you’re trying fight back, imagine how hard and deep those things are going to dig once you give up. From day one, will it into existence that you will not be overtaken. You’re going to have bad days, you’re going to lose ground sometimes. But don’t you give in. You will regret it. Once that spirit is out of you, you will feel a relief and a weight lifted that you would’ve never thought you’d would’ve known.

I hope this helps any of you, even just a little bit. And I hope more that you never get exposed to a parasitic spirit (or worse) like I did. 

[qreektraqedy]

HEY  BESTIES  <333  i’m  veronica  (  she/they  ,  21  ,  pst  )   and  here  is  my  super  late  intro  ...  idk  what  to  say  abt  myself  lol  ...  pls  read  on  and  consider  listening  to  the fine sounds of rowan’s brain  while  perusing  this  bad  intro  .  also  everyone  say  thank  u  j  bc  otherwise  i  would  not  still  have  my  intro  omgg  

*   𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞  :  rowan  priam  davis   /   𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬   :  ro  /  row  ,  tbd .   /   𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫  +  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬  :  demiguy  ,  he  /  they   /    𝐝𝐨𝐛  :   7  june   /   𝐚𝐠𝐞  +  𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜  :  twenty - two  +  gemini   /   𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧  :   new  york .   /    𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 + 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭  :  12  + dionysus   /   𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞  :  brass knuckles   /   𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 :   english  +  greek  +  latin  +  french  +  spanish   /   𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭  :  5'10   /   𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬  :  irresponsible  ,  reticent  ,  disorganized  ,  impatient ,  stubborn  ,  selfish  ,  aloof    +    observant  ,  clever  ,   independent  ,  affable  ,  resourceful  ,  empathetic  ,  cooperative   /     𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢  :  entp  /  possible  estp .     /      𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩  :  any “bad boy” who is also the life of the party  ,  characters with similar mbti’s  / those who will push your buttons but you can never fully hate them  somehow  ...  tony stark of the marvel cinematic universe ,   jeff winger  of  community  ,  severus  snape  of  harry potter  ,  daniel desario of freaks and geeks  ,  etc .

*   𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 

rowan grew up in new york city where his mother worked on broadway and off - broadway shows for most of his life , though a few times he was dragged on nations tours .

rowan was brought to camp at fourteen where he was almost immediately claimed by dionysus . he wasn’t all that surprised, though, given who his mother is .  rowan, surprisingly, didn’t get the acting gift, or rather, not the love for the stage. rowan is nothing if not dramatic and theatrical , though if you’d ask them , they would probably blame it all on the madness trait, which isnt’t true at all, but you don’t have to know that. 

TW MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL ADDICTION , END AT NEXT BULLET POINT  ...  rowan’s special talent of alcokinesis often makes him the life of the party , though other than the social aspect of being a walking keg , it’s caused him nothing but trouble in the past as he’s grown a sort of dependency on and addiction to it in the past  , though that’s something he keeps mostly secret and is trying to work past .  connection idea ... someone pls help him 

ANYWAYS ... rowan sticks to themself for the most part , unless they have some benefit of letting someone in usually . which leads us to the present . rowan is currently neutral . they know deep down what the right thing to do is , but their self destructive nature and reputation they’ve made for themself make that choice a difficult one that needs no immediate care . they’re waiting to see which side needs him more and why he should agree to join .

also  ...  rowan uses he and they pronouns and has openly for about five years  .  they aren’t a permanent year-rounder but has spent several years entirely on camp , especially in recent years . rowan secretly likes to sing and if he had to be in any show , it would be rent and as roger since they share a last name and are both moody . rowan likes to wear glitter eyeshadow a lot and paints his nails sometimes . his favourite genre of music is probably anything 90s . his mom has a strawberry allergy so rowan hardly gets to use his chlorokinesis for those . prefers red grapes over green .

*    𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺  ..  rowan identifies as pansexual so all of these are open to anyone  . 

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  :  best friend   ...    the ride or die   ,  the one person rowan is closest to in the entire world    +     frenemies   ...   they hate each other until it rly counts  ,  they'll have each other's backs when they need to    +     sibling - like friendship   /   without getting into the family tree of it all , someone who he can look up to or someone who for some reason looks up to him  ,  a confidant  +     flirtationship or will they , won't they   /   close friends or even enemies with romantic potential or tension , whether or not they realize it or have tried   +   party  friends  ...   u know the deal    +   idk how to descibe this one i’m dumb  ...  they just use each other for stuff like .. sneaking stuff in or training but don’t talk much outside of that  ,  they have each others backs but aren’t very close outside of when it benefits them despite their similarities   +   literally anything   /   also the aforementioned thing in the bullet points above lol

BELOW  is  literally  just  my  app . 

PART ONE.   /   ⟨  alex fitzalan , demiguy , he/they , twenty-two ⟩ there goes ROWAN DAVIS after the opposing team’s flag , the child of DIONYSUS who was claimed to CABIN 12 eight years ago . wielding their BRASS KNUCKLES , and their inherited ALCOKINESIS at the ready , they’re sure to lead their team to victory . after all , it was their demigod prowess that proved to be vital during the arduous and decisive QUEST FOR THE GOLDEN FLEECE ( demigod slot 8 ) they ventured on in the past . don’t let their feat fool you though , it was during this quest that they were challenged by their SELF-RELIANCE AND RECKLESSNESS. perhaps that is the reason they’ve chosen to be neutral . 

PART TWO.   /   whether or not rowan was helpful on their quest is something he finds subjective , his perception vs everyone else’s. he feels he was helpful in the broader sense , simply being a part of the little rescue team and confrontation of luke being the extent of his helpfulness. others might argue his quick thinking skills or boldness and courage pulled them out of certain stickier situations. though no one is likely to disagree that rowan’s alcokineses is useless around 90% of the time , 99% on quests, probably. like his current stance, and apparent attitude towards most things, rowan’s usefulness was neutral at best. if they’d had forced transformation instead, however, maybe things would’ve been different . 

PART THREE.  /  rowan, at the moment, is neutral, though leaning towards the olympians, morally. morals don’t mean a lot though , since right now they don’t see any rush or severity to the situation and picking a side and is mostly waiting to play their cards right , wants to know what each side has to offer that will benefit them the most. they knows it’s wrong, deep down, but can’t help it. 

PART FOUR.  /   ok hey guys here’s some messy headcanons taken from my app . 

rowan was brought to the camp at fourteen  …  prefers to stick to himself mostly and not get close to people or let them in very often  …  lives by keep ur friends close , enemies closer sort of , more like he just doesn’t let anyone super close unless he benefits in some way , it’s easier for him to not care than to get attached , self destructive sort of  …  not a bad person necessarily , but got that reputation and leans into it  …  very fake it til you make it , pretends to be confident but has no idea what he’s doing ever  …  reckless and refuses to analyze his mistakes to be better  …  feels useless a lot but hardly shows it , will sit and play it cool instead of moping  …  moved around a lot with his mother who is an actress – sometimes on broadway , sometimes in touring shows which she did whenever she worried about rowan’s safety  ...  when he tastes ambrosia he tastes the blueberry muffins his mom used to make him for breakfast to take to school

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

oooo ooooo my guess is sunset, sleepy, perfect, and picnic!

Ahh, I'm assuming this is for that WIP guessing game thing from a couple days ago?? Nice words, I can tell what you're trying to get information about ;-)

Standard TPWM and TPWP spoilers ahead! Some are fairly big, so be warned.

(Read more added for Mysterious Reasons ;-) )

TPWM:

Sunset: "Mondo watches as Taka takes a deep breath and nods shakily, the small smile he’s wearing so utterly incredible and heartbreakingly beautiful. Mondo honestly has no idea how Taka doesn’t have a girlfriend (or boyfriend, he refuses to judge) already. He’s literally the epitome of a perfect man. Beautiful, caring, kind, smart, considerate, surprisingly funny… like, damn. He’s the whole goddamn package and Mondo has no idea how he’s not taken. Anyone would be beyond lucky to have him. It’s all he can do to smile back at the kid, eyes roaming his features, before remembering his fast-approaching deadline. If they wait too much longer, Taka won’t be able to see the full extent of the sunset, and that would be a goddamn shame, honestly."

Sleepy: "Mondo remains laying like that for an unknown amount of time, too afraid to move and look at the time. He doesn’t want to wake the kid, after all. Not before it’s time to get up. He’s quickly coming to crave these sleepy moments, moments where he’s awake but the kid isn’t. Moments where he can allow his heart to feel all the shit he’s not allowed to feel during the day, his heart beating for one person and one person alone. Moments where the world outside doesn’t matter, and only the world he’s holding does."

Perfect: "Mondo’s face is on fire with mortification at the overly sappy words he’d said, but he can’t find it in him to regret them. Not when he means them fully. Taka... yeah. Yeah, he looks good like this. Looks /amazing/. So beautiful and sharp and shit. But... fuck. It’s not /him/, and Mondo can’t help but hate it a bit for that, too. Taka... Taka is amazing as he is. His personality, his looks... his /everything/. He doesn’t have to change a single thing about himself. He... he’s already perfect, even with his flaws. So... so perfect..."

(I'm adding 'perfectly' to this, since I like the paragraph the word showed up in and I really wanna share it, ha.)

Perfectly: “"Goddamn, kid. ‘M not tryin’ ta hassle ya, just... ‘m just tryin’ ta figure more out ‘bout this new life a’ yers. Ever since Daiya... shit. I know ya were super close ta him, kid. An’ I know you an’ I weren’t that close, but ya know I viewed you an’ Dai like family. Hearin’ what happened ta him... shit broke my fuckin’ heart. I kept tryin’ ta call ya, ta let ya know ya didn’t hafta be alone, but ya never fuckin’ answered. You can imagine my fuckin’ shock when I overheard the news that not only were ya in town, but that yer attendin’ that fuckin’ high-class school now. Wanted ta reach out again, see how ya were, but I just... didn’t fuckin’ know if ya’d want that shit. Made it perfectly fuckin’ clear ya didn’t wanna see me after the funeral. Thought maybe ya might a’ changed yer mind after ya called, but I guess fuckin’ not. Just... hope things work out well fer you an’ yer kid. Mean that. Ya deserve ta be happy, Mondo. An’... know y’ain’t gonna wanna hear me say this shit, but I know Dai would be proud as fuck if he could see ya today. Fuck, ya look so fuckin’ grown up... makes me feel like an old crone, goddamn. But... it really was nice seein’ ya today, kid. Real fuckin’ nice.”" (This is said by an OC not in TPWP, by the by, ha. Mondo needs more adults who care about him. <3)

Picnic: "He continues to tell himself this as he puts the shit from the picnic away. Trash in the trash can, helmet on his counter, wine bottle and glasses on the table… the kid watches him the entire time, his eyes intent as ever, and it makes him oddly nervous. Wanting to give his mind something to focus on other than his nerves, Mondo begins to babble about how much fun he’d had that day and how he wants to do it again sometime. Part of him is hoping that it will get Taka to start talking too, but he should have known better than that. All the kid does is /stare/, giving a small, almost dismissive nod when he finishes. He tries not to let it destroy him."

~~~~

TPWP:

Sunset: “Oh, so now it’s fucking all about you again, huh?! Like fucking always! What the fuck did ya think was gonna happen, saying that shit ta me?! What, that we’d just- just fucking... ride off inta the fucking sunset together?! Ha! Yer fucking /delusional/ if ya think that would ever /fucking/ happen! Y’ain’t... y’ain’t got no fucking clue who the fuck I am! Don’t even know the fucking /shit/ I’ve done! God /fucking/ dammit, Kiyo, how fucking dare ya say this absolute /shit/ ta me, when ya’ve got no fucking clue who the fuck I am! You-“" (Have fun guessing the context for this piece of dialogue... ha. It's the only paragraph that has sunset in it outside of the chapters I've already posted, though, so it's what I'm going with here!)

Sleepy: "Taka lets out a soft noise to indicate that he can do it himself, shifting heavily to sit up. Despite all the sleep he’s gotten, he still feels so very tired... he’s not sure if the medication causes drowsiness or not, but regardless, he feels very lethargic and sleepy. He doesn’t try and argue against Mondo, though. Mainly because he finds that— despite his still somewhat queasy stomach— he is actually hungry. And the soup does smell very good, when Mondo carefully opens the top of the soup container..."

Perfect: “"Y’ain’t. Y’ain’t gonna ever be alone, Kiyo, not with me here. Shit, man... I ain’t ever leavin’ ya, an’ I don’t care how many times I gotta fuckin’ say it ‘til it sinks in, fuckin’ a million times, don’t mean shit as long as ya... as ya know I /mean/ it, okay? Ain’t a single, fuckin’, goddamn thing that’ll make me hate you. Not... not anythin’, okay? I may get mad or upset, ‘cuz I ain’t fuckin’ perfect an’ I know I got my own issues ta deal with, but... but no matter how mad I may get, ain’t ever at you, okay? I’m just... mad. At myself. At the world. At just... all a’ it. But not you... not- not ever /you/. Okay? A-an’ I’ll tell ya this every fuckin’ day if ya need me ta, every goddamn minute. Ain’t goin’ nowhere, man. Not unless ya want me ta go. Yer kinda stuck with me, heh. So don’t... don’t worry, okay? I’m... I’m here, Kiyo. I’ll always /be/ here. If there’s one thing I want ya ta know... it’s that, okay? Ain’t ever leavin’ ya. /Never/. Okay?”"

(I'll do 'perfectly' here too, since... why not, ha.)

Perfectly: "And if Mondo- a-ah. /If/ Mondo works through his own issues and realizes that he does... does /want to be with him/, well. Then, Taka will do everything he can to make /them/ work. To make... to make them work. After all, he highly doubts he will ever love someone quite as much as he loves Mondo, even if he might be able to find some form of love again. If he believed in such fanciful nonsense as /soulmates/, well. He’d think that he and Mondo are it. Two pieces of the same puzzle, made perfectly to compliment the other, even if they’re not at all the same. Their similarities are just enough to make the differences all the more striking and beautiful, he feels. He doesn’t quite know if Mondo feels the same about him, can’t quite get a feel for that, but he doesn’t doubt that Mondo feels /something/ for him. Something more than just friendship. Something deeper than just that. Something decidedly not /familial/, too."

Picnic: “"Yeah, it sure fuckin’ is, Kiyo. We, uh... we should come back here one day. Have a picnic or some shit. Maybe when it ain’t fuckin’ freezin’, but uh... fuck, dude. Shit’d be nice, yeah?”" (This is legit the only other time I use the word "picnic" in this fic other than in chapter 16, ha.)

~~~~

(Link to the original post so everyone knows what this is about, ha)

Fanfic Work-In-Progress Guessing Game

[midnightartemis]

Chapter Two

On A03

TW: Attempted Assault, Abuse, Language

The Past, Time Uncertain

There were two things that I remember about passing through time. The first was the feeling of falling, though I could see nothing around me to signify my fall, just black, murky darkness. The second was the sound, muffled language that passed quickly by me, too fast for me to comprehend what was being said or sung. It was as if I was hearing every snippet of conversation spoken to the rocks since they were first placed there to stand as silent guardians.

My fall was ended suddenly as I hit the ground, dazed and confused. Had I passed out? The sky above me was now dark violet and filled with stars. There was nothing that I could remember that would have caused me to faint, so did someone hit me with something? Had I been robbed? I looked down at my finger to see that my simple wedding band was still there. Where there was once a small diamond, it was now missing. I sat up suddenly and scrambled my fingers through the grass searching for it desperately. The small band with the tiny diamond had been all that Henry could afford on a soldier’s pension. He had always promised to replace it with a bigger, better ring, but I had refused. It was our wedding ring. I didn’t care how much it cost or what it looked like as long as it meant that him and me became a we. But now the diamond was gone.

Did I lose it on the hike up the hill? Or worse, somewhere along the road? Even in the bright light of the full moon, it was hopeless trying to find it. We would have to come back tomorrow and search for it, even if it was so tiny that we would never be able to find it. I had to try. We had to try.

I hurried down the gravelly path, desperately trying to get back to my motorcycle and back home. I didn’t really know what time it was, though if I stopped to stare at the sky, I could probably figure it out. Navigating by the stars had become like second nature to me during the war.

If I hadn’t been so eager to get back home, perhaps I would have noticed that where there once was a fence for the pasture, there was now nothing. And the path that I traveled on was less worn down and muddier than before.

Maybe I would have gone back to the circle to see if I had gone the wrong way. Maybe I would have kept searching for my diamond. Maybe I would have touched the stone once more, and my time trespassing into a different life would have been brief and unnoticed.

My feet raced down the path until it ended suddenly and my confusion began. The road should have been there. My motorcycle should have been not two meters away. I turned around trying to orient myself again. Had I gone down the wrong path? Taken a turn that I hadn’t seen before on my way up?

A gunshot ripped through the air and the ground beside me exploded. My next reactions were ones that had been ingrained in me nearly every day for the last four years. Run. Hide. Cover. No time for thinking. Thinking means death.

My eyes search the skies for bomber planes as I race towards the closest available cover, the thick trees of a heavily wooded area. Had I been in my right mindset, I may have noticed that these trees were much older and thicker than the modern forests of Scotland. But it was hard to think when all I heard were the muffled sounds of gunshots and men’s yells that echoed through the forest. I kept running, kept moving, until the land descended to a stream bathed in moonlight, but otherwise hidden by large juts of rough, mossy stone.

I pressed myself against the rock and tried to calm my breathing. I could still hear the gunshots and yells, but they sounded more like pistols than machine guns. One shot at a time, long pauses between. But the war is done. The war is over. My brain tried to think rationally. I knew that the Scots didn’t really like the English, but much of the tension was between the Irish and the English. And who would call for infighting so soon after the end of the Great War?

None of that much mattered when they were shooting at me. It didn’t matter why if I was just going to get shot anyway and die.

See? Think later. Run. Hide. Cover. I was about to make my move to skirt through the forest and around the edge of Craigh na dun to find my bike and get the hell out of here when I heard the undeniable click of a hammer being pulled back.

“Turn. Slowly.” The voice is rough but oddly familiar.

I slowly raise my hands and turn to face my attacker. The moonlight is faint, but my eyes have adjusted well enough to see the man standing in front of me holding a gun to my head. “Henry? Henry, what the hell?”

He was dressed very strangely in what seemed to be an old British uniform, though this one seemed brand new. His eyes were hard and furious. “What’s an English woman like you doing in the middle of the woods?”

“What do you mean? Henry, what are you playing at? This isn’t funny.”

“Henry? There’s no Henry here. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in with those Scottish scum,” he eyes me with a leering eye and I slowly take a step back. “Though you are half-naked in strange clothes. Don’t you miss a British man? Refined? Less hairy? Or maybe you prefer wild savagery.”

“Henry, please stop, you’re scaring me.”

“My name is Captain Johnathan Snoke.”

My heart stops completely and my feet turn to run, but he’s on me before I can take a step. He throws me against the ground, and I scrape at the dirt to get away but he’s on top of me and tearing at the top of my pants and there’s a hand on my mouth to keep me from screaming so I scream on the inside. “Prancing around the Queen’s countryside pretending to be a man won't keep you-“

A loud crack above me cuts off his words, and his weight is lifted from me. I don’t have a second to think or breathe before I’m hauled to my feet by a different hand and dragged through the dark forest. I desperately try to pull away from my rescuer, but his hand remains firm around my arm. He’s a giant beside me, nearly seven feet tall, all bushy hair and wild-looking in the dark. He’s not wearing the British uniform, but something darker and more rugged.

“Stop yer fussing if ye don’t want a bullet to your head or a cock in your cunt.”

I freeze, but this only prompts the man to tug me harder along with him. “I’ll scream.”

“Do that and I'll leave ye here for the dogs. Ye come with me quietly and I can at least keep ye safe 'til morning.”

More gunshots ring out in the distance and it takes me an instant to realize that if I am to survive the night and wake up from this nightmare, then I should comply with this beast of a man. I let him lead me through the dark woods which he seems to know like the back of his hand and it isn’t long until we come to a small dark cottage. He opens the door and throws me inside, and I’m suddenly basked in candlelight. A dozen eyes focus on me.

“Who’s this.”

“British lass. Caught her being attacked by none other than Captain Jack.”

“I hope ye sliced his throat for me.”

“No chance.”

My mind is racing to take in the information that is surrounding me. There’s nothing but a group of men, but they’re unlike any men I had ever seen. They seemed to be playing dress-up, wearing knives and swords and pistols and clothes that looked like they were pulled out of a history book and dragged through the mud.

“She could be a spy.” There’s a short, dark-haired man leaning against the wall of the small stone house. He moves in a way that tells me he’s the leader of this lot.

“I’m not a spy,” I say and the reaction in the room tells me that they’re surprised I can even speak. “Did no one tell you that the war is over and it wasn’t against the British?”

A hearty chuckle goes around the room and I’m beginning to move beyond scared and into pissed.

“The war is just beginning, lassie.” Another man chimes in.

The leader of the group sends him a look that could kill and the man immediately shuts up and turns his eyes down. The leader takes a sip of something that I don’t think is water. “Would ye tell us what a young English woman like yourself is doing dressed as a man in the middle of the woods at night in times like these? Speaking to Captain Jack of all people?”

“I wasn’t speaking to him. ” I spit out.

The man’s eyes narrow. “That dinna answer my question, lass.”

“I was at Craigh na dun. I took a wrong path down the hill and before I could trace my steps back, I was shot at. So I ran.”

“Nearest town is more than a fair walk away.”

“I rode.”

“Where’s your horse?”

“My horse? No- I rode a-“

A sharp cry of pain interrupts me and I stop to look at its source. There’s a figure by the fire doubled over in seemingly grand amounts of pain. I watch as the leader goes over to him and touches the figure’s shoulder. The figure winces. In the light, I can see now why he’s in so much pain. Dislocated shoulder.

“Let’s put that back where it belongs.” The leader takes the man’s arm and he groans in pain. He’s doing it wrong. He’s going to-

“Stop!” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. All eyes in the room turn to me, including the man at the fire. His eyes are dark and intense, wet with the pain he’s holding back. “You’re going to injure the tendons and muscles even more. Let me.”

I step forward and am met with a wall of heavily armed men about ready to place their blades in my side. I stop and eye the leader, completely unsure as to why I’m even bothering to help my now kidnappers. “I’ve been trained in first aid. I know how to reset his arm correctly.”

The leader eyes me for a moment then nods. I slowly inch forward until my hands are on the injured man's arm. He groans as I slowly maneuver his arm into the correct position. “I’m going to need you to resist me. Push when I push, okay? I’m not strong enough to do it on my own. And it’s going to hurt. A lot.”

The man says nothing, just quietly nods. I take a deep breath and still myself. “On three. One… two… three…”

I push with all my might and he pushes back, groaning as the joint slips back into place. His dark eyes are watching my every move. “Is there a long bit of cloth for a sling?”

Someone hands me a bit of dirty cloth and I suppose it’s the best we’ve got right now. I fashion him a sling. “Rest your arm for a few days. No strenuous activity or you’ll hurt it further.”

“We’ve best be going. Won’t be long until those bloody bastards find us again.” The leader says and all the men begin to move. I head toward the door ready to make my way through the night and back to the stones to find my bike and get very, very far away from here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand grabs my arm and I yank away. I was getting very tired of strange men grabbing me whenever they pleased.

“Back to Craigh na dun and far away from you lot.”

His eyes narrow and I can tell he doesn’t like my answer. “I think you’re coming with us, lass.”

“Like hell I am.” I spit at his feet and this time blades are actually drawn. The leader of the group just laughs.

“Yer a feisty one,” he chuckles. “Until I get the truth of who ye are and whether or not yer a spy for the British, yer not going anywhere.”

“And what if I chose to go somewhere?”

“Then ye will be forcibly readjusted to the correct course.”

My heart pounds as I stare at the wild men before me. None of this made any sense. My head rebelled at the possible conclusions to this mess that I had already drawn. If that truly was Captain Johnathan Snoke back in those woods and not a horrible prank by my husband, then that meant that I was no longer in the safe hands of 1945. That somehow I had been transported through time to the mid-1700s.

Impossible.

It was all impossible.

My mind clung to the last possible sane explanation, that this was all a strange dream. And soon I would wake up in the too small, too squeaky bed of our bed and breakfast. I would roll over and tell Henry about the strangest dream I just had.

And then I remember that I hadn’t gone back to the bed and breakfast. That this couldn’t be a dream. That this all felt very, very, terrifyingly real.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Got Your Number

Follow up to “Wrong Number” - but can be stand alone.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, +18, graphic smut

* * * 

You may have let out a little groan as you lowered the heavy file box to the ground, but it didn’t cover the deep, sexy hum that came from the doorway. It took effort to bite back the grin and school your features into a rye scowl. Standing up slowly, you turned with a sigh.

“You going to just stand there, or give me a hand?” One eyebrow arched.

Bucky closed the distance in three long strides, grabbing your ass cheek in a firm grip. “I’ll give you a hand.”

You shivered when he growled in your ear, voice low and just loud enough for your ears alone. Playing tough only lasted as long as he didn’t drop into that tone. He quickly learned your personal kryptonite existed within the low register of his voice, especially when laden with sinful promise and filthy words.  

He chuckled when your fingers fisted in his Henley and your head lolled back to stare into his eyes.  

“You need me?”    

“Seems to be a regular occurrence.” You sighed in mock disappointment.  

Metal fingers cupped your face, drawing you up for a kiss. His teeth nipped at your lower lip. Lifting onto your toes you fought for more contact, tongue sweeping against his mouth. He pulled back just enough to block your efforts. You whined, trying again. He smiled against your lips, but didn’t grant you the depth of kiss you desired. When he tried to pull away a third time, you grabbed two handfuls of hair, pulling him forward hard.

“Asshole.” You smiled against his lips.

Bucky growled and devoured your mouth thoroughly, wet and messy. His arms held you flush against him, lifting you to the tips of your toes. His arms did not lessen their hold even when his mouth trailed to the sensitive spot below your ear. “Any chance I could lay you across that desk and fuck you ‘til you scream?”    

“Not right now, Buck. People are working.” You laughed.

“So, later?” He pulled back enough for you to see the mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes.

He drank down your laughter in another kiss.

“You know, he has a room upstairs.” The dry voice of Tony Stark interrupted you. “I’m not putting a murphy bed in here and the cleaning crew will only do so much.”

Bucky reluctantly let you go. He almost managed to not glare at the intrusion, to which Tony only beamed all the brighter. Buck shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans to hide his cockblocked erection and leaned against your desk.  

“So, getting all moved in?” Tony picked up a photo of your mom and put it back in the box where he found it, flipped open a binder on the latest W.H.O. status report, and finally ended up unscrewing the cap to a fountain pen that had been on the desk. “Oh, nice.”

“Careful, she tends to get stabby with that one.” Bucky muttered.  

You laughed, barely believing he remembered some of the first word you ever spoke to him.  

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tony put it down. “So, seriously, is there anything you need, doc?”

“No, not now. The office is bigger that my first apartment. The lab is amazing. I’m just getting settled in right now, so,” You smiled. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” Stark grinned back. “Welcome aboard.” He stopped at the door, looking back with a smirk. “I mean it about the cleaning crew. They won’t do biological messes.”

“Piss off.” Bucky growled.

You could hear Stark as he walked down the hall, “Not the fluids I was talking about!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth ticked up. After a moment, he pulled his hands free and grabbed your hips. You leaned into him as he nuzzled your neck. “You done for the day?”

“There’s still lots to do,” you sighed. “But, yeah, it’s quitting time.”

Stark had made true to his word and called you with a job offer. Actually, he sent a currier with furniture catalogs and paint samples. Then he followed up with a phone call with the offer. Even though you knew the work you did for the CDC was important, working for Stark Industries and therefore with the Avengers could have even bigger impacts. Plus, the wages and fringe benefits couldn’t be beat.

You insisted on giving a four-week notice before coming to work for Stark in order to appropriately hand off the research project under your guidance. During that time Bucky would call you to see if you’d left the office, teasing about the long hours, promising that once you were within his reach he would make certain you never worked overtime.

Here it was your first day, and he was staying true to his word.

“You want to grab some dinner, Doll?”  

“Would we have to go anywhere?” You leaned into his chest, head resting upon his flesh shoulder. He generated so much heat. Melting into him, feeling the solidity of chest against yours, you really didn’t want to go out. You wanted the contact.  

“Just upstairs.” He breathed into your hair.

“That,” You purred, lips nipped his stubble covered jaw, “I'm all over that.”

He chuckled.  

“What?”

“Everything you say, Doll,” His voice dropped an octave, and he breathed in your ear, “just goes straight to my cock.”

You rubbed into him, feeling just how true it was. He groaned.

“Stop that,” he held your hips still. “Upstairs. Now.”

He pushed you away. You grabbed your purse and locked your office with a touch of your hand. The few people on your floor, the new team you would be working with, shot glances your way but didn’t really say much. Not everyone on staff got a personal visit from Stark. None of them got a personal escort from the Winter Soldier.  

At the elevator you caught the hard look on Bucky’s face.  

You leaned into him a little, wrapping your hands around his bicep. “No scaring the staff.”

“What?” His brows rose.

“You were giving them the eye.”

“They were staring.”

“Well, you’re hot as hell. Get over it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but a grin broke though the scowl. “You’re so full of shit.”

“They’re a bunch of researchers. They don’t go upstairs. Seeing one of you is rare, even working in the same building.” You chuckled. “They’re probably thinking I’ve slept my way into the job.”

His back went stiff, face hard. “If anyone so much as...”

“Hey,” You started but the elevator came. Pulling his royal angriness inside, you started over. “I meant they are undoubtedly wondering about the situation. It's human nature. Don’t worry. I can handle it. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I couldn’t.”

Bucky still looked murderous. “Still, if anyone dares to accuse you of anything like that...”

“Then I will be the one to rip their balls of and shove them down their throat.”

He went blank.

“I’ve been standing up for myself, especially in the professional arena, for a long time. I’m good at it. I know when to push back, and I know when to let people hang themselves.” You put your hands flat on his chest. “Buck, I appreciate you wanting to come to my defense, but in this situation you need to leave it to me. You saying anything, or Stark saying anything, will make me look weaker. Believe me.”

He covered your hands with his, “Hang themselves, huh?”

The elevator doors opened to the residential floor that you’d gotten to know so well in the last month. You turned towards Bucky’s suite. “Yep, nothing like watching an egotistical idiot fall on their face when they trip on their own bullshit. It's a thing of beauty.”

“Amen to that sister.” A voice came from the common room a few feet away. Natasha head popped over the edge of the sofa. “Hey, Y/N. How was the first day?”

“Overwhelming.” You paused. “It’s going to take a day or two to absorb everything. It’s all good though.”

“Well, welcome to the crew.” She turned back to whatever was on her laptop.

The shared kitchen was empty. You paused by the entrance but Bucky took your hand in his. Giving him a quizzical look, you followed. Upon entering his suite, you paused. A small ‘aw’ may have slipped out.

Bucky cleaned up the normal stack of books and mission papers from the table. It now held two place settings with covered plates, wine glasses, candles, and a single rose. The room smelled amazing. Dim lights and mellow old music completed the scene.  

“What is all this?”  

His strong arms wrapped around you from behind. “You seemed really interested in that fancy place Pepper was talking about last weekend. I appreciate that you know it’s not my kind of place. So I thought, I could bring some of the place to you instead.”

You looked over your shoulder in surprise.  

“I just, um, Pepper may have helped out with arranging for the delivery. I just wanted to do something special for your first day here, working, I mean.” Bucky pressed his forehead into your hair, holding you tight.  

It took effort to loosen his grip enough to let you turn around. A moment passed before his blue eyes lifted to your face. You beamed. Taking his face in your hands, you kissed him, slow, wet, full of gratitude. “You’re amazing.”

“You like it.”

“I’m going suck your dick so hard.” You smirked. He laughed. “After dinner.” You amended. He laughed harder.

The meal wrapped up with a decadent dark chocolate and white chocolate mousse. Midway through your beef bourguignon your shoes hit the corner, freeing your toes to rub on his legs. By the time you were eating the mousse, you were curled on the sofa, half in his lap and tasting the chocolate on each other’s lips.

Bucky trailed sweet, sticky, open mouth kisses down your neck. His hand massaged your inner thigh, slowly inching upward. “I want you to stay the night, Doll.”

You hummed, losing yourself to the sated feeling of a great meal, good wine, and the wonderful things Bucky did to your body. His mouth caught yours, drinking in your kiss, tongues dancing, pulling a moan from you. Shifting up to straddle his waist, you tugged at his shirt, throwing it aside to expose his power chest.

“You gonna stay?” He asked again.

“Yeah, Buck. I’ll stay tonight.” You smiled, silently wondering at his odd tone. It wasn’t unusual for you to stay the night at one or the other’s place. You’d done it plenty of times in your short six week relationship.  

“You know,” he began unbuttoning your blouse. “You can stay here whenever you want, Doll. Even if I’m not here.”

“Wha-,” You leaned back to get a better look at his face. “What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, soft eyes studying your face. His fingertips ghosted over your neck, pushed the blouse off your shoulders, and traced circles on you skin. “I’ve got to leave out tomorrow. If we don’t want the mission to get bloody it may take a while. Couple weeks. Maybe more.” His thumb traced over your bottom lip. “If you want to stay here, maybe, while I’m gone… you’re welcome to. I’ve already told FRIDAY to grant you access. You can come up anytime. Especially if you’re working late. I don’t want you having go all the way home by yourself. I mean, if you want to. It would make me feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe. There’s space. You could keep some things here.”

He was rambling. Bucky Barnes did not ramble. He couldn’t stop himself. Nerves just kept pushing words out.

You covered his lips with your finger. Excitement bubbled through your chest, but it couldn’t come out. It lodged there, stuck. You chest too tight with emotion. This man, this fiercely independent and private man, just offered you the digital equivalent to a key to his home. This sanctuary of his, he protected so vehemently that Stark wasn’t allowed surveillance. He’d even told you once Steve, his best friend, never came in without permission.  

Swallowing hard, you kissed him, pouring all the emotion you could into it. “Thank you.” You whispered.  

Bucky knew then. You understood. He smiled.  

You rolled your hips into him. “Tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah, we’ve only got,” he glanced at the clock. “Nine hours and twenty six minutes before I have to report.”

Biting his earlobe, you murmured, “Is that enough time?”

A squeal escaped your lips when he stood, hold you up. Your legs went around his waist. Still not used to his super-soldier strength, being manhandled by brought butterflies to your stomach. Bucky stalked into the bedroom, tossing you down on the mattress with a playful bounce.  

“Best hurry out of those clothes, Doll. Clock’s ticking.” He shed clothes, smiling at you with a wicked grin all the while. You didn’t quite have your pants kicked off, so he yanked them free and tossed them at the wall over his shoulder.  

Your laugh melted into something deeper as Bucky’s hands slid up your legs. His mouth ran a wet trail along your right leg. He lifted it to rest on his shoulder as he nipped his way across your inner thighs. Hot wet tongue, rough beard, along smooth sensitive skin had you soon panting. His fingers brushed against your folds, pushing you open and laying you bare for him. Slick, pink and swollen, Bucky’s eyes went dark at the sight.

First his breath washed over you, searing and feather light. The sight of his eyes looking back at you, desire blown, seared into your brain. His mouth fell upon you, lapping and rubbing, tongue heavy and soft then firm and demanding. Lips suckling at your clit until the tension pooled and moans poured from your mouth. 

He danced you right to the edge, only to pull away, kissing your thigh and stroking your body. You whined. “Fuck, that’s not fair.”

“What do you,” he ran his tongue across ultra sensitive flesh, “want?”

“I want your fingers to fuck my cunt. Uh, god. I want that gorgeous mouth on me until I come all over your face.”

Bucky growled, hips involuntarily rubbing into the mattress. He loved the dirty words that fell from your mouth. The sound of your lust filled breath drove him mad. His mouth closed over you again, he hummed with pleasure at your cry of “Oh, fucking hell, that’s it!”

Fingers pumping in you clenching cunt, mouth and tongue attacking your clit, you pulled at his hair. Words spilled from your mouth without thought. “Shit. Oh fuck. Bucky, you’re so fucking good.”  

He pulled away again.  

“No! Fucking hell, please, Bucky!”

The most sinful, wicked chuckle rumbled from his mouth across your sex just as he attacked you with enthusiasm. Vulgar slurps and lapping. Delighted moans and hums. Fingers curling and drawing at your g-spot.  

“Bucky!” You orgasm crashed into you, shaking your body, whiting out your mind, flooding Bucky’s face.  

Feeling him crawl up your body, you tried to focus. An amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Gonna live, Doll?”

“Fuck me, yes.” You smiled, but still couldn’t move.  

“Gladly,” He strong hands flipped you over, pulling your ass up to him. His cock slipped in, stretching and filling you balls deep, with one powerful thrust. “Goddamn, you feel good.”

He moaned, panting, as his pumped in to you, hands digging into your hips. Flipping hair to the side, you looked back at him, strong and powerful. His hair fell in his eyes. Mouth dropped open. He watched himself slide in and out.  

“So funking sexy,” you breathed.

Bucky’s eyes rose to meet yours, heavy and intense. He quickly flipped you over, draping your knees over his forearms and pulled your hips up to meet his. He thrust into you with strong, hard strokes. His metal thumb skimmed over your clit.  

Watching every move, every flush and quiver of your body, he memorized every erotic detail. Massaging your own tits, pulling at your nipples, he groaned. “Fuck, Doll, so beautiful. Feels so, ah, good.”  

Your hips tilted and the drag of Bucky’s cock pushed you to the edge again. He knew, watched your chest flush, felt your legs twitch. “Come for me, Doll. Ah, fuck baby, come with me.”

You did. He slammed into with a curse. Your body flooded with intensity, sensations overwhelming. Bucky fell forward and kissed you, messy and lazy.  

He nuzzled your neck. “Mmm, that’s a good start to the night.”

You laughed, not letting him pull away just yet. “You plan on fucking me into a coma?”

“Hm” He agreed, already stirring again. God bless his enhancements.

“You really don’t mind if I’m here when you’re gone?” You had to admit sleeping in a bed that smelled like him would be a wonderful thing.

“Really.” He kissed a line down your neck and across your shoulder.

“Am I going to find any weird kinky porn and sex toys?” You teased.

He laughed, taking your arms and pining you down. “Do you want to?”

You only arched a brow at him.

* * *

You phone rang making you jump. Answering it right away, “Hey.”

“Hey, back” Bucky’s smooth voice rumbled across the line. “Did I wake you?”

“No, just, um, getting ready.” You bit your lip.

“Ready for what, Doll?” You silence stretched. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I’m at your place.”

“Okay.”

“I miss you.”

“Miss you, too.” It’d been six days since he’d left. “What are you doing?”

He could hear it in your voice, you knew it. “I haven’t changed the pillow cases. They still smell like you.”

“M-hmm”

“And, I kind of stole one of your black tee shirts.”

“You wearing it now, Doll?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?” He breathed.

“No. Nothing.” Your purred.

“Okay, your in my bed, wearing just my tee shirt. You miss me. Baby, is your pussy dripping for me?”

“Yes.”  

“You touching yourself?” Bucky leaned back against the headboard in his crappy hotel, hand cupping his balls and rubbing the tip of his hardening cock. “Tell me.”

“Once I got up here, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you make me feel. You mouth on my body. Your hand on me, in me. It was so strong. I used the shower, washed myself with everything that smelled like you. The shower head wasn’t enough. I was aching. I was thinking about the time you fucked me up against the bathroom counter. I could see you, the look on your face while fucking me hard. God, Baby, I was so worked up.”

“What’d you do about it, Doll?” His hand now stroked himself more firmly.

“I, ah,” You breathed, touching yourself again despite your recent release. “I had to touch myself, had to pump my fingers into my cunt, thinking of you. I’m so wet.”

“Now?”

“Now. I laid here and thought about you. How I want to run my tongue over your abs. Want take your heavy cock in my mouth, taste you, feel your hands in my hair. Want you to fuck my mouth like you did before you left.” He panted as you spoke. “I want you to turn me over and slam your cock into me. Rough and hard, making my scream.” He growled. The fingers between your legs sped up. “Want to feel your mouth on my neck, on my tits. God, when you fucking suck my tits, my cunt just soaks.”

“Doll, when I get home, I’m going to spank your perky ass for this.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned. He’d given your as a smack, but the idea of more made you insides clench. “You going to punish me for teasing you? For telling you I’m laid out on your bed, legs open and fingers deep in my cunt. Are you, ah, going to spank me for coming without you?”

“Holy shit, Doll.” Bucky could see it. “Are you about to come, baby?”

“Yes,” You panted. “So, un, so fucking close.”

“I’m going to bend you over and fuck you hard, ah, squeeze those gorgeous tits, and play with that yummy little clit until you’re screaming. Uh, when you come, fuck, it’s, ah, amazing.” He moaned. You knew the sound. He was there. He was coming.

You moaned over the receiver as the quivered of another orgasm took over your body.

Bucky hummed into the phone. “Fuck, Doll. I was just calling to say ‘hey’ but this was so much better.”  

Laughing you rolled over, head on Bucky’s pillow, cradling the cell phone. “Anytime. You’ve got my number.”    

[celestenicolegarcia]

Valentines Day

Valentines Day. A day where people celebrate being in love or having someone to love on. Usually when we think of Valentines Day, we think of spending time with our significant other and having sweet treats and great food. People that are alone however, tend to either be on the spectrum of hating Valentines Day or not even caring about it because it's a government holiday. The annoyed single people hate it because of the sappy couple postings, cheesy romantic comedies, stalking their ex’s profiles to see what they're doing, and themselves spending it alone. 

As a single person myself I can honestly say that I am not upset that I am single this Valentines Day. Maybe its just me getting older and not caring about having someone or maybe I’ve just been tired of the men I have been dating that I don’t feel the need to date anymore. Most of my life I have been in relationships that have the length of 6 months to 3 years being the longest. As far as being in love, I can recall myself truly being in love with a man twice in my lifetime. One was my high school sweetheart and the other was a guy I dated a few years ago, neither shall I say were something I want today, A Godly man.

I don’t know about you but I have had my fair share of men throughout my life. Before I came to know Christ, I was in and out of relationships faster than you could imagine. Some weren’t even real relationships and they were mostly hookups. I did sleep around for money, food, drugs, or just simply wanted the affection. Don’t get it twisted though, even when I found Christ when I was 24 years old I did have a few slip-ups. I still had sex but this time it was within a relationship so I thought it was “okay” since we were together. I just look back at that girl and think man... why didn’t you just run to Jesus when you were lonely? why a warm body? what was going on at home that you had to run off? why did you disobey your parents and screw up your friendships?

A lot of these questions were hard to think of at the time but I simply didn’t care. I just thought since I believed and gave my life to Jesus I was okay and going to heaven. But I was wrong now looking back. Talk about someone who was lost and just wanting a quick fix of affection but not wanting to go to the source. I would always tell myself that I was perfect and that it was the men always screwing up, now I look back at that girl and say get off your high horse and look in the mirror because you are no saint. You are a lukewarm christian trying to make it in the world and not even looking up at the father, only looking at yourself. And that was the breaking point for me to start turning my life around and taking my life more seriously as well as my relationship with God. Attending bible study, going to church, having accountability partners, and managing my own mental health with therapy. Believe me, when I started looking at Jesus and not of the worldly standards my life got clearer but harder at the same time. When you give your life up for Jesus its not always going to be easy, the more you reach up to Him the more the devil is going to wanna block you from your blessings.

 Would you believe me if I told you that I said I’ve never been proposed to? I’m 28 now about to be 29 and I just think to myself sometimes ...why? I’m a good looking woman, attending school online to get my masters degree for psychology, attending church and bible studies, working a part time job doing my hair business since I have my cosmetology license, and I am pretty nice and shall I say funny. Let me tell you, the thoughts of feeling not good enough have come into my mind but I know those are not pure or the right thoughts that Jesus wants me to be thinking. Don’t even get me started on my family members asking me when I’m going to have a baby or pressuring me to adopt. Before you start thinking let me stop you right there and say I love children. I think they are the cutest little people in the world but right now kids are the very last thing on my mind!

I want to encourage you and encourage myself as I feel the Holy Spirit is within me typing up this blog to let you know that you don’t need to be swooped up like in those Disney movies to be truly happy. Let me also say that if you are married or in a relationship am I by no means trying to knock down your union with your spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend. the Bible says in Ecclesiastes 4:9 “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep war,. But how can one keep warm alone?” Marriage is a union and should be sacred. Honor your husband and honor your wife, you both are a team made in the image of our Holy Father.

God created us to love one another no matter what. Even if someone else is having what you wish you had, let them be happy in their life. Love them and support them. Be a good friend and helping hand. Whenever you get angry or jealous of someone else's success remember that God isn't finished with you yet! He has more blessings coming your way and just because you aren’t happy yourself does not mean you take out your personal feelings on others. If someone is mean to you or belittling you because you express how you don’t wanna be alone or hurt because you and your boyfriend/girlfriend broke up, take the high road. Don’t let anyone steal your joy because joy can only come from the Lord and no one else. He is after all the one who created happiness! 

I remember when I would take things so personally and I would want to hurt the people who have hurt me. Even if they did deserve to be punished, I know the one who has that power to give me justice. I have yet to type down my testimony on here but I will when I have the time because its pretty lengthy but you will see why I think the way that I do now. Before I used to hold grudges really badly towards the people who have hurt me. When I tell you I have been through the wringer, I mean it. I have been sexually abused by people who I thought would never hurt me, I have been verbally abused by people who I thought would never hurt me and last by not least I have both been verbally and sexually abused from people I hardly even knew. I have been told I am scum of the earth and no one will want me and I have also been told that no one is going to want leftover goods. I have been sexually assaulted in a place of work. I have been raped by a few men in my past. Some I knew and some I didn’t. All those things have stuck with me but they do not define me. The only one who defines me is Jesus Christ and thank God I have a savior because I can’t live this life all by myself, If I try I would probably would have died by now. I have in the past held these situations in my heart and it has caused me so much pain. Trust me, I wanted revenge but I never got it. Then God really brought me down to a place where I forgave them and myself. My anger cannot bring justice for what they have done, only God can. One movie that really sticks out to me is The Shack, now that is a good movie to watch about forgiveness. If you have time, check it out because you won't regret it.

Another verse comes to mind for me is Luke 6 27-33 “But to you who are willing to listen I say, love your enemies! Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, offer the other cheek also. If someone demands your coat, offer your shirt also.Give to anyone who asks; and when things are taken away from. you, don’t try to get them back. Do to others as you would like them to do to you. If you only love only those who love you, why should you get credit for that? Even sinners love those who love them! And if you do good only to those who do good to you, why should you get credit? Even sinners do that much!”

Jesus said that when we love people even when they have hurt us. We have to be the ones that rise up from the earthy things going on in the world. I know I tended to go a little off topic but days like this remind me of my past and it brings me to the present. I want to let you know that you aren't alone today. You do have a valentine and his name is Jesus Christ. He will always be perfect. He will never leave you. He will always be there for you no matter what time of the day or night it is. He will never call you names or do things to hurt you, only help you become the best version of yourself. Valentines Day is a fun holiday but it does not define who love truly is. Love is a person and His name is Jesus. I encourage you to reach out to someone today, even if you aren’t feeling like it. Tell someone you love them today and you are there for them. Tell them that you are thinking of them. Jesus loves you and He will never let you go. I remember when my pastor said this line and ill never forget it. “Once you let Him in, He won't move out!” and I firmly believe that til the day I die. 

If you haven’t already and you would like to give your life to Jesus today repeat after me. Jesus, I need you. I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. But I need a savior and I’m ready for my life to change for the better. Take me out of myself and let me live the life you promised for me. I love you. I accept you into my life. I welcome you. Amen.

Thank you for taking the time to read my second blog post! I really enjoy doing these posts. They help me vent what I feel and I want to let someone know that they are loved today! 

Much love,

Celeste

[chyrstis]

I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 9/10

Fell off of the updating schedule big-time with this one, but better late than never! There’s only one left to go here after this, and if I can motivate myself properly, I’d love to have another ficlet ready by that update to add to this AU too. Until then, let’s get back to the happier side of things.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 3.3K  

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

—

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

———–

Every shovel Sharky owned he threw in the trunk. Packed them all, and didn’t care if they all bumped into each other as he took every corner faster than he should’ve.

That shouldn’t have worked. Hell, that shouldn’t have registered or been anything close to a winning proposition, but he said yes. John picked up, he heard him say yes, and that was all it took for him to throw everything aside for it. To grab Hurk, tell him what's what and go, and he was willing to dive in headfirst just to get an answer. All just to have the chance to put a pin in any of this.

And to see him, but he’d known that for a while now.

The white that covered everything as he pulled up was beautiful. Almost too pretty to mess with, but the wheels of his car drew jagged lines through it, and after getting out he had to hold back on the urge to drop down and see how good of a snow angel he could pull off.

Grabbing one of the shovels, Sharky trudged over to the front door, and stood there. Stared at the doorbell like it was going to jump out at him until he jabbed at it. Then hit it one more time just to make sure it worked.

After that came the waiting. That was what sucked, and after a few seconds of it, he started fumbling for a cigarette. Searching both pockets, however, gave him nothing. Not a loose one, not pocket lint, but he did find some stray matches.

Taking one out, he twisted it between his fingers as he kept on patting himself down, and dropped it when the door opened and he caught John looking out at him.

John, cautious, but hopeful, and that was all he needed for that old feeling to kick in again. The one he’d tried to put out and failed, and he forced himself to do anything to get the ball rolling. Anything, just to keep from staring at John dreamily as he stood there on his doorstep.

Pulling himself up, Sharky grabbed for the shovel and held it out in front of him. Almost like one would a spear, and he cleared his throat.

“Yo, so snow. You got a lot of it here.”

Giving the area behind Sharky a passing glance, John nodded slightly. “It appears to be so.”

“And I know you want that shit out, and fast. Now I’ve got a few ways of doing that. Got the traditional way, the express way, and the uh, Boshaw Barbeque way. Not gonna just limit you to one, I figured you’d want the full set of things to pick from.”

The look of interest in John’s eyes grew. “I remember you mentioning a few over the phone. Any recommendations?”

“Well, namesake’s kinda a no-brainer. ‘Cause usually that means I can go a round or two outside with my flamethrower. Torch the shit out of it and clear it out without thinking too much.” Stopping to rub at his neck as he thought it over, he made a face. “Think that might be the express way too.”

“So, two out of the three ways involve…fire?”

“Uh, yeah. Kinda my go-to for most things, but I figured you might wanna limit that.”

John’s reply came fast, “Agreed.”

“But the others are still open. If you change your mind, I’ve got her loaded up back there. Takes nothing to just whip it out on a second’s notice, and get the job done. But ol’ faithful it is. Just shoveling that shit, and shoveling it well. And I could probably dig up a few testimonials for that too, if you wanna go through them first.”

John raised a hand to rub at his lips, considering him as he stood there. “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. As entertaining as I’m sure that would be, your word will do just fine.”

“So,” setting the shovel down, Sharky cleared his throat, “ready to work with Boshaw and er…well, it’s just one Boshaw, but I like the idea of having a name for it. Makes it sound all official, ‘cause it’s coming together. Just slowly.”

“You do have name recognition on your side right now. Or would that be more notoriety?”

“Hey, being known for something’s not all bad. Being known for the kind of thing that you’ll be using? Guarantees you’ll make it work. And here? Still offering up a service, and fire or not it’s getting done. So, fuck it. Tell me where to start, and I’ll get right on that.”

Barely hiding a smile behind his hand, John gestured indoors, “Let me get my coat.”

---

This was going well. The kind of well that had him hoping there wasn’t something awful waiting just behind the scenes to strike, because his hopes were at an all-time high, and Sharky wasn’t ready to let them crash back down to earth.

John took another shovel, with the reasoning behind it being that one man couldn’t possibly put a dent into any of this alone. Not quickly. It was his fault for having a fucking mansion for starters, but the minute he started chipping in, Sharky couldn’t quite keep the grin off of his face.

“More snow’s coming in tonight,” John said, not breathing hard yet, but each one left his mouth in a white puff. “Not heavy, but enough to make it a problem.”

“See, we could get all of this taken care of in a night, but I know my method’s off the table. Just offering that again, in case you’re looking for something quick and easy.”

“And I appreciate the offer, but I fail to see how that would make it easier.”

“Just point, work the trigger a little to see how you like it, then gently sweep the stream back and forth.”

Making the motion with his hands, he rocked back and forth, putting his hips into it too, and only stopped when he noticed the wry way John was looking at him.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. That shit works wonders when you’ve got twenty feet of snow and only one buckaroo around to move it all.”

John set his hands on top of the shovel. “Namely yourself.”

“Yeah, though Hurk’s had my back ever since we were little. He’s been there for me for anything and everything, and if I asked right now he’d be at my house in ten with a sled and a spare shovel. Course we’d skid down any slopes first, ‘cause an opportunity like that you just don’t pass up, but after he’d throw in with me to cart that shit out. No complaining, or fussing, or nothing. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. Just sucks he’s out of town often as he is. Seen some real strange shit too, going off of what he’s brought up.”

“Well, maybe you won’t have to handle it alone next time.”

Sharky paused mid-shovel. “Say what?”

“You could…ask.”

“Ask you?”

John tilted his head to the side, glancing down briefly before making eye contact again. “I understand I’m not going to bring a lot of firepower to it, but it’s another set of hands.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah," he said, shaking off the surprise that had set in. "Having two heads and four sets of hands to use? It sure would be. Maybe clear all that snow up before that tingly sensation kicks in, you know that kind where you lose the feeling in your fingers? What a thing that’d be." And the idea of it was more than enough to put a broad smile on his face. "Thanks, man.”

John waved him off, but let his attention linger on him even after going back to shoveling. That might’ve made Sharky put his back into it a little more, when he wasn’t trying to look over at him himself.

Pink started to tint John’s face, mainly his cheeks, which reminded him of one of those old Christmas figurines he had a bad habit of knocking over at his grandma’s. Rosy-cheeked, probably ghost-touched, going off of some of their weirder bumps in the night that happened during the holidays, but still smiling and happy. John wasn’t smiling directly, but every time their eyes met, he caught something there. Not even one of those ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ type moments, but there. It made that warm feeling run through his chest again, and Sharky felt his mouth moving before he could stop it.

“You know, uh…you can come by again. Anytime. Just to shoot the shit, hang, dodge Broseph or Jake if they’re getting at you. Or hell, bring ‘em. We can all rock the firepit, I’ll set up some music, and we can just chill.”

Sharky cleared his throat, focused right on the pile of snow that kept on growing, and kept on talking.

“Or we could hop in Hurk’s truck, go do some ice fishing, but by giving it the ol’ Shurky one-two fer. You know, ‘cause Hurkie and I came up with it, and if we wanna trademark that it’d take a while, but you’re a lawyer. We could all sit down, you slap on a suit and crack open that briefcase of yours, and set us up while you’re throwing around all of that shit they say on Law and Order, and…oh, fuck.”

He stopped and crunched enough numbers to sweat.

“That whole talking bit’s got a price tag too, huh? Shit, think you could uh, swing a bit of a first time customer satisfaction guaranteed deal for-“

He turned as John reached his side, and yelped as he yanked him forward by the front of his coat. Kissed him in full, his lips cold, but his breath warm. So warm, and so much closer than he had been not even a minute before.

The shovel hit the snow, falling right out of his hands. Trying not to trip over it, Sharky moved forward, grabbing for him as John slid a hand up behind his head. Kissed him back. Just like he’d wanted to weeks back. Days back. Today, soon after seeing him at his front door. Like he could right now, even as words kept on trying to bubble up and spill out.

But he was here. John was on him, kissing him, moaning into his mouth, and he couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it even as it was happening.

Breaking away, Sharky pulled back. Blinked and held his eyes shut for a few seconds just to see if he could ground himself. But John was still there when he opened them. Still there, still holding onto him, and nearly pinched himself just to be sure.

Sharky laughed. “Fuck, man. You just…you like throwing me off balance, don’t you?”

“Me? That’s you. Has been you from the very first day I met you,” John said, stroking his cheek. “Officially, at least. This fool that thought it’d be a fine idea to borrow a boat - while intoxicated at that - and trusted he would be able to return it.”

“Hey, I only failed step four. Nearly had profit too, but…uh, yeah.” Leaning into John’s touch, Sharky let his eyes fall shut. “Better that I didn’t. Hindsight being twenty-forty and all that.”

“Twenty-twenty.”

“Whatever. But-“ But why? The thought crept in, and his smile grew brittle. “You change your mind, or…?”

John’s eyebrows drew together. “About what?”

“You didn’t… I didn’t think you-“

A shaky breath slipped out, and Sharky couldn’t help it. Took two steps back to get some distance between them.

“I’d run through this before. Thought this shit over, and you weren’t interested. And that’s cool, not everyone is. Shit, I didn’t even think I was until it fucking laid me out. ‘Cause when I said I liked you, I liked you. Like, enough to put up with damn near anything just to get a few more minutes with you.”

John let out a breath, and pressed a hand to his eyes. Murmured something softly to himself that Sharky couldn’t quite catch, only for John to repeat it soon after. “It wasn’t you.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“‘You’ that made a mistake. I did. And letting you think that for as long as I did wasn’t fair. Not to you.”

When he lowered his hand, Sharky didn’t need to guess the expression crossing John for once. Regret came through clear as day.

“I don’t have friends. For a long time it wasn’t wise to, and the ones that I did make quickly showed me it was only for what they could get out of me. What they could take. Others took it further than that, and…I did the same in turn. Took people that I could’ve grown close to, and trusted, and used them instead. Ruined what could’ve been something wonderful. Something to cherish, and hold on to.”

John pursed his lips together, and gave him a rueful look.

“I knew what this was building towards. Ignored it. Then let myself want it. Where was the harm? But there’s always a catch to wanting. Wanting something, or someone. Was I doing it again? Being selfish? Taking that, twisting it just enough to make it into something that would harm more than help?”

Searching his eyes, John started reaching for him before drawing his hand back to his chest.

“But did you even want me? As a friend or anything else? I thought I saw the first there, and gave little thought before trying to see what was beyond that.”

“Like, I kissed you,” Sharky said, frowning slightly. “That’s…that wasn’t crossing any wires there.”

“But I put you in that position. When we stopped-”

“John, I was full on set to keep on going, man. Like, I wanted it. Thought you’d stopped, realized what the fuck was going on and decided to slam on the brakes once you’d got some sense back. And sure, I needed to cool it and think it over, but that was just…” Sharky paused, and drew in a deep breath, “just to come to realize how much I liked being around you. Okay, getting hit with the whole ‘shit, guess I’m bi too’ bit didn’t hurt, but I wanted to be there. Wanted to finish all of this, and maybe see where it’d go after that. And you, uh…”

“I came home. I told you we were done, and forced you off of my property.”

“Yeah,” Sharky replied, looking away. “Yeah, it pretty much went like that.”

“It was…I thought I was making a wise choice. To put that distance back where it should’ve been the entire time, because I was making the same mistakes all over again. And I didn’t trust myself with that. Or you.”

“And I wanna respect that. You’ve gotta do right by you, and you didn’t wanna fuck me up, but…maybe it’s not always gonna lead straight to a bad end, you know?” John kept his eyes on Sharky as he took a few steps closer, on edge, but not backing away from him, and Sharky continued, “I mean, I’ve heard you like having me around. Is that right?”

That, John didn’t hesitate to answer. “I do.”

It brought a smile out, and Sharky didn’t hide it. “Already told you how I feel. Unless…you want me to go over that a little again. Break it down some more.”

John raised his chin. “I might.”

“Okay, let’s see,” Sharky said, rubbing his hands together. “I like you. Like hanging with you, and shooting the shit. Like working on your plane. Car’s also good, and I like looking at you, though uh, that’s not the sentimental kind of thing we’re going for right now.”

John chuckled, “No, not quite.”

“But it was nice being here. Being wanted. Knowing you wanted me here at all, even if it was only to fix shit up at first. And to get sprayed the hell out of, but that was a bad moment. Got the drop on me, and I wasn’t super slick when it came to getting out of it. But I handled it, and later on, I had some other cool moments.”

“True. We can’t forget that.”

“And I uh, mentioned the talking, right?”

“You did, but as nice as that was, maybe I liked looking at you too.”

Sharky blushed, laughing at it only to grow quiet when John stepped closer. Almost enough to cross back into his space, and felt his breath catch.

“Just like right now.”

“Well, uh, shit,” Sharky sputtered, as John ran a hand up the front of his coat, right along the zipper. He toyed with that enough for Sharky to drop his eyes only to park them right on John’s lips, “Um. That right?”

“Yes, I believe so. But if you need any convincing, I could go into more detail.” The look John wore now he’d have to be blasted beyond all comprehension to deny. “Break it down some more.”

“You talking a lot? Or like-”

John tugged him close enough to share a few directly with him, breath all too hot against his ear as he did so. Outlining everything in the kind of painstaking detail he’d come to expect. But this wasn’t history, flying, or anything having to deal with the nuts, bolts, or screws of the boathouse.

This was all about him. The subject of choice, and the thing that kept John pressed right up against him. What he’d noticed. What he’d liked. Painting just the kind of picture Sharky would’ve been all too glad to slot into, especially if it kept John at his ear like this. Whispering the kind of things he’d never thought he’d ever hear him say.

“…Fuck me running, man. You ain’t messing around any.”

“It pays to be thorough.” John’s lips grazed him, brushing his earlobe as he stayed close, and every breath coming out of him made him want to curl in closer. “To never overlook a single detail, no matter how small, or insignificant it might seem.“

Swallowing thickly, Sharky rasped, “Speaking of details, I might’ve missed one last thing here. Really meant to bring it up.”

“What?”

“The whole kissing part.” Leaning back to look at him, their noses brushed together as he didn’t quite escape John’s orbit. Stayed well within range as he hovered closer and closer by the second. “Liked that a whole hell of a lot too.”

Kissing him this time wasn’t a problem. No, it was all too easy as he wrapped his arms around John, and held him as close as possible.

John’s fingers ran through his hair, knocking his winter cap off onto the snow, and he shivered. More from the cold than the gesture, but John seemed set on giving it a run for its money anyway. He didn’t pull, just tugged him closer as he deepened the kiss, dragging a moan right up and out of Sharky’s throat in record time. He also seemed set on finding a way to slip his hands under Sharky’s coat, and he barely held off from giving John added access. ‘Cause stripping was totally cool. Stripping outside in this weather was a dumbass stunt, and he held off.

Soon though, John broke the kiss to whisper something into his ear. Distracted by the feeling of his lips on his neck, Sharky leaned into him, and felt him laugh as he repeated what he’d initially said.

“Much as I like this,” John said, his breath warm against him, “standing out here with you, I think it’d be a lot more pleasant inside. Where it’s warmer for one, and maybe we can also find a few other means of keeping it that way. Do you agree?”

Sharky swallowed hard at the suggestion, nervous, but eager. “Yeah, let’s…let’s do it.”

Grabbing John’s hand, he squeezed it tight. And when he felt himself being guided towards the house, he stayed close behind.