#Also I did decide to take a break right after he throws her into space to kill her bc I need time to absorb it

[r0bee]

REX AND AMANDA'S ROMANCE HAS ME ABSOLUTELY FUCKED UP RN OH MY GOD

(full on comic spoilers under the cut just in case)

FUCKING ME UPPPPP

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hellooo! I love love love your writing, you're so incredibly talented!! I just got my period and I'm in so much pain (sorry if it's tmi), but all I have on my mind is Cregan Stark (i'm obsessed) -- so I just got this idea: what if the reader is supposed to do some of her duties in Winterfell, but she just got her period? And besides the pain she's feeling, she's also disappointed she isn't pregnant yet. She doesn't want to tell Cregan how much pain she's in, knowing he's so strong and thinking he would judge her and lose respect for her, so she tries to go on with her duties, but he notices something is wrong. After he talks to her about it, and figures out what's wrong, what if he cancels all the plans of the day just to lay with her and comfort her? And she's shocked he would do something like that for her.

I'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable, and if you don't want to write it, I understand! Thank you so much!!

love love love this... as a girl with painful periods, i just need to be held. i hope i delivered well! wc: 1.2k

warnings: crying, mentions of childbearing, mentions of throwing up and bleeding, cregan is a big softie and loves his wife, cregan stark fucks (implied)

You woke up feeling the cold, empty space next to you. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Feeling a sharp pain in your stomach, your hand shot up to it. You swung yourself out of bed quickly, running to the nearest bucket.

Your handmaiden entered just in time to see you throw up. Rushing to your side, she helped you clean up. As she helped to change your clothes, you noticed a red splotch in your small clothes.

A tear ran down your face. You had started bleeding, which meant you weren’t pregnant. For nearly a moon now, you and Cregan tried your hardest to have children, but you can see your efforts had been wasted.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You were collapsed on the floor, you turned your head to your handmaiden, tears in your eyes, “Tell me, speak freely please… what do you think Cregan will say when he finds out I cannot make an heir for him?”

Your handmaiden was only slightly older than you, but you could tell she was full of knowledge. She was a full northerner, seeing many winters and understanding the life there. She helped to guide you through the customs of the North and had taken up a maternal role in your life.

She came down to your level, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “You are still young, Lady Stark. You have much time still. Pregnancy does not always come easy. I do not think Lord Stark will see you any differently, he married you for love, not childbearing. He will not see you as any less because you did not become with child very quickly.”

“But what if he decides that there is another lady, a northern lady, more equipped to carry his children? What if he wishes to bed another?”

“Lord Stark is the most loyal man out there. He would not break your oath of marriage because you are not pregnant yet,” she wiped your tears from your face, “You are too in your own head, my lady.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “I suppose you are right, but please do not tell him about my bleeding. I do not want him to know.”

“I think it would be best to tell him—”

“No,” you stood, wiping the dust off your gown, “And that is a command.”

Your lady stood, nodding at your request, “Whatever pleases you, Lady Stark.”

Taking a breath you walked to the doors, “I will continue with my duties today, and you will not speak of what happened this morn.”

“Of course, Lady Stark.”

Every moon you bled, there was lots of pain to follow, mostly in your stomach and sometimes in your lower back. Recently, the pain has gotten worse, almost debilitatingly so. It was not smart of you to take on more than you needed to.

You made your way around Winterfell, trying to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities. In the kitchens, you oversaw the food preparation. During this, it was the first time the employees of your castle noticed the change in your behavior.

You walked around the kitchen when a sudden sharp pain hit your stomach. You grabbed onto the counter with one hand, and grabbed at your stomach with the other. Your face contorted in pain and a quiet hiss came out of your mouth.

Many rushed to your side, “My lady, are you alright?”

You pushed each one away, feeling the pain subside. Sucking in a sharp breath, you stood straight again, “I am fine.”

Leaving the kitchens quickly you decided to oversee the training yards, hoping not to run into your husband quite yet. You made your way to the ground level, watching a couple small children practice fighting with wooden swords.

You watched them, the slightest hint of pain ghosted along your features. You didn’t notice your husband watching your figure from behind you. He startled you, coming up to hug your waist, inadvertently causing pain to your stomach.

Wincing slightly, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing you gently. You tried your hardest to hide your pain, but Cregan always knows when there is something wrong, to your dismay.

“Is there something amiss, wife?”

You removed his hands from you, turning to face him, and kissing him gently.

“Why would there be? I am here with you.”

He looked at you skeptically, but returned your kiss.

You could not let him find out about your pain, he is the strongest man you know. You feared he might think less of you if he knew of your menial pain, you are sure he has endured much worse beyond the wall or during the wintertimes.

Your husband holds great respect for the strongest of his men, so if he found out about your inability to go on with your daily chores during the time of your bleeding, he might not think you worthy of his love or respect.

“I must go, I have things to tend to around the castle.”

“You cannot take a moment away from your duties to spend with your husband?”

“Cregan, really, I should go.”

He has never seen you so hasty to leave his side. He watched as you nearly ran from him. Instead of staying put he followed behind you, ending the chase at your shared bed chambers.

He entered, nodding at the guards posted outside.

“Why do you run from me?”

You turned, wiping the tears that fell from your face, “Cregan? What are you doing here? I’m sure you have many more important matters—”

“I do not. Tell me what is the matter, my girl.”

“There is nothing,” you stepped away from him and towards your bed, holding your stomach in pain.

He noticed your actions and came to sit on the bed, “Have you started bleeding today?”

You looked away from him, embarrassed. He took you hand, “Do not shy away from me, there is nothing to be embarassed of.”

You turned to meet his eyes, “But it means I am not with child! I cannot bear an heir and I am weak with my pains. I am not deserving to even be near you.”

He looked at you with a largly concered expression, his brows were furrowed so hard they almost touched. He pulled you onto his lap, “Not deserving? If anything, it is I who is not deserving of you. I have seen many men in my times and yet none of them are as strong as you. You are bleeding from the inside and you still are trying to force yourself to do dull tasks.”

He wipes your tears, “Do not fret about carrying our child, we have only been trying for a bit of time now.”

“But I do not want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing could ever make me disappointed in you, my girl. I promise.”

You sniffled, leaning into him, “You should get back to the training yard, I’m sure your men need you more than I.”

“No. We are going to stay here today, I will tell the guards at the door to inform the rest of the castle.”

“Cregan! You cannot!”

“I can do whatever I wish, I am the Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell,” he smiled at you lovingly, kissing the tip of your nose.

After discarding his duties for the day, he came and layed with you in bed, snuggling up close. After your week of hells was over, it was safe to say that you did not have to worry about bleeding again for the next nine moons.

————

taglist: @wolvestitches

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[mixelation]

ummmm more parenthood 2, which is now titled "motherhood and other world-alerting endeavors"

i know i want to do a six year time skip, and also i want to keep the format of the first scene being naruto's POV, but im debating how i want to introduce what kushina has been up to. so..... idk, this might get rearranged

also i decided to kill hiruzen off last second so NO i do not know who hokage is!!!!

*****

“Um…” Naruto's dad said, looking around them. They were out in a forest, with trees skinnier than the ones Naruto was used to climbing around Konoha. There was the sound of birds, but no bustle of city life that Naruto was used to hearing when he went into the stretches of forest in Konoha. 

Minato’s grip on his hand tightened. “Dad?” Naruto asked. 

Minato grinned down at him, looking sheepish like he did whenever he was about to tell Naruto he’d accidentally burned part of dinner or that they had to go do boring work. 

“We might be a little lost,” Minato said. “Here, let’s take a water break, and I’ll figure out where we are.”

Naruto was pretty sure half the “water breaks” his dad made him take were just so Minato could figure out what to do next. During training, they occurred suspicious frequently after Naruto admitted he didn’t understand something about doing ninja stuff, and then his dad wouldn’t drink his own water and just frown into space like he was thinking really hard. 

Naruto took his water anyway. He was a little bit thirsty. His dad closed his eyes in concentration, which was new. 

When Minato didn’t immediately explain what was up, Naruto decided to make a game out of throwing his water canteen into the air and catching it. His first toss was really easy, so he threw it a little higher the second time. This one he fumbled a little but still caught. So then, he threw it as hard as he could, and it went sailing away from him. 

His dad snatched it out of the air. 

“Naruto, be careful with your things,” he said absentmindedly, tapping his chin in thought. 

Minato handed Naruto his water back, and Naruto rolled it in his hands. 

“My Hiraishin network,” Minato said slowly. “Is… still not right…”

“Hiraishin?” Naruto asked. Hiraishin was his dad's cool teleportation technique. Were they going to do it again?

“Remember how I put markers everywhere?” Minato asked, and Naruto nodded. “I can, um, sense where they all are. So, I know Konoha is two days south, but the network of markers is wrong for my Konoha, and it’s also wrong for your Konoha, and I think we’re in… Grass Country, for some reason.”

“Huh?” Naruto said. Basically all he understood was that his dad had messed up and stuck them in the wrong country. His dad didn’t seem panicked though, so Naruto wasn’t upset. 

Minato smiled down at him, and Naruto could basically see the gears in his head turning to try explaining it again to Naruto. His dad was kind of lousy at explanations the first time, but he always tried again and again until Naruto understood. Naruto liked that about him. 

But then, instead of explaining, Minato’s face suddenly went super serious. He scooped Naruto up into his arms, rotated, and threw a bunch of kunai into the trees. 

A woman jumped out of the trees. Naruto didn’t think his dad had been trying to hit her with the kunai at all, as she didn’t have to dodge or anything, and a bunch of the kunai went sailing into the branches of the trees. 

She had bright red hair tied up on top of her head, with a few strands down to frame her face. The red head hair made Naruto think of his mom, but this lady had a pointier chin and higher cheekbones, whereas Naruto’s mom had a round face like him. Her gray eyes went wide at the sight of the two of them. 

“What the fuck is this?” she swore. 

“Uh, hi!” Naruto’s dad greeted. “Umm, we’re just passing through… no need to fight or anything!”

The lady seemed really angry though, and she threw a kunai at them. Naruto wasn’t scared though, because his dad could dodge anything. And he did dodge— one second they were on the forest floor, and the next his dad was squatting in the tree branches behind the woman. 

Minato didn’t attack back. 

“Naruto, get on my back,” he murmured, and Naruto obediently crawled up and onto his back. 

The lady didn’t immediately jump up to attack them either. There were a bunch of gold chains on the ground when they’d been standing, and they disintegrated into dust as the woman whirled around. 

“You’re a decent copy, I guess,” the woman said. “Does this mean you idiots figured it out? Well, good job!”

She made the hand signal for release, and her face and hair changed shape. Her hair was only shoulder-length now, and her face rounder. Her eyes turned a darker shade of blue-gray. 

Then she leapt up, aiming a kick at them, and Minato absolutely did not dodge. 

xXx

Kushina was pissed. Instead of finding the normal team of Konoha-nin out to find her, she instead found some idiot pretending to be her late husband. As if that would work on her!

She and Kasumi were still trading off, going on these missions, and she was wearing Kasumi’s face just as she always did. She dropped it quickly. They must know it was really her, to send this despicable trick at her. 

Plus, she was going to kill him. The kid could go— why were they sending someone so little?— but this man was going to die. 

She wrapped his legs in chains, tying him to the tree branch he was squatting on and aimed a kick at his chest. She didn’t know how he had faked hiraishin, but she’d use this attack to monitor what he was doing without him being able to use the element of surprise. 

He didn’t dodge. His face had gone all pale and sweaty, his eyes wide with shock, and Kushina hit him dead in the stomach. He hunched over, and the the little boy looked up at her with big blue eyes, and Kushina wouldn’t hurt a kid that tiny, but she needed to steady her footing before she fell out of the trees, so she reached forward—

The man disappeared, leaving her chains behind. He reappeared two trees over, sticking himself to the trunk right over where one of his fake kunai had embedded in it. He was outright shaking as he doublechecked the little boy’s monkey-like grip on him. 

“W-wait, Kushina,” he started. “I’m… you…”

He hiccupped. 

Is this idiot crying? Kushina thought, eyes scanning the canopy for where else he’d tossed kunai. This was right out of Minato’s playbook, and also, how was he faking that? There was no point using her chains until she could figure that out.

“Dad?” the little kid asked, unafraid but clearly confused. 

An alarm went off in Kushina’s brain. The kid really did look like… except, no, this was a trick, another one of Konoha’s psychology ploys to make her come back. 

“Kushina,” the man said, and his voice sounded exactly like Minato, exactly the way he used to say her name.

She was, maybe, hyperventilating.  

“Stop it,” Kushina yelled. She grew her chains from the trees now, grabbing at the three pronged kunai. “He’s dead, you sicko! Just leave me alone!”

“No, no, let me explain,” the cruel fake spluttered. “Kushina, please—”

She grabbed at his arms and legs with her chains, and he teleported again, except she tossed all his marked kunai into a pile of the forest floor so she knew where he’d go. She dove at him, tangling him in chains again and aiming for his stupid fake face with her kunai. 

The fake Minato teleported about three inches back, right out of her chains, and grabbed at her wrists. He’d left the kid in the tree, clinging to a branch, and without the little boy to worry about, he fought her hand to hand. He didn’t seem to want to injure her, though, and Kushina had always been physically stronger than Minato, and this fight should have been hers, except her vision went completely blurry from tears. 

“Kushina,” the lookalike— the horrible mean trick— insisted, grasping her hands in his. “Kushina, listen to me.”

And then he recited his wedding vows to her, secret promises Minato had made to her in the privacy of their bedroom that weren’t for anyone else to hear. He said them with the same soft blue eyes he’d had the first time, the same wetness as tears welled in them, because Minato was a lot of things and one of those things was a crybaby. 

Kushina went limp in front of him. She did nothing to fight him as he spoke and held her hands with all the warmth they’d had when he’d held her for the first time, even though she knew this couldn’t be real. She didn’t deserve for this to be real. She stood there, frozen and useless as she’d been the day she lost him, listening to him explain time travel to her. She stared down at his hands. They were the same as before, the same size and shape and feel on her hands. 

And then she looked up, at the little boy now scaling down the side of the tree. The boy blinked back at her, with eyes as blue as the lookalike’s. His hair was the same as Minato, but his face… 

Kushina couldn’t breathe. 

“Dad, what’s going on?” the boy asked, jogging over to them. “Why does she look like mom?”

Mom, Kushina thought, sinking to her knees. 

“Hold on, Naruto,” the lookalike told the kid, and then he knelt down right with her in the underbrush. He re-explained time travel to the boy, slower and for a little kid’s mind, and Kushina barely processed anything he was saying because that was her son. 

“Kushina,” the lookalike interrupted her thoughts. His hand was firmly on her shoulder, holding her back. She’d reached for the boy. 

Kushina felt a brief flicker of anger. How dare anyone keep her from her son?

But he was right, wasn’t he? He was right the way Minato was always right when she worked herself up, a calm to her storm. Naruto was her son, but he didn’t know her. She couldn’t just grab for a child who didn’t know her. That could upset or confuse him. 

Kushina took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Dad,” Naruto said, hopping from foot to foot nervously. “Is that… is she really…?”

Minato smiled at him, and it was like being able to breathe after six years of drowning. 

“That’s your mom, Naruto.”

Kushina could not just fling herself at a son who didn’t know her. But she straightened her back and threw her arms apart, letting him make the first move. If he didn’t want a hug, if he were shy or uncomfortable or afraid, she had to respect that, no matter how much she wanted to just hold her baby boy. She was going to love Naruto exactly how he needed to be loved. 

Naruto tackled her, his little arms flying around her shoulders. She wrapped her own arms around him, as tight as she dared, and his little legs went around her waist. She fell back on her butt with her energy, laughing. 

“You grew so big,” she laughed into his hair. 

“I’m six!” he said proudly into her shoulder, his face buried in the fabric of her shirt, his voice muffled and barely audible. “Going on seven!”

Kushina pulled him away, setting both her hands over Naruto’s cheeks. They were so pudgy, just like hers had been. Really, he had Minato’s hair, but the shape of his face was all hers. 

“Let me look at you,” Kushina said, drinking in the sight of him, finally letting her brain process what she’d seen before. Naruto’s eyes were the exact color of Minato’s, and his cheeks had cute little whiskers, just like Mito’s notes on the Kyuubi had said they would. He seemed a little small for six, but Minato had been a little pipsqueak until puberty too…. 

“Naruto,” Kushina said very gravely. “I can’t help it, you know. I love you.”

Naruto giggled, and she pulled him back against her chest for another hug. 

Minato hovered awkwardly over them, and Kushina didn’t know what to say to him, about this impossible miracle. She wanted, desperately, for him to wrap his arms around the both of them and tell her the last six years had just been a nightmare, and they could all go home to Konoha together. But she’d also read Tobirama’s theories on time travel. This wasn’t really her Minato or her Naruto. Naruto reacted like he’d never met her, but for all she knew, Minato and his Kushina had had years more together before something happened. 

She gave Naruto another little squeeze and looked up at Minato. He was crying too, even as he bent over them, because apparently every Minato was a giant pansy. 

“Um, sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Are we being attacked right now?”

“Oh shit,” Kushina swore, on her feet in less than a second, Naruto still clutched in her arms. Right. Those guys. The guys she’d come out here to fight in the first place.  

“Mom said a bad word!” Naruto yelled, delighted. 

“Naruto, ignore that,” Kushina said, the words coming out of her mouth in a jumbled mess. Too many things were happening right now. She didn’t know how Minato would react to her being attacked by Konoha, or her explanation for it, and she didn’t want Naruto being exposed to violence so young—

Minato put himself between her and Naruto, back fully to her even with nearly seven years of distance, and Kushina felt the prick of tears at her eyes. He still trusted her. 

She wouldn’t make Minato fight Konoha-nin, and she wouldn’t let Naruto witness death before it was necessary. The second she had exact locations for her pursuers, she activated her bloodline limit with a twitch of her hand. Gold chains yanked them from the trees, wrestling them to the ground and pinning them down. There. Harmless and mostly unharmed. 

In front of her, Minato relaxed. 

“They’re Konoha?” he said, face swiveling around to look at her curiously. 

He didn’t look suspicious or upset. Just curious and a little confused. 

Kushina would have liked to break this to him more slowly, with more time to explain what had happened, and maybe not in front of Naruto. But she also wasn’t the type of person who backed down from tough conversations. 

“I left Konoha,” she said. Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears. “They disagreed with that.”

Minato frowned, and she could see fifty questions forming in his big brain. 

Before he could voice any of his questions, Naruto asked, “So this Konoha is evil too?”

Kushina stared down at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Minato pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your Konoha wasn’t evil, Naruto,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” Kushina repeated. Were this Minato and this Naruto from… different Konoha? How? Why was Naruto in an “evil” Konoha? He seemed okay, warm and solid in her arms, but she knew what Danzo had wanted to do to her, what any number of people might have done if Sarutobi’s protection had slipped—

“But they have to be evil if they’re fighting mom,” Naruto replied. “She’s a hero! You said!”

Kushina felt her bottom lip quiver. Her? A hero of Konoha? No way. 

Naruto pressed his cheek against her shoulder again, making some face up at Minato that she couldn’t see. Whatever Naruto’s expression, it made all of Minato’s serious attitude collapse in a little smile. 

“Okay,” Minato said, his eyes meeting Kushina’s. They’re as blue as Naruto’s. “What are you going to do with them?”

“I was…” Kushina’s hand went up, cupping the back of Naruto’s head. He was big enough to be in the Academy, so he was big enough to hear this, at least. “I was going to kill them.”

She met Minato’s eyes grimly. She had no idea what his context was, she realized, but he was wearing his Hokage cloak. She assumed he’d probably argue with her over this, but she wasn’t going to lie to him or pretend to be ashamed. She left Konoha for good reasons, and Konoha disagreed, and now every once in a while she had to kill Konoha-nin over it. 

Minato spun a kunai in his hand, and Kushina refused to look nervous about it. 

“Alright,” he said, smile broadening. “Naruto, you remember our conversation about this, right?”

Kushina watched, stunned, as Minato turned back around, to face the four ninja she’d caught. A second later, they were dead. No further questions asked; Kushina had said something, and Minato had gone along with her. 

“But…” Kushina started.

“I assume if you left, there’s something wrong in Konoha,” Minato said. The kunai disappeared, and he turned back to her. “Let me guess— Danzo?”

“No, I… I killed Danzo,” Kushina said flatly. 

To her surprise, Minato laughed. 

[patroxlos]

in another ask u said that reader feeds into his insecurities and worsens his abandonment issues could u explain it more? also loved how we got to know reader more in the last chapter it helps build character and made me think abt how much deep the reveal is gonna be (angst coming? 👀). tnks for the food💕

the angst will be coming! and they will be miscommunicating so much more than they are right now! im excited because ch8 is significant to establish the reader's motive >:) but to answer your question...

SUMMARY:

all will be revealed as the story progresses >:) i was intentionally vague in that ask because it hasnt been revealed in the story yet what caused you two to fall nearly out years ago, but that said im a yapper HAHAHA

your role as his childhood friend is significant bc u are tied to his past in japan, a place and culture he has very conflicting feelings about

he thinks you don't need him in your life esp because you're so confusing and indecisive about what you want from him

you both were very toxic for eo during your situationship.

If you want to see me yap about Kenji's abandonment and attachment issues, keep reading.

There is narrative purpose as to why I figured a childhood friend would fit in well with Ultraman: Rising's plot in itself

the movie is very family-centric, and a lot of how kenji achieves peace with himself in the film is by reconnecting with the past, be it his family or the culture he left behind

while i figured that it would be fun to write a reluctant team-up to lovers, bc ill be able to play around w kenji's personality pre-Emi, i also didnt see the place of a romance forming while he's struggling being a single mom

but i also wanted the story to take place during the movie's run bc i wanted to include Emi since she plays a big part in us learning who Ken is, so writing a fic that starts after the film didnt feel in the cards for me

since kenji grows as a person by the end of the film through making peace with his conflicting identities and his tumultuous past, i thought having a childhood best friend would make sense since i dont think he has the space to introduce anyone new in his life

bc reader is a childhood friend who he is meant to be close to, i cant write kenji interacting with reader the same way he is at the start of the film because there is a familiarity that breaks down his walls— which caused me to have a dilemma about how to characterize him

it also made me a bit sad that i cant write full-on ken sato the "egomaniac" bc i think thatll be fun since he's such a boyfailure

but that means that we see a softer ken when he interacts with reader, someone who is a bit more vulnerable with showing that he strives for further connections in his life even if he wants to look like he can do it all by himself

Kenji feels alone and disconnected from everyone, including you

it's also clear to the audience that kenji doesnt have any friends, and anyone he's friendly with is probably friends with him on a surface level. Ami states in their first interview that he is known as someone who keeps others at a distance, and who is untouchable

the team behind Ultraman: Rising did state that there is a deleted scene where he is clubbing, which is meant to show that he feels alone even in a sea of bodies. and his dad in the movie isnt surprised that he is throwing parties at his house, so it just clues us in that he probably lived life with very shallow connections and has filled his time with materialistic pursuits (e.g. his car collection...what he need a mclaren for)

i decided to make the reader someone from the 1% for two reasons: first being so that i can explain why her and kenji meet up over the years (i see a lot of friends who migrated to north america only once a year and we're still close!), and second, because i wanted you to be on the same playing field if not higher playing field than him.

Ken puts up the front that he doesn't need anyone else, but he is insecure about how he thinks you don't need him.

bc u have ur own things going on!! u have ur own friends

what makes it worse is that u genuinely think that kenji is the same. u think that since he's very successful, he would have his own thing

i havent touched up on it much yet, but it's very evident to kenji that you will readily pick yourself over him, which isn't a bad thing but it reminds him when his dad picked Ultraman over keeping his family together

ken feels like he can never be anyone's first choice or priority, and your situationship messes this up further

I haven't touched much on what happened between them yet in the story because it's building up to it, but

it soon feels for ken that youre only seeking him out on convenience. that he doesnt matter to you beyond what his body can do for you

bc spoiler: you are the villain in the situationship! you're the one who insists that everything is casual yet you keep the line blurry

^ karma is gonna get to u soon in the main storyline ure gonna be dry heaving when u realize u actually do want something with him

your constant back and forth with him will be revealed in the flashbacks... you not wanting more than a casual relationship yet youre talking abt what it would be like if you two got married???

Spoiler but during the situationship years, you're also the first one to say "I Love You" ROMANTICALLY yet youll later on backtrack and say that you didnt mean it in that way

can you blame him for getting confused and insecure about where you stand and whether or not he actually matters to anyone.

it doesnt help that his presence in your life is actively harming your reputation and career.

in ch8, it's briefly mentioned that ur media hate train is caused by ppl who are paying for bad press abt u starting from when you were 18. if you remember ch3-4, kenji freaks out abt a new article abt u two, and ch6 he was conscious of what others were saying.

one thing i want to elaborate in a separate post is that ken is AVOIDANT ATTACHMENT and reader is written to have DISORGANIZED ATTACHMENT.

Even if Kenji is avoidant due to his trauma of abandonment (e.g. self-reliant, avoids social connections), he can't help but yearn to be with you

so it's so confusing to him bc with everyone else, he would want to leave first. and he's close to leaving you so many times

yet you keep making these promises, saying sweet things about how much you need him, that he cant help but get roped into it a bit

When he is younger, he's fully aware that it is not a healthy mindset, but even if you're just using him at least it means that he still gets to be in your life. It makes him feel needed.

in the present timeline, sometimes those thoughts definitely cross his mind but at present he is focusing on maintaining the boundary you guys set about strictly being friends

So far I hope you caught in the story [as of ch8] from the subtext or dialogue that

in the present timeline, you are both 26 years old

the situationship started when you were 16 and lasted until you were 23

bc ure both high profile starting when you were 18, and u both publicly seem a lot closer than what ure claiming to be, it is well-documented that you two kind of go back and forth with each other (think justin and selena/shawn mendes and camila cabello)

(a new photo recently surfaced of shawn and camila together at Copa América and ppl were kind of confused as to whether or not they got back together again after breaking up for like the fourth time and i was like omg... home base core...)

when you both were 23, three years ago, you two had a really bad falling out caused by your previous situationship

it caused you officially end it for good, and while you maintained your friendship for those three years you weren't able to properly see each other face to face (partly. bc covid is canon in the fic HAHAHA but i havent talked abt it)

yall dont know how to act around eo anymore like why a little eye contact making u nervous .... yall had ur privates in eo's mouths (kenji munch next chapter soon promise hihi)...

since it is revealed that a large part of the hate train against you is paid for by people who want you out of power, kenji as much as possible wants to avoid being seen as more than friends with you atm bc he's worried it will derail your career

SORRY if it felt like I didn't say anything at all since I don't want to reveal too much at this stage lmao but I can do my best to elaborate on any points of interest!

[barbarianbookhoe]

Chapter 8

No Permission

A/N: Hi lovelies! Sorry for the delay, I wanted to post this yesterday but I was away on a long ass exam

Anyways, this chapter just made it to my top 3 favs to write, so enjoy!!

Btw this got so long and I didn't have the heart to broke it into two parts, so I left it long as fuck

TW: PTSD, nightmare, fear of fire, fluff

Taglist: @kiraflowersworld @vainillasmil157 @bookloverfilmoholic @so-get-this-sammy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @hufflepuffprincessbabe @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitterspoons @el-de-phi @astess

Everything was warm. Too warm.

The beautifully letal orange flashes surrounded everything. They were spreading through the small house, devouring every inch of space. The flames ran up the walls, rapidly eating up any surface they touched.

The house slowly became to lose balance, the fire weakening its composure, making it crumble down. The dark night was suddenly lit up by the flames erupting from the place.

The girl clutched the skirt of her dress, looking for a way out, but finding none. Her coughs became more frequent, more violent, making her chest tremble. She tried the windows, but the frames were too hot to touch, just like the door handle. She couldn't grab any of the chairs to break the window, the flames already eating them up before she could've even thought about using them.

Everything was warm. Too warm.

She already took off her dress, now running around in only a loose white underdress, the sweat and heat making it cling to her frame.

She didn't notice when she began screaming, but she did it with all her might. She screamed, sobbed and yelled as loud as she was physically capable, even as she felt her throat become hurt in the process.

She felt the flames closing in on her as she stood in the collapsing dining room. She didn't accept her fate just yet. She knew that trying to pry open the window frame would only burn her hands without protection, therefore she grabbed the end of her dress and tore a long stripe off of it, wrapping it around her hands.

It would do close to nothing in keeping her unharmed, but she wasn't in the right state to think about that. She also wasn't thinking when she punched through the glass and began pulling herself out.

The flames were too close.

It was warm.

It was too warm.

The girl didn't even realize the burning sensation that traveled up to her neck. Not until she was far from the house, squinting in the darkness trying to find a path she could take.

She put her hand on her neck to check how bad the burn was, and only then did she realize it wasn't sweat sticking to her skin.

It was blood.

Y/N woke up with a jolt, throwing the blankets and furs off of her in a rush. "N-no, no fire," she kept muttering as she began taking her scarf off, along with her coat, trying to catch her breath. It took every ounce of her will to keep herself quiet, not wanting to wake anyone.

But she didn't notice the boy next to her, also joltinf from his sleep in the chair, trying to get her to stop. She felt his leather clawed hands touch her and she flinched.

She flinched away.

She flinched, from him.

She couldn't meet his eye as she frantically put on her boots and strode out into the cold night, without anything to protect her from the snow.

Kaz almost ran after her just a second later.

Instead, he decided to wait for a minute, not wanting the others to wake up from the noise he would make. He made sure to grab her coat before walking out. He didn't want her to catch a cold right now.

Kaz almost had a heart attack when he saw her sitting in the snow. Without a coat. Without her gloves. Without anything to sit on. With her hands wrapped around her middle, trying to shake herself from the nightmare.

This wasn't the first time they had to deal with it. It won't be the last either. It will probably never go away. They just thought it wouldn't happen this soon again. Not here. Not now. Not while on a mission, where Kaz wasn't able to help them the way he wanted to.

Kaz quietly, but as fast as he could, walked over to her. He made sure to make some noise with his cane in the snow, so she wouldn't jump at his touch as he gently pulled her up from the snow and put the coat around her.

Y/N kept shaking, but Kaz knew he couldn't drag her inside, she needed a few moments to get back to reality. Therefore Kaz just waited patiently for her, like she did with him back home.

Home. The thought felt like a punch to Kaz's face. He never thought of Ketterdam as home, let alone the Barrel, because in his head home was a word associated with warmth, love and family. His home consisted of nothing more than bloodshed and greed. Except Y/N. She was like the Sun, always finding a way to shine even in the darkest places. She wasn't bright, and overloaded with joy all the time, kind to people, Saints no. She could be ruthless, downright cruel at times, greedy and selfish, a walking nightmare to anyone who dared cross paths with her.

But not with her family, not the Crows, not with Kaz. Never with him. It was as if Kaz's mean attitude allowed her to drop her armor and act however she wanted. They had their fare share of mean, petty arguments, but that didn't erase the fact that she was always comfortable around him. Kind and sweet, considerate and careful, annoying at times too, always challenging Kaz in some way to want to be better. Because she knows his heart better than he does most of the time.

Y/N doesn't say anything as she gently tugs on Kaz's arm, signaling that she's ready to go back inside, that she'll be alright. Kaz sends a questioning glance towards her and she nods with a tired smile. Kaz puts a hand to her back and guides her back into her bed.

He doesn't sleep a minute from then on, his pocket and heart heavy with emotions.

"Look, all I'm saying is that an eagle can claw it's eyes out, therefore the wolf wouldn't see and bleed to death!" Jesper said and turned towards Y/N.

Jesper started the argument with Nina when they left the cabin, and with time Y/N joined them, publicly announcing her opinions.

"Are you sure you didn't bribe the university to accept you?"

"Wow, you should've stayed in school."

"Have you learned nothing in the Little Palace?"

"How both of you survived beyond the age of 10, is unbelieveable to me."

"You're awfully mean today, did you know that?" Jesper asked and Y/N scoffed. "I'm just giving you my opinion. Doesn't mean you have to take it to heart," she told him and Jesper sent a knowing look towards Nina. "Doesn't mean you have to be mean about it,"

"Eat hedgehogs," Y/N said and turned around to walk over to Inej, so she could continue the journey in silence. Inej sent her a questioning look, but Y/N just sighed and shook her head tiredly. Regardless, Inej sent her a reassuring smile, covered by the scarf protecting her face from the cold.

Kaz didn't keep his eyes off her since last night. He knew the lack of sleep and the cold would get to him eventually, probably by nightfall, but he didn't care. He just needed to know that she would be alright.

They spent almost all day walking through the snow. Thankfully they didn't got caught up in another fight, or windstorm, their only inconvenience was Jesper's mindless hypothetic questions about animal fights and random things that came to his mind.

He was about to start a discussion on hats versus scarfs while they reached the top of the hill they were climbing, when they finally saw Djerholm spreading out beneath them. The rooftops were covered in snow, and they could almost make out the harbor in the distance. Nightfall was soon to come, so they didn't waste time with finding shelter for the night.

"Finally, a night where I won't have to listen to the piece of fur snore," Jesper mumbled, but not quiet enough for Matthias not to hear. He mumbled something in Fjerdan to with Nina gasped and Jesper frowned. "Don't call me that."

"You understand Fjerdan?" Wylan asked in surprise but Jesper just smiled. "I don't need to speak a language to know when someone's cursing me out."

Y/N also mumbled something from next to him and Jesper made a dramatically offended face at it. "You're just being offensive on purpose!"

"Maybe I am." Y/N shrugged her shoulders as they passed multiple little stands that were selling things for the upcoming Hringkälla. They actually passed multiple stands along with shops, bars and inns too. Y/N still couldn't shake the creepy feeling her nightmare left behind. She let her scarf get loose around her neck, hoping the cold would make the pain on her neck subside.

The tingling in her bones got more noticeable ever since she woke up. The last time she shapeshifted was more than a week ago, during the fight at Fifth Harbor. Her skin was itching with need, the need to transform before she scratched off her skin under the heavy coat.

"If you're worried about the price, then don't. I doubt guards would accept our money in prison." Nina told Kaz after he refused to go inside another inn. Jesper was complaining too, with Wylan and Inej silently siding with him. Even the Wraith couldn't deny the comfort of a bed. Matthias and Y/N were just fed up with their bickering, wanting them to stop and keep going so they could finally rest.

Kaz began leading them towards another inn, which didn't look inviting to say the least, and upon seeing it Nina and Jesper followed him close with complaints. Y/N had to swallow down her laugh at the absurdity of it all. They were here on a job, probably to never return home, with herself, Nina and -if her assumptions were right- Jesper most likely to be burned alive, and yet, their biggest problem was the state of an inn where they would spend no more than a few hours.

"Those two can make quite a show," Inej appeared next to Y/N, and she let out a smile. "At least it's fun watching them." She told her without any humor in her voice, almost as if she'd be anywhere but here, which wasn't far from the truth.

"You've been acting weird today. Is something wrong?" Inej asked while they followed the bickering pair and Kaz. "Aside from the fact that we can die tomorrow? I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Literally." Y/N sighed as they went inside the small inn, where apparently no one was staying.

The dirt was visible on the creaky floor, and the walls were cracked in a lot of places. The dust was so thick on the tables, it looked more like a tablecloth. The receptionist was a middle aged man, who was currently sleeping in his chair, with a bottle of something on the front desk.

The group quickly realized that tonight wasn't gonna be about pleasure and comfort, but about a warm and dry place, nothing else. As they remembered Kaz earlier looking at the top of the building where a small rooftop terrace was, they understood why he chose this dirty place. From up there they would have perfect view of the road leading to the Ice Court.

"AH!" The man abruptly sat up, knocking the chair out from under himself while trying to reach his back, circling around himself like a maniac. A little mouse-like thing was hanging off his back, probably biting him.

Jesper, Nina and even Inej were laughing at him, while Wylan and Matthias seemed rather confused, and tired. Kaz on the other hand just sighed and rolled his eyes as he walked over to him and gently took the mouse off his back with his cane. He watched as the mouse quickly ran under one of the tables and disappeared.

While Kaz and Inej talked with the man about the rooms for the night, Jesper turned around himself a couple of times before Wylan spoke to him.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Yeah, Y/N. She was here just a second ago," Jesper bent down to look under one of the tables, when he noticed a black spider on his leg. He quickly stretched out his leg and hopped on the other to slap away the spider, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

"Why is it that insects always find ME!?" Jesper asked loudly and Wylan stiffled a chuckle next to him. Jesper turned to him with furrowed brows. "Oh laugh all you want, but you'd also act crazy if a spider tried to eat you."

"That was the size of your finger," Wylan said and Jesper's jaw dropped. "Will you keep lowering my dignity, or help me find-"

"Maybe the air was cut off halfway up your brain, but if you opened your ears you would hear the cat yelling at you." Kaz told them and made an obvious frown at the black cat that was sitting at Nina's leg, meowing loudly. He took the keys from the receptionist, who immediately went back to sleeping.

"That comment was absolutely mean and unnecessary," Jesper told him as he took one of the keys from him. "And?" Kaz asked with a raised brow, actually waiting for an answer. When Jesper just looked back at him, trying to think of a come back, Kaz smirked at him for half a second. "Thought so."

"You and Y/N should start a club. How to offend your friends in unnecessary ways," Jesper said the last half more to himself than Kaz, but he heard it regardless.

Nina listened in on his heartbeat and noticed it picked up at the mention of Y/N's name. She had to bend down to pick the cat up to hide her smile. It happened every single time Kaz looked at her, heard her name, voice, laugh, or was just near her. It was like Kaz's heart was trying to rush the air to his brain as if he was slowly suffocating without her. At the thought Nina felt like bursting into childish giggles, and took a mental note to talk to Jesper about it.

"We got three rooms. One of them looks directly at the street we just came in from, the second is next to it, and the last one is on the other side of the hall. That's obviously mine, since it has direct view of the main street, where the soldiers are usually stationed," Kaz told them and glared at Nina, who already had Y/N, still a cat, in her arms. Jesper mockingly muttered 'obviously ' and Wylan looked at him with a small smile. Their group was quite amusing when they wanted to be.

"The rest of you, I don't care where you sleep. We start at 5 bells sharp in the morning." Kaz said and everyone groaned at the early hour.

Despite the bad mood, the black cat was passed around their circle while Kaz set them down at a table, to quickly talk through everything major once again. Everyone knew everything about the plan and even the alternative(s), thanks to Kaz's demand to memorize every single detail.

Y/N, still in her cat form, jumped down from Inej's hands and took a lap around their table, happily scaring Matthias with how silently she moved. She stopped a little at Nina's legs again, liking how she scratched her head, then she made sure to go unnoticed as she sat down next to Kaz's bad leg.

It also went unnoticed when Kaz slightly moved his cane in a circling motion, as if scratching something. He made it seem like he was just playing with his cane as he listened to the group telling the plan back to him. Even if they didn't have time to talk yet, he was grateful that he found a way to give her some comfort at least.

When he felt the cat begin to move under his cane, he let her go and now focused all of his attention at their plan's revision. It wasn't after a few long minutes that he noticed the presence standing slightly next to him, quietly chewing on something.

"Not as good as a deer, but it'll suffice," Y/N mumbled to herself as Kaz turned his head to look up at her. She was holding a small bowl and eating something that looked like stew made of mud and something dead.

"What are you doing?" Kaz asked and he seemed honestly confused as to why Y/N was eating something like that. "It's called eating. My marvelous body needs its suppliments," she told him with a hand on her hip, while still chewing on something.

"And you decided to eat that," Jesper asked with a horrified face, and just as he said that, Y/N pulled out some small bones from her mouth, which could've belonged to a mouse. She looked surprised for a second then went back to eating.

The entire table looked at her in silence, with shock visible on their faces, and even Kaz's neutral face faltered for a second. Nina was the one to speak up on a truly horrified tone. "Why are you still eating that thing?!"

"Nina dear, I'm a shapeshifter. When I'm in the wild I don't really have the luxury of deciding what to eat." She told her as she grabbed her spoon to take another bite. "Plus after eating live rats, you really appreciate any kind of food you come across."

"Rats? You've eaten rats, alive?" Matthias asked disgust visible on his face. "Why?"

"I just told you. When you're in the wild you can't choose what to eat. Your only options are eating and starving, so yeah, I ate rats." After a small pause she continued. "Once I ate a horse. Not the whole thing, but you know, the liver, some tummy and a leg. It's not as bad as it sounds, trust me."

The table was silent once again. Everyone tried to figure out what to say to break the awkward silence, but it seemed hopeless. What could any of them say to make Y/N's words less uncomfortable?

"Why? Why would you say that?" Jesper asked with a pained face. "Why would you eat a horse?"

"Desperate times require desperate measures. Don't judge something you haven't tried," she said and put her empty bowl on the table. Jesper, Nina and Matthias visibly moved a little further away from it. "Oh come on, it won't infect you."

"Wait, so when you said earlier that you're so hungry you could eat a horse, you meant, like-" Inej started as she stared at Y/N, surprise written on her face.

"-literally? Yes. Sometimes animal habits are more affecting than what I'm counting on," She told her and took her bowl back into her hands. "I'll do a quick look-around before we go to sleep." Then she disappeared behind a door that they assumed led to the kitchen.

"Should we be worried that she eats live animals?" Jesper asked now somewhat less horrified, but still in shock. Kaz glanced at him with a hidden protectiveness for Y/N. "As long as it doesn't affect our job, it's none of our business." Kaz stood up, signaling their meeting was over and they can head to their rooms.

"I aggree with you, I do, but shouldn't we keep an eye on her just in case she decided to, I don't know, bite off a guard's leg or hand? I mean, I know she's not a psychopath, we all know that, but in the heat of the moment thing can-"

"Are you suggesting I spy on her? On the job inside the prison?" Kaz asked and raised his brow as he stared back at Jesper. "I'm not saying I don't trust her, Saints, she's one of the only people I trust with my life, but I'm just worried!" Jesper stood in front of him, his hands on his hips.

"And not because she could eat the guards if she wanted to, which is creepy but also cool, but because I'm scared how she'll react to it. I mean, she'll be in her animal form the entire time and I don't know how it'll affect her." He told Kaz and looked at him with genuine worry on his face.

Inej and Nina looked at Kaz with similar faces, hoping their trio would have some, or any kind of effect on him, so he'd make sure Y/N will be looked after during their time in the Ice Court. Having to see her almost get drowned at Fifth Harbor was more than enough, so none of them wanted to see her hurt once again. And if they were right, neither did Kaz.

"She's more than capable of handling herself, but if you prefer wasting time on worrying about her, then by all means do it," Kaz told them mockingly and walked over to the small staircase leading upstairs. "Do what you want, just be clear-headed tomorrow, otherwise I don't care." And with that he disappeared upstairs.

The little trio stood there for a few seconds, before Nina turned to Jesper and Inej with a mischievous smile. "I was listening to his heartbeat while Y/N was a cat, and it sounded like he was about to have a heart attack when Jesper mentioned her," she told them and Jesper stared back at her with a smile of his own. Inej had a questioning look on her face as she spoke up.

"But what does this have to do with our bet? It's not exactly a clue," Jesper and Nina nodded in agreement, while Wylan joined their circle and quietly spoke up. "They seemed close enough last night. I saw them talking."

The trio turned to him at once, Jesper with amusement on his face. "You were eavesdropping on Kaz?"

"N-not exactly-" Wylan started but got interrupted by Jesper. "Did they know you were listening?"

"No,"

"Did they know you were awake?" Nina asked this time. Wylan looked at both of them with slight guilt. "Well, I didn't want them to know, but-"

"You were eavesdropping!" Jesper told him with a chuckle, followed by Nina's gasp. "Saints, maybe Wylan knows something that will help us. Alright, what did you hear, or saw exactly?" She asked and now the trio circled around Wylan to listen. He looked helplessly at Matthias, hoping he'll say something but he just shrugged and made his way upstairs. Wylan sighed.

"I don't want Kaz to know," he said and all of them rolled their eyes playfullly. "Come on, Nina and I made the bet, we're the last people who'd want him to know any of this," Jesper told him.

"And since we'll be in the Ice Court tomorrow, us talking about his relationship will go unnoticed. He'll be too absorbed with the job going perfectly," Inej told him reassuringly and it made Jesper turn to her suspiciously. "Since when are you a big fan of gossiping, Wraith?" "I'm a spy Jesper. It's part of my job." "Alright, understandable," he shrugged and turned back to Wylan.

"So, back in the cabin, I woke up to the door opening. At first I just wanted to go back to sleep, and I almost did, but then the door opened again,so I turned around to see what was happening, and Kaz, he had his arms around Y/N,walking her to the bed." Jesper and Nina let out a surprised gasp and Wylan continued.

"They were talking really quietly, I didn't hear most of what they were saying, but Kaz was talking about promising something and a tattoo they have." He said the last words more like a question, not sure if he remembered correctly. "That's the only part I could hear actually, before I fell asleep again," Wylan finished his "report".

"A tattoo? It could be the Crow and the Cup. Y/N told me she got it together with Kaz," Inej said and they turned to her. "Why didn't you tell me?" Jesper and Nina asked in union and Inej turned towards the latter in confusion. "You were there when she told me, back on the ship."

"I believe I've been tending to your life-threatening wound, if I remember correctly. You're welcome by the way," Nina told her in a playful voice and Inej tilted her head. "A little harsh Nina," The two girls smiled at each other briefly before turning back to the boys.

"So this can mean two things. One, Wylan is an exceptionally good liar and he just wanted to stir some drama before we kicked the bucket,-" Wylan looked at him offended and Jesper quickly continued. "-or two, which is unbelieveable but can be true...Kaz and Y/N are a couple."

"Jesper! Just because you want to win the bet, don't analyze their interactions! That's cheating," Nina scolded him and Jesper raised a brow at her. "If I can't go looking for evidence, then why were you using your powers, hmm?"

"Umm-" Nina started and he waited for her to find an excuse. "I was just checking if his veins got turned to stone because of his cold attitude."

"I hope you'll be a better actress once we get behind bars," Jesper sighed but Nina just rolled her eyes. They decided to stay a little while and talk about the couple, or rather argue about if they're even a couple or close friends.

Meanwhile Kaz Brekker was having an existential crisis in the old and dusty room above, his gaze constantly moving between the woman sleeping on the bed and the pouch in his hand.

He shouldn't have come here. He should've made his way directly towards the Slat to gather his belongings before their ship departed to Fjerda. He shouldn't have listened to the voice in his head like he did a week ago, when he stupidly went into that shop.

And now here he was, standing in front of his door, knocking, without a single plan as to what he was gonna say. He didn't have time to think about it too long, because the door opened and Raffiel, Y/N's brother was standing there, he's shirt halfway open, the boots still on his feet.

"What are you doing here?" He asked on an annoyed tone. Kaz looked at him dumbfounded for a second before he found his voice. "I came to ask you something."

"Really?" Raffiel asked with a smile on his face and crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. 'This will take longer than my temper can take,' Kaz thought. "Would you care to elaborate? I'm really curious about your intentions," Raffiel said mockingly and Kaz tried real hard not to roll his eyes.

"Will you keep asking me, or can we continue this inside?" Kaz asked as patiently as he could despite his heart pumping in his ears, telling him to walk away.

"Why would I do that?"

"It's about your sister." Kaz told him and stepped closer. That got his attention, because he immediately straightened his back. "Now, shall we go inside?"

Raffiel looked suspiciously at him, considering if they should continue this conversation. Kaz Brekker made his sister cry several times and even though Raffiel knew how his sister felt, he couldn't shake the feeling that Kaz will hurt her one way or another, intentionally or unintentionally.

"I'm asking for your sister," Kaz said without hesitation and it made Raffiel surprised.

Against his better judgement, he let him inside, but didn't step away from the front door in hope he could end this sooner rather than later.

"She's not here, as I'm sure you already know-"

"I'm asking for her hand."

Silence. Dead silence. Both men held their breath waiting for the other to speak. Kaz was the one to break the silence, trying to hide the tremble in his voice as best as he could.

"Years ago you told me to find you when I thought she was worth living for. Unfortunately that is not the reason I'm here." Kaz told him and Raffiel had genuine surprise on his face, and for the first time since they've known each other, without anger towards him. Kaz took it as a sign to continue.

"The job we're going on tonight will be long and dangerous. We'll be gone for weeks and it's possible not everyone comes back." Kaz had to take a second to breathe, before he spoke the next words out loud, for the first time since he thought about them. "In case I don't make it, I want your sister to have proper safety when she comes back."

Raffiel was silent, then let out a scoff, and another, and another, which slowly turned into laughter. He tried to stop it, or at least be quiet since his son and wife was asleep upstairs, but when he looked at Kaz's serious face he had to turn away to stiffle another laugh.

"Are you serious? You're asking my permission to marry her? Did you really think that I would ever let you-"

"I'm giving her everything I have. I've already signed the papers to her name, the club, the bar, the club's share in Fifth Harbor, every investment and money that I own, everything is hers. I'm giving her everything," Kaz told him angrily, desperately, convincing him that he wouldn't change his mind about this.

Raffiel's amusement slowly turned into surprise and suspicion, then as he kept looking at Kaz's face, analyzing every inch of his stare, and the way his determined gaze didn't falter for one second was all evidence that he was dead serious.

"You never needed my permission when it came to my sister. Why now?"

There was a long pause after that, and Kaz had to take several breaths before he could master the courage to speak the words out loud, making them all the more real and terrifying.

"Because I'm not sure I'll be coming back alive."

[agendabymooner]

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later. 

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts.  Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much. 

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic. 

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken. 

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus. 

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right. 

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from. 

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level. 

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule. 

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing. 

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice. 

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman. 

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him. 

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?” 

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!! 

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him. 

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot  But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them. 

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver. 

So much for a good situationship. 

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?” 

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.” 

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open. 

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it. 

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy. 

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market. 

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo. 

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?” 

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.” 

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why. 

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly. 

Her eyes remained on the letter. 

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter. 

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?” 

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment. 

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with. 

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way. 

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates. 

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest. 

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth. 

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.” 

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!” 

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!” 

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.” 

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care. 

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other. 

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet. 

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.” 

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!” 

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.” 

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move. 

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA. 

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea. 

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her. 

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!” 

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to. 

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call. 

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!” 

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.” 

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other. 

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch. 

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow. 

The Frenchman sighed silently. 

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad. 

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool. 

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look. 

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. 

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?” 

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.” 

Don't care how long it takes,  My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

[mysticarts]

Some questions while I am redesigning Yuhe:

1. What's your lmk ocs fears?

2. How organize is your lmk ocs? (Ex: Room, or their hygiene or how they take care of themselves.)

3. In your Lackadaisy sequel au how does the Lackadaisy (And Marigold) crew react to Carmen's death? Do they know or not? (Have they visited her funeral? Or where she is buried?)

4. What's Carmen's voice claim?

5. In the sequel au how will Nia react if Lucio tried trimming his hair to be in shoulder length, since his hair have grow too long for a year and is annoyed, but he is afraid to do it? because some of the scissors are a bit sharp causing him to get anxiety trigger from it? (Usually he doesn't have a problem with sharp objects when he works at Marigold, but after quiting his job, he has a feeling he'll accidentally hurt himself but that isn't important. What's concerning to him he might hurt Nia when out of control his like Freckle but more controlled of himself, hence why he throws sharp objects, except kitchen tools away.)

That's all have a good day/Night!

heeeyaaa!

This is gonna be a list man-

Hui Ying: MAJOR fear of dogs. No one knows why, she just is. Hui Ying also hates being in a dark and small space for too long

Tai: funny enough, Tai has a fear of love. Romantic love, to be specific. Tai doesn't really understand the concept of love, and considering his ex iterally left him in shambles, Tai has a huge fear of falling in love with someone....too bad it's already happening to him

Shuimu: Claustrophobia (fear of small spaces) and also chains. Shuimu hates being in enclosed and tight spaces, and hates chains Even more. Which makes sense cause she was chained by her mouth under a mountain engulfed in water for years.

Yujin: Fear of failure. Yujin usually succeeds when she goes on a mission or does work, as she puts all of her effort into something. So when a plan fails, Yujin starts to overthink and shame herself. This mostly stems from her try to help her family, but still couldn't do nothing in the end.

2. Again, I shall also put this in a list-

Hui ying: Hui Ying's room is usually a mess, riddled with pictures, photos, maps, etc. This is mostly because Hui Ying is very fascinated by the Mortal world, and wants to learn about it as much as possible. As for their own hygiene, Hui Ying takes care of herself pretty well!

Tai: Tai's room is spotless. Like I mean, SPOTLESS. Except his desk. Tai likes to explore technology and see what it can do, so he usually invents stuff on his desk and leaves them there. He knows no one will touch it unless asking for a respectful death scentence. Tai probably has the best hygiene routine out of all of my lmk ocs. He does skin care, hair care, all the works.

Shuimu: Shuimu is a VEERY messy person, she'll use stuff, leave it there, and then forget to put it back constantly. This makes Shuimu loose a lot of things constantly. As for her hygiene, she's trying her best to learn, with Hui Ying helping her out. Due to Shuimu's amnesia, she dosent remember much about personal hygiene

Yujin: Yujin has a very fancy room, so of course she keeps it spotless.....if you minus the fact some of her work papers will be scattered across the room because sometimes Yujin pulls all nighters. This leads to Yujin forgetting to do proper hygiene, with hui Ying and the other maids in the castle to force Yujin to take a break for once.

3. Both the Lackadaisy and Marigolds heard about Carmen's death, as it did make headline news. However none of the marigolds showed up at her funeral except Mordecai. All of the Lackadaisy crew was there at her funeral as her ashes where buried. Mitzi and Zib where in the most sad out of the lackadaisy crew. Carmen was buried right besides her mother, Avis.

4. I.......still haven't decided yet. But for now currently it's Tiana from princess and the frog!

5. Nia, also like freckle, also goes insane when holding a possible dangerous object. However, it's only with explosives. And considering Nia would be much better controlled about it due to Carmen's teachings, Nia would either take Lucio to a professional hairdresser to get his hair done, or cuts it herself. Nia almost cut her hair off, but her hair length was the same as Carmen's so Nia kept it the same.

Ty for asking these! Also, I heard that Yuhen likes stars and cosmo stuff, so I found these clothes on pintrest for them!

anyway, feel free to ask questions everyone!

[tarotoftheendless]

Forever Waiting: Waiting for Forever 0.5 - Chapter Three

Forever Waiting

Summary:

Willie can't sleep. Sneaks out, goes to town to go to the gig Jules invited him to. What he sees, hears and feels is not something he was prepared for, or even fully understands. Warnings/Tags:

Overall horniness, N S F W. Minors scram. Alcohol consumption. Kink. Fem Domming. Thirsty thoughts. Angst.

Thank you once again to @thoughtsfromlayla for beta-ing, editing and helping with the format. And thank you to @dragon-kazansky for beta-ing and making the Chapter Cards. I love you both so much!

MASTER LIST/FIRST/PREVIOUS/NEXT

Chapter Three: Bitter Sweet Symphony

October 3rd, 2008

Taft, Pennsylvania

10:07pm

Willie’s POV

Sleep is eluding me as I shift onto my side for the fourth time in a row. Joey and Dee had suggested I go to bed early to try to relax, but I am too wired to do so. Today did not go as planned.

Turning on my other side again, my eyes catch sight of the digital clock on the bedside table. Groaning, I throw off my covers. It's still too warm in the evenings for covers anyway.

Playing with the silver chain around my neck nervously, my mind races over what my brother told me. He has never understood me and that has always been a source of disconnect between us. Joey and Jules felt more like siblings to me than Jimbo. At least what I thought siblings should be like.

Watching Jules today with Joey and their playful banter made me both envious for that kind of connection but also a pang of guilt. I had been the one to never reach back out to Jules directly. 

After what she said about Emma back on that fateful summer, it felt like my throat had closed up and a wall went up when it came to her. Jules was always so hesitant to share her feelings on things after her and Joey’s mother died, before that she had been so passionate. I almost thought a piece of her died that day, and it was a feeling I could relate to.

Deciding that sleep was not going to come any time soon, I sit up in the bed, running my hand through my hair. Fidgeting for a moment with my leather bracelets around my wrists, my mind is made up. I will go to Jules’ gig. A distraction from my brother’s cruel words and my terror from earlier outside of Emma’s is much needed right now.

Getting out of bed, I try not to hit my head on the very low glass antique flower hanging light. I grab my red and black plaid hoodie out of my duffle and slip on my high-tops, and quickly tie them.

I make sure I have my essentials on me, and then quietly open my door that leads into the hall. Not wanting to disturb the rest of the house, I make the decision to go down to the basement. 

It has been years since I have been in Jules’ room. My heart-rate picks up as I turn the doorknob to her room. Maybe she wouldn’t want me in her space when she is not around. Then I think about how she did invite me to her gig, about how I am already late and that I really don’t want to wake the house by going out the front door.

Warm light glows as I open the door. Her room was always so cozy and inviting and that hasn’t changed. The sweet smell of incense fills my nose and with it flooding memories. Immediately my gaze goes to the column of wall that has polaroids all over it. 

Stepping towards it, I squat down to see if she kept that picture of us. My breath hitches as I find it and underneath it reads: WD + JS = BFF. We were so young, our smiles goofy. We had been cuddling on a beanbag on the floor, just talking when she had wanted to take a picture of us. 

“Would you look at that, she kept it. Even after everything, she kept it. Can you believe that?” I breathe out, knowing they are watching me.

I can’t help but smile at the memory. Joey is my best friend, but Jules always seemed to get me. I always felt seen and heard when it came to Jules. Until that day at the creek. When she hadn’t wanted to talk about Emma anymore that day I had felt a piece of my heart break. Jules had never spoken to me like that before.

Sighing, I stand up fully again and make my way to the side door that leads outside. Briefly my eyes catch that she has the beanbags still, right behind her drum set. That brings a smile back to my face as I open the door, the cool October air gently brushing against my face.

As I begin my walk downtown, my thoughts are filled with a growing panic on how I am going to finally approach Emma. 

Will she remember me? Will she return my affections? Even when I had seen Emma in L.A. when I was performing in the park, I had to keep my breathing under control. Fear gripped me today and I worry that Emma will think the same things about me like my brother does. 

Am I crazy? Maybe something is wrong with me. I feel normal, though. People like me when they met me, I always am able to make kids smile and laugh. And then there was Joey, Dee and Jules. I know they love me and support me, they always have. They are safe. I feel safe with them.

My mouth turns downward as I remember the summer of 1999, the summer their mother passed. Jules was different, Joey was trying not to be, I could tell. I once caught him crying in his room, and without a word I walked in and pulled him into a hug. Having lost both my parents, there was a deep understanding I had for how Joey felt. He was quieter about it, but Jules had been angry. Her dad and her fought a lot that summer. They tried not to do it in front of me, but I heard some of what was said. One fight ended right after her dad called her by her mom’s name. It had confused me and yet also made tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I didn’t understand what had happened or why Jules had stormed off after that, but I knew something was not right about that.

I pull the hood of my jacket up to cover my ears from the gentle breeze that began to tickle at my ears. It is entirely possible that I should have thought about getting some earplugs as I am realizing that as quiet of a nice night it is outside in my little hometown, going to a bar with loud music might be a bit jarring. Grimacing at the thought of sticking my fingers in my ears once I get in the venue, it begins to register in my brain that might appear to be rude to not only the other pub patrons but also Jules and her band. Insulting her and her music is not something I want to do right after we have seemingly patched things up.

Passing by the bank my brother works at, I see my reflection in the dark front window, the light of a streetlamp illuminating behind me. Trying to fix my seemingly both stunned and blank expression on my face, I pull my hood down and tousle my hair a bit. 

Not that I am looking to be noticed by anyone, the one person I would want to notice me isn’t going to be here, but I do at least want to appear to be desirable. Then again, no one has ever told me they have found me attractive, so what do I know? My hope is that once I reconnect with Emma that she will like what she sees. Then I can finally have the happily ever after I have always wanted to have with her.

Working up the courage to leave the very quiet downtown main street, I move forward once again towards the muffled sounds of music and talking. My fingers grasp the pub’s steel door handle, slowly, I open the door and I am met with the sounds of loud music and many people conversing over various kinds of alcoholic beverages.

The pub isn’t very big, the lighting is low and moody, and tonight it is packed and it isn’t hard to see why. On the back wall of this establishment is a stage with lights above it flashing between many colors, and there she is. 

Jules is on that stage, electric guitar in hand, singing, almost growling into the mic. She is mesmerizing, almost to the point where I don’t hear the bouncer in front of me asking to see my ID. 

Heat rises to my cheeks in embarrassment as I fish my ID out of the pocket of my hoodie. The bouncer takes it from me, looks at it and then back at me, cocks an eyebrow at me that makes me nervous for some reason, but then hands it back.

“She said you might be here, Mr. Donner, please enjoy the show,” says the bouncer as he gestures towards the rest of the space behind him.

Dipping my head down in a small nod, I stride past him, fumbling to put my ID back into my hoodie pocket. There are people everywhere, and my chest starts to tighten, like it had earlier outside of Emma’s house. I want to watch Jules and her melodic singing is like a siren's call, but I need to find a spot that is easier to breathe. 

Luckily, I spot an empty stool at the bar when a very ruggedly handsome bartender is mixing drinks. Scooting onto the stool, I shift the seat around so I can watch Jules fully. As my eyes adjust to the lighting and focus past the sea of people, what I see takes my breath away.

Never have I ever seen Jules be the way she is right now on that stage. She is playing her guitar, owning the stage, singing with her bassist while her keyboardist and drummer accompany them in the symphony of sound. The music is harder and more intense than I usually listen to myself, but I like it. It has a nice beat, making my foot bounce in time with the rhythm.

Jules is almost dancing on stage as she sings, her lace-up boots on her fish-netted legs catching in the flashing green, blue then red lights. My eyes travel up and I see the tattoo she alluded to; a worm in black ink with bat-like wings and a bulbous head. Her skirt is short and slitted in a way that has me feeling that maybe I shouldn’t be staring. Moving on from that, my breath catches when I notice the tattoo on her chest; a black inked sun with a face right above her heart. 

Confusion settles in me, so much so that I know I can’t hide it from my face. Why would she get a sun tattoo above her heart? Hadn’t Joey always said that I was… and then she was…? Not being able to keep up with her movements on the stage, my eyes then focus on what seems to be dark bruises on her chest, disappearing into her top. A wave of concern for her hits me. Something about that does not feel right. I have no idea what it means, but I feel an emotion bubble in me that doesn’t usually surface; anger. Not at her, but at whoever caused those bruises.

“This cover is so good!” I hear a girl standing off to my left shouts to her friend over the sound of the music. Her friend nods in agreement, bouncing in place on the balls of her feet in excitement.

Smiling, I can’t help but agree. Jules’ very metal synthy cover of ‘You Spin Me Right Round (Like A Record)’ is exceptional. She amazes me, going from singing with her shorter bandmate with the eyebrow piercing and long black hair, to going into a guitar solo to round out the song. It’s no wonder people are dancing. The way her music makes me feel, I want to dance too, but I stay seated on my stool, bouncing my leg to the beat.

She is gorgeous, her teased purple hair flowing around her with each movement she makes. Sweat is clearly beading down her forehead, down her neck and back on to her chest. Despite the confusion of her tattoo and the anger of her bruises, I can’t help but feel a pull of desire when gazing at her. Which brings with it a whole other confusion; Emma.

I love Emma. She has been the girl I have loved since that fateful day, even before that. She had reminded me that my parents would always be there, that they would always love me. Emma had touched my heart when I needed it most. Wasn’t that enough?

Watching Jules finish out the song with a certain flare, it’s almost as if time stopped. Though I was in the back of the bar, her eyes somehow found mine. Surprise paints her facial features, but she swiftly recovers. Winking at me, which makes me blush, her attention quickly moves to the audience.

Letting her guitar hang low from the strap on her shoulder, she grabs the standing mic, bringing her lips to it.

“I hear there’s a 21st birthday going on tonight! Where’s the birthday girl?!” Jules says into the mic, a certain husky sound to her voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. 

There was a squeal in the crowd near the front by the stage of a girl, who is bouncing up and down, making her way up to the stage in front of Jules. The crowd is cheering on the girl.

The girl is pretty, blonde and in a pink short dress and silver heels that looked painful to wear. “Me! Me! Me! That’d be me!” She shouts with her hands in the air and a spotlight is aimed at her from above as she gets right in front of the stage.

Jules lifts the strap of her guitar over her head, handing it to her bassist, who takes it with an almost knowing smirk on her face. Grabbing the mic out of its stand, Jules kneels down on the stage to get closer to this girl, an almost very flirtatious smile on her face. I blush as I realize that I have seen that smile before and it stuns me.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Jules says into the mic before holding it out for the girl.

“Victoria! My name is Victoria! O! M! G! You are so hot!” The girl, Victoria, expresses with an emotion I can’t place in her voice.

A very low laugh leaves Jules’ lips that makes a strange heat start in my cheeks, it goes down through my chest and settles between my legs. As I feel a dull throb and twitch, I shift uncomfortably on the stool. What is happening right now? This is Jules. Joey’s twin, my best friend. Guilt starts to set in as my mouth begins to salivate in a way I can’t control.

Watching Jules lean down closer towards this Victoria has me on the edge of my seat.

Speaking into the mic, Jules says, “Well, Victoria, we have a bit of a birthday tradition we would love to do with you if you are willing.”

Victoria nods eagerly, her fingers gripping the edge of the stage. 

The next couple minutes happen both in slow motion and so quickly. Jules has Victoria brought on stage with her and the band. Someone, one of the bartenders I presume, brings up a can of beer, handing it to Jules. Victoria is a giddy ball of energy on stage standing next to Jules to the point where I am almost jealous. I wish I was closer.

The crowd is watching intently, chattering among themselves as they are eager to see the tradition Jules mentioned earlier. Bringing the mic to her lips again, Jules speaks in a low voice that has me feeling goosebumps forming on my arms under my jacket.

“Well, Victoria, baby girl, I need you on your knees,” Jules croons as she makes eye contact with Victoria. The crowd all seems to hold its breath as they watch Victoria do just that. I also feel as though I can’t breathe, and I have to put my hands over my lap so as to not appear indecent in public. Not being able to control my body is not something I enjoy. First over at Emma’s earlier and now this, but a very different lack of control, has me feeling very confused and uncomfortable.

Jules skillfully opens the can of beer with one hand as she holds the mic with the other. “Now, princess, I need you to open wide, and not spill a drop, can you do that for me?” Jules' voice holds promises of sin and chaos, a seductive combination.

Nodding, Victoria opens her mouth wide and lets her tongue hang out of her mouth. My eyes go wide as that is the longest tongue I have ever seen anyone have. Chuckling, Jules decides to comment on it, “Fuck, baby girl, your girlfriend is one lucky girl indeed!” 

Somewhere in the crowd a feminine voice shouts back, “Damn right I am!”

Victoria keeps doing what she is doing, but the stage lights pick up on the pink shade that her cheeks. Jules laughing at the woman’s comment finally makes something click in my head and now I am blushing. My hands push down more firmly down on my pajamas clad lap, both feeling that pleasure shooting through my body and just utter embarrassment. This kind of thing never is on my mind, not even with Emma, so why is Jules making me feel like this? She’s my friend. Just my friend.

Addressing the audience, Jules starts to tip the beer towards Victoria but doesn’t quite tip it fully to start dripping into her waiting mouth. “Should I give it to her? Has she been a good girl?”

The whole crowd, and I as well, shout in response, “Yes!” My voice felt rough as I said it though, almost as if I had swallowed pins and needles.

Turning her full attention towards Victoria, Jules finally tips the beer so a small trickle starts to drip onto her tongue. Victoria eagerly takes it, her hands reaching up to grab onto Jules thighs. Stopping the stream of beer, Jules tisks her. “Now, now, now, hands down princess, I want you to take it all hands free. Can you do that for me?”

Victoria nods again, opening her mouth wider. I feel my own mouth fall open as if mimicking what I am seeing, almost wishing it was me up there instead. Jules tips the can even further this time causing a fuller stream to begin to pour onto Victoria tongue.

“That’s right princess, take it all, drink down real good for me! Oh yeah! That’s right, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? You are taking it so good for me, oh baby!” Jules praises Victoria as she brings the beer closer to her lips. 

I am so glad no one is paying attention to me right now as I am having a hard time hiding how this is all affecting me. The crowd is cheering them on, in awe of the pure sexual energy that is happening before their eyes.

Tilting the beer up further, she is now making Victoria gulp it down hungrily. “Oh yeah, princess, you’re almost done! That’s right, take it all for me. Oh yeah, be mommy’s little slut, every last drop! Good girl!”

With that Victoria finishes the drink with Jules moaning praise and encouragement. I have to bite my own lip to stop my body reacting more than it already has. I feel out of breath and my hands are struggling to hide what would be very tented pajamas.

Jules looks down at Victoria with an expression of endearment that makes me feel like melting. “Happy birthday, princess. You did such a good job for me.” Jules hands the empty can to her bassist and the crowd is in an uproar, toasting to the stage and taking drinks of their own alcoholic beverages.

In a giddy mess, Victoria gets up from her kneeling position with help from Jules as she takes her hand. Jules whispers something to Victoria which makes her giggle, kiss her cheek. She then skips towards the steps to get down off the stage, and is in the arms of what I would assume is her girlfriend. They kiss passionately and I blush.

Bringing the mic back to her lips, Jules says, “You all enjoying the show?”

The crowd responds with clapping and whistles. I tried to vocally join the revelry but all that came out was a whimper. Heat rises to my cheeks again, though I am not sure it ever left, making me so glad that it is so loud in here that no one hears me.

“We’re gonna take five, get all lubricated for you again, so don’t y’all go anywhere!” Jules announces as she puts the mic back on the mic stand, and begins to walk to get off the stage. Her bandmates all make sure their instruments are secured before following after her.

My chest tightens as I realize she is headed this way, to get drinks from one of the bartenders. My situation hasn’t changed either. Keeping one hand covering my lap, I swivel on my stool, getting the attention of the male bartender.

“Can I get some water please?” I ask, still with an airy sound to my voice. The bartender nods, and grabs a glass, filling it with ice. He grasps a nozzle and pushes a button on it, filling it with water. Sliding it to me, I take it and drink it down quickly, some water dribbling out of the corner of my mouth onto my stubbled chin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, buddy. Jules really is something, isn’t she, eh?” The bartender says to me with a smirk on his face.

Rapidly I nod my head as I finish the water and hand the glass back to him, which he fills again. He chuckles when he hands me it filled again, watching me start to drink that too. I feel my current situation start to go away as the cold water calms me down.

The moment I feel myself start to relax, I hear her voice almost directly next to me, and my back tenses.

“Yo, Dean, babes, shots of Tequila!” Jules says as she slaps the bar counter, The bartender that had spoken to me looked in Jules direction, his smirk widening. Dean turns around to grab a bottle from the medium shelf of the liquor shelf, getting her order taken care of.

She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I dare to look at her. She is barely covered, and yet she is sweating. The very sight of drops of moisture dripping down her forehead makes me feel that very confusing feeling again. 

She is playing with her purple hair absentmindedly as she waits for the shots, still not seeing me, humming to the music the DJ decided to put on during her bands’ break. 

I take a sip of my water again, hoping the cool water will help dampen whatever feeling is coursing through me. Trying to think of Emma instead, I close my eyes, and my breathing evens out, my heartbeat slowing to normal. 

My hope is that when she does notice me that I won’t embarrass myself in front of her. Not only is she making me feel things that are confusing, but she is so much cooler than I ever knew. 

Talented, that’s what she is.

I knew she was cool before and I knew she had talent, but like this? Insecurity in my own abilities started to sink in. She was the one that taught me to juggle the summer before 5th grade, I owe everything to Jules with how I make a living. Do I even measure up to her in our friendship?

MASTER LIST/FIRST/PREVIOUS/NEXT

[guardian-of-da-gay]

The Hurt You Take (Part 5: Maddie)

Sequel to Throw It All Away

Read on Ao3

For Whumptober 2024 Prompt 18: Unreliable Narrator

Maddie had watched enough true crime shows to know that losing a child could break a family.  And she didn’t want that.  She didn’t want to feel bitter that Tails had found those stories about the Master Emerald, didn’t want to resent Sonic for throwing it away, and didn't want to blame Tom for getting in Knuckles' space at the wrong time.  She didn’t want to be torn between concern for Knuckles and anger at Knuckles.

Her mind kept playing the moment she’d stumbled through the dust cloud to see Knuckles with his hand around Sonic’s throat.  Then she would remember the way Knuckles’ voice had cracked and all the little ways he’d failed to hide the pain in his expression.  She didn’t want it.

And she didn’t want to wallow in guilt that if only she’d followed her first instinct and pulled him aside, just the two of them, that things would have gone differently.  She didn’t want to lie in bed at night hearing Knuckles’ voice in her head over and over:  ‘I trusted you not to hurt me.’

It was especially bad those first few nights.  Tom was hospitalized, then he was confined to the couch until he could be trusted around the stairs.  And all the while he was too out of it to be any kind of emotional support.  He was the opposite actually.  Which wasn’t his fault.  She didn’t want to blame him for something he couldn’t change and didn’t even remember.  It’d just felt like a punch to the gut every time he looked around, bleary eyed and saw his family around him sans one echidna warrior and asked:  “Where’s Knuckles?”

At least his questions had improved.  Instead of asking where Knuckles was or how the intervention went he was asking ‘what went wrong?’  Still, Maddie only gave him the abridged version.  It was partly out of fear he wouldn’t remember it again.  But it was also because she was spending every spare second overthinking what she should have done better and if she opened that floodgate she wouldn’t be able to stop.  She didn’t think she could take pouring out her heart and crying into his arms only for him to forget about it the next morning.

For all these reasons she’d decided to go see a therapist.

But now she was thinking that wasn’t such a good idea.

She had to drive a long way for one thing.  She’d thought it was worth it if it was only once every two weeks, but now she wasn’t sure.  Surely she could be spending this time more productively?  She had to go after work and she’d get home so late.  She could be spending that time with her family.  They needed her so much right now.

Was it selfish to focus on her mental health when one of them was missing and they were all hurting over it?  But no, the whole point of going was that she could keep herself together so she could keep her family together.

Except that her therapist kept derailing her!  Maddie talked about Knuckles and all the little signs she missed.  She talked about Knuckles losing sleep over-protecting the Emerald.  How she thought he had ‘neurotic German Shepherd energy’ and never addressed it other than to curb the more destructive behaviors.  She talked about all the ways he’d struggled to settle in (which she wondered now if he ever fully had).  She proposed her theories and asked her therapist’s opinion: do you think he could’ve had an attachment disorder?  BPD?  PTSD?  He was definitely on the autism spectrum, right?

And then her therapist would say she wasn’t Knuckles’ therapist and couldn’t diagnose him and try to make Maddie talk about herself.  So Maddie would!  She’d talk about everything she did wrong and all the things she might have done to change things for the better.  She contemplated all the ways she could have taken charge of helping Knuckles with his mental health and tried to get her therapist's opinion on what she’d done wrong or right.

Finally tonight her therapist had said:  “It seems like you want me to join in on beating you up over this.  I’m not here to pass judgment.  I’m here to help you.”

Maddie felt the best way to help her was to tell her all the ways she’d fucked up as a mother so she could not do those things again.  Maybe she should see a different therapist.  Someone who specialized in parenting?  She was so much better with animals!

Maddie’s thoughts chased around and around her head the whole drive home.  She’d tried putting on a ‘relaxing’ playlist, but it was having the opposite effect.  Her kid was missing.  Soothing zen instrumentals felt like an insult.  She fumbled to hit the button and eventually succeeded in turning if off.  But that just left her with silence and her own stewing thoughts.

Maddie’s mentor had taught her a concept called ‘the Trust Bank’.  Good interactions with animals put trust into the bank.  When you had a procedure that took trust out of the bank.  The goal was to have enough trust built up that when you came out and stuck them with a needle, there would still be some trust leftover.  Maddie knew how to build trust with animals.

She’d tried applying the Trust Bank concept to kids.

When Sonic first came into their lives, good interactions and bonding experiences put enough trust in his bank that she and Tom could leave for Hawaii and he wasn’t scared that they’d never come back.

Maddie hadn’t realized how little trust she had built up with Knuckles.  She’d thought they were close.  Not in a warm, cuddly way, sure, but still close.  Maybe she’d mistaken fondness and respect for trust.  Or maybe she’d just severely underestimated how much trust separating him from the emerald would withdraw.  Either way, the result was the same: they’d overdrawn, the Trust Bank was empty.  And he wasn’t interested in letting them refill it.

Simplifying all this down into a Trust Bank analogy was helpful.  If she let herself fully immerse in reality, she’d break down.

‘I trusted you not to hurt me.’

She squeezed her eyes shut tight.  She had to focus.  Focus on what was in front of her.  That, at least, was some good therapist advice.  Focus on driving.  Which meant she probably shouldn’t have her eyes shut.

Maddie opened her eyes again just in time to see a small figure dart across the road.  She slammed the breaks, twisting the wheel as the tires screamed.  The car stopped and Maddie whipped her head around.  Where was it–there!

A black cat vanished into the brush, flashing a bright red collar.  Maddie swore, suddenly flooded with an irrational anger.  Who the hell let their cat out at night around here?  It was cold!  There were bears and wolves and mountain lions and coyotes and lynxes and bobcats and fucking–so many creatures that would happily snack on a little kitty.  Hell, she could have run the poor thing over and its family would’ve never known what happened to it!

She had no idea if Knuckles was alive right now.

The anger popped like a balloon and suddenly her eyes were welling with tears.

What if they never found him?  What if she never knew that he was alive and safe ever again?

Maddie wheezed and fumbled for the glove compartment.  She grabbed a wad of old McDonald’s napkins and buried her face in their scratchy texture just in time for the tears to fall.

When he’d jumped through that portal, so high up over a field of nothing but lava, she’d thought for one horrible second that he was throwing himself to his death.  But of course, sometimes gravity just didn’t really apply to Knuckles.  He hadn’t fallen so much as glided.  He’d nearly reached the distant cliffs when the portal closed.  She hadn’t seen him land.  But surely he must be safe right?  He was Knuckles!  He was indestructible; nothing could hurt him!

But so many things had hurt him before he came to live with them.  Now he was out there alone.  Where all those bad things were.  She would never know.  She could never help.  Anything could happen to him.  Anything could hurt him!

‘I trusted you not to hurt me!’

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Shifted - The Night Before Christmas (Chapter 4/?)

A/N: My goal was to finish this story completely by New Year’s Day. *checks watch* Hmph. *sigh* Again, this is a Secret Santa fic for @jensengirl83, who I can only hope will forgive me for how long this is taking me to throw together. Also, not beta-read because we die like men and all that. (Want to read what I post a day before I post it everywhere else? Check out my ko-fi page!)

Story summary: The Winchesters are meeting your family for the first time when you all visit for Christmas. Things don’t go quite to plan.

Chapter summary: Everyone goes to their separate bedrooms, leaving you to fight for space in a bed with Sam.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count (chapter/story): 1987/6035

Warnings: Here there be smut!

Previous chapter - Series masterlist

When your perfectly reasonable explanation for what had happened between Dean and Tracey went over like a lead balloon, you decided to just cut your losses and break up the party so everyone could relax in neutral corners. Claiming to be extra tired after the day’s drive, you herded the boys upstairs and into your separate bedrooms, taking advantage of your family lagging behind to slip a quick kiss to Dean before turning into the guest room with Sam. You closed the door behind you and leaned back against it, staring at nothing while you tried to puzzle out your predicament.

“Which side of the bed do you want?” Sam asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you replied. “As long as you stay on your side of it and don’t kick me in the night,” you teased with a smile.

Sam chuckled. “I’ll try.”

Just then, you heard your parents and Tracey coming up the stairs through the door, so you quietly shushed Sam and pressed your ear against the wood to see if you could hear anything. It was all whispers, but you managed to catch a snippet of conversation.

“…I just need to do some research to be sure,” your sister insisted.

“Then do your research. I want to know who’s sleeping under my roof!” came from your dad.

“I’m sure they can’t be that bad. We didn’t raise a fool.” Thanks, Mom.

“Everyone’s a fool, sometimes….” Really, Dad?

The whispers faded away and you slumped with your forehead pressed against the door, despairing. Tracey also wasn’t a fool and depending on what she ‘researched’ about the boys, she could find any number of things. Things were just going to get worse. After banging your head against the door a couple of times, you turned into the room and started getting ready for bed, your mind whirling. You got changed into your pajamas, you and Sam both changing with your backs to each other like you always did when you shared a room during hunts, and crawled into the bed with a sigh.

“Hear anything good?” Sam asked after he’d crawled under the covers next to you.

“Nope. In fact, it sounds bad. Tracey’s going to do ‘research’ to be sure about something, and my dad thinks I’m a fool.” You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, and sighed. “I just don’t know how to fix this.” You threw your arms up in the air and let them fall back to your sides with a whump. “Maybe I need to just talk to Tracey alone and find out what she’s thinking. Just come right out, take the bull by the horns, and ask her what’s got her so suspicious.”

Sam grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “You know your family best. This plan was half-cocked to begin with, but now we’ve got overnight to think about it and find a way to fix it. Let’s sleep on it. Maybe Santa will bring an answer?” Sam teased.

“I wouldn’t trust a mythological being that eats nothing but cookies and milk and plays with elves to fix my life, Sam. And don’t get me started on the multiple felonies he commits on a regular basis. Stalking? Breaking and entering? Honestly, he’s worse than us,” you deadpanned, giving your friend a smirk.

Sam chuckled and let go of your hand. “Alright then, I’m going to sleep,” he said as he turned away from you and got comfortable. Pretty soon, you heard his breathing even out, so you turned off the light and stared into the darkness, thoughts continuing to circle in your mind.

An hour later, you were still lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, only now you were missing Dean. As feared, Sam had begun to starfish, and now he’d kicked you in the shin and nearly elbowed you in the side at one point.

Sam let out an ear-splitting snore that seemed to startle himself almost awake. With a groan, he turned over towards you, kicked you for the second time, and threw his arm across your waist. If it had been Dean, you’d have just snuggled into him, and it would have been fine. But it wasn’t.

“Oof,” you groaned at the heavy weight of his arm practically sucker punching you in the gut. “Alright, that’s it,” you declared quietly, not really wanting to wake the giant. “I’m getting the fuck out of here before you do some serious damage.”

With much effort, you wriggled out from under Sam’s arm, then almost fell out of the bed in the process. Once you were out, you straightened yourself out and gave one last glare at the man you thought of like a brother. He’d already shifted in the bed, again, and was literally taking over the entire queen bed, your pillow now scrunched underneath his head.

As quietly as you could, you opened the door and crossed the hall to your old bedroom door. The door was unlocked, and you snuck inside, softly closing and locking the door behind you. You checked the bathroom door, made sure that it, too, was locked, and then tip-toed to the bed.

Dean was lying on just one side of the bed, one arm reaching across the bed. As you made your way to the other side of the bed, he mumbled quietly into his pillow, “Sam took over the bed, didn’t he?” The arm stretched across the bed grabbed the cover and lifted it up for you without any other part of him moving.

With a quiet chuckle you replied, “Yeah. Kicked me twice, too.” Crawling into the bed, you slid under the cover and snuggled close to your boyfriend, tucking your face into his neck.

Dean tucked the cover around you and pulled you close, moving just enough to kiss the top of your head. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad Sammy. Promise.”

Immediately feeling like you were where you were supposed to be, you sighed happily and drifted off to sleep.

Sunlight was peeking in through the curtains, shining in your eyes when you woke to feel Dean’s arms around you, his hands wandering your body while he rutted gently against your ass. You knew you had to be quiet. This was your parents’ house, for Pete’s sake, and you weren’t supposed to be in this particular bed with this particular Winchester, er, Campbell. If anyone heard, the jig would be up and the whole plan would crash and burn.

But Dean’s hands…!

A quiet moan escaped you, in spite of you biting your lip to try and stop it, and Dean answered with a quiet moan of his own.

“Been waiting for you to wake up, pretty girl. But you have to be quiet,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling you and sending goosebumps down your body.

“I’m not sure I can,” you whimpered. “You know how I get.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I do.” He shifted a little while he murmured, “Let me help you out, then.” One hand moved up to cover your mouth while the other finally made its way into your pajama pants and between your legs. As his fingers explored you, finding you already wet and ready, you were glad for the hand over your mouth. You shifted to open yourself up to him more, pressing against him behind you until he bit into your clothed shoulder to muffle his own groan.

You knew this was a bad idea, but that just made it so much hotter. Molten lava seemed to rush through your body as he worked you expertly with his fingers. Dean always knew exactly how to touch you to get you off faster and better than any other man ever had. He also knew how to stretch it out if he wanted to, making you beg until he was ready to give you what you wanted. This morning, he seemed more intent on making you come fast and hard until you saw stars.

“Been thinking about this room,” Dean whispered in your ear between desperate breaths as you moved together. “Wondering what teenage you did in this bed, who you thought about, if they ever lived up to your fantasies. Wondered if anyone else ever got to be in this bed with you like this. Or am I the first? What did you dream that your high school boyfriends would do to you if they were ever in this bed with you? Did you touch yourself while you imagined them touching you? Is this anything like what little teenage you imagined?”

You couldn’t exactly respond with Dean’s hand over your mouth, but you were sure he could feel the rush of arousal that felt like it flooded out of you. You were close, and he was relentless, his fingers deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit, working together to build you up higher and higher.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna blow soon, aren’t you? I can feel you almost there. I’m nearly there, too. Haven’t come like this since I was in high school. You’re so much better than anything I ever dreamed of, though. So fucking hot,” he groaned, his hands working steadily as his hips rocked into yours faster and faster.

Your high hit hard and fast, leaving you almost biting Dean’s hand to keep quiet as the pleasure rocked through you. Dean locked up behind you as you started to come down, his fingers temporarily stalling while he met his end. When he started to come back around, you felt him gently withdraw from you, leaving you feeling empty, but sated. He dropped his hand from your mouth, and you hauled in a couple of breaths before your breathing slowed back down to normal. Dean’s lips brushed your neck and shoulder while he withdrew his hand from your pants, and then you heard him lewdly lick his fingers clean.

“Damn, baby, that was something else,” he murmured. “Totally worth nearly getting my hand bitten.” Dean chuckled quietly while you turned in his arms so you could give him a teasing glare and roll your eyes at him.

You both smiled goofy smiles at each other before Dean kissed you softly. You kissed quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying being close, in spite of everything that was going on around you.

“I should probably get out of here before people start waking up and wondering where I am,” you said between sweet kisses that would have possibly led to round two if you were at home in the bunker and not seeing a boy band poster on the wall.

Dean hummed his agreement, and the two of you worked to separate yourselves. As you worked to straighten out your panties and pajama pants, Dean pulled his sticky boxers away from his skin with a noise of disgust.

“I forgot how gross this is,” he muttered while you stifled a giggle.

“Let me get to the bathroom and get out first, and then you can take a shower and get cleaned up.”

“Sounds good,” Dean said before dropping a kiss onto your nose and releasing you from his hold so you could get out bed.

Feeling happier than you had since you got in the car the day before, you left the bed and stopped at the bathroom door, listening intently for signs that your sister was awake and using the facilities. Without a sound, you opened the door and stepped through, silently closing the door behind you.

As you turned around to lock the other doors so you could pee, Tracey’s door opened and she saw you, clearly coming in from the ‘wrong’ door. “Y/N?” she whispered loudly, her eyes wide and jaw tense. “What were you doing in there with Dean while your boyfriend is across the hall asleep?!?”

Chapter 5

Ye olde forever tags list: @icecream-and-gadreel @manawhaat @sammit-janet @littlegreenplasticsoldier @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @iwantthedean @growningupgeek @feelmyroarrrr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @chelsea072498-deactivated202303 @helvonasche @rizlowwritessortof @wheresthekillswitch @sandlee44 @icequeen1371 @tistai @pie-and-pudding @thelittleredwhocould @supernaturallymarvellous @ellen-reincarnated1967 @notnaturalanahi @salt-n-burn-em-all @fumar-et-flores @chalicia @smalltowndivaj @littlefreakingfangirl @straightestgay-voice @percywinchester27 @vanessa-monique-blog @gallxntdean @antares1980 @hunterpuff @beffyblueeyes-blog @sammiesamness @cassieraider @emoryhemsworth @speakinvain @andkatiethings @latetothewinchesterparty @winchesterprincessbride @drakelover78 @calaofnoldor @idreamofplaid @akshi8278

[choccyhearts]

If You Like It Or Not - The Brobecks // Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: This is the part two to Watercolor Eyes, so read that first ^_^ Also I used this song cause it just sounds like something Eddie would say so...

CW: Fluff, Eddie being extra af so maybe second-hand embarrassment??

Summary: "After taking a break, Eddie wants his girl back so he decides to take the chance to confess his true feelings in the most Eddie way possible... (Slight angst, fluff)"

♡♡♡

"I'm yours and you're mine, if you like it or not"

♡♡♡

It had been a month after your big fight with Eddie. You were getting by day by day, hating going to school a little more than usual. Occasionally, you would find a single flower taped to your locker -- sometimes this made you smile, sometimes you'd throw it directly into the trash. You knew who the vandal was and you paid him no mind. You did enjoy having the space from him, using the time to heal and consider your options on how to move on with your life.

Do you stay with him or end things for real?

Your friends were great help. They were great listeners and especially great at distracting you and making you feel happy again. If you didn't force them to go back to Hellfire they would've all quit. You, however, did quit. You had Gareth tell Eddie you just wanted time to yourself, which Eddie both understood and felt heartroken all over again.

He still kept your chair next to him empty, shooting down every guy's suggestion to find another member. "She'll be back, she will. Please, let me believe she will be."

Gareth was your biggest cheerleader for your recuperation. He did all he could to support you in whatever you did. If you felt like skipping lunch and crying, he'd find you later and offer his ear. If you wanted to have fun and be careless, he was there to take you wherever you wanted.

It was nice to have such caring friends to get through this.

Eddie, however, was on the receiving end of a neck wringing at the Hellfire meeting that followed your fight. Each boy went in on him, telling him he had his perfect girl and he deserved to lose you.

It took a lot of apologies and explaining in order to get them to want to help him again.

"Goddammit, I just can't lose her, especially now that I know I love her...I fuckin' love her! You gotta help me!", Eddie grabs Gareth by the shirt.

"Jesus, alright, I'll help, but if you fuck up again, I'm not coming back, you're on your own!" Gareth dusts himself off after shoving Eddie away.

"I need her to know how I feel and that I don't care anymore. I don't care who knows it, she's all mine and she's perfect."

"Wow, was that so hard to say?", Jeff chides.

"Okay, enough making me feel terrible, are you guys gonna help or kick my ass?"

Each boy looks away pondering.

"Come on!", Eddie slumps into his throne.

"Alright, alright, we'll help", Dustin says sitting down. They all gather and begin to brainstorm, thus leading to Eddie taping flowers to your locker.

It was a start, he thought. A way to show he still cares.

His next move was to play your song at Corroded Coffin's next gig.

He'd held off on doing so because he needed it just right -- nothing but excellence for you. He made the guys practice like crazy, begging (aka yelling at) them to practice extra at home.

"If this isn't the best thing she's ever heard, she'll never take me back!"

Gareth invites you, saying Eddie has a big surprise for you.

"Is the big surprise leaving me alone?" Over the past few weeks of your separation you'd calmed down. You no longer felt anger, more annoyance.

"It's been weeks, dude, are you ready to cut him just a little slack?"

You chew your lip. You do miss him and you want him back.

"Fine", you sigh. "I'll go, but if he does anything too dramatic I'm leaving."

Gareth nods and smiles, cursing himself in his head.

You arrive at the Hideout just as the guys are setting up. You decided to go by yourself and get the night over with.

Eddie immediately perks up when he sees you, running over to Gareth.

"She came! She's here!", Eddie shakes Gareth's arm excitedly.

"I know, I know!", Gareth tries to straighten himself up. "Be cool, man. Don't be...ya know...too much, alright?"

"I'm as cool as a cucumber", Eddie smiles.

Once they're set up you sit towards the back, wanting to blend in. If he's making you come here you might as well let him put on a good performance and not distract him.

"Oookay, how's everyone tonight?", Eddie pauses for a second. "We are, of course, Corroded Coffin and tonight we're gonna be debuting a special song tonight." Eddie's eyes scan the room until he finds you. "It's for a pretty girl who deserves the world."

You can't help but chuckle. Of course this is why he wanted you here.

"One...two..three!"

As the boys play the familiar melody, you find yourself covering your now heating face. Each lyric sounds different, more powerful. You continue to shift in your seat, unable to get comfortable -- not that you could if you wanted to. Eddie's gaze is trained on you the entire song. When he isn't looking at his guitar he's look into your eyes.

As the song finishes you notice your face is a bit damp. Sweat? Maybe. Tears? Embarrassingly, yes.

You quickly wipe your face and compose yourself. The boys play another song, this time without Eddie as he's made his way off stage and over to you.

"Thank you for coming", he says over the music.

"I had nothing else to do", you tease.

"Well, I hope I didn't bore you."

"Not entirely."

He takes your hands into his sweaty ones before setting his forehead against yours.

"I meant it when I said I love you. I still do. I miss you."

You pull your gaze away from his.

"But you hurt me. Really bad."

"I know, I know. I'm an idiot if you couldn't tell." He takes your chin with his fingers and makes you look at him. "But I'm willing to keep fighting for you. I will, even if we're like, in our nineties and you finally say you want me back. I'll still be pining after you."

You giggle and bring your face to his chest. You love hearing his heart beat -- It's soothing. It adds to the warmth of his hugs and cuddles.

"It only beats for you, sweetie." He sets his head on yours. You stay there for a moment before you pull away.

You brush his sweaty curls away from his forehead before dragging your hand down his face.

"Tonight was nice, Eddie." You stand up and grab your bag. "But I still need some time, okay?"

He nods and looks away trying not to tear up.

You kiss the back of his hand before leaning up to his ear and whispering, "Don't stop trying."

The next week you find yourself excited to go to school. Excited to see that metalhead running around again. When you reach your locker you find an entire bouquet of flowers resting by your locker, along with a note:

"For the sweetest girl. Have a good day,

Love,

your man (if you still want me to be)"

You smile at the note, putting the flowers into your locker and taping the note to the inside of the door.

At lunch time you find yourself standing at the entrance in deep thought. Sit by yourself like usual or go back to the guys's table where you belong? Only recently has Eddie begun sitting there again. You told the guys it was okay, but in turn you sat alone.

As you watch the guys already joking around and Eddie remaining absent from his seat you decide to hang out with your friends again.

Even if Eddie shows, at least you're both on better terms, sweeter, more lovey terms.

"Heyyy, there she is! You enjoy the show last week?", Gareth calls to you. You purse your lips as you sit down.

"It was alright, but then this weirdo band got up on stage and it was just too much for me", you giggle. Gareth shoves you playfully and resumes talking to the guys.

As you nibble on the chips you brought you hear a familiar jingling of chains.

"Well, well, who's the new girl?" You look up and find Eddie's eyes filled to the brim with adoration. "She's pretty, whoever she is."

He sits next you in his usual spot, eyes never leaving you.

"Shut up, man. We get it, you guys are in love", Jeff tosses a pretzel at Eddie as the other guys groan and make playful comments.

You both look away from each other.

"Well, actually, we're just on good terms right now", you pipe up, surprising both you and Eddie.

An awkwardness settles over the table. You keep your eyes down.

"Well, anyways...", Gareth clears his throat. "Who here likes greasy fries and burgers? Why don't we all go check out that new spot that opened up after Hellfire?"

The other guys agree and slowly turn to the both of you.

"You in?"

"I...", you begin before getting cut off by Eddie.

"Come on, we're all friends...or friendly", he gestures to you. "Why not? I'm in, and they better have good milkshakes, I know this one likes doing the fries in the milkshake thing."

"Yeah, cause it's good!", you say playfully defensive. "Yeah, I'm in."

"So then are you returning to Hellfire?", Dustin asks.

Gareth lightly slaps Dustin's arm as the other guys shoot him looks.

"Uh...I would but, I have plans during that time", you lie. It's one thing to hang out with all of them, but returning to Hellfire was making a new commitment, something you were trying to avoid.

"That's okay, we'll swing by to get you after", Gareth fills the awkward space.

At Hellfire the boys are subjected to another one of Eddie's brainstorming meetings.

"Okay, we are really making progress! Last week she kissed me-"

"She kissed you!?", they all say.

"That's great! I mean, usually it's disgusting, but this is good now!", Gareth smiles.

"Well, she kissed here", Eddie holds up the back of his hand. "But that counts, right?"

No one answers.

"Whatever, you all get kisses from your mommies", Eddie says after a beat. "Anyways, she told me to keep trying. But like, for how long? Like yes, I'm willing to try until I die but also, I need her, man!"

"Why not try again tonight? We could give you guys some alone time and maybe try to give her that heart-felt speech we all know you have in you", Gareth suggests.

Eddie stops his pacing and thinks. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, then we should leave now because I need to run by the flower shop before it closes!"

Eddie grabs his jacket quickly.

"Stop buying her flowers, man!", Dustin says. "She's got enough to open up her own flower shop."

But it's too late, Eddie's already out the door.

You hear a horn outside and you peak out the window. A familiar van sits in your driveway and your stomach is filled with butterflies.

You take one last look in the mirror. You decided to look a little bit nicer than you did at school so you put on some makeup and styled your hair up in a lazy, but cute, hairstyle.

You grab your bag and head outside. As soon as you open the door your greeted by the owner of the van standing on your porch.

You jump back in surprise, in turn surprising him.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to surprise you!" He composes himself before extending his arms. "I picked these up for you."

A bouquet of red roses are held out to you. You can't help but burst into giggles as you take them.

"Very sweet, Munson. But you really should stop buying flowers, I've tun out of vases or vase-like objects."

He furrows his brow and bites his lip. You set them aside in your house and take his hand.

"But, I love them. Thank you."

He breaks into a giddy smile and leads you outside. He opens the passenger side door and closes it once your inside.

As he makes his way around you turn and see Dustin and Gareth huddled in the back.

"'Sup guys, you good back there?"

"He forced us back here", Dustin deadpans.

You place your hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. "Do you wanna sit up here instead?"

"No!", Eddie says once inside. All eyes turn to him curiously. "The lady gets priority, can't have her getting all roughed up back there."

"It's not like you never roughed her up back here before....", Gareth mumbles.

Both of your faces heat up and you turn forward away from the boys.

"Awh, sick dude!", Mike says surprising you.

"Mike, you're back there too?"

"Yeah, and I'm trying to get comfortable but this van sucks!"

When Dustin went to change the station he got his fingers smacked by Eddie who gestured to you saying, "You pick the station."

Once you all arrive to the restaurant the back occupants nearly break down the van's doors.

"Ugh, sweet air!", Mike calls out to the night sky.

You unbuckle and begin to open the door but Eddie reaches across and shuts it.

"Let me!" He scampers around the van and opens it, taking your hand to help you out. He continues to hold it as you walk into the place.

You let him, enjoying the familiar feeling. You can't help but find yourself longing for Eddie again. This was your Eddie. The chivalrous, kind, adorably goofy Eddie.

You all sit at a booth and look over the menus. You sit next to Eddie, placing your bag in between you to keep some space.

Once you all order you lean back and enjoy the stupid conversations you find yourselves having.

"Hey, they have a Pac-Man game, I'm going over", Mike says getting up. "Don't you want to watch me play?", he eyes the other boys.

"Y-yeah, I have next, I bet I can beat your score", Gareth plays along.

As they leave you find yourself alone with Eddie.

"Those..."

"Idiots", you finish for him. "I guess all of you lack subtlety."

"Hey", he says offended. You push his arm.

"Oh what, Mr. Stands On Lunch Tables?"

"Point taken", he takes a sip of his drink. "So...how have you been?"

"Good," you sip your own drink. "I've had a lot of time to actually do my assignments", you joke.

Eddie nods and looks around, eyes landing on a jukebox. As the gears turn in his head your food arrives.

You notice him frown as he inspects his burger. Pickles. Out of instinct you pluck them from his burger and put them on yours, picking the tomato off of yours and putting it on his. He blushes, feeling a wave of both relief and happiness -- happiness because you remembered, relief because you might finally take him back soon. Tonight, even.

As you eat you both continue doing little quirks you used to do. You wipe ketchup from his mouth, he slides you some of his fries when you eat yours too fast, he even rests his arm on the booth behind you.

The guys begin to feel like they're on the most awkward date ever.

When you all finish Eddie nods for Gareth to talk to him alone.

"Okay, I figured out how to seal the deal."

"'Kay...", already suspicious Eddie's excitement.

"They got a jukebox", Eddie eyes it again. "And I know for a fact, they're gonna have our song on it. So, I thought-"

"Nope, no. That is too much and you're gonna embarrass her."

"No, no, see she's gonna find it funny and cute, you know her."

"Yeah, I do, which is why I'm axing this idea. She's gonna get upset."

You check your watch and see it's getting late.

"Hey, Eddie", you call. He turns to you. "I should get going soon."

"Yeah, yeah, soon!" He spins back to Gareth. "Come on!"

Gareth groans and throws his head back. "Ugh, what do you need me to do?"

"Get those guys outta here."

You toy with a straw wrapper as Eddie comes back to you.

"Heyyy", he smiles.

"Hi", you smile back. He takes your hand in his and plays with your fingers. You set your head on his chest, relaxing before seeing Gareth walk over to you guys.

"Ay, all you guys, outside." He turns to Eddie and slaps his back before leaving. The other guys look at each other confused but follow his lead.

Softly, your song begins to play. You bite your lip and look at Eddie. He smiles at you and brings his forehead to yours before nuzzling your nose with his.

"Sweetie, I love you", he whispers.

"I...I love you too", you whisper back.

"No, no, I love you." He pulls away from your embrace. "I love you", he says louder.

"Eds..."

"I love you!", he slowly stands up. "Sweetie, baby, angel, you're the most perfect girl I've ever met! You're so f...freaking rad!" Eddie eyes around the restaurant, a couple tables looking over.

"Thank you, Eddie, now-"

"You make the stars jealous because you're so beautiful! Wait...", he pauses. "The stars are in your eyes!", he corrects. "Every guy wishes they could feel the love I feel for you! Cause what I have in here", he hits his chest. "This is real, baby!"

He stands up on his seat and you immediately cover your mouth.

"I wake up thinking about you, excited to hear your voice, hear your jokes, listen to that adorable laughter -- God, you could go on SNL, you know that? You've made Wayne laugh and that old man is a hard egg to crack! And your little outfits you put together rival those that the weird French designers in magazines try to make. I mean, you made the Hellfire shirt look totally bitchin'!"

You've now sunk down in your seat, admiring the man above you.

He takes it a step further -- literally -- and hops on to the table.

"And you listen to the coolest bands, I mean not just mine but, I've never heard a song you liked that I didn't. Also, Corroded Coffin, come see us at the Hideout!", Eddie directs to the other patrons.

"Eddie", you giggle.

"Oh, yeah, you", he bends down. "You are my match made in heaven -- you're my person. I know it, I do. And I was horrible, and dumb and scared -- an overall coward. None of those are excuses but I need you to know that I know what I feel now, and I know that I want you in my life from now until we die. And then after that cause I doubt there's gonna be any cool ghost babes."

You playfully hit his arm. He takes your hand in his again and kisses it.

"Because you're gonna be my girl forever, I don't care. You could rip my heart away and throw it into a dumpster, it would still beat for you...despite that being scientifically incorrect. You're it for me. So, will you have me as yours again?"

Outside the boys have taken to peering in through the window.

"What the hell is he doing?", Mike asks.

"He's being cheesy and over the top", Lucas chimes in.

"Eh, that's who he is anyways", Dustin says.

You answer Eddie by kissing him, an erruption of cheers coming from outside distracting both of you.

Gareth shoos them away and you both smile.

"You're my person too. But please, get off the table", you plead.

Eddie hops down and kisses you again.

Other tables have turned back to their food, most bored after realizing he wasn't proposing but being a silly kid.

You make him leave a giant tip as an apology before going outside.

Once you both arrive at your house you sit for a minute, holding hands.

"That was quite the show."

"Better than last week's?"

"Eh, they're too different to compare." Eddie leans over and kisses your cheek. "You know I really did do a lot of reflecting during our time apart."

"Oh no, you don't actually want to get back together", Eddie's eyes widen.

"No! No, I do. But, I do think we need to make changes. I don't want you to run away from me."

Eddie nods, his thumb making circles in your palm.

"We can talk about it later, but I want us to be stronger than before. Especially with graduation coming up, I want to last forever."

"I do too. Forever and into ghosthood."

♡♡♡

I feel like this sucks😭😭 I really tried tho, I swear

♡Tags♡

@fanfictioniseverything

@squirrelgirl23

Thanks for reading the first part!! ^_^

[constantvariations]

Rwby V9C2. This time i decided to put all my thoughts down as i watched the episode (i know most folks do this as a massive series of reblogs. No thanks lol)

You know its gonna be a gr8 episode when the very first line is a disingenuous trope aware quip. No wonder at the new world, no anxiety about how to get home. Nope! Just... bland disinterest. Did Joss Whedon join crwby?

I hate Little so goddamn much. Idk if yall read that one teaboot post where they talk about their hatred of Olaf from Frozen but I am reaching that level of irrational fury

As much as I like the uses of sweat drops and pop animation and frustration speech bubbles because they're delightful anime visual tropes... it's wayyy to late to be introducing those now. This would be like adding farting unicorns to The Walking Dead after half the cast was eaten. Again. Once more, I am asking what the fuck the tone is supposed to be here

Why is it called the Ever After? Wonderland rolls off the tongue way better and makes more sense for the name of a new world/dimension/whatever

So glad to be getting the exposition on the girl who fell through the world now instead of any organic weaving into dialogue prior. I love getting my information shoved down my throat all at once

I do actually like them discussing the tale. Different takeaways from the same story are always fun. Wish it could've lasted longer, I really want more conversations between these guys that aren't always directly about the plot

Okay, Weiss's doubts are good to hear. Sound like a lot of the stuff we've been saying, which may or may not be on purpose. Strange she doesn't mention her family at all, though, just the downfall of Atlas. Would've been really interesting to hear her thoughts on her parents and brother

Little needs to die. Now.

Weiss going back and forth between freaking out about the impracticality of their situation and taking charge when impracticality occurs is jarring. Maybe it's the smaller nonsense she can handle and not the big, abstract stuff? Guess we'll see

"I've always wanted to be long, but I'm still small." That's the funniest thing crwby has written in the last 5 seasons and it goes to the worst character. Typical rwby lol

Yang is absolutely intolerable in this auction bit. Knowing she's in a strange and illogical world, her first instinct is to be a cop? I've seen children act less petulant than her. Also, any item bought is probably more easily stolen from the buyer than the racoon, so why isn't that even on the table right now?

Did these idiot townsfolk really not know the gimmick? He's been at this long enough to be immortalized in a fairy tale, and I highly doubt there's enough space in Wonderland for him to never visit the same place twice. Unless everyone's memories get reset after a certain point, they should damn well know the coon is a con

Also that sword looks like it should be in Halo. Guess old habits die hard

Not this fucking Scooby Doo shit again. Can these characters stop interacting with the loop de loop sections before I throw my computer into the sun?

Wait that's Penny's sword? It's ugly as shit why you gotta do Penny dirty like that again

I find Ruby's expression of depression to be highly unbelievable. The excuse for so long has been that she's been hiding her emotions for the sake of everyone else, which is a fair enough point, but now there's not even a token effort. No obviously painful smiles, no jokes she breaks partway through, no overcompensating by hyping up too much. Ruby might as well be the goth girl at the top of the skyscraper from the All Star Superman comic for all the characteristically realistic depiction of depression she has

It worked well enough when she was alone and didn't have to fake for anyone - which is why everyone was so excited for Ruby to finally be free to break - but that was nipped right in the bud, and nothing has grown in its place. It's just... disappointing

[skeletonfarmer]

I know tumblr is not the best place for relationship advice but pls lol

Also fair warning this is a long post and TW for mention of suicide

Some backstory: my boyfriend (21) and I (22) have been together for two and a half years. I struggle with severe depression and occasional psychotic symptoms (mood swings, hallucinations, irrational thoughts, etc). I was also diagnosed with cancer in January 2022. I recently had to quit my full time job due to mental and physical health reasons, so he is the only one working right now.

So for the past several months, but especially the past few weeks or so my boyfriend and I have been arguing a lot and I’m not sure what to do or if it’s healthy.

There’s always an array of things the arguments are about but usually they can be boiled down to one of us not feeling appreciated/not feeling loved/feeling like we’re being taken advantage of.

Our most recent argument started yesterday afternoon. A mutual friend of ours surprised me yesterday late morning and helped me clean our apartment almost the whole day, it was like 4-5 hours, with a break for lunch of course. Later on she had asked me if my bf and I could babysit because her fiance had gotten tickets to a baseball game and she wanted to go, but she didn’t wanna ask her mom to babysit since she had been watching her all day. I agreed but let her know that it would probably just be me.

Later when we were on the way back to her apartment my boyfriend had gotten off work and gone home. He called me and was immediately rude as I answered the phone, and he complained about how when we were cleaning/organizing, we moved some of his stuff to where he didn’t like it. He was mainly upset that we moved his (large amount) of alcohol bottles to a separate shelf rather than it taking up 1/3 of our already limited counter space. I told him that if he didn’t like where we put the stuff then he should help me clean on the weekends so he could decide where it goes himself. He got really upset and said that since he works and I don’t, it’s my job to clean and he doesn’t have to clean since he works, and that I should know it’s rude to “throw his stuff on a shelf in the corner”

Our friend hears him and when she sees him she goes off on him for awhile about how you talk to someone you love that way, and I didn’t hear much of what was said but what I did hear it sounded like he mainly put blame on me and put me down to try and justify his words and actions.

We argued about it on and off for the rest of the night but I thought by the time we went to bed we were fine.

When we woke up this morning within 30 minutes he was mad again, this time about how we don’t have enough money for groceries this week, bills, or gas for him to get to work. The way he said it made it feel like he was blaming me for not being able to work, so I felt guilty and asked my mom for $30 to help with groceries. He also somehow got a refund for our dinner we had last night, so that was $25-30 back.

After we go grocery shopping I have to go make a return at Big Lots, and when we’re walking out he insists on going into the liquor store next door. I say okay but let him know he shouldn’t get anything since we don’t really have money to pay our bills. Well after 20 minutes in there he buys a bottle of liquor, not sure what or how much but most of the stuff he was looking at was $30-45.

I get visibly upset and when he asks I tell him that it’s irresponsible for him to have an attitude with me and get mad about not having enough money for bills and food, to where I have to ask family for money, but then he goes and buys alcohol. This causes another fight and he goes off on me about how he’s “tired of me bitching at him” and that I won’t let him have fun, I have a problem with everything he does, etc.

A couple of months ago he had mentioned that I need to be more appreciative of him because not many people would have stayed with me through my cancer treatments and my psychiatric hospital stay for a suicide attempt. I haven’t brought this up to him since he said it but I think about it often.

I know I am definitely not perfect and I know I can get an attitude pretty easily sometimes, but I feel like he doesn’t give me as much credit as I deserve. My mental health makes it extremely difficult for me to regularly keep up with house chores, and I always let him know when I’m having a particularly bad day and not much will get done. At the time he says it’s okay but he always holds it over my head the next time we have a confrontation. I really do love him but I am also so tired of feeling like I’m just a maid that’s shitty at her job. I don’t know how to go about fixing this or if there is any way to even do so.

[tillinghastcorporatemedia]

Maya Doesn't Do Flips

Maya stares at the screen next to her bed, tears streaming from her eyes. Even after a cycle of days, all she can think about is how abrupt it truly was. “I feel like you're so guarded off from me, I wish you would let me in. You know I love you, but it's like dating a stranger sometimes. I think it's best if we see other people.” She could hear it his voice, even though it was all over a message she received upon waking up. What an absolute shit-show of a morning that was. Maya couldn't even cook her Lurgane eggs, instead throwing it in the composting bin and going down the street to get some food before crying behind the building. In an attempt to get her mind off of things, today was going to be the day she got back out to do some training. Instead of waiting for Cerys or Hugo, she made her way over to the southern district, famed for it's angular structures and exposed duct-work. It also had some of the strictest limits on usage of buildings for parkour. In that moment, however, it did not matter. To Maya, her feet centered on concrete with the energy of the city powering her, everything else would disappear before her. She finds a walkway segmented with planters and handrails that are bolted to brick walls. It would take a force of nature to break her concentration while she finally begins to see the path laid out by the architecture before her.

After hiding her bags around the corner as to not arouse suspicion, she begins warming up, running a few laps back and forth and stretching before inspecting every surface, checking structural integrity and spacing. After preliminary checks all seemed good to go, she started running towards the wall, testing her distance before finally backing up all the way down the concrete path, running full force at the wall, jumping up to the handrail before launching with her left foot over the planters, landing on the outer edge for a second before jumping to the next segment of wall. After a few passes and variations, she packs back up and heads back to the es-station.

She gets in the cab and chooses her seat, near the door with a few spaces from the closest passengers. After a few stops she gets up to stand and hold the handrails attached to the top of the cab. Just a few stops before she gets into her district, a rush of foot traffic packs into the cab, making Maya wish she hadn't stood up. Once the cab starts moving, she keeps bumping into people accidentally due to the curves of the track, which garners some side stares from other passengers. She decides to move back to a seat, sitting next to someone wearing what looked like a cropped vest and heavily worn pants. At the next stop, a voice came over the intercom announcing a short delay in the current trip, which would delay Maya's trip home by several fengs. “What a complete load of shit, I gotta get to the east district soon.” Maya is somewhat surprised by the declaration of this passenger to her left. “Did you say east district?” Maya asks, as she's going to the east district as well. “Yeah I'm playing a show over at a club there tonight, my manager went ahead with my gear but if I'm late it's not gonna be good.” “We're not too far off from the first couple of stops. You could grab an es-bike rental or something to get over to the venue.” Maya replies. “Would you be willing to show me where one is? I'm a little lost to this side of town. I can drop you off wherever you need to go if it's pretty close to the venue.” “Sure, I can take you there pretty quickly. What's your name by the way, I never got it.” “My name's Draynor, what's yours?” He asks, “Maya” She replies, “Let's go now before we get stuck.”

Draynor follows Maya up the stairs from the es-station, taking a right at the intersection and ducking down an alleyway to find a little es-bike station. “Okay, where am I taking you?” Draynor asks. “Oh I don't probably don't live near the venue, you can go on without me,” “I owe you, I would have had no idea how to find this place, get on and we'll just take any shortcuts you know.” He says, reaching out and clasping her hands. His fingers felt slightly rough but warm across her palms as she sat on the passenger seat. Maya puts on her helmet and they take off towards Maya's apartments just a few nillets down the road. “Hey, you never said what venue you're playing at, I can give you directions from here.” Maya says before Draynor rides off in a rush. “Oh yeah, good idea. I'm playing at Breezies tonight.” Maya explains how to get to the venue which is surprisingly close to her place. “Hey are you free tonight? I can get you in stage-side to the show if you want?” “No I don't really want to go out tonight.” “Oh, well can I get your screen tag and I can send you tickets to another show if you want.” Maya froze for a minute, realizing Draynor was really trying to talk to her again, and blushed, unsure of what to do. She decided to go ahead and give her screen tag to Draynor, to which he said he'd send her tickets to the next show once his manager had the dates in concrete. After Draynor rides off, Maya realized she was just standing there still blushing, and decided to go inside before she decides this was a bad idea and go to sleep for a few fengs before going out with Hugo and Cerys for the first time in days, knowing she'll have to break the bad news.

[alexa4devilsxo]

She watched him with concern, waiting to see what he was going to do. In all honesty, she hated to see him like this, to be the cause of why he was feeling this way. Would he throw up after she had gone home? Would he stay up worrying, his mind full of thoughts that he didn't want to have, that were utterly unwelcome? She decided right then, she'd stay the night. Give him enough space that he needed but also be close enough to offer him at least a half decent night's sleep. That was the least she could offer him.

No, Camilo was not the one to break promises, thus it made it easier on her. Easier to know that no matter what happened to her, he'd be fine. There were others who he had around, which is exactly why she questioned him about the woman he had his eyes on that night. It's not as if she'd ever want anyone to take Carla's place. Carla had her own special place in her heart, too. But it would be nice to know, that if anything ever happened to her, he would have someone else to lean on. It may not have been that woman, but someone else. Someone who was worthy of him.

"Cami, you know I have nothing else going on." She laughed, rolling her eyes at him. Ruby ate, worked, slept, had a fling here and there - life was easy enough. The only new things that happened were her cases, or her raids, or her kidnappings - whatever there was a need for. "So what? You think you can't enjoy someone because it's a party?" He did more than enjoy the woman, his cheeks right now weren't the only indication of that. "Of course they don't, nor will they ever. My beauty is unmatched. No one would ever compare, I am the purest, most beautiful and divine thing to walk this earth." She flicked her hair back for the extra dramatic effect. "But, unfortunately - you and me would never take a trip down to Alabama, so you might as well try something else for yourself." He didn't want to talk more about it, so she wasn't going to push. Not at this moment, at least. Eventually, she would get the information she needed from him. All with time.

Ruby moved to pour herself another drink, this time a much larger amount, and as Camilo spoke, she nodded her head in agreement, allowing the change of topic. "Yes. Something is going to happen that I feel will change the trajectory of everything." Evidently, that also meant things will change for her, too. It might become more dangerous, might cross into an entirely different territory. Something she was going to have to work much harder with.

"That's what we've always said, no? It's you and me against the world." She reached out, taking his hand in hers and offering a tight squeeze. It was always going to be the two of them at the end of it all, but her priority would always be his life over hers. Camilo had already given her a life, it was her turn to pay it back. "I won't let anything happen to you, either. I just won't." That was her promise to him.

That small chance that Ruby would be in the firing line was enough for Camilo to want to heave his guts up in the bathroom, but he battled his features into one of forced neutrality. They talked about a lot, but there was a lot left unsaid between the two most of the time. Sometimes quiet was their way of communication.

And the promise he made was one he had no intentions of breaking.

"I don't break my promises, Ruby."

Camilo chuckled, the sound low and gravelly as he shook his head. Like some of that tension had finally begun to dissipate, and he was grateful that his shoulders felt looser as he shook his head from side to side. The gala brought back memories of that night, of glamour that now seemed light-years away from the current somber atmosphere that enveloped them. It'd exploded into frenzy and worry. And he had no doubt that this would follow the town for months to come. He took another sip of his drink, the amber liquid providing a fleeting warmth against the cold reality. Those secrets were still coming out and taking people with them.

He just raised a brow. "Oh, so I have to tell you things, but not the other way around?" He was already laughing, that slashing grin finding its way to his face as his shoulders shook. True laughter. Rarely seen these days, but there it was. "The woman at the gala?" Camilo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Was just a woman I was introduced to, Rubz. You know how those events are, a sea of faces, gotta try to remember them all. Besides, none of them hold a candle to you. The only girl that matters, ain't that right?" But the blush of his cheeks told enough that the very woman had been on his mind since. Penelope was...potentially the most beautiful woman he'd seen in a time.

He leaned back in his chair, studying Ruby for a moment.

"Enough about that. We got bigger fish to fry," Camilo said, his tone shifting to a more serious note. Wanted to get away from this conversation in case it drew them back to Carla. And there was only so much he could think of her before he broke down. He didn't need that, not right now. "This town is a fuckin' powder keg, and it's not just about our secrets. There's something brewing, and I don't like it." He'd said it a lot because he truly believed it.

"Whatever happens, we face it together," Camilo declared, his gaze unwavering. "That's how I'll keep my promise. I won't let anything happen to you, Rubz. Not on my watch."

In each other, they found a refuge—a sanctuary amidst the chaos that threatened to consume them. To consume him.