#CUT TO ME SOBBING WHILE THE COVER OF NEVER FADE AWAY FROM THE CREDITS PLAYS

[thefreshprinceofjunes]

GODDDDD I TOLD MYSELF I WAS GONNA AVOID CP77 ENTRIES ON TVTROPES UNTIL I CAN PLAY PHANTOM LIBERTY (WHICH I CANT RLY DO UNTIL I GET A NEW COMPUTER) BUT I WENT AND REREAD SOME STUFF I WROTE ANYWAY AND OH BOY THE JOHNNYV FEELINGS ARE COMING BACK HARD

[tenkoscumslut]

Hawks x reader (angst)

(credit to _yorixxxx on tiktok they inspired this)

Your mind was in its own universe, walking through a rich meadow, the smell of blue gold filling up your senses, it was almost time to go home, almost.  You almost leapt out of your chair when the clock hit 5, you little fantasy vanished, forgotten, like you.  

You couldn’t help but smile as you walked home, it was months after the incident, months.  Kiego had promised to never do it again, promised and promised and promised, but all of them were lies, though you were to blind to see it.  The familiar streets were your comfort area, you loved your life, you loved your boyfriend, his affection, your apartment, your job, everything.

As you flirted with the keys, trying to find the right one, you managed to find it.  It opened up his apartment, tonight was date night, he always did the sweetest things, he would take you out on late night flights, kiss your forehead and apologize for that one night.  His words were meaningless, but they filled you with happiness.

Before you were drowning, you head was submerged underwater and you could swim to the surface.  You were exhausted, even though it was right there, it was so close, it was in your grasp, you could never reach it.  Thats when Hawks came, he made you go head over heels for him, he was your savior, he was the one who saved you.  He picked you up, letting you take deep breaths of the fresh air, and you loved it.  You were addicted to it.

So when you opened the door, and saw another pair of shoes, you didn’t mind, you didn’t even think about any bad outcomes of this.  You quietly closed the door and set your shoes next to his, assuming he had a coworker over.  You walked up the steps into the living room, and there was Hawks with his “coworker”.

You couldn’t move, they were to loud to notice you, her loud moans, his grunts of pleasure, you could barely believe what you saw.  No, Hawks would never cheat on you, you knew Hawks, or did you.  You knew the hero, the man who saved others, the man who never broke someones heart.  But did you really know Kiego, did you know how he broke hearts, how he was a lying cheating bastard who was so toxic he couldn’t recognize your feelings.

“Hawks?”, you whimpered softly, not even knowing how to react to the lewd scene in front of you.  They both stopped, the girl, panting, a huge blush on her face turned to Hawks, “Hawks, who’s this?”, she asked trying to catch her breath.  Kiego stuttered, “J-just an old friend babe, Y/N, can you leave?’, he asked with...what was it? Irritation? Annoyance? Anger?.  

“Old friend?”, you repeated, “Were dating Hawks!”, you exclaimed, tears beginning to form, the girl clambered off of him, quickly putting on her clothes, “What the fuck do they mean Kiego?! You said you weren’t with anyone!”, she shouted.  “Y/N is lying, I don’t know them!”, he shouted, pulling up his boxers.

“You know what?! Get out! Both of you!”, you shouted over them, Kiego looked at you, shock in his eyes, the girl walked past you, she looked just as broken as you, “I’m sorry”, she whispered and quickly left the scene.  You stared at the ground, your fists were placed at your sides, Kiego walked up to you.  That voice, it made you fill up with joy, but know it felt so wrong to hear him.  “Babybird, listen to me, she didn’t mean anything”, he said.  Empty.  His words were fucking empty.

You wanted to screech, kill him, you wanted to wreck him, make him feel what you were going through.  “I already said get out Kiego” you managed to say, not bothering to speak in hopes of your voice not cracking up.  You looked up at him, those eyes, so beautiful, so ethereal.  You always thought he would only look at you like that, with so much love and passion, but behind it was emptiness.  He fucking used you.

To him you were a doll to be played with, a fucking sex toy.  You gritted your teeth when he didn’t move, instead tried to embrasse you in a hug, “Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted, the tears finally spilling out while you kicked him, punched him, scratched him.  He didn’t let go, he couldn’t, Kiego was to selfish, he wanted you, he wanted a side chick, he wanted to fuck anyone he could but he couldn’t have you leave his side.

You were his other half, his soulmate, he truly loved you, yet he continued to hurt you, over and over and over and over.  It hurt him, sometimes he wouldn’t realize he was kissing someone else, he would try and imagine they were you, that it was your soft lips caressing his own.  That is was your walls clamping down on him, and it was your moans every time he hit their sweet spot.  Seeing you, without that smile, without that look like he was your everything made him break.

He fucking hurt you.  He did that.  “Get out Kiego!”, that was the last shout, he let go, knowing you couldn’t be with him anymore, his heart was strangled as he slowly walked over to the entrance, he’d let you stay at his apartment until you could leave.  He would give you the space he needed.  With one last look of sorrow, he left.

~~~

As the months went by, you had found a new job, away from Kiego, a knew boyfriend, a home, a new life.  It was perfect, Dabi was perfect, all that time thinking Kiego had saved you, all those times you felt like he was your savior was lies.  He blinded you, choked you, drugged you into thinking you were happy, but Dabi was your real savior.  He opened your eyes, showed you the world, real affection and loyalty, trust, everything you could possibly imagine.

Though Dabi did have his flaws, like almost burning the kitchen down when his ramen didn’t turn out perfect, he was amazing, and truly loved you.  Dabi would never go behind your back, and you would never go behind his. Ever.  

As for Kiego, he was a wreck, bringing home girls almost everyday.  They weren’t the same, they never were, you were truly one of a kind.  He was sobbing, he was forgetting your touch, your lips, you voice, it was all fading away.  He was desperately trying to salvage what was left of you, he had pictures of you in his bedroom, he cooked your favorite foods, he only dated people who looked like you but it was never enough.

Every night, their moans never riled him up, their lips wrapped around him never was the same, they never tasted as good as you, their kissed weren’t as sweet or filled with love.  Their eyes never held the same fire as yours, never the same passion.  Your sweet smell was slowly fading away to, one of the only things he had left.  

he had even bought the same perfume you would wear just to scent things and try to keep it in pristine condition.  As for the girl he was dating behind your back, seeing her walk into his office everyday made him gag, she couldn’t even compete against you.  

After months of not being able to hear your voice, enough was enough, he opened up your contact, there were tons of messages from you, left on read from when he was cheating on you and he didn’t bother to reply.  His fingers manuevered over the keyboard.

He didn’t know how to start this off, would he say sorry? Hi? How are you?, he then just settled on Hey, nothing really complex or to formal.  His heart was beating faster than ever, he set himself down at his counter, his wings flapping lightly at the prospect of you replying.

You were making dinner, just some rice and fish since you didn’t feel like making something to extravagant.  Your phone dinged next to Dabi who was watching a show, he lifted up your phone, narrowing his eyes at the unknown number.

He stood up and walked over to you, unlocking your phone to look at the message, “Hey, doll, who’s this?”, he asked, staring at the conversation before you found out Hawks was a cheating bastard.  You had deleted his contact, thinking you also blocked him.  You grabbed your phone and looked at the message, trying to remember who it was.  “i do-”, you cut yourself off when you saw the previous text messages.

“It’s my ex, you don’t need to worry about him”, you said, turning your phone off and kissing Dabi softly.  He hummed happily, his hands snacking around your waist and massaging your inner thighs.  You turned off the stove and fully turned around to kiss him, things quickly escalated, your bra was off and your panties were thrown somewhere.

Dabi was on his knees, your legs on his shoulders while he devoured you, you tugged at the roots of his hair, whining and moaning for him, crying out with he hit the perfect place.  Your orgasm was quickly building up, and then your phone rang.  Dabi pulled away from your lower lips, a scowl on his face while he glared at your phone for ruining the mood.

You picked it up, scowling when you saw it was Hawks, you did not want to talk to him, “Who is it?”, Dabi asked, tracing circles into your thighs, “my ex”, you grumbled, your thumb was about to press decline but Dabi stopped you,  “Answer it babe”, he said, you whined softly, “Why?”.  He smirked, “Do it baby, for daddy~”, he said, you pouted and answered the phone and brought it up to your ear.

Hawks wings were flapping widley when you picked up, his heart was racing, he wanted so savor your voice, memorise it, imprint it in his brain so when he manages to win you back its like you never broke up.  Like he never cheated.  Like he really was your savior.

Dabi leaned back down, and started to kiss your lower lips, his tongue traveling over your clit.  You held back a moan and managed to greet your ex, “Hello Kiego”, you said, you were greeted with a happy Hello.  Hearing his voice made sadness seep into your heart, but you were through with him, you were done, you had Dabi.  

“Why are you calling me”, you asked, your hand slithering down to pull at Dabis hair, you knew being this close to your orgasm, plus the thrill of being on the phone with Hawks was only going to end in something bad.  Dabis skilled tongue pushed into your sopping wet hole.  Your hand quickly covered your mouth, staffing another moan.

“I-I guess I just missed you...”, Hawks mumbled from the other end, “I was a fucking dick to you, I cheated on you twice and thats not right”.  Your orgasm was quickly building up again, Dabi removed his tongue and easily pushed in 2 digits, his mouth started working on your clit.  Your thighs clamped down on his head, trying to make this oh so more pleasurable.

“I was wondering you know...if we could start talking again?”, he asked, Dabi then hit the special spot he knew by memory, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.  A huge blush adorned to your face, “U-Um a-are you busy right now? C-cuz I can t-talk later?”, he suggested.  “N-no, I want to finish this conversation”, you mumbled, “I just ran into the corner of my dresser”, you lied.  Dabi was pinching at your thigh, you knew he didn’t want you to hang up.

Hawks was leaning back into the chair, a generous amount of lube coated his hand, he gripped at the base of his dick, squeezing softly, trying to replicate your walls.  He bit his lip, god just you alone had him painfully hard, and the moan that came out of the other end of the phone was the cherry on top.  His thumb ran over his sensitive head, over his sensitive slit, and rubbed back and forth.  At this rate Hawks could cum any second.

“Could we maybe meet up at the building I use to fly us to?”, he asked.  You bit your lip, another moan rising up, your release was so fucking close, you could feel it.  Your hand gripped at his wrist, not wanting him to pull away and take your sweet release with it.  “S-sure”, you were in a daze, Dabis wrist snapped forward, roughly hitting your sweet spot.  Your eyes rolled back, your body spasming and your walls fluttering around his digits.  Your sweet juices leaked out of your spasming hole.  Dabi removed his fingers and quickly started to lap at the juices.

You thought you hung up, your thumb missed and instead you put him on speaker, you started to moan and cry out, it was turning into to much, “Y/N..?”, you heard hawks through the speaker. “FUCK!”, you shouted, quickly hanging up before you could reply.  Dabi was laughing, and your face was flared with embarrassment.  He got up from his kneeling position and helped you off the counter.

Your knees were wobbly underneath you, Dabi carried you to the bed and finished what he started.

The mess on Hawks chest, there were no words to describe it.  He had cummed harder than he has ever cummed before, the thick white liquid shot out in thick salty white ropes.  His post orgasm soon kicked in, a hollow feeling burned in his chest.  He wished it was you instead of them, he wished he payed attention to you.

He wished he brought you around to parties since he knew how much you loved to dance, he wished he brought you flowers, and held your hand, he should’ve given you all his hours when he had the chance.  But know your dancing, but your dancing with another man.

And although it hurts, he’d be the first to say he was wrong, but he hoes he buys you flowers, and holds your hand, take you to every party because he remembers how much you love to dance.

[starlost-andfound]

at the divide // d.s (seasons change au)

Warning: The events in this au are an addition to the timeline of Seasons Change by @chilling-seavey (also pic credits to her <3). To avoid spoilers, please go read that amazing masterpiece first (and check out her other writing)

Inspired by If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves

Summary: Daniel searches for Marigold’s presence in a time he misses her the most.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief, alcohol consumption, kind of unedited

Word Count: Approximately 3K

A/N: If you want to really feel this one, listen to If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves and Marigold and Daniel’s song Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

I'll meet you at the divide

To break the spell

It was too good to be true, like a fantasy with a tragic twist, a hope for a sunny day clouded by storms. Daniel carried a heavy heart yet he felt empty. His heart beat in his chest, pumping life into his veins but he loomed around in silence. He was a ghost haunted by the walls of his own home. The house was draped in an eerie quiet, so quiet Daniel could hear the clock ticking in his bedroom from downstairs. He set aside his freshly washed plate in the drying rack and dumped his emptied beer bottle in the bin. When Lennox went to school, lunches were painfully quiet. Daniel often found himself in front of the TV, eating his lunch with the background noise of any program playing on the screen.

With a sigh he rested his hands against the counter, leaning forward. His eyes drifted to the living room, where a line of photo frames stood on the mantle above the fireplace. She was everywhere. Daniel didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. The clock ticked rhythmically, Daniel couldn't count the hours. His fingers traced the frames on the mantle. She was always smiling, even when it hurt the most. He never understood how. How could she hold all the rays of the sun while her star collapsed? He was the moon without a sun sharing its light, a dark unlit sky with lonely stars.

Stars. Lennox. Daniel smiled shakily, his vision blurring as he stood in front of the last photo on the fireplace. Even as the faces and colours blended together with his tears, he could still remember the image clearly. Lennox’s first hockey match. Lennox was squashed between Daniel and Marigold, wearing his hockey gear. They all held matching smiles on their faces. She was everywhere and maybe that’s what made it so hard to let go, suffocating when her presence was embedded in the air around him.

Daniel grabbed himself a beer and sat down on the couch, picking up a familiar belonging: a scrapbook Marigold had crafted for them, celebrating their early dating anniversaries. The book’s cover was brightly decorated with stars and stickers. He sat down, tracing his fingers over the scribbled text in her handwriting. He flipped through the pages, taking his time to trace the stuck-on tickets and read the small love letters Marigold had delicately weaved in her writing.

A point where two worlds collide

Yeah, we'll rebel

His mind felt dizzy with the slight tinge of alcohol. All the memories printed into the scrapbook seemed like distant conversations and hazy images. He turned the page over, his eyes falling to a scribbled date in the middle and countless doodles and stickers in the background. His heart dropped as his mind took him back to one of the most special nights in his life.His mind and heart pulled him down like an anchor into the sea, dragging him deeper until there wasn’t enough light left to see.  

Daniel wiped the stream of tears off his face, closing the book. He sunk down farther into the couch, holding his head as he cried. He exhaled shakily, feeling a light feather touch trailed up his shoulder. Daniel tensed as he heard a whisper. The voice was smooth like a calming wind, familiar like the arms of a lover.

“Why so many tears, my sweet?”

He opened his eyes and from the blurry mist in his eyes he saw the form of the woman who carried his heart.

“Sunshine,” he breathed. Daniel threw his arms around her in an instant. He cried, clinging on to her tighter as sobs shook his body.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Marigold held him close, rubbing soothing circles over his back. She kissed his head as he cried. She tried to pull back slightly but Daniel only held her closer.

“How- you-you’re here-I don’t know what to do, Marigold,” he whimpered. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Why would you say that, hmm?” she pulled back and cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, my sweet. I am so proud of you.”

Daniel shook his head from side to side. He gripped her shirt and rested his head against her chest. His lips trembled, “I just want you back.”

Marigold sighed quietly, “You know that’s not possible.”

“Please don’t go. ”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Until we break through

“I won’t leave just yet,” she stroked his hair gently.

Daniel sniffled, and looked up. He reached his hand up, brushing his hand along her jaw and then cupping her cheek, “You are very real.”

Marigold laughed softly, “Yes, I am here.”

“Do you-” Daniel held her hand. “Does it hurt anymore?”

Marigold smiled, “Not anymore, no.”

Daniel smiled shakily, feeling the tears build up again at the answer he wished he had heard many months ago. He sat up and his hands reached up to caress her cheek. She had this golden glow that reminded Daniel of when she was carrying Lennox. “You’re so beautiful.”

Marigold smiled.

Daniel pressed his forehead against hers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my sweet.”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips on hers. Her soft lips and skin disappeared under his touch, fading into the air. Daniel fell forward on the couch, his hands gripping the fabric. He snapped his head around in search of her, letting out a strangled cry as he was met with the walls of his living room.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

Daniel was falling into a routine and he was growing to hate it. With no energy by noon, he often landed on a couch, a drink in his hand and the multiple CD’s of home videos by his side. He never drank too much before Lennox came home. Lennox was the only light which filled the gaping hole in his chest but the sharp taste of the beer numbed his mind. It calmed the storm of emotions he carried inside, just for a few moments and for him that was enough. Daniel entered the living room with a beer in his hand, heading to the CD’s by the television. The text on the CD covers were fading where he held them, some more than others, exposing the amount of times he watched them.

I feel my loss every night

Not long to wait

He slumped back down on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand as the video loaded. A crackle echoed over the speaker before a soft voice spoke.

And if I do this thing right

I dream of our escape

“Lennox, say hi,” Marigold whispered behind the camera.

She zoomed in on a baby Lennox, waddling around the flowers in the garden in his small yellow boots. He wore one of Marigold’s old sweaters, far too small for her but slightly too large for the little boy. The sleeves and hem of the sweater were rolled up, hugging his body. Spud turned to the camera and grinned, his two little teeth sticking out. He waved his arm at the camera and turned back to the flowers decorating their garden.

He pointed at the bunch of hydrangeas and tugged at his sweater, “Blue. Like mine.”

Marigold gasped, “Yes, well done my shining star!”

Spud giggled and the camera turned just as Daniel’s car rolled into the driveway.

“Daddy’s here!‘ Marigold captured Daniel stepping out of the truck with a smile. Lennox squealed, running to Daniel with his hands up. “Dada!”

Daniel scooped him up into his arms, bouncing him gently, “Hi Spud, I missed you!”

Marigold shuffled closer to Daniel, the camera lens covered as they shared a quick kiss, “Hi my sweet.”

“Hey sunshine.”

The camera flipped, fitting all three of them into the frame. Lennox grabbed the camera in his hands and pressed the lens close to his face.

“Oh, careful Spud.”

The curious child attempted to hold the camera out like his mother, pointing at the flowers, “Blue!” The garden twisted into a spiral as the camera tumbled out of his hands and the video cut off.

Daniel sniffled quietly and took a gulp of his beer. The next video began to roll. He heard the familiar sound of her footsteps down the stairs. The camera trailed the floor until it lifted up outside the house, pointing at Daniel.

“Look how handsome my baby daddy is.”

Daniel glanced up at the camera with a bashful smile. Marigold pulled him up by his arm so he could be seen better and she set her hand against his chest, giving him a pat.

“I’m going to have to keep close eyes on you at Sunday brunch. All the ladies are gonna want a piece of this.”

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel chuckled shyly.

“And my other handsome man!” Marigold added, shuffling around the open door to get a good shot of the baby in the car seat. “Gonna be fighting the ladies off you too, my beautiful boy.”

Lennox blinked up at her but her same smile could be seen forming behind his pacifier that bumped excitedly against his little nose. Marigold turned the camera around as she leaned in with Daniel, capturing both of them together and Daniel just smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She looked up at him lovingly, “Happy first Father’s Day, my sweet.”

“Thank you.” Daniel smiled, meeting her halfway for a kiss. “And thank you for making me a father.”

They shared a few more kisses and ‘I love you’s until Lennox let out a small cry.

“Oh my.” Marigold said, addressing the camera again as Daniel left the frame to care for Lennox, “Well, when Lennox says it’s time to go, it’s time to go! We have church to get to and a bunch to show off at.”

When she was a few steps away, the camera caught her admiring her husband over her shoulder as he finished buckling in the baby.

She looked back to the camera and spoke gently with her wide grin spread all over her soft face, “Lennox Blake, if you’re watching this some time in the future when you’re grown up and annoyed by your parents – just know that you have the best daddy in the whole stinking world. I picked him out myself for you so that’s how you know he’s good.”

The camera clicked softly and a another video played.

The screen zoomed in on Daniel and Lennox across the grass. Lennox was tucked up on his shoulder and Daniel was pointing out little flowers and the buds on the trees as they walked. He finally looked over and caught Marigold filming, a shy smile taking over his face and he rested his head against his son’s tiny body.

And we run

And we run

Daniel was a mess, his stray tears turning into quiet sobs. He turned off the TV, the bright screen of colours and memories turning into a reflection of his pain. He chugged down the rest of his second beer and dragged himself off the couch. The air felt stuffy, like he couldn’t breathe properly. He swayed as he stumbled to the garden door, nearly falling down the steps. A choked sob left his lips and he covered his mouth. He stormed past the bushes of overgrown, wilting flowers.

And we run

Until we break through

Daniel stumbled to the back of the garden, grabbing the support of the garden swing. The tears fell down his face , smudging the darkening colours of the flowers around him. He slid down to the grass, leaning his head back. Daniel dug his fists into the ground, tugging out strands of grass with a yell. The pain in his chest burned into tears and he closed his eyes, drowning himself in his loss. His head felt heavy with what remained of the alcohol in the system and his tears. A soft breeze rustled gently.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

A soft hand brushed his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“My sweet.”

Daniel shook his head, “No, go away.”

“Daniel, my sweet. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath as he saw her again. “Mari.”

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Marigold reached out her hands to pull him up to his feet. She dusted off his shoulders and smiled. “There. Much better. Come on.”

Daniel sniffled, his eyes focused on Marigold in some state of confusion and surprise. Her arm was wrapped around Daniel’s as she guided him inside the house. He lifted his finger to touch her cheek. Marigold giggled softly, “What are you doing?”

“Where are we going?” his voice cracked.

“I haven’t seen Apollo and Venus in so long,” Marigold smiled, looking up at Daniel. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Daniel moved at a slow pace, trotting beside Marigold on her horse. Marigold looked around at the green fields ahead of them, a glow in her eyes. He watched how her hair moved in the wind, her blonde curls flowing. The sun reflected on her face, and Daniel smiled. Her face was full of colour, no longer pale, no longer lifeless. For once she seemed at ease and Daniel had forgotten what that felt like.

Marigold slowed down to a stop and for the first time Daniel turned his head away from her. He gasped softly, instantly recognizing their surroundings, their spot. He followed her movements as she climbed off her horse and sat down at the spot where he would normally park the truck. Marigold shifted closer to Daniel, if it was even possible, and placed her head on his shoulder.

Daniel held her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Marigold sighed, “No matter how many times we come here, the view still takes my breath away. It’s beautiful.”

Daniel hummed in agreement but his focus seemed to lie on staying as close to her as possible.

“You haven’t been singing much lately, my sweet,” she remarked.

“I know,” Daniel mumbled. His voice trembled and he took a moment to breathe. “It’s hard.”

Marigold smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “Could you sing something for me?”

Daniel nodded. His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper. “A h-heart on the run.” He gulped. His eyes connected with hers and he sighed shakily. “Keeps a hand on the gun. You can’t trust anyone. I was so su-s”

Daniel’s head bowed down and he wiped his eyes, “I-I’m so-sorry-”

Marigold shook her head, cupping his cheeks. She wiped his tears away and smiled softly. “I was so sure. What I needed was more, tried to shoot out the sun,” she sang.

Daniel lifted his eyes to hers, his frown breaking into a shaky smile. “The days when we raged, we flew off the page. Such damage was done,” he joined in unison.

Marigold stood up on her feet, reaching out her hand. Daniel stood up, his hand in hers as she pulled him closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and Daniel held her waist, sucking in his breath. “But I made it through, 'cause somebody knew I was meant for someone.”

They swayed gently from side to side. Daniel cried quietly, pulling her closer until there was barely space between them, his forehead against hers. They shared the kisses that had been stolen from them, singing the unfinished lyrics of their song with their lips just a touch apart. A setting sun cast a dreamy light over the couple. Daniel’s singing was consumed by his tears and he buried his head in between her neck and shoulder. He held her tighter, his tears staining her beautiful dress.  

“So cover me up and know you're enough.” Marigold rubbed her hands soothingly over his back and kissed his shoulder. “To use me for good.”

Marigold moved her hands to his chest. Daniel didn’t move, wanting to be in her arms. “My sweet, it’s getting dark. We should get home.”

Daniel pulled away reluctantly, holding her hand as they walked back to Apollo and Venus. Marigold waited by his side as he climbed his horse. She placed her hand on his knee and they leaned closer, their lips meeting each other halfway. Daniel nearly wished he couldn’t breathe when he pulled away for a breath. Marigold pecked his lips again before climbing her horse.

She travelled forward, Daniel following behind. Marigold sped up, urging her horse to gallop faster. Daniel frowned and tried to catch up with her.

“Sunshine,” he was an arm’s reach away.

“My sweet,” Marigold turned back to him with a smile, but it wasn’t the same. There was some underlying loss in her smile and it made Daniel’s heart drop to his stomach. “It’s time to go.”

“Sunshin-” he hurried Venus to run faster. “Sunshine! Marigold, wait!”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Daniel struggled, panting. The wind blew harshly in his face as Marigold moved faster, turning into a blur. Marigold faded farther and farther away until she disappeared. He cried out for her, his voice dying out into violent sobs. “Mari-stop!”.

Venus turned to mist from beneath him and Daniel fell to his knees. He pulled himself up, ignoring the ache in his legs and he broke into a sprint.

He felt himself fade the faster he ran, hearing a voice call out for him, but it wasn’t hers. The distance he covered never seemed enough as the fields ran endlessly in front of him. His legs gave out under him and he fell, head first into the grass.

Until we break through

Daniel’s eyes opened and he turned over with a groan, feeling someone shake his shoulder. “Dad, dad!”

He sat up in a sudden movement, startling Lennox. Daniel pulled himself to his feet, marching past Lennox to the stables.

“Dad, what happened? Where are you going?” Lennox followed him, his school bag bouncing on his bag as he kept up with his father. Daniel entered the stables, his shoulders falling as he found the horses well kept in their pens.  

“Dad?”  Lennox walked up to his side and held his arm, looking up at a distraught Daniel. He looked down at Lennox and brushed his hand over his head. Daniel pulled Lennox close, hugging him tight. Lennox welcomed the hug, unknowing of the inner turmoil in Daniel’s heart. He could still feel her in their own shining star, little remnants of sunshine and beautiful blooming flowers.

“Let’s go inside, Spud,” he whispered.

Lennox pulled away with a smile and jogged back into the house. Daniel watched him go before he turned back to the stable. He looked past the open entryway where the green fields stretched out to the horizon, meeting the sky.

And we run

And we run

And we run

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

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee​ @bessonbae @hiya-its-amber​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​

[skiesofthesketchy]

132. Don’t cry, baby, they’re not worth your tears. + 15. Give me your hand. + 35. I’m going to kiss you now. with jj <3

Thank you for your request bub :)

This shit is so fluffy I threw up four times writing it. Read at your own risk.

Masterlist

15. Give me your hand.

35. I’m going to kiss you now.

132. Don’t cry, baby. They’re not worth your tears.

gif credit @toesure

JJ didn’t know what to expect, but he knew it had to be pretty bad when he saw that he had six missed calls. When he had finally answered the seventh phone call from Kiara, she said that something was wrong and that you wouldn’t talk to any of them. She said that you needed him. That was all it took for JJ to drop everything and rush over. Kie and John B. had met him at the door when he arrived at the chateau and told him you were out on the dock. With worry weighing down his heart, he walked across the yard and saw your silhouette perched on the dock, facing the fading sunset. 

“Y/N?” JJ asked cautiously, and when you turned to him, he saw the tears streaming down your face, your bottom lip trembling. “Oh, baby,” he softened, sitting down next to you after setting down the lantern that he brought over. “Come here.” He leaned against the post, one leg dangling over the edge of the dock and he pulled you in between his legs. You sunk into him as he wrapped his arms around you, your face pressed into his chest and the tears soaking into his shirt. It killed him to see you this way. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but happiness. He needed to know why you were so upset so that he could fix it, but he stayed quiet to let you have a moment to cry.

You hated that you were crying. You felt pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. Your own insecurity got the best of you, and you were hurting more than you were willing to admit. After crying for a while into your best friend, you sat up and sniffled, doing your best to wipe the tears off of your face. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked. 

You inhaled a shaky breath, willing yourself to calm down. “It’s Kelce.” 

JJ’s features immediately hardened, his mind already coming up with a hundred different ways to kill the dickhead. “What did he fucking do?” 

“No, JJ, it’s not--” you sighed, looking down at your feet dangling over the water. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He just doesn’t want me.”

JJ’s eyebrows shot up, and he was heartbroken by the sadness lacing your tone. He couldn’t imagine how anyone wouldn’t want you. To him, you were everything he could ever want and more. 

“I’m just--” you laughed to cover up the sob threatening to claw it’s way up your throat. “What’s wrong with me? Why am I never enough?” It’s not like you were in love with Kelce, you had only been dating for three weeks, but you really hoped he would be the break in your lonely pattern. None of your relationships have ever lasted long, and no matter why they ended, they ended. You want to know why you can’t seem to keep a guy around long enough to really get to know you. You want to know why you’re not pretty enough, smart enough, or interesting enough for someone to want to be with you. This wasn’t something you normally let yourself dwell on, but today it just felt like too much. That’s why you were crying to your best friend, just wanting him to make everything better.

JJ was absolutely crushed by your words. They made him want to cry and fucking hit something at the same time. You should never, ever feel this way about yourself. “None of those guys have any idea what they’re missing out on,” JJ said. You turned to face away from him when you felt your throat constrict from the cries about to pour out. He scooted closer and quickly grabbed your chin so that you were looking at him, his other arm wrapping around your frame. “Don’t cry, baby. They’re not worth the tears.” You smiled sadly at him, pressing your face into his palm, then he used his thumb to wipe away the remainder of sadness. 

He wished he could tell you just how much he cared about you, how much happiness you deserve, and that he could be the one to give it to you, but his words were failing him. Instead of speaking, he brought his arm over your shoulder and you both gazed out at the water, the sun finally falling under the horizon, leaving you in the hues of dusk. 

“I know it’s stupid--” you started, and JJ cut you off.

“It’s not stupid.” 

Your lips turned up again, only slightly. “As stupid as it sounds, I just wanna have someone to kiss me under the stars. Someone to tell me I look pretty even when I don’t feel beautiful. Someone that will go dancing with me...” You looked over at JJ, and your cheeks burned. He was never good with the emotional stuff, and you were embarrassed that you just unloaded all of that sappy shit on him. He was good at being there for you though, making you feel completely understood, incredibly loved. 

“Dancing?” he smirked and nudged your side. “I didn’t know you liked to dance.” He was making you feel less embarrassed, and you smiled.

“Well, I don’t know. I just wanna slow dance with someone who cares about me, ya know? I want all that dumb, romantic bullshit.” You slumped your shoulders and JJ’s eyes landed on you. He was never good with words. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched up a song on his playlist, the playlist that contains all the music you’ve shown him, the playlist named after you. He stood up and held out his hand. You looked up at him confused. 

“Give me your hand.” You followed his order even though you were still confused. He placed your arms around his neck, giving you a cheeky smile as he pushed play on the song he chose. His arms then wrapped around your waist, sliding the cell phone into your back pocket in the process. 

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face. “Really, JJ?” You rolled your eyes.

“Really, babe.” You shook your head, a laugh on the tip of your tongue. “Now be quiet and let me enjoy slow dancing with a beautiful girl, alright?” You kept your lips shut tight, and JJ beamed at the sight of your shy smile.

You both swayed for a while, your locked gazes somewhat feeling intimate. You appreciated JJ more than he knew. When the chorus of the song hit, JJ gave you a toothy grin as he unwrapped your arms from his neck, grabbing your hand to twirl you around. You giggled as he held onto your hips from behind, moving the pair of you to a beat that was much too fast for the song that was playing. He spun you back around, grabbing your arms to flail them in different directions. He was being a dork.

You rolled your eyes, but were bubbling with laughter as he pulled you against him again by your hips. “There’s that gorgeous smile.” 

You wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him tightly, your head falling in the crook of his neck. He was always able to pull a smile out of you, and you loved him for it. “Thanks for always being there for me,” you said softly. “You always make me feel better.”

His hand rested on the back of your head, petting your hair soothingly. He was happy you were feeling better, but he still felt the sadness filling his chest. He needed to tell you how he felt. He needed you to know that you are loved, and that you’re loved by him. “Baby,” he spoke up, bringing his hands to hold onto your upper arms, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze. “Nothing is wrong with you. You will always be enough.” 

You felt your chest tighten. You wanted to believe him, but it was hard. You looked down, but JJ’s fingers were quick to lift your chin back up. “Y/N, you’re fucking incredible, and I’m not gonna sit here and allow you to feel any less than that.” 

“Thank you, J.” You peered into his stormy blue eyes, finding the waves of emotion in them even though it was dark, the only light coming from the dim lantern. Your lips parted, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. He was looking at you like he was in love, and you were stunned. 

“You deserve the whole damn world,” he continued, still searching for the words. “You deserve to be so fucking happy, and I promise you, you will be.” You were lost in his words, lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You only now realized that you two had stopped swaying, just standing there holding onto each other. “I can make you happy.” 

JJ felt a surge of adrenaline hit him as he peered down at your pretty face. He inhaled deeply. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He looked down at your lips while you did the same, both of you seeming to hold your breaths.

“Okay.” 

He pulled you forward by the back of your neck and smashed his lips to yours. You found yourself sighing into the kiss. It was warm, comforting, and it took the breath right out of your lungs. It started off slow as you two eased into it, almost like you were testing the waters, but it quickly became more needy, JJ pulling you into him completely and giving you all the passion that he had. You kissed him back just as fiercely, as if you had been waiting for this moment forever. He didn’t need the words, he could show you how much he loved you.

You pulled away with a smile, looking at him with all the love in your heart. “No, baby. I need a lil’ bit more,” he mumbled before crashing his lips back to yours. You giggled against his lips, but easily gave in, and you guys were kissing under the stars. 

***

obx tags: @sportygal55 @jazbarnes05 @rafej-cambanks @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @little-miss-rebel3 @shreckluver7@queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles 

jj tags:  @kaylinfayezink  @unfortunatekiwitrash  @shy-1234 @bijleegiregi @cheshirecat107  @yami5525 @folkloverr @dracoswhore007

[secretficblog]

In another life - Chapter 4 - Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary:  Long before there were new Jedi, before the fight between the Resistance and the First Order came to an end, there was just a young man, skilled in flying anything he could get his hands on, with the urge to be something greater. Then there was you. You broke him

Rating: M for smut in later chapters

Now on ao3, come say hi if you want to!

Warnings: both of them are idiots, I feel like I only write idiots with zero communication skills, you’ll see; now with more angst; you dumped him;

no use of y/n

Word count: 1640

first chapter here ; second here ; third here

also can we just appreciate gif-makers on tumblr real quick? I could never.

Poe Dameron woke up to a cold bed with pain shooting through his right side. He lifted his left hand, pressing his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose and blinked slowly, adjusting his eyes to the bright light that shone onto your shared bed. He had expected you to be there. Not that he had almost died or anything but he had gotten seriously hurt and with the way you usually fussed over him, he would have bet good credits on the fact that your hovering face was the first thing he would see this morning. Smiling softly, he lifted his hand to the chain dangling around his neck and played around with the ring his mother had left him.

He was going to ask you soon, he had found this little hidden spot outside of town that looked beautiful in the soft evening sun. Not as beautiful as you would look of course, but it was a close second. He would take you there after a nice dinner at this little hole in the wall spot you loved to go to if the two of you had a job well done to celebrate. He would have to wait for that because you would get suspicious right away if he tried to take you for no reason. He could wait a little longer though, if that meant spending the rest of his days by your side.

Poe had been thinking about this for a while now, settling down with you somewhere safer. The nagging urge to do something greater, to help end this war and have his life mean something again never quite left him but your presence stilled it. He often thought about his mother and father these days, marveling about the things they had achieved and the sacrifices they had made for so many lives they didn’t even know personally in a Galaxy that was in dire need of help. He looked up to their achievements but above everything else, he looked up to their unconditional love for each other.

When Lieutenant Shara Bey and Seargent Kes Dameron came home from missions it was common knowledge that their debriefings were not to be held immediately. Instead they would rush to their quarters and envelop Poe in a big hug, sharing a kiss over his head and then they would spend at least and hour with him, sitting with their hands intertwined and him between them. Shara would tell him about the maneuvers she had flown that day, always keeping the horrors of the battles away from him in the meantime. When it was really urgent for them to go to the debriefings they would still make sure to at least pop into the room and let Poe know they were both back and safe. Poe also remembered how his father was never the same after Shara had died. Of course Poe missed his mother dearly, but it was as if a part of Kes had left with her that faithful day. He thought to himself that if he could form this sort of unbreakable bond with someone, not just anyone, the rest would follow along. Poe was certain he had found his someone in you. He leaned back into the softness of the pillows you had picked out on the market of Kijimi and turned his head towards your side of the bed, breathing in your smell and letting his eyes flutter shut. Yes, he thought to himself, being by your side was the right choice. He was where he was meant to be and so he drifted off again into a dreamless sleep.

The next time Poe Dameron woke up he was covered in cold sweat. A feeling of dread still lingered as he sat up abruptly in your bed. He dragged one shaking hand through his matted curls that were now sticking to his head. Looking around for you he noticed that there was no new sign of your presence since the last time he had awoken. “I’m sure she’s just out for a bit longer.”, he muttered to himself. Due to his wound and the two times he had fallen asleep now, he had no idea how much time had passed since you had half dragged him back into your home. Sneaking up on your attackers had been a reckless idea but he could not bear the thought of you getting hurt because of his business decisions. Sitting up with a groan he decided to hop into the refresher before your most likely imminent return. Gingerly peeling off the bandaging around his midst he studied his wound. A clean shot to his right side, nothing vital was hit otherwise he would not be sitting here.

You had patched him up carefully and although he could not remember the actual process he could see you in front of his inner eye, strong hands thoughtfully cleaning and dressing the wound while caressing the skin around it, your sweet mouth talking him through the process even while he faded in and out of consciousness, keeping him informed and guiding him through the pain.

Every step he took to the refresher felt like a parsec to him but the feeling of disgust at his blood and sweat soaked skin was stronger than the urge to lie back down. Once he had managed to reach the room and close the door, he allowed himself to turn around and study himself in the mirror for a moment. His skin looked sickly pale and his eyes were sunken in, dark circles surrounding them. Maybe he had lost more blood than he had thought initially.

Poe’s mind drifted to the amount of angst seeing him like this had most likely given you and he made a silent promise to make it up to you when you got home. His heart warmed at the idea of you returning to him and lighting up when you saw him on his feet again. If he was still strong enough after the shower and you weren’t there yet he would make your favorite breakfast to surprise you before pulling you back into bed with him.

With another glance at the ring around his neck and a small smile he stepped into the fresher. The water felt amazing on his skin, he could not remember the last time a shower by himself had felt this good. He massaged shampoo into his scalp way longer than necessary, letting the zingy-citrusy smell of it waft over him and inhaling deeply. After thoroughly scrubbing the grime of the day off of him and carefully cleaning the area around his wound he stepped out of the shower and dried off. When Poe turned towards your shared dressed to pull out a clean pair of pants and a shirt he noticed that it looked off somehow.

He spent some time looking at it, blinking slowly when the realization dawned on him. Your clothes were gone. His brows furrowed. Why would your clothes be gone if you were just out for a moment? He looked around more and noticed that the picture of your family you usually had on your nightstand was gone too. Poe’s feet carried him out the door before his brain could catch up to the movement, one of the used speeders you had bought after a job had paid way better than both of you had expected was gone too.

He didn’t know for how long he stared at the vacant spot next to his own speeder. His teeth were shattering by the time he was pulled back into reality by the noises of the people of Kijimi waking up and going about their daily business. All of them were non the wiser that his world was shattering in front of them as they left their homes to reach their destinations this morning. Poe Dameron had no destination anymore, his mind was spinning, he was drifting, his ears were ringing, you had left him in the middle of the night and taken his hope for a happy ending away with you.

Slowly, the ringing subsided and the noise of the world bled back into his mind. It was too loud, too much and he hurried back into your home. He saw his reflection in the mirror in the hall when he came in, his eyes were red-rimmed. When had he started to cry? Unfocused, he felt around for the first object he could find and hurled it at the mirror. He could not stand to look at himself right now. What had he done to make you leave? “Fuck!”, he yelled, turning towards the kitchen and clearing the counter with one angry swipe of his arm. As the plates and glasses that were on the counter shattered, he saw a piece of paper slowly drift towards the ground. He didn’t even notice that he cut himself on the remains of your favorite mug as he picked it up. You had written his name on the back of it in shaky cursive and folded it once. 

The blood from his hand mixed with his tears on the paper as he read the last words he had from you. “I’ll find you in another life, Dameron, be a hero”. He should have told you, he shouldn’t have waited, if only you had known he was willing to put the need to become part of the Resistance aside for you, that he wanted you to be with him forever and settle down with you, if you had known, you never would have left him. Poe Dameron sunk to his knees in the middle of your broken home and for the first time since his mother had died he sobbed loudly and openly, mourning the life he could have had.

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

I am. so. sorry. to put the poor guy through this. As always, thank you guys for reading, comments, likes and reblogs are very, very appreciated, they are what keeps me writing :) 

The flashback is over, so prepare for really awkward tension in the next chapter!

Until next time guys!

[vesuviannights]

Do you think you can do 28 with a ftm mc? (Like female genitalia, top surgery done, he/him pronouns) with dom julian ;w; it's okay if no but you're my favorite writer so i figured I'd ask you

!!!!! Hello!! Hello!! Hello!!

Dom Julian came out to play and it was an experience. 

Anon, I hope this is everything you were after, and thank you so much for trusting me and my writing enough to ask for it (also sorry it took so long).

Julian/You. FTM trans reader (he/him pronouns used). Lemon.

Julian enjoys teasing you mercilessly while other people are in the room. When you finally manage to slip free from his grasp to try and take care of yourself, he finds you and decides to reward his good boy with his long fingers and wicked little tongue.

Featuring: oral, multiple orgasms, semi-public in the beginning, dominant Julian, submissive reader

**

Julian had been teasing you all through dinner, his filthiest work to date with his fingers massaging the inside of your thigh, or taking your own and placing them over his cock (which he had subtly removed from his slacks and was bare and hot and hard in his lap) to massage and pleasure him while you blushed.

What had finally undone you, though, were his words curling around your ear in hot little breaths, telling you with an innocent and easy smile about how he wanted to slam you down onto the table and fuck you from behind, make you scream into the table cloth while forcing you to keep eye contact with whoever was opposite you at the time. You had lasted through that ‘person opposite’ being three courtiers and both Nadia and Asra before you had stumbled to your feet and excused yourself from the room.

Your mind was too addled with lust to bother checking if he was following as you stumbled up through the hallways of the palace to your guest room—you doubted he would, it had been a dinner in his honour after all—and when you had finally reached that room, you had slammed the door shut but hadn’t locked it, too busy tearing your clothes open (not even off) enough so that you could finally slide your fingers down between your legs and whine and keen at the relief it gave you.

And that’s where you were. Rocking pathetically into your hand while fucking yourself with your fingers, trying to rub your clit and emulate the feel of Julian’s cock doing exactly what he had promised to do downstairs, fucking yourself in any hole you could reach with your shaking fingers, dripping with your saliva and arousal.

And you were so close, head thrown back against the mattress, the decorative pillows and sheets strewn around you, flat chest heaving as you keened and whined and moaned and so close, so close, so close—

“Someone so cute shouldn’t ever have to touch themselves, my debauched little kitten.”

You freeze, two fingers in your aching hole, the other two pulling at your hair, trying to emulate the exact way he loved to pull it when he made you bounce on his cock. You blink, a little of your haze clearing, before settling your gaze on Julian’s lean form.

He is draped against the doorframe, a single eyebrow cocked as he tilts his head to look you over. He takes it all in, his hooded gaze on your quivering bottom lip, your hands between your legs, the sight of your fingers frozen in the act of trying to fuck away the depraved thoughts he had so knowingly locked away inside of your mind.

“Then again,” he adds, words slowed. “They shouldn’t be touching themselves, unless they were given permission.”

You flush instantly, removing your hands and shifting up the bed as he approaches, closing your legs to try and uselessly hide your obvious arousal.

He chuckles quietly under his breath. “You’ve been a very naughty boy, haven’t you?”

You shake your head, a glint in your gaze as Julian curls a hand around the bed post and tilts his head at you.

“Oh no, you definitely have. Show me your fingers.”

You do, and of course they are wet, positively sopping from your arousal, from where you’ve been gathering saliva trying to suckle on them just the way he liked you to.

He tuts and with a shake of his head, drops forward and begins to crawl up your body with a purr.

“Now what am I going to do with you?” He asks, almost croons, as though trying to both scold and tempt you. As he moves, his nose trails slowly up your quivering body, finding every exposed patch of skin until he reaches your face, nipping at the flushed tip of your own. “My naughty, defiant little kitten who can’t even listen to an order I give him?”

You feel the words on the tip of your tongue. You know what you want, exactly how he could punish you, but if you want it, he will not give it. But he sees it in your eyes, knows exactly what you want, and apparently, he is in a softer mood.

With another quiet tut and a not-at-all-subtle smirk, he pushes his hair off his face to expose his red eye and sits back on his feet. His fingertips trail down the inside of your legs, all the way to your ankles, which he suddenly snatches at, yanking you toward him so that you fall flat on the mattress with a light oof.

“Be a good boy and keep your eyes on me,” he instructs you quietly.

You nod, barely catching a desperate little whine as it builds in the back of your throat, and he begins.

He works methodically and with an unsettling amount of patience as he kisses up your body, starting with your ankle, your calf, the inside of your knee. He scrapes his teeth along the sensitive skin there and then immediately soothes it with the hot swell of his tongue, leaving similar marks as he moves further up the inside of your thighs.

The spaces between his kisses and marks get smaller and smaller as he approaches the part of your legs, until it feels like he has made no progress and come no closer at all, and it is everything inside of you not to sob in frustration, not to become a pathetic mess at how close you had been before he had found you, and just how much he is torturing you now that he had.

But when he finally presses a kiss to the crook of your thigh, right beside your aching hole, your body rips itself from your control. Your hips twitch and push up toward him, and you keen, the noise high-pitched and desperate as your knuckles pale where they are bunched up in the sheets.

Julian chuckles into your sweat-damp skin at the response, everything about the sound telling you he was enjoying every moment of your torture, before finally placing his lips between your legs.

He begins by kitten licking your swollen clit, giving you the attention you had been begging for but nowhere near enough, making you tremble worse than he had downstairs when he had been teasing you with filthy words about fucking both your holes and making you scream with pleasure.

“Lift your shirt,” he tells you, his voice a deep, husky rumble from the depths of his chest. “Show me that glorious chest of yours.”

You scramble to obey, shifting and yanking your shirt up, the cool night air making your nipples stiff.

And you already know what he is asking for, how he wants you to worship yourself, and so as he continues to kitten lick and tease your clit and every sensitive inch of you, your fingertips trail up your stomach. The barely-there touch makes your muscles contract and shiver, your thighs twitching and tightening a little around Julian’s head.

“Go on, kitten,” he murmurs to you.

And then your fingertips are brushing lightly over your scars, tracing the faint pink lines back and forth a his hooded gaze lifts to watch. Trapped in his gaze, you begin to circle your nipples, and you release a soft moan of appreciation as he begins suckling on your clit in reward.

“Good boy, such a good boy—” He murmurs, pulling away to slip a finger into your aching hole. “Are you very close to coming?”

You nod reverently, throwing your head back when he adds a second finger and returns his lips to your clit, suckling hard. His message is clear, and you are never one to disobey your master, unless it is means to an end you were too impatient to wait for.

Within moments, you are keening and pushing and grinding your hips up into Julian’s mouth, down into his fingers, trying to seek more sensation, whispering reverent little prayers under your breath of yes yes yes thank you sir thank you sir.

And it’s the last ones that earn your true reward, that keep him suckling and stretching you until you keen and come a second time immediately after, black spots popping in your vision from the force of it. Your hips grind and push up into his mouth, thighs locked tight around his head, keeping him on you until the last waves fade out from your body in small twitches and gasps, and you are completely spent.

You flop back into the bed, your breathing hard and jaw slack as Julian kisses up your body, leaving wet marks wherever he goes, taking extra time to trace his tongue along your scars–he’s always worshipped them so–and around your nipples until he reaches your mouth.

You barely get a chance to glance his face—covered in the mess of your arousal—before he kisses you, makes you taste yourself with soft sighs and sweeps of his tongue, his fingers dancing along the inside of your thigh as though already tempted to tease and make you scream once more.

“I’m so proud of you,” Julian murmurs against your mouth. “I thought for sure you would have given our little game away when I told you I was going to fuck you in front of—”

You laugh quietly, cutting him off. “Mmmm, you give me far too little credit. I’m a good boy.”

“Indeed you are, and it’s a lesson I have learned and will not be repeating. Are you still sensitive?”

You shake your head, and watch as a wicked grin splits Julian’s face. He gently rocks his hips into your thigh, and you become aware of his stiff length straining against his trousers as he sighs and groans into your neck.

“Good,” he purrs. “Because now that we’re both here, I have no plans on stopping until both of us are sobbing.”

And then, with a quick bite to your shoulder, he unbuckles his belt to truly begin your night.

[tran5rightsos]

My Systems are Critical

Summary: Luke and Calum meet a friendly gleth on Zsashos V who just wants to help.

Genre: Sci-fi

Relationships: Luke/Client

Word count: 1711

Tags and Warnings: Blood and Gore, Prostitution, Alien Sex, Body Horror, Angst

Leave Kudos?

“Fuck, you’re big,” Luke whined desperately.

It was basic, but the quovroli seemed to like it anyway, grunting proudly as they fucked Luke into the bed. They panted, showing off wickedly sharp teeth and a pointed tongue. Luke could feel their hot breath on his chest, their claws on his thighs, and if he’d known the fear of being eaten by a client was this fucking good, he would have offered his services to quovroli a long time ago.

Even without the unfortunate reputation the human meat trade gave them, this quovroli was a surprisingly good fuck. Luke had had his fair share of prehensile dicks and aphrodisiac cum, but there was a simplicity in just getting fucked hard that he liked.

The quovroli’s grip on his thighs tightened, claws digging in painfully. Luke gasped and let go of the bedsheets to jerk himself off. He vaguely thought that he should remind the quovroli to be gentler, but he was so close.

As he came, so did the quovroli, growling and shoving into him one last time. Panting, Luke felt the whitenoise slowly fade from his head and he watched them pull out, realising that he was bleeding where their claws had been holding him. Oops.

The quovroli leaned down and Luke watched with bated breath as they drew their tongue up his inner thigh, along the wounds their claws had left.

“Relax,” they laughed as they straightened up, “I’m not gonna eat you. Just wanna know what you taste like.”

Luke exhaled and sat up, pulling his pearlescent white shirt back onto his shoulders and doing up two buttons. His wristcom, a sleek silver band he’d treated himself to when his old one finally kicked the bucket, beeped with the credit transfer tone and he checked it to see the rest of the quovroli’s payment and a surprisingly good rating, given that Luke had mostly just laid there while the quovroli did all the actual work. They must have appreciated the post-orgasm snack.

“I’ll be back,” the quovroli promised, eyeing the mess between Luke’s legs satisfactorily.

“Anytime.”

As they left, Luke got up and smoothed out his skirt. It would need a clean, but would be fine until he got home. He’d be wearing his coat over the top of it anyway, so it wasn’t like anyone would notice anything they couldn’t smell already.

Once he’d cleaned up a bit, Luke let his human friend, Calummintha, know that he was on his way home. Calum tended to worry for his safety, which made Luke feel just a little bit guilty about some of the clients he chose, but he liked the element of danger too much to stop allowing them.

Calum replied that he’d meet him on the way there and Luke headed out. He found Calum at the marketplace they often frequented, snacking on something smoky-smelling as he waited.

“How was work?” Calum asked, eyes falling and widening, “Shit, are you okay?”

Luke looked where Calum was staring, at the blood running down his legs.

Luke groaned and lifted his coat and skirt just enough to see the wounds. “Shit.”

They were deeper than he’d thought. Probably still not enough to be dangerous, but they weren’t going to close on their own.

“I was gonna clean them up when I got home…”

“Luke,” Calum snapped, “What the fuck happened?”

“Are you okay?” someone else asked.

Luke looked up at the gleth that had stopped to stare. Even being over a head taller than Calum, he still didn’t match the height of any mature gleth.

He lowered his skirt. “Yeah, they’re not as bad as they look. I can close them at home.”

“They should be checked for infection,” the gleth fretted, “I have specialised equipment for humans at base camp.”

Luke shared a look with Calum. Normally he wouldn’t go to a client’s home, but it might be okay if Calum stayed with him. If this gleth really did just wanna help, Luke could possibly get a lot of credits out of them and whoever else was at their base camp. Hopefully they had plenty of Storm so he wouldn’t get tired.

“Okay.”

The gleth’s antennae lifted happily. “I’m Kakkin. What are your names?”

“I’m Tekka.” Luke never gave clients his real name.

“Daxun,” Calum said, apparently coming up with a fake name on the spot.

Although Luke was willing to walk, Kakkin looked scandalised by the suggestion and begged to be allowed to carry him there. Luke immediately switched into poor injured human mode and said that he was feeling lightheaded from seeing all that scary blood. Although Calum rolled his eyes hard, Luke would play into whoever Kakkin wanted him to be and he had to admit that he liked that they kept patting his head and telling him it was gonna be okay as they headed for their base camp.

Their camp was only a few corridors away from the marketplace, what looked like a collection of life pods surrounded by temporary fencing with some kind of logo printed on it, though the pods were in much better condition than the run-down one Luke and Calum lived in.

“Guards?” Calum observed as they passed the two armed gleth at the gate.

“Zsashos V is a bit… infamous,” Kakkin explained apologetically.

They took Luke and Calum to a large medical pod with green crescents printed on the walls and Luke stared as they went in. A human was inside, cleanly dressed and watching them expectantly. At least three more were lying half submerged in tanks full of greenish liquid on the far corner, making for more humans than Luke had ever seen in one place in his life.

“This is Tekka,” Kakkin told the conscious human as they took Luke to an examination table, and gently set him down, “His legs are bleeding, poor thing. Not badly, but the wounds looked deep.”

“I’m Athiid,” the human told Luke and Calum as she took some insanely clean medical stuff from a shelf.

“Could you open your legs, please?” Kakkin asked, pulling gloves onto two of their hands.

Luke obliged.

Kakkin lifted his skirt enough to see the goods. “Your clothes may get in the way. Would you like some clean undergarments to cover yourself with?”

“That’s okay,” Luke replied as he hopped off the table, unzipped his skirt and pushed it to the floor, giving his freed tail a seductive wiggle.

Calum rolled his eyes.

Kakkin helped Luke back onto the table and used a wet cloth Athiid had brought over in a bowl to dab around the claw wounds. “Can you tell me what made these?”

“Quovroli client.”

Calum frowned deeply.

“They weren’t trying to hurt me,” Luke rushed, “We just got kinda carried away.”

“You’re a hybrid human?” Athiid asked, tapping at a tablet she’d set on the exam table.

“Yeah. Gleth-augmented.”

“And you do sex work?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “We’ll check for damage and run some infection tests along with genetics.”

“Oh, I test myself at least every rotation,” Luke assured her, but she was already moving on.

“What about you?” she asked Calum.

Calum answered her questions as Kakkin cleaned and sealed Luke’s wounds. When they were done, they told them to wait while they prepared the tests.

“If you start fucking anyone, I’m leaving,” Calum threatened quietly as Luke pulled on the clothes Kakkin had left him. They were much cleaner than anything he’d ever worn before, even though he took a lot of care in keeping his work clothes tidy.

“I don’t think they want to,” Luke said with a pout, wandering towards the humans in the corner, “Looks like they actually do just wanna help.”

“They could be working for a kitchen,” Calum said lowly, “Speaking of which, why the fuck did you take a quovroli client?”

Luke rolled his eyes, then gasped. “Mikey!” He ran to the nearest tank and stared at the human lying there.

There was a mask with a bunch of tubes attached to machines over his mouth and nose, bandages covered half of his face and it had been longer than Luke could remember, but it was definitely Michael.

“You know that human?” Athiid asked, hurrying over.

“His name’s Yovamaikle.” Luke looked down at his legs. His thighs were almost bone-thin and there was skin missing around the middle of them, almost like a messy strip had been dissolved away, exposing what remained of the muscle underneath. “What happened to him?”

“These three were found in a quovroli kitchen. They were being kept in cloning tanks.”

So it wasn’t just his legs and face. They could have been cutting away and regrowing pieces of him this whole time and Luke had had no idea.

“Luke,” Calum said gently.

“I thought he was dead,” Luke choked out, gripping the edge of the tank.

“We found him,” Athiid assured him, “And he’s doing very well now. How long has he been missing?”

“I don’t know, since we were kids,” Luke told her, tears spilling over.

“He could have memory problems when he wakes up,” Athiid said gently, “But if you knew him and want to assist with his recovery, seeing and talking to you may help.”

“How long will it take?” Luke asked her.

“To fully get his memory back? Could be the rest of his life, if ever.”

Luke sobbed.

“We can get him walking again, though,” she told him, “And we can take all of you to a sanctuary on a gleth planet. You can spend as much time as you need helping him heal and remember there.”

Calum put an arm around Luke. “We’ll think about,” he promised, “This is a lot, though.”

“There’s plenty of time,” Athiid told them as she turned to leave, “If he wants to stay here, we’ll stick around until he’s well enough to survive on his own.”

Luke mashed at his eyes with his palms. “I thought he was dead.”

“Me too,” Calum said quietly as Luke bent down to bury his face in his shoulder, “We’re gonna help him, though, yeah? As much as we can.”

Nodding, Luke peered at Michael again. “Is he gonna remember us?”

Calum squeezed him tighter. “We’ll find out when he wakes up.”

[margoshansons]

The Killing Kind (16/17)

Part Sixteen

MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/N finds her dad in a state he’s never been in before. The two have a conversation regarding family and patching up their differences.

Warnings: Mild swearing. ANGST. 

Notes: The penultimate chapter yay!!! It’s not very action-packed, but neither is the ending of the movie so...This is a lot more Quentin x Y/N focused more than anything and soon our beloved couple will be ripped apart thanks to well...the mid-credits scene.

“You can’t trick me anymore” Peter whispered, wrestling the gun and EDITH from her father. Y/N watched as her dad crumpled, his face hitting the ground with the rest of his body.

“Execute them all!” Peter announced, using EDITH to turn off the drones. Y/N raced forward, her body crashing into Peter’s, holding on tightly and refusing to let go.

The pair turned toward the man who had ruined all of their lives. The man who lay dying on the ground.

“How could you do this?” Peter asked, arms still wrapped around Y/N.

“You see,” Mysterio breathed, “People want to believe. And nowadays...people will believe anything.”

Silence followed his statement. MOvement slowing until…

“Is he?” Y/N asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“All illusions are down” EDITH chirped. 

She collapsed. 

Her hand raised itself to her mouth, sobs wracking her body as she stared at the dead body of her father. His eyes blank and empty, all the crazy gone from them. Saltwater burnt her tongue as she sat on her knees, curling into herself as she mourned the man who abused her.

The man who had raised her. 

The man who was her first love before anyone else.

The man who broke her heart before anyone else could. 

Her body was on fire, not even Peter’s comforting embrace cooling her down. Pain spread like a virus, shutting every cell in her body down and the only thing she could think was My father is dead, my father is dead, my father is dead, my father is dead, my father is dead, my father is dead.

She crawled over, Peter long gone, wanting nothing more than to cradle her dad’s body one last time. To call him Dad without being patronizing, to tell him how much she loved him.

Her hand phased through his body.

Grief turned to anger as she realized what he had done. Her teeth clashed together before parting to release a scream unheard of. It rattled the glass, her fist pounding against the debris-covered floor.

With a start she stood up, hair hanging in sweaty clumps on her face, as her brain lit up with the exact location of Quentin Beck.

The taxi was simple to get. Easy to set up and easy to pay for. Entering the run-down building was harder than she had ever imagined. She grew up here. She was left here. She spent eight wonderful years of her life here before they were uprooted to New York. Before she got her powers.

The door swung open easily, her glare focused on the man in the MoCap suit struggling to sit up on the queen bed.

“You’ll strain yourself” She uttered, moving closer to him on the bed, energy expanding from her fingers. He watched as the daughter he had used and abused almost to death stitched up his wound, using magic he had done nothing but exploit in his lifetime.

“I was wrong” Quentin breathed out, pain lacing his voice, “You’re not useless. You’re amazing.”

Y/N ignored her father’s words, focusing on sewing the layers of muscle back together. “If I had been here any later you would’ve died.” Was all she said.

“Y/N” Quentin begged, asking his daughter to meet his eyes. The eyes that held too much pain for an eighteen-year-old. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m proud of you. Of everything you’ve done.”

“Why now?” she asked, anger seeping out. “Just because I’m healing your wound and have the power to kill you at any moment?”

Quentin shook his head, the gesture causing him to groan in pain. “You--are the best of us. Of everything. You’re so much better than your mother. Than me.”

“You never cared about my mother” Y/N called him out, “Why mention her now?” “Because she would be proud of you” He whispered, “Like me. And if I’m this close to death I want you to know the truth.”

Y/N froze, finally meeting her father’s ice-cold eyes. They weren’t crazy. They weren’t maniacal, they were simply eyes, and they were opening themselves up to her.

“Your mother wasn't from Earth” Quentin confessed, straining, “She never told me where she was from, only that she had something to do while she was here. We bonded over that. Our shared devotion to our purpose in life.”

“You’re lying” Y/N cut him off, voice thick with emotion as tears threatened to escape. 

“For the first time in my life,” Quentin announced, “I’m not.”

He pressed something deep into her palm, his rough hand gently brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. She gazed at the metal Triquetra he had pressed into her hand. It was a pin of some kind.

“She left that behind when she left me,” Quentin admitted, his breathing becoming shallower. “She never loved me. Not in the way I loved her. She just used me for my contacts at Stark Industries, to truly and get closer to the Avengers, I guess her plan failed when she dropped you off at my door. She used me too”

Y/N held back tears that were pooling in her eyes. Her mother wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. This was just another one of his lies, used to manipulate her into doing his bidding. 

“So you took it out on me?” She asked, ripping her hand from his. “I was a child!”

Years of repressed emotions spilled forth, eyes burning from the tears gathering near the edge. “What did I do wrong?” Y/N’s voice broke, saltwater streaming down her face, “All I ever did was what you asked and you tortured me for it.”

Quentin was silent. 

“Every little girl grows up thinking her father is going to love her above all else” Y/N ranted, chest pained, voice thick with anger. “So why didn’t you love me? Why couldn’t you just do the bare minimum and love me? Was that so much to ask?”

His mouth opened but nothing came out.

She had her answer.

“Was any of it real?” Y/N asked, furrowing her brow, ignoring the sobs she released. Her childhood played across her mind like a home video. “Did you ever love me?”

“Of course,” Quentin protested, groaning as he leaned forward to grasp her hand. “You were my little girl, you were smart, you were...stunning. How could I not love you?”

Y/N pulled her hands away, unable to stomach the thought of this man touching her.

“You were given something I never had. Something that Stark made, something Captain America was given, you were born with something so precious in this world, and your mother gave it to you.” Quentin set his jaw at the thought of the unknown woman, “I was resentful. Of her leaving, of her using me, of you.”

She met his eyes, those vulnerable soft eyes that had once belonged to the man she admired more than anything.

Quentin struggled to move forward. “But I never stopped loving and caring for you. You are and always have been the best thing I’ve made.”

She straightened up, “Is that why you almost killed me?”

“I would’ve never done that” Quentin spat, “The kid forced my hand, your life is the only one I treasure more than my own.”

Y/N scoffed, bitterness pounding through her veins. “Liar.”

“I have lied about so many things” Quentin confessed, “But my love for you is not one of them.”

Y/N turned away, setting her jaw. “I grieved you” She confessed, “The man who had taken everything from me. My pride, my security, my confidence. I looked at your dead body and grieved because, despite everything you did to me, I never wanted you dead.”

She whipped around, meeting his gaze once again. “Looks like you’re not the only one who can’t kill a family member.” 

She traced her father with a glyph, keeping him in place while she tied his hands back. He was real. That much she knew. The glyph faded and silence filled the air between the estranged relatives during the long elevator ride down.

SHIELD was eager to get their filthy hands on the man beside her. The agent with an eyepatch handed her a paper business card.

“You need anything, call us” He instructed.

All Quentin could do was stare at his only living relative. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I don’t need your validation anymore” She spat. “I don’t need you anymore. I may be related to you biologically, but you stopped being my father a long time ago.”

Quentin stared at his daughter as he was cuffed, his eyes still in the vulnerable state she had found them in. 

The two Becks could only stare at each other, watching as the last piece of their bizarre family fell apart.

Ugh, my heart, that HURTED! But in all honesty, I think this is one of my favorite chapters in the series, especially with that reveal at the end (special shoutout to those who can figure it out). Also, the magic system is weird, but I just went with it. I figured it was similar to Scarlet Witch but with a touch of aliens.

Thank you for your feedback and please like, reblog, and comment cause it makes my heart very happy!

TAG LIST: CLOSED

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[redfoxwritesstuff]

The Things You Find (In the Rain) Chapter 2

Please thank @winterisakiller​ who’s reactions kept me writing. Nothing like outrage in response to angst to motivate me to make the words flow. You can find my master list with a quick search for ‘kit’s masterlist’.

Chapter warning: Excessive drinking

Chapter 2 is below:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No.” Maggie whimpered as she backed down the hall. “No.”

“Maggie, I told you to-”

Blinded by tears, she groped at the table where she had set her things, picking up whatever ended up in her hand before rushing out the door. Panting breaths ripped out of her lungs as she ran down the hall. Panic welled within her heart as she pounded her palm onto the elevator’s down arrow.

It felt like she was running from a demon. There was no reason she had to fear Evan. He’d never hurt her. Would he? She would have said not even a day before that she would be forever loyal to her. Now? Did she know what he was capable of? She was wrong about this, what else was she wrong about? Would he hurt her? Could he?

In the hall behind her, the door to their suite opened and Evan called for her again as she pounded on the arrow as if it would somehow magically summon the elevator faster. The sound of his feet hitting the carpet grew closer as the doors opened with a chime.

Slipping in, she pounded the down button to close the doors. As the doors begin to slide closed, she braved looking up. In the hall, about twenty feet or so away she could see Evan running, pants not fastened and held up in one first. He was calling out to her but somehow she hadn’t heard it. When the doors slid closed and cut him from her view, her knees again gave out once again.

She didn’t feel it as she fell to the floor. A sob violently ripped through her and she felt like she couldn’t breath. Everything felt numb except the spot deep in her chest that felt shattered. It felt that the broken shards of her heart, her hopes, dreams and their future was somehow stabbing at the tender bits in her chest.

As the elevator smoothly made the decent she tried to pull herself together. Reaching out, she placed her hand against the cool metal of the elevator wall and found she was still numb. Eventually as the adrenaline faded, she would regain feeling. Probably.

She needed to go somewhere but she couldn’t figure out where. First she had to get out of here. Away from him. Knowing she was in the same building as him was too much at the moment. She was thankful for each floor the car descended without the doors opening.

Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, she slowly pulled herself up to her feet. Standing on legs that felt like jelly, she took a few more deep shuddering breaths. With a chime the doors slid open revealing a too bright lobby that had mesmerized her when she fist laid eyes on it. Now as she walked through the space, making a direct path toward the exit, the sight of the lobby around her made her want to vomit into the nearest potted plant.

She wondered if everything was going to make her want to vomit tonight. Would she still feel the urge tomorrow? The day after? Forever? Closing her eyes, she swallowed down a wave of bile and behind her eyelids the scene played out again as if her mind was doing her a curiosity. Her eyes snapped open and it took everything she had not to run for the doors.

Slipping outside, she looked to the left and the right and found the streets to be largely empty. There were some people milling about, working their way here or there seemingly living perfectly fine lives. They probably had people who loved them, who they loved and who wouldn’t betray them the way she had been betrayed tonight.

Opening her purse, she slipped her small handful of items into the clutch style bag. Whatever she had with her would have to do for now. Left behind, probably on the floor of the entry of that cursed hotel room her credit cards were probably lying scattered on the ground. She had her ID at least and a decent wad of cash to last her through the night until she figured out what she was going to do.

Turning right, she walked down the sidewalk in a direction she had not yet explored. She didn’t know where she was going but she didn’t want to be anywhere she had been with Evan. Somehow, she would salvage this night. Somehow, she would salvage this trip. Her feet hurt, crammed into the heels that she had been wearing all evening but she didn’t let that slow her down.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maggie was on a mission to forget. The night passed in a blur as the hour got later and later. She lost track of how many pubs she had been in. It caught her off guard however when the pub closed at 11.

It wasn’t even midnight yet. She downed her drink quickly and stumbled outside with the intention of finding another bar to drown her sorrows in. Walking down the street for who knows how long, she found the next three bars closed for the night.

London’s nightlife was severely lacking it seemed. After another step she scolded herself. It wasn’t fair to judge London’s nightlife just because she happened to be in a place where it seemed every bar closed before midnight. Surely, not every part of London was like this. Plus it was a Thursday night.

With a heavy sigh, Maggie looked around not even sure where she was. It didn’t matter. She walked and walked, swaying more than she would like to admit with her heels hanging limply from her fingers. Tears welled into her eyes as she turned down a random street. She needed to find another open bar before she thought too much.

She didn’t want to think. Thinking was bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

“We’re closing in 15.” The large man behind the counter drew her attention up to his face. The Bar was nearly empty and the bartender who’s name she had forgotten an hour ago had quickly noticed that Maggie was in a bad place emotionally and was kind enough to occupy her time. They played board games to pass the time while she downed drink after drink as the clock ticked well passed midnight.

When she stumbled out of the bar into the dark of the street she had no plan. Maggie was nearly out of cash and completely unaware of where she was. When she had left the hotel after the incident she didn’t want to think about she had not managed to grab her credit cards or the hotel key.

With her mind muddled by alcohol, Maggie couldn’t even remember the name of the hotel she was staying at. In the end, did it matter? She didn’t want to go back there. That place was where Evan was and where she had found him between the legs of another woman. It was also where her cellphone sat probably still on the table by the hotel door. Still, she had no where to go.

The weight of the world seemed to crash around her without anyone distracting her. Staggering, she slowly walked down the sidewalk toward a park. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. She wanted to turn back time and make it so that the events of the day never happened. Maybe if she had left with Evan rather than letting him to back to the hotel alone? Maybe if she just had stayed out longer? She wouldn’t have had to find out. If she never knew about it, it couldn’t hurt her.

The sound of thunder filled the air though she saw no flash of lightening. Looking up, she could barely see the moon through the thick cover of clouds. No stars danced for her. Another crash of thunder filled her ears as the misty air grew heavier with the impending rain.

Somehow, she managed to make it to the bench before collapsing onto it. The world was closing in around her and she was so tired. Looking around, she tried to pull herself together. She needed to figure out where she was and where she was going to go but it was so hard to focus on anything but the pain in her chest.

A brown dog came running out of nowhere. It nuzzled into her knee, drawing her attention and demanding that it stay wholly on him. Reaching out halfheartedly, she petted the dog. It was more that she limply held her hand out and the eager canine rubbed his head and back along her hand only to turn around and repeat the action.

“Bobby?!” A man in the distance called and the dog perked up and ran off, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Another clash of thunder boomed as she pushed herself off the bench. A raindrop splashed against the toe of her shoe. A few more sprinkled on the sidewalk around her. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other while she searched for cover, she didn’t pay any attention to the man talking to his dog.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom scolded Bobby as he clipped the leash onto his collar. If he wouldn’t stay near and leave people alone, Tom had no choice but to restrain the lovable monster. Bobby whined as the woman he had been bothering stood, swaying so much that Tom was concerned that she would fall over before she began walking.

“Enough, Bobby.” The dog whined more, tugging lightly on his leash wanting to go to her. “If you don’t behave we’ll go home.”

A raindrop landed on his glasses, leaving a wet trail in his field of vision. It was annoying and he wasted no time pulling the glasses from his face and wiping them dry while he carefully watched the blurry form of the woman walking along the sidewalk toward him.

If she recognized him, she showed no sign of it. She was clearly intoxicated. When her foot slipped off the edge of the sidewalk and her ankle twisted an awkward angle that Tom was sure would cause pain in the morning, he was sure she would fall in a heap onto the grass. With arms out in a dramatic fashion only managed by the those who have spent the evening with a strong drink, she managed to catch herself and continue on.

Shaking his head, Tom was thankful when she walked by without paying him any attention. She wiggled her fingers at Bobby and smiled as she walked passed however there was a sadness in her eyes that made Tom wonder about her in passing. It wasn’t often Bobby was the one to get all the attention from a stranger.

Pulling the umbrella from his pocket, he put the drunk woman out of his mind. One more lap around the park and Tom would head back home. Bobby should be well tired out for the night after that and if he was lucky they would make it back before the weather made a serious turn for the worst. Without a thought, he rested the rod against his shoulder and began jogging once again.

Maggie’s hand dragged against the rough wall of the building as lighting cracked across the sky. The boom of thunder followed shortly as the sky seemed to rip open. The sprinkling of heavy yet sparse raindrops gave way to a downpour. In little time at all, she was drenched.

With rainwater running down her face, her own internal floodgates opened. Lost and with very little money left, she rested against the wall and tried to think. Her stomach churned and she willed herself to not vomit.

She shouldn’t have gone out. She should have stayed. She should have talked to Evan and worked something out. If she hadn’t been a coward, she could be at the hotel right now, safe and warm.

No, he threw her away. He threw them away. He threw their marriage away. He threw their future away. It was his fault she was out here. It was his fault she was hurting. This was his fault.

Sliding down the wall, Maggie resigned herself to spending the night on the sidewalk. She should be looking for somewhere dry and secluded to wait out the night and sober up but she couldn’t will strength to return to her legs. The rain was cold and she drew her knees up as she sat and cried.

A few people walked by but none stopped to ask her if she was alright. None stopped to ask her if she was lost. None stopped to offer her anything at all. In the end, Maggie figured that something was wrong with her. That had to be the only reason everyone in the world cast her aside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

Tom sighed as he watched Bobby happily prance through a large puddle. He would likely be finding and cleaning muddy spots for weeks after this. It seemed he always was able to avoid taking Bobby out in a hard rain until right after he cleaned the last traces of the prior incident and at this point he really should know better.

Little booties were the solution, he decided. And a raincoat. Keep the feet clean and most of the beast dry. In front of him Bobby jumped gleefully in a puddle, splashing water up onto his belly before rolling in it. It would take more than booties and a coat to keep that creature clean and dry.

His phone chirped in his pocket and Tom passed the leash to his other hand, gripping it loosely while holding the umbrella steady and fishing the phone from his pocket. Glancing to Bobby he mentally prayed the dog would behave while he quickly answered the text.

Bobby perked up and gave a solid yank on the leash, pulling it almost free and earning a string of curses from his annoyed master. Tom grabbed at his phone as he watched it fall to the ground. With a splash it landed in a puddle. Of course it landed in a puddle.

Tom wasn’t sure what to be more worried about- the water or the new web of cracks across the screen? Bobby gave another yank and the leash slipped out of his hand. Tom swept the phone up and looked at the screen, partially lit up in white, pink and blue and partially black and dead. Now he certainly couldn’t put off the purchase of a new phone any longer.

Pocketing it quickly, Tom gave chase to the dog who clearly couldn’t mind his manners tonight. The sound of splashing filled the cool air as he rushed down the street after the damned dog.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~```

Maggie cracked open her eyes when the warm wet nose of a dog pressed against her face, filling the space in the crook of her elbow as she cradled her head against her knees. The creature huffed a warm breath that frankly smelled terrible in the oddly enduring way that dog’s had. As another tear slipped down her wet face the dog’s tongue darted out. Finally she gave the creature her full attention.

“You’re the same dog, aren’t you?” After failing to remember the name the man had called the dog, she pulled the tag on his collar around so she could read the name. “Bobby?”

She tried to shoo the dog away. Surely his master would be looking for him. Yet the brown bundle of fur was eager to sit with her. It’s hard to say how she ended up with her arms around the dog, sobbing into his neck and telling him all her woes in words that couldn’t be made out by the few people who walked passed.

Tom wearily walked up to where Bobby sat with his front paws in the lap of a woman soaked to the bone. It took him a moment to realize that it was the woman from the park. Choked sobs wracked her body as Bobby nuzzled her. Looking to the left then the right, he hoped to find someone to claim the woman. The street was nearly deserted in the late hour.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked and winced as another sob escaped her. It was a dumb question. Clearly she was very upset and very much not alright. Again he looked around, trying to figure out what to do.

“Bobby, come on.” The dog ignored his call. It was just as well, though he had intended to take his dog and leave the woman it felt wrong to do so. Still, what was he to do? To take her, go anywhere with her would be a risk. Pictures could be taken and people would talk.

Another choked sob escaped the woman. She smelled like alcohol and was clearly very drunk. A wet snuffle escaped her and Tom knew Bobby’s neck would surely be covered in snot. Again he looked around before kneeling down next to her, careful to keep his knee up and dry and the umbrella over him.

“Can I help you get somewhere?” He softly asked. When she didn’t answer he rested his hand on her shoulder. The fabric was thin and wet. Her shoulder was cold under his hand. He wanted to but he couldn’t leave her there. He didn’t think she would answer him as silence ticked on, measured only by the steady drum of rain and Bobby’s panting breaths.

“I don’t know where I am.” The woman mumbled with a distinctly American voice when he nearly asked again.

“That’s alright, Darling. Where do you need to be? I’ll get you a taxi to get there.” Tom again looked around, praying for someone else to be around to take over.

“I don’t know.” She whispered, seemingly having finally spent all her tears. “I can’t go back.”

“Go back? Why not?” Bobby finally got off her lap and he could see her better. He hadn’t paid any mind to her before but she was clearly not dressed for the weather. Blood trickled down her heel from where the strap of her heeled sandals rubbed the skin open. “Is someone hurting you? Are you not safe where you are staying?” The more questions he had asked, the more he worried for the woman.

“What’s wrong with me?” She asked instead.

“You’re very drunk for one.” Tom mumbled to himself as he considered calling for a car. He wasn’t sure where he would take her but she clearly couldn’t stay here in the rain. He couldn’t really send her off alone with out a place to go. If she went back to where ever she was staying, he couldn’t be sure she was safe.

“Why’d he do it?” She whimpered.

“What did who do? Did he hurt you?” Tom asked. “Darling, let’s stand up and get you out of the rain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~````

Tag List: @dangertoozmanykids101, @alexakeyloveloki, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @bambamwolf87, @j-u-s-t-4, @wegingerangelica, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl, @just-the-hiddles​, @jennytwoshoes

as always, want in on the tag list? All you got to do is let me know. 

[ksocialaus]

Singularity - Soulmate AU

notes: hi! this is the first fic I'll be uploading here :)

I wrote this a few months ago and I decided to publish it

This ain't a fic with the "(y/n)" thing, I put names on the characters but you may feel free to imagine yourself as Danielle (Namjoon's girlfriend) or Reno (Hoseok's girlfriend)

Reno will be the one who narrates most of the story, sometimes Namjoon will do it... Hoseok... Tae, etc. I'll let you know at the beginning of every episode who will be narrating.

Hope you all like it :)

Warnings: violence, mentions of sex, and I think that's it... If you find something else please let me know and I'll edit the warning :)

Ps. English ain't my first language, so please forgive me if I have some mistakes, I'm still learning.

Gif is not mine. Credits to the owner.

word count: 1,966

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

"Shit" small drops of blood fell on the wooden board mixing with the apples that I was just cutting, I brought my finger to my lips cleaning the blood with my tongue feeling how the metallic taste began to flood me, listening immediately a scream nothing discreet that came from Hobi's studio "Sorry!" was the only thing I could scream before heading to his room. 

I opened the door carefully throwing a small laugh as soon as I saw him on the floor caressing his little finger from which sprinkled small drops of blood "God, I had never met someone so dramatic" my knees hit the ground causing a little more pain to him causing a giggle to come from my lips "stop hurting me, woman" I stretch my hand holding his and leave a little kiss in the wound I had caused "you only had to cut a couple of apples, that was it, so dare you to mock Nam's clumsiness" I wrinkle my nose pushing his shoulder with force feeling the pain immediately in mine "Ha!, that's what you deserve"

[…]

The room was filled with laughter from Hoseok and whines from Taehyung while my hands carefully pressed a piece of cotton soaked with alcohol on my friend's cheek "this is the third time, Taehyung. Don't you think that is it time to look for her ... or look for him? - The blonde's long fingers took my wrist a little hard making my cares stop and Hoseok's laughter fade away feeling that pressure on his own wrist "She has to come to me, you know that if I look for her on purpose it can become worse... the connection may be lost"

I pressed my lips, easing my arm out of Tae's grip as I nodded softly "I know, but, what if she is in trouble? something bad must be happening. Tae. You have to find her" Hobi sat next to Tae while I was leaning my hand on his shoulder giving him a little squeeze "you know we can help you find her, you just have to ask" I heard my boyfriend whisper to him while the blonde took the cotton between my fingers and nodded while cleaning his own wounds "can I stay tonight? I am afraid of being alone and that something happens again"

This wasn't the first night Taehyung spent here, I could bet that the blonde spent more nights here than Hobi or I had spent in the two years we had lived together "maybe if we looked for them and not Tae... maybe that could avoid that everything gets worse, right?" my fingers traced gently Hoseok's back while one of his legs hugged my waist and his face was buried in my neck allowing me to feel his breathing became calmer making me see that he was not falling asleep "Tae doesn't want us to look for her, he wants it to happen spontaneously" his voice was calm and a little hoarse making me feel a little calmer about the situation of the blonde sleeping on our sofa "I'll take him some sheets, do you think he is comfortable?" I stopped stroking his skin looking to get out of bed but I just managed to get the grip of his leg on my waist to become stronger and one of her hands entwined her fingers with mine "he's fine, he just needs to rest. Tomorrow we have a long day. Now, continue to caress me" I went back to the bed and gave up deciding to go back to my job of caressing Hoseok until he was asleep. A couple of minutes later I could hear Hobi's quiet breathing mixed with the odd snore, plus the small sobs from the living room.

Working just with rings of light was the most stressful thing in the world, God, I had to record a dance practice, not a makeup tutorial, although I would not complain if the guys asked me to help them record one at some point, especially Jimin. "Kookie, can you put yourself in your mark? I need to check the light with the lens" Jungkook noded before getting up from the floor and running to the position he played in the choreography we were going to record. It took me a couple of seconds to look at each detail of the lighting, I raised my thumb in affirmation, indicating that he could return to their stretches because everything was set to start recording.

[…]

A couple of laughs made me sigh and get closer to the lights regulator to turn it off making all the lights stop working in seconds. "We brought food" Namjoon smiled to see a pair of dimples on each side of his cheeks.

Eating with chopsticks was more difficult than it seemed, and even though Danielle and I had been living in Korea for a couple of years we still did not learn to use them completely, which is why I used to always carry a couple of silverware in my backpack, which let Yoongi annoy or make jokes to our clear incompetence to not knowing how to use chopsticks "Taehyung... I swear... if you finished rice I will hit you in the face" I stretch my hand to the blonde who only gave me one of his peculiar smiles before hiding behind Jin "Danielle brought my favorite" it was always the same, every time we ate together "after two years, I'm starting to believe that you bring the rice that we like most, just make us fight" I looked at my friend who was almost on the other side of the studio sitting on her boyfriend's legs while giving me a smile full of fun "no... of course not! How could I?" Namjoon let out a laugh making his eyes squeeze, as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist and left a kiss on her cheek "Danielle asked for only one order" although it was not common, every time Nam betrayed Danielle it was one of the funniest things in my life.

Tae and I breathed a sigh of surprise and in unison, we shouted "I knew it!" making everyone laugh.

When we finished eating and cleaned everything up, leaving the disposables in a small trash can that was in a corner of the studio, the boys were warming up a little more while Danielle and I reconnected all the lights and prepared the song that the guys were going to record: Airplane pt.2 "Today you finished early in school, everything all right?" I finished connecting the last light while I was going to the small studio mixer followed by my friend "yes, we are in final exams so I leave earlier. Nam went to pick me up at school. You should have seen my students' faces when they saw that my relationship with Namjoon was not a lie" I gave a little nasal giggle and shook my head "it's been a year and a half since you and Namjoon came out. I don't understand why people don't believe it yet - I wrinkle my nose before putting a small part of the song to make sure everything sounds perfect.

"God Jin, I love you, but I swear that if you make me do another take I'll cut you from the video and nobody will see your beautiful face" Jin just gave me a pout before using a paper towel to wipe the sweat while everyone went to drink water or just rest a little. I was erasing the fifth video in which Jin had been wrong by the choreography when I felt arms in my waist and breath against my ear causing a little tingle to run down my spine "Ah... but <<don't get mad at Jin when he makes a mistake at concerts. He's just a baby, give him a break>>" I pressed my lips listening to the mockeries of my boyfriend hitting him immediately in the stomach causing us both to launch a moan of pain that caught a pair of looks, one in particular "Oh God no, will they do it here again?" I opened my eyes wide open watching Danielle with my mouth open "You said you wouldn't say a word, traitor!" the studio was filled with laughter and several "ew" by everyone who made my Hobi's face light up red "it was only once, I was rehearsing Boy Meets Evil, what did you expect us to do?" I just covered my face with my hands giving a choked cry while I denied it "Let's just finish this, please. I still have to do the script for the next mv" I saw Namjoon give a little kiss on the lips to Danielle whispering an "it's for good luck" before winking at the brunette and running to his position, while Yoongi and Jimin threw their bottles of water on the floor where they wouldn't get in the way and, the others gathered in their respective places.

Danielle was sitting in one of the chairs in the study, next to the large mirror, I tried to focus on the camera and the sound while the boys began Suga's verse. It was at the moment that Yoongi finished his strophe when I had to reopen the shot, letting the guys run to take their place again, I watched Tae carefully as he continued his part.

I observed how the blonde ran from his position to the next position. Tae was supposed to end between Jungkook and Jin and then start singing, instead I could only watch how he was unable to stop stumbling over Yoongi and falling to the ground in seconds, I released a sigh with the intention of stopping the recording, but before I could even touch the stop button, the blond's back hit the ground causing us all to be alarmed in seconds.

We all knew about Tae's problem, as he sometimes came to one of us houses with bruises on his face; we sometimes found him crying because he felt pain in some part of his body; sometimes he had cuts and even burns, wounds that he did not provoke himself... wounds that were transmitted through his soul mate, because that was how this stupid world worked.

My eyes were on the blonde on the floor, the boys tried to help him, we started to see blood coming out from his lips as well as his head, his arms were beginning to be scraped and the floor was beginning to fill up of a reddish color. Namjoon and Jungkook were trying to hold Tae while receiving a couple of involuntary blows causing a broken lip to Jungkook and a blow to Namjoon's nose. Then the whole studio was wrapped in a too thick silence, everything happened in slow motion.

Somehow Tae got rid of the grip of Nam and Kookie, and when he wanted to stand up something pushed him too hard causing him to make one of the lighting rings collide with one of the studio mirrors causing it to break into pieces. Taehyung screamed from deep in his throat, it was when we all came out of our trance. Jin and Suga left the studio running around screaming for someone to call an ambulance, Danielle ran to the bathroom in search of an emergency kit while Jungkook and Jimin were trying to lift Tae off the ground. When they did, I could see how the blond's back was covered in blood with a pair of glasses buried in his skin. I took my hand to my mouth and ran like the devil straight to the bathroom, expelling the blessed rice for which I had fought with Taehyung only a few minutes ago.

[fanfics4all]

Protection

Request: Yes / no Can I get an ANGSTY Sweet Pea x Reader where someone is pretending to be the black hood as a prank and she scares Sweet Pea and Y/n. But he doesn't realise his "Fake" gun is loaded and off safety so he shoot and hits Y/n in an argan. SHe heals but SP doesn't trust her to be alone anymore, but she's independent so this bothers her. Basically they break up, but then something else happens to put her back in the hospital and SP doesn't know so he doesn't visit her. She gets mad but he explains FLUF @river-fics

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1782

Warnings: Getting shot, cursing, rape, getting cut, blood, and I believe that’s it.

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: I changed this a little bit and I’m sorry! I hope you still enjoy it!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The Black Hood… Riverdale’s very own serial killer, going after what he calls sinners. He shot Fred Andrews and Moose. He killed Miss. Grundy, and Midge. In my opinion everyone but Miss. Grundy was innocent, but not according to a psycho serial killer. Everyone is Riverdale was scared that they were next on the list.

It was a Friday night and I was at home just surfing the web watching cute animal videos and some Netflix. I was home alone when there was a loud knock on my front door. No one was home so I had to get up and answer it. I grabbed a bat from my brother’s room and walked downstairs. I opened the door but no one was there. I looked around confused and then looked down and saw a folder with my name written on it. I picked it up and quickly shut the door and locked it. I went to my living room and sat down on the couch. I put the bat down and opened the folder. There were a few pictures of me at school with my friends and some of me with my boyfriend, Sweet Pea. Under the pictures was a note that just said ‘You’re next!’ I dropped everything and pulled my knees up to my chest, tears blurred my vision. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and called my boyfriend.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” He said and there was a lot of noise in the background so he was at the Wyrm.

“S-sweets…” I said and felt tears run down my face.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asked and I heard the noise start to fade and a Fangs in the background asking where he was going.

“H-he...h-he’s coming for m-me…” I cried.

“Baby, who’s coming for you? Where are you?” He asked worriedly.

“H-home… p-please come…” I said scared out of my mind.

“I’m on my way baby, just stay there.” He said as calm as he could and hung up.

Ten minutes later Sweet Pea was pounding on my door and shouting my name. I got up and walked to the door. I reached for the doorknob with shaking hands and opened the door. Sweet Pea pushed his way in and gathered me in his arms. He pulled back and looked at me.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” He asked worried and checking me all over.

“Sweets…” I whispered and looked down, he grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. He brushed his thumbs against my cheek and wiped away my tears.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asked quietly. I pointed at the pictures and the note that were on the floor and he turned to look at them. He let go of me and walked over to them, he picked them up and read the note. I sat back on the couch hugging my knees. Sweet Pea placed the papers on the coffee table and sat next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

“I’m not gonna let this fucker hurt you.” He said kissing my head.

“What did I do?” I asked scared, how was I a sinner?

“Nothing Y/N, you did nothing.” He said.

“He wouldn’t be coming after me if I didn’t do anything!” I cried. He just sighed and held me closer.

Over the next few weeks I kept getting notes and pictures and Sweet Pea kept me very close. This had become my new normal and it sucked. Sweet Pea and I were walking home from Pop’s and it was dark, very dark. Sweet Pea was holding my hand and I felt safe. But boy was I not. Someone jumped in front of us holding a gun. A black hood adorned his head, my eyes widened and I froze.

“You son of a bitch!” Sweet Pea growled. He said nothing and stepped closer.

“Get away from her!” Sweet me pulled me back but I was still in his view and in the view of the gun. The Black hood laughed and pulled off his hood. Once the hood was off it relieved the asshold Bulldog, Jackson, that enjoys picking on me.

“Ha! You should have seen your face!” He laughed still waving the gun around.

“What the fuck!?” Sweet Pea yelled pissed beyond belief.

“Relax, it’s just a joke! The fucking safety is on!” He said and clicked the trigger. The loudest bang I’ve ever heard.

There was a pain in my stomach, I looked down and touched my stomach. I pulled my hands away and there was blood covering both of them. I started to fall but I think someone caught me. I heard shouting in the distance but couldn’t make out what they were saying. I looked up and saw Sweet Pea, worry swam in his eyes. I weakly lifted my hand and caressed his cheek.

“Hold on baby, the ambulance is coming okay?” Tears fell off his face and onto mine.

“I love you…” I said as black spots invaded my vision.

“No… no you’re not leaving me!” Was the last thing I heard.

A week later

I woke up to a blinding light and a loud beeping. I shut my eyes because of the light but heard shuffling. I opened my eyes again and adjusting to the light.

“Y/N?” I heard a sleepy voice ask, I looked to my left and saw Sweet Pea slouching uncomfortably in a chair. He sat up and quickly moved to the side of my bed.

“Y/N? Baby, oh my god…” He grabbed my hand and he had tears in his eyes.

“S-sweets…” I said and instantly coughed, he poured some water and I drank it.

“I thought I lost you…” He said and a tear fell down his beautiful face.

“I’m right here.” I said and held his face. He snuggled closer into my hand and I kissed him with as much love and life as I could. He pulled away and held my face.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen ever again. I’m going to protect you.” He said and kissed me again.

Six months later

It’s been six months since I was shot by some asshole bulldog, who decided it would be funny to pretend to be the Black Hood and almost kill me. He was arrested and everything was back to normal. Sweet Pea, however, thought I needed to be protected 24/7 so I was never out of his sight unless I was at home with my family. I love him but I couldn’t take it anymore! You try having the same person around you all the time and not get annoyed, it’s impossible! This lead to us fighting more and me trying to push him away which wouldn’t work; so finally I broke up with him and it took him a few days to get the hint that we were really over and he left me alone. Four months since we’ve broken up and I actually started to miss him. I’ve seen him hook up with other girls and go back to his player ways so I started giving up. We were done and it’s probably for the better…

I was walking home alone from the Southside where I was hanging out with Toni when I was pulled into an ally by someone. Ii was tossed to the ground and I looked up to see four Ghoulies surrounding me.

“Well, well, well, not so tough without your little bodyguard around.” One of them said with a sickening smile.

“She’s just a little bitch for us to play with.” Another smirked. They closed in around me and started ripping my clothes from my body. I screamed and kicked trying to get away from this nightmare. I heard a clank of metal and then felt the cold of a knife against my neck.

“If you shut up and don’t fight you won’t get as hurt.” One of the monsters whispered in my ear. Tears sprang to my eyes and fell down my face. They ripped my pants from my body and sliced my shirt open. Two held me down while the other had their way with me and then once they were done, they switched. I screamed and cried as they used me, the two that were holding me sliced my stomach which only made me scream and cry harder. Luckily it got someone’s attention and they called the cops. The cops arrested the creeps and rushed me to the hospital. The doctor stitched me up and had me stay the night, Sheriff Keller questioned me about what happened but I couldn’t tell him so he called someone for me. He called the last person I talked to which was Toni. Toni rushed over but she wasn’t alone, she brought Fangs and Sweet Pea with her.

“Y/N!” Sweet Pea shouted and rushed over to me within seconds.

“Y/N, what happened?” He asked worried like always. My eyes filled with tears and they cascaded down my face like a waterfall. Sweets pulled me into him and I cried soaking his shirt.

“It seems some Ghoulies attacked her and took advantage of her…” Sheriff Keller explained to them.

“What!?” Fangs growled.

“Don’t worry, we have them in custody but we need DNA proof to be able to send them to jail…” He said. The nurse had taken one but I guess didn’t give it to Sheriff Keller.

“A-a n-nurse took one…” I said quietly while sobbing.

“Alright Y/N, I promise these guys will be going away for a long, long time.” Keller said and left to go find the nurse.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Pea asked Toni and Fangs. The two nodded and left. Sweet Pea pulled me away from him and grabbed my face making me look at him.

“I’m sorry…” I cried.

“No, Y/N, I’m sorry… I just wanted to protect you but I made you push me away. This is my fault. I could have protected you if I wasn’t so clingy.” He said a few of his own tears falling.

“I could have protected you if you let me…” He whispered.

“I need you… please…” I said quietly.

“I’ll always be here for you Y/N, I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” I sobbed and kissed him, those warm lips that always made me feel so safe were once again on mine.

“I promise, I’ll keep you safe.” He whispered once we pulled apart.

“I always feel safe when I’m with you.” I whispered back and we kissed once again.

Tag list: @staygoldsquatchling02

[bxcketbarnes]

Ghost of You - Part Two

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader

Author: @cxddlyash

Words: 1989

Author’s Note: We all know I’m a sucKer for happy endings! If you didn't know... well you do now. So, here it is! ALSO POSTED ON THE SAME DAY AS THE FIRST PART. WOW, RIGHT? Thanks to @h0tsos for fixing a couple of mistakes and letting me know her thoughts on it!

picture credit

Luke worked nonstop in the studio, wanting to get the beat of this song just right. He had some help from a couple writers, telling him their ideas and the blonde managed to finish the song in about two weeks.

He found himself standing outside of Calum’s door, knocking quietly as he waited for his best friend to open the door. Luke hasn’t actually been to his house since before the breakup, only in the studio.

The door opened and Cal stood on the other side, his eyes growing wide. “Luke? What are you doing here?” He asked, closing the door a bit and Luke’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“I, uh, finished the song. I wanted your opinion on it,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers together before just pushing past Calum despite the brunette’s plea for him to stop.

You were sat on the couch, snuggled into a blanket you took from the house, Luke’s scent slightly on it as you watched a sad movie. Your head picked up to Calum shouting Luke’s name and your heart dropped, not wanting him to see you like this.

Luke’s eyes landed on you as you perched yourself up on the couch. He could see the tears in your eyes before his gaze went to the tv. “Y/N… w-what-“ he started, confused but realizing why your here and before he could get out a coherent sentence you ran off to the room you stayed in.

His heart broke slightly, staring down the hallways. “Luke…” Calum started, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder and Luke pulled away from him.

“Yo-You didn’t even tell me she was here? Or how she was!?” He yelled, glaring at him.

“She didn’t want you to know,” the bassist calmly spoke, giving Luke a sad look. “She’s far from fine though. Just know that.” Luke ran his fingers through his curls, shaking his head a bit before rushing out of the house, walking back towards his.

-

You heard the door slam shut and you jumped a bit, knowing that he had left in anger. You say cross-legged on the bed, hearing Calum’s footsteps coming closer to your door before he knocked on the wooden surface.

He walked inside the room after you mumbled for him to come in. “I’m sorry. I-I should’ve just let you tell him where I was. I didn’t want you guys to get into a fight,” you whispered, a tear sliding down your cheek and Cal sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect him to come over. He hasn’t left the house unless it was to go to the studio,” he mentioned and you frowned knowing that’s not like Luke at all. “He’s a mess… you know that right? I don’t think he can live without you.”

You shook your head, trying not to cry. “Please don’t tell me that,” your voice strained, sniffling a bit. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before Calum pulled you into his chest. “T-This is all my fault. We’re both broken because of me.” You cried into his shirt, damping the fabric with your tears as you shook. Your breathing picked up as the task became a little harder, Calum noticing.

He pushed you away from him, moving some of the hair from your face as you kept hyperventilating. “Hey, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault. You were just doing what you thought best… everyone makes mistakes,” Calum gently cooed, rubbing the sides of your arms as you nodded, wiping the wet streaks from your flushed cheeks. “I know you won’t want to, but you should go talk to him.”

-

Calum dropped you off at your and Luke’s shared place, staring at it as you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to just go up to the front door. “Bye, have fun!” Cal called out as he drove away, not giving you the option to really run.

You sighed defeatedly, stepping slowly towards the place. You bent down, grabbing the key from under the flower pot, unlocking the front door before stepping inside. It was eerily quiet, the sound of Luke’s piano playing in the distance as you noticed the house to only be slightly messy.

Papers strewn about the coffee table caught your attention and you walked towards it, sitting gently onto the white couch. You picked up the pieces of paper, fingers grazing against the ink smudges knowing Luke put his heart into this song Ghost of You.

Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side There's your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time If I can dream long enough, you'd tell me I'd be just fine I'll be just fine So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house with the ghost of you And I chase it down, with a shot of truth Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

Fresh tears were added to the paper, except these were yours. You placed the papers back in their original spot, covering your face with your hands as you silently cried. He wrote a song about me… Luke’s voice singing throughout the house made you peek your head up, missing the way his voice sounded but this… this sounded nothing like the Luke you knew. His voice cracked while singing the lyrics you just read, the sound of the piano softly playing along to his voice.

You pushed yourself up from the couch, following the sounds of his voice to find him sitting in front of his piano, singing his heart out as he was hunched over a bit. You bit your knuckles to stop yourself from letting out a sob, continuing to watch him until he finished. Your eyes moved to Petunia who was lying on her bed beside him, her head picking up at the sight of you.

She immediately got up, trotting towards you as you crouched down, petting her belly as she laid on her back.

The piano playing stopped as Luke noticed Petunia wasn’t in her bed, glancing behind him to see you crouched down by her, petting her. A sad smile came to his lips, wondering if you were actually here or a figment of his imagination.

“You came back?” His voice spoke out quietly and you glanced over at the blonde, seeing this tired blue eyes looking at you.

You pressed your lips together while standing up before making your way towards him, sitting down next to him at the piano. “I figured we needed to talk,” you mumbled, toying with your fingers as he nodded, the two of you facing the piano.

His slender fingers played with the keys, pressing one every minute or so as you sat in silence. “Calum said you were far from fine…” Luke trailed off, gazing down at you as you sighed, nodding your head.

“He’s right. I don’t think there’s been a time where I didn’t cry myself to sleep,” you explained furthermore. “He said you were a mess.”

Luke let out a dry laugh, biting his bottom lip before nodding. “He’s also right. I haven’t left the house unless it was to go to record or write, I-I stare at your side of the bed every morning and every night, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong,” he mumbled quietly, the crack in his voice returning.

“Luke… you didn’t do anything. I should’ve just talked to you about it, but I-I honestly thought leaving was the best choice for both of us. I realize now that it wasn’t the right choice,” you told him, scooting a bit closer as your hips slightly touched.

Your hands were in your lap as Luke looked down at you, taking a big risk and reaching over to grab your hand. He laced your fingers together, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you squeezed his hand. “Can you just tell me why? What your reason was? It’s been eating away at me for three months.”

“Well, the distance was one. I hated that you were gone most of the time, but I knew it was for what you loved and I was okay with it. Secondly, the cheating rumors. I know… I know you’d never cheat on me, but the pictures, th-they looked so real and I thought that I wasn’t good enough for you anymore. Lastly, your fans. They were great in the beginning, but I guess they shipped you more with Sierra than they did with me and they became hateful. Sending me threats and hate and it topped everything off. I-I had to do something,” you explained in more depth to him, your free hand fumbling with his fingers.

Luke sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your head. “I love you so much. I honestly don’t want anyone else in my life like you were. You were the one for me, you still are. I-I’ll say something to the fans, have you come with us on tour-,” he started listing off things and you briefly cut him off.

“Who’ll watch Piggy?” You asked, looking down at the bulldog-terrier who was sleeping in her bed.

“I’ll find someone. I don’t wanna be away from you anymore. I-I don’t wanna risk the chance of coming home for you not to be here again. Please… please come home. Come back to me,” Luke whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“Of course I’ll come back. You’re my home, Luke. I’m sorry for leaving. If I could go back in time I’d change the way I handled it,” you mumbled, one of your hands resting on his chest. Luke pulled away from you, getting up as you curiously glanced at him, wondering what he was doing.

He picked you up bridal style, a small squeal leaving your lips as Luke carried you to the bedroom, Petunia following you. You hid your face in his neck, taking in his wonderful scent as you missed it so much.

Luke set you down on your side of the bed, moving some of your hair from our face before laying down beside you. His hands reached for your waist, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered as he combed his fingers through your hair.

You turned your head to look at him, leaning on your elbow before dipping down to press a kiss to his lips. Luke let out a small moan, his large hand resting on your cheek as he began kissing you back, missing the feeling of your lips against his.

Luke flipped you over, hovering over you as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers running through his curls as your heart fluttered. He pulled away, breathing heavily as you slowly opened your eyes.

“I’m glad I’m here too. I missed everything about you.”

Taglist: @honeymoonmuke @gotta-try-something-new @thebookamongmen @dashlilymark @ashs-cheergirl @lukeskisses @shower-me-with-roses

[smolfangirl]

A little fresa wedding II

Hello hello I am leaving this here so @miris-xo is too busy to murder my duck :D Though I also have to thank her, for bearing with me during my “I hate everything about this part” phase, my endless messages of possible wedding dresses and all the other things I put you through. Without you, this wedding truly wouldn’t happen! And I could still look at Rugge in a bathrobe...

Special Thanks go out to @lightwoods5ever for being the exact beta reader that I needed in that moment, I love you more than I love koalas ♥

And surprise, surprise, the same procedure as every year post: @ac-ars and @sky-girls used the name Rory first. I used my own brain to end up with this name (also because of my roommate who is obsessed with Gilmore Girls and keeps trying to talk me into watching it), which is why I didn’t give them any credit.

Word count: 2.7k

///

Pt. III - Getting ready

Since she woke up from her nap after breakfast, Aurora loves to play with the buttons of Matteo’s shirt. Her baby fingers constantly reach out for them, tossing on them, while he holds her in his lap.

Opposite to them, Gastón leans against the window frame, where he checks the view and throws a glance at his watch every few seconds. “The photographer is late,” he states, clearly annoyed.

“Will you relax?” Matteo asks, bouncing his daughter on one leg now, laughing along with her. “It’s been five minutes, there’s still plenty of time.”

“I should relax, that’s priceless,” he mutters under his breath. It’s been going on like this all morning – given his behavior, it’d be easy to think Gastón was the one who got married today, not Matteo. “I am relaxed,” his best friend continues, “but shouldn’t you be nervous? Just a little? Or did you spend all of that on your proposal?”

“Haha, had a clown for breakfast again?”

Gastón has a point though. Back when Matteo planned to ask Luna the big question, he had no chill whatsoever. Zero chill, really. It was a miracle to him how his best friend endured all the second-guessing and doubting and overthinking over every single tiny little detail. While Gastón listened to all his whining, he never complained. Too much.

“No, I mean it,” his best man now says. “Aren’t you afraid she changes her mind and dumps you at the altar?”

Matteo chuckles, then shrugs. “Nope, not really. She loves me too much,” he explains, copying the grimace Rory pulls at him before he snickers at her frown. “The only thing I’m afraid of is this little one here. Hm, Lily Aurora, don’t cause daddy any trouble today.” Lifting her so she can gawk back into his eyes, he puts on his most serious expression. “Will you promise?”

Her answer is to spit all over his shirt.

“Nice,” Gastón comments, although his laugh cuts off half the word.

A sigh hushes over Matteo’s lips while he gets up to clean what’s left to save in the bathroom. “At least it’s not the shirt Luna has to see me in.”

///

Of course, his daughter holds her own opinions on acting well-behaved even after ruining his favorite sleeping shirt.

He’s not done yet scrubbing her spit out of his shirt when her high-pitched voice cuts through the silence, abruptly ending it. With curses muttered under his breath, Matteo runs back into the room, where he finds Gastón cooing over his goddaughter.

“Don’t bother,” Matteo tries to tell him over the screams and cries while he strokes the back of his little girl. “When she screams like this, she’s hungry, so the only thing we can do is get her to…”

Knock knock.

“Matteo? Gastón? Can I come in?”

“Luna,” he finishes. By then, Gastón already jumps at him and covers his eyes with his hands, effectively taking his vision. “What the…”

“You can come in!”

The door opens. Frantic breaths panted into the air. The sound of a long skirt brushing over the floor. Little footsteps, as if Luna wore no shoes.

Just the possibility of her wearing her dress already makes his heart skip a beat. Not a single hint at how it looks has passed her lips in the last months, not that he doubts it will be anything but breathtaking. Maybe she’ll go with a glamorous look close to the ones she pulls off for the red carpet every single time, or maybe she’ll look like the princesa from his songs – either way, Matteo isn’t sure how he will be able to keep the tears away when he finally sees her.

“Let me get her,” he hears Luna saying, and perhaps it’s a good thing Gastón sticks his sweaty palms on his face. In her arms, their daughter already calms down, or at least enough for his best friend to scold the bride. “You could’ve ruined the whole surprise, moon girl! Why didn’t you send Nina over? Or one of the bridesmaids?”

“She’s getting her hair done right now, I thought it’d be faster this way.”

During the short silence that ensues, Matteo wonders if his best friend is shaking his head in disapproval. He feels stupid, too impatient to sneak a glance at his soon-to-be wife, but unable to see anything except darkness.

And he didn’t even get a chance to put his shirt back on.

“You do look beautiful, though.”

Matteo groans. “Just shut up, Gastón.”

Before he can reply, a small hand suddenly rests on his shoulder for support, and soft lips press a kiss on his cheek. “See you later, chico fresa.” Then, the door closes, and Rory’s whines fade and fade.

Sighing, Gastón releases Matteo out of his grip and lets himself fall on the bed. “You two will make me lose my sanity today.”

///

She wrote the note for him early in the morning.

When she woke up and Nina left to pick up breakfast, the sun still stood low enough to hit her directly through the window, dancing over her face. Her maid of honor told her to get ready for plates of croissants and scrambled eggs and whatever else she desired, but Luna already knew she’d only nibble on some toast.

Grabbing a piece of heavy paper from the drawer of the hotel desk, she sat down on the antiqued chair, thoughts lost in memories of last night. Sneaking outside with him, hand in hand. Watching the stars, too happy to find a single thing to ask them for. Soaking in his warmth, hearing his every breath in the quiet night…

She’d write a whole essay based on these moments alone, but she had to keep it short and sweet in order to slip it under his door in time.

What Luna didn’t expect was to receive a gift in return.

The photographer just walked in as she hands her a little box, almost like the one from his proposal. “The groom asked me to give this to you,” she explains in a whisper. The smile sticks to her face before Luna even opens it.

There’s no ring inside.

Instead, it reveals a strawberry USB stick and a note telling her to play it. She can’t get to the radio station fast enough.

///

The first song surprises her.

He isn't singing. Nothing but a piano tune fills the air, a melody she never heard before. Warm and light, she's sure it's a love song for his next album. It's not even the first demo of him that she listens to, but it messes with her heartbeat too much and brings tears to her eyes. For the first time today, she’s grateful for the waterproof make-up. Her bridesmaids watch her wipe back the teardrops, and Baby Aurora pats her hands completely out of rhythm, smiling. When Luna presses swift kisses on her daughter’s cheek, it turns into a happy giggle.

She plays the demo a second time, still unsure whether to smile or sob.

While the song starts again, Luna closes her eyes. Feels. Feels her chest tighten, and goosebumps running all over her body, down her arms, even to her legs.

Matteo hasn’t been much in the studio lately.

More than once did he mutter in helpless frustration how he much he missed those hours between microphones, guitars and scrambled notebooks, more than once did he convince her he had absolutely no time to fit a studio session in between preparing the wedding and spending time with his chica fresa.

She wonders how he managed to record just a sample like this, or when he composed it.

On second thought, however, it doesn’t matter much. What matters is his gift, the effort he put into making her smile, into soothing her jittery nerves on this day.

When the song fades out, familiar tracks follow it. Half of them are from her favorite relaxing playlist – they help her to take a deep breath and enjoy being treated like a princess. The other half, however… He made a chronology of their relationship, told by songs he wrote for her throughout their lives, from the very first one to the one from his last album that she played for two weeks straight.

Those help a little less with calming down.  

///

She gasps when she sees herself in the mirror for the first time.

Simple as it may be, her wedding dress fits her perfectly. The lace top clings softly to her body, while the skirt flows towards the ground like a waterfall, swaying when she whirls around. Her hair falls in curves down her back, the veil held in place by her braid crown. She told her make-up artist to go for something light, but when she sees the carefully placed shimmer highlighting her eyes, Luna can’t help but to feel like a princess. A fairy princess.

If she ever worried her look might not be stunning enough for Matteo, there’s not a single doubt lingering in the back of her mind anymore.

Turning around to her daughter, Luna smiles. “Do you think mommy looks pretty for your daddy?” Aurora sits on the floor, fingers wrapped around an old make-up brush, a focused frown on her face. So far, her little one followed her every movement instead of paying attention to the toys around her, even when the brush left a lasting impression, apparently. Luna hopes Rory will feel exhausted enough from the morning to sleep through the whole ceremony.

In this moment, however, her daughter stares back at her out of those intense brown eyes, taking everything in.

“Do you think daddy might cry?” Luna caresses her little cheeks, before she gently tickles her belly. Rory giggles.

There might be a happy tear in the corner of Luna’s eyes.

“I think Gastón made a bet with Ramiro over his reaction to the dress,” Nina chimes in from the chair by the window. The hairdresser is pinning the last strands of her hair into their designated space, and Luna’s bridesmaids snap some pictures of the process.

“Do you know what they bet for?”

Nina shakes her head, then quickly apologizes to the young woman finishing her hairstyle. “No, I thought it’d be better if I didn’t ask. If he loses we’ll find out soon enough.”

The photographer asks Luna to stand in front of the door for a few photos. She smiles for the camera and tries to keep her hands from shaking. “We’ll know anyway, one is too much of a sore loser and the other one too happy over being right about Matteo”, Luna jokes. But her laugh sounds nervous suddenly.

Her gaze hurries to the clock on her bedside table. There’s plenty of time left, contrary to all the haunting stories of hectic mornings and messed-up schedules she heard before. For all the anxiety and stress Luna expected, the hours before her wedding went surprisingly smooth.

Maybe too smooth?

Luna shakes her head. No, she won’t fret over a problem that isn’t one, she won’t freak out. Not everything had been perfect, anyway. Her chica fresa almost terrorized the whole house until she picked her up, the complaint from Gastón included. (Seeing Matteo shirtless made it worth it, though.) The photographer hadn’t been here quite on time. Shoes got mixed up, one even going missing, until Yam found it had been kicked underneath the bed.

No, it hadn’t been picture-perfect, but everything is still okay. Those incidents are meaningless, and Miranda is there to handle everything else. Luna will probably have forgotten about this moment of second-guessing by the evening and it won’t matter the same way it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is Rosecliff, is walking down the aisle to Matteo. Matteo.

Thinking of the promise she’ll make to him, of the beautiful unity they’ll build makes her feel like an over-excited teenager again.

And she loves it. (Him.)

///

Pt. IV - First look

The moment the wedding march begins to play, Matteo thinks there’s a real chance of him fainting. A smile covers his face, he can sense it tugging on his lips until his cheeks hurt, but the anxiety still bites into his bones, takes over his whole body.

His heart races in his chest, speeding up, faster and faster.

His legs feel weaker by the second.

His head is empty. Completely blank, a haunted house in a body full of emotions.

There’s so much happening inside him in every moment, he doesn’t know how to focus on anything happening around him.

Except when Luna appears in his vision, walking down the aisle.

Towards him.

Tears. They drown his eyes before he even fully sees her.

She’s beautiful, of course she is. His princesa, his moon, his sun. His everything. Endless dresses have graced her body, but this masterpiece becomes Matteo’s favorite one in an instant. It wears her name in the delicate movements of the skirt, in the simple yet elegant top, in the way it makes her look like she’s floating above the ground.

Every step towards him takes an eternity. Every second in which she smiles at him without being by his side makes him want to hurry to her. The only reason why he doesn’t is because his body is frozen on his feet.

Tears, and a hundred more in line, and he lets them.

Matteo imagined this moment often. Laying eyes on her in a gorgeous dress, thinking how she’ll soon be his wife. Thinking of the life they spent together already, the life they’d build from now on. He imagined it when he was barely 20 years old, struggling to fall asleep in the darkness of his room without her by his side. He imagined it with a bitter taste on his lips when they took a break and tried to figure out their careers instead of their relationship. And he imagined it while he planned his proposal, when it was the only picture in his head able to calm him down and tear his thinned nerves at the same time.

With so many scenarios for this unique moment of his life, he’s surprised that none of them live up to reality.

Nothing comes to his mind. No memories, no words, no pictures of their future, nothing but a hurricane of emotions crashing down on him.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

Luna reaches him. In his peripheral vision, her dad holds her hand and offers it to him, although Matteo is too charmed, hexed, starstruck by his bride to divert his attention from her. Her eyes brighten up at his touch, green and warm and filled with a love that burns every doubt or insecurity he ever had about their relationship.

“You are the most beautiful woman in this whole universe,” he whispers. With a chuckle, she presses a kiss on his hand. “So, you’re saying our daughter isn’t the most beautiful?” He follows her gaze towards their little chica fresa, sleeping in her stroller as if this wasn’t one of the most important days in the life of her parents.

Matteo grins. “Of course not.”

The officiant clears his throat. Matteo’s hand intertwines with Luna’s, and with one last smile to each other, they face the man about to marry them. “Dear friends and family, today we have gathered to celebrate the union off…”

A strange noise cuts through his voice. Loud, and rattling. The officiant falls silent, frowns. In the following seconds, Matteo can hear his own heartbeat. Nothing was supposed to go wrong today, absolutely nothing and yet they didn’t even make it past the formal opening of the ceremony. Shit.

The noise comes back. From behind him, familiar, like the taste of a missing word on the tip of his tongue. But he heard it before, he knows that much.

Luna did, too.

A third time. A snore. And another one.

Slowly, they take another glance at their daughter. Resting her head on the side, with eyes closed and relaxed, she looks too innocent to produce this kind of eruption. But she snores again, and there’s no doubt, their little one is the sound hazard for their own wedding.

Gastón bursts into laughter. Waves and waves of hysterical giggles break out of him, and every attempt to calm down fails before it even begins. Soon, Luna grins sheepishly as well, along with the rest of the wedding party.

In the end, the ceremony starts ten minutes later than planned. Rory notices none of that.

[xxdecipheringgravityfallsxx]

Good For You Gravity Falls Animatic idea.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bzl8kRD-kDY

^^^ Here’s the music I want to use! Just imagine it in your mind how awesome this would be.

I’m not talented enough to do this so I’m thinking about making a Multi animated Project!

Anyway here’s the idea. After college Ford has not only pushed Stan away, but he’s isolated himself from Ma and Pa Pines too.

So the opening of the animatic is Ma Pines getting a letter from Ford, saying he can’t make it home for their visit.

Then we cut to Ford working on the portal and he’s exhausted and tired and then all of a sudden he sees a transparent image of Ma Pines and then the vocals start.

Ma Pines:  So you found a place where the grass is greener And you jumped the fence to the other side Is it good? Are they giving you a world I could never provide?

While Ma Pines is singing this it flashes back to Ford getting into his car after he’s finished college and going to Gravity Falls.

Then we cut back to Ford by the portal

Ma Pines: Well I hope you're proud of your big decision

Ford is standing by the portal holding a wrench and trembling while staring at the transparent version of Ma Pines, 

Ma Pines: Yeah, I hope it's all that you want and more Now you're free from the agonizing life you were living before

Another flashback this time showing Ford being bullied by Crampelter and the other bullies.

Ma Pines: And you say what you need to say So that you get to walk away

Flashes to the scene where Ford says goodbye to Ma Pines and Pa Pines.

Then we cut back to Ford working on the portal, he’s dropped the wrench and transparent Ma Pines is slowly walking towards him, tears in her eyes and a scowl on her face,

Ma Pines: It would kill you to have to stay trapped When you've got something new

Transparent Ma Pines pulls out a postcard of Gravity Falls and rips it up in front of Ford.

Ma Pines: Well I'm sorry you had it rough And I'm sorry I'm not enough Thank God they rescued you

Transparent anomalies appear behind Ma Pines, and then Bill Cipher appears above Ma Pines, looking all huge and menacing like when the lyrics: Thank God They Rescued you are played.

Then suddenly they all vanish and Ford is left looking around with a paranoid expression.

The voice of Ma Pines still continue but we don’t see her just the vocals

Ma Pines:  So you got what you always wanted So you got your dream come true Good for you Good for you, you, you Got a taste of a life so perfect

Then we cut to Ford and Fiddleford working on the portal. And we see Bill Cipher behind them, right behind Ford’s head, hand on his shoulder.

Bill Cipher: So you did what you had to do Good for you Good for you!

Then it cuts to when Fiddleford quits. Fiddleford has just sat up after he’s seen what’s behind the portal and he turns to Ford ---

Fiddleford: Does it cross your mind to be slightly sorry?

Do you even care that you might be wrong?

Was it fun?

Fiddleford then pulls away from Ford, and gets up and walks away. He stops and turns around, gesturing with his arm in an angry sweep.

Fiddleford: Well I hope you had a blast while you dragged me along!

Then finally it cuts to Stan arriving at Ford’s house.

And Ford telling Stan to hide the journal.

Stan: And you say what you need to say And you play who you need to play!

Then it shows Stan taking out a picture from his pocket, and he’s holding it and it’s a picture of them when they were younger standing on the Stan O’ War.

Stan: And if somebody's in your way Crush them and leave them behind

when Stan says crush: He crumples up the picture in his fist. And when he says leave them behind, he drops the picture and it falls to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Then Stan walks forward and behind Stan, Ford can see a transparent Fiddleford appear as well as Ma Pines. Stan, Fiddleford and Ma Pines: Well I guess if I'm not of use Go ahead, you can cut me loose!

Stan is holding the journal now and he has the lighter, and the transparent Ma Pines and Fiddleford do the cutting their necks gesture, standing besides Stan when the vocals say: Cut me loose!

Stan, Fiddleford and Ma Pines: Go ahead now, I won't mind!

Ford is watching in terror as Stan brings the flame closer to the Journal, and Stan hesitates seeing how terrified Ford is. Stan moves the flame away from the journal and takes a step towards Ford.

Ford scrambles back and he’s trembling violently as he then sees another transparent figure join in. Pa Pines, who is floating over Stanley, staring down at him like he’s disappointed in him.

Pa Pines: I'll shut my mouth and I'll let you go Is that good for you? Would that be good for you, you, you?

Then we flash to a scene where Ford is in his private studies, glaring at all his Bill Cipher artifacts he has.

We then see transparent figures of Ma Pines, Pa Pines, Stan and Fiddleford behind him still singing:

Ma Pines, Pa Pines, Fiddleford and Stan: 

I'll just sit back while you run the show Is that good for you?

Would that be good for you, you, you? 

I'll shut my mouth and I'll let you go Is that good for you? Would that be good for you you, you?

Then we cut to Ford front view on his face and he’s tightly clutching the third journal in his hands, trembling with unshed in his eyes. His hair is unkempt and his eyes have black bags under them.

Ford doesn’t sing here but you can hear the vocals as his thoughts.

Ford’s toughts: All I need is some time to think But the boat is about to sink  

When these lyrics are said: But the boat is about to sink.

We cut to a nightmare like vision of Ford standing on the beach reaching out to Stanley, as Stanley is on the Stan O’ War, looking terrified and he’s looking back at Ford. Stanley is quite away out and a huge wave is crashing down on him and a storm is brewing around them.

And when it says: Sink - the wave swallows Stan and the Stan O’ War up.

We then snap back to Ford in his study, he’s hunched over his desk, staring dismally down at his 3rd journal.

Ford’s thoughts: Can't erase what I wrote in ink

We then see a tear splatter the page, as it’s the page he had drawn the Stan O’ War on but scribbled the picture out.

Ford’s thoughts: Tell me how could I change the story?

Ma Pines, Pa Pines, Fiddleford and Stan are still there singing:

I'll just sit back while you run the show Is that good for you? Good for you?

Ford’s thoughts: All the words that I can't take back

Flash back to Ford pushing Stan against the couch as the vocals lyrics: All The Words I can’t take back - plays.

Ford’s thoughts:  Like a train coming off the track 'Cause the rails and my bones all crack

We cut back to Ford standing in his lab as he takes a step back from his desk, looking down at his trembling hands.

Ford’s thoughts:

I've got to find a way to Stop it, stop it! Just let me off!

Ford then reaches out and strikes the journal, the ink and a Bill Cipher artifact off the desk along with some papers.

The papers fly everywhere and Ford sinks to the floor, covering his face with his hands, sobbing.

All the while the transparent figures of Ma Pines, Pa Pines, Fiddleford and Stan are closing in.

Then we finally cut back to Ford and Stan in the basement and they’re fighting over the journal.

Then it’s just the transparent figures of Ma Pines, Pa Pines, and Fiddleford floating above and by Stan and Ford as they fight.

Ma Pines, Pa Pines, Fiddleford: So you got what you always wanted So you got your dream come true Good for you Good for you, you, you Got a taste of a life so perfect Now you say that you're someone new! Then Stan gets burned against the machine, punches Ford and then he’s walking towards Ford while in rhythm to these lyrics:Good for you

Good for you Good for you Good for you!

And then finally when these lyrics play: So you got what you always wanted 

At this part: So you {{ We see Stan push Ford }}

got what you always - {{ Ford floating towards the portal and Stan panicking }}

WANTED {{ Ford being sucked into the portal right at the very last note of the song, with a bright flash of white light and then it fades to darkness then we see a single pic still pic of Stanley, looking dismally at Ford’s glasses on the ground while the credit song plays. }}

Yeh this is something I want to do.

[chroniclesofawkwardness]

Greg(g) and the Giant Peach

"Whelp, Gregg Allman died today."

This was not how I expected the silence to be breached. (I had to do a quick check of YouTube to confirm that Gregg spelled his name with two gs at the end. To those of you who grew up eating peaches or tied to the Whipping Post, I apologize.) It's not like "Ramblin' Man" was on the radio, or we were discussing icons of 70s rock music. My Uber driver and I had just reached one of those awkward lulls in conversation that so many people fear and so few can enjoy.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, both taken aback that Larry and his 4.8 stars had chosen to restart our conversation like this, and truly at a loss for words. The only thing I can think of that would have made Larry tell me that is that maybe I'd told him about my love of cooking, which sent his mind spiraling out of control until it crash-landed on a memory of the time he and his wife were in of Emeril Lagasse's restaurants in New Orleans and Gregg Allman happened to be there at the same time. Maybe Larry's wife (or Larry himself) had special memories of "Jessica," or "Melissa." (There's an original idea: Songs about girls.) Maybe these were not only songs the Allman Brothers sang, but also the names of Larry and his wife's daughters. I'll never know. I haven't had a chance to ride with Larry again. My snarky self wanted to say something terribly insensitive like, "Does this mean they finally caught the midnight rider?" For me, it's never "too soon" but I didn't think of it until after he'd already dropped me off, and I'd added a tip to the cost of my fare.

This missed opportunity left me wondering what it is about me that makes people like Larry seemingly want to tell me anything, or why finance representatives from Kroger want to approach me, a nondriver, about their credit card, with which I'd earn double fuel points...

I try not to be a dick most of the time, but I also don't have "Gullible Cherub" tattooed on my ass. Maybe it's in the way I present myself to the world. Maybe I smile too much, or it's because I have the genetic misfortune of being one of the few people 5'2'' Srinivas can look directly in the eye.

With all due respect Mr. Allman, I'll pass on your peach, and Srini, I'll pass on the credit card. Peaches have made me unreasonably uncomfortable for years, and my credit score has just risen by three points according to Credit Sesame. I don't want to mess with a good thing, and I've hated peaches (just peaches, not peach-flavored things) for so long, that I don't know how to function without the discomfort they cause me.

I can hear you saying, "How dare you to talk shit about the dead. Gregg was just doing what he loved. How many concerts have you given? How many albums have you released?" The answer would be zero and zero respectively. Before you label me as a hater, hear me out. In a strange way, Larry's random comment about Gregg Allman's passing brought me some hope. I began to think that maybe my irrationally strong disdain for peaches may be misplaced. I'm just entertaining the thought, I'm not ready to have a come-to-Jesus moment with peaches, and break down sobbing like someone who's just been saved as a consequence of a Mormon baptism, or just watched the end of "The Shawshank Redemption." I still need my pain, like Dr. House. But, if The Allman brothers can get away with creating an album called "Eat a Peach" where cover art is little more than a truck with a giant fucking peach in the back, and songs about girls like Melissa and Jessica when that's the last thing the world needs, maybe I can get away with writing this book. In the beginning, the odds have to be stacked against any song or book being written, or album making it out of the studio. If Gregg can do it, there's no reason I can't too.

My dad's name is also Greg, but with one g at the end. He was never a big fan of the Allman Brothers Band. Or, more accurately, if he was, he never admitted it to me. I don't have any memories of us bonding while cruising down the highway in his 1987 Cutlass that permanently smelled of cigars with "Ramblin' Man" blaring on the stereo. He preferred to butcher either "Witchy Woman" by The Eagles or "Barbara Ann" by The Beach Boys while behind the wheel. He never read Roald Dahl's "James and the Giant Peach" to me. And that's okay. He would just ask me how school was a dozen times a day without even looking up from the newspaper, and then pose the same question (or tell my mom to ask me) an hour later as if nothing ever happened.    

I do remember one of his, particularly odd attempts at father-son bonding.

When I was about eight years old. He came to my bedroom door at the crack of dawn on a Wednesday and whispered my name.

"Dave... Hey Dave... Are you awake?"

"What is it, dad? I have to get up for school soon."

"I thought I'd show you how to use the jumping boards on Super Mario Bros."

"What? Why? Er... Okay. I guess..."

I was surprised he'd taken an interest in me for any reason other than my report card. Even my eight-year-old self knew that was messed up. Still, I thought I'd better take advantage of the opportunity to spend time with my father over something asinine before I did something equally or even more mundane in the days to come, like forgetting to get ground beef out of the fridge so it would be thawed out in time for dinner. In most corners of the universe, this would be considered a minor annoyance, but in our house, it would be enough to cause Greg to pout (or do whatever it was that he did) for an extended period of time. If I did anything he didn't like, he would most likely retaliate by not speaking to me for days on end. Given my well-documented issues with timely flesh removal, eight-year-old me must've been like:

"Screw it. He feels sorry for me and my Mario struggle. The least I can do is humor him by pretending to pay attention for five minutes. He's seen me hopelessly bouncing straight up and down on those stupid jumping boards for weeks. I'm lucky he even lets me play Nintendo. He once threatened to ban me from playing almost as soon as we took the console out of the box since I threw away the receipt for it before we were even out of Toys 'R Us. (When I heard that Toys 'R Us would be closing all of its stores, the receipt incident came back to me.) I shouldn't deny him the chance to shoot his parenting shot. After all, he did play with my character on The Legend of Zelda last week. My guy's wearing white armor now instead of the beginner's green. He's trying, at least in Nintendo's 8-bit fantasy world. This means he can't be an irredeemably terrible person in real life, right?"

Well...

Disclaimer: My eight-year-old self was capable of deep thought, but I don't know if I could have spelled irredeemably correctly at that point in my life. That said. thirty-eight year old me thinks polysyllabic adjectives are sexy.

You're welcome.

I'm sure Gregg Allman brought joy to his fans, and no one should be disparaged for doing something he or she enjoys. The last time I saw the other Greg, his first words to me were, "Dave, I left my goddamn clothes at home." Not, "Hi son. How's it going," or "How 'bout a hug?" Nope. "Dave, I left my goddamn clothes at home." I haven't spoken to my father in almost six years you see. He lives in Indiana with his wife that he met online before it was cool. I don’t need all of the fingers on both my hands to count the number of times I’ve seen him in the past twenty years. To be honest, given both the spatial and temporal distance between us, if he actually tried to hug me or ask me about my life, I'd probably just run for the nearest set of headphones to avoid answering the question or feeling the awkward embrace. I'll take my goddamn clothes, thank you. Anything less would be obviously atypical and ineffective. I had no desire for a picket fence or games of catch in the front yard. I don't feel cheated because we didn't sing along together to Jessica or Melissa. Greg taught me a valuable lesson. Life's not fair. People don't always get what they deserve. They get what they get. Wait... Did I learn that from my dad, or a TV show? It's hard to say. Greg had a nearly thirty-year career in law enforcement and corrections, which meant he was constantly surrounded by people who had made horrible decisions, thus he had ample opportunities to pass real-world wisdom on to his sons instead of watching them soak up the Hollywood-crafted kind. Still, it's hard to take someone seriously who's biggest regret is never having been featured on COPS.

I know now that if you're going to be successful using the jumping boards in Super Mario Bros., you have to get a running start in order to clear the obstacle that demands their use, but I still don't know why strangers who drive me around when I request rides through ridesharing apps like Uber and Lyft seem to have an easier time opening up to me than the man whose roof I lived under for eighteen years. Maybe I'll never know. I think the difficulty knowing lies in the burden of expectation. Watching too many movies made me think, as a child, that my dad would one day come home and play catch with me, or at least encourage me to get involved in team sports. Watching too many Ohio State football games made my dad wish I'd grow up to be the Buckeyes' next great middle linebacker. Neither of us lived up to the expectations one supposedly had of the other, but I suppose the greater tragedy is not living up to the expectations you place upon yourself, or not having the courage to place expectations upon yourself at all. Sometimes, you just have to cut ties with people who don't want what's best for you, even if that person is a member of your family.

I don't hate my father, but he's a stranger to me, just like Gregg Allman, and the Uber driver who told me of his passing. All three men are parts of my past.  Do memories twist, and fade? Sure. I hope that when Greg dies, I don't have to hear about it from a stranger, but I'm prepared for the possibility, and I'm fine with that. A coworker once told me that holding a grudge is like letting someone live in your head rent free. If that's true, may the floodgates of revenue open soon. I don't hold grudges, I hold stories.

Thanks for the memories Gregg. Thanks for the memories, dad.

[midnightcrowisabadname]

Of Stolen Glances and Faked Smiles Chapter One

Decided to post the actual fic now that it’s reached 11 chapters.

The alley stank of garbage and cigarette smoke, if anything it actually smelled better than it normally did, yesterday's rain had washed away some of the stenches. It would be even worse tomorrow when the trash began to rot and grow mold from being wet, so I made a mental note to avoid it tomorrow if I even came this way at all. All alleyways and back routes through Sterling were the same, covered in rotting food and broken trash bags that the hungry would rifle through if they were desperate enough. I'd nearly stooped that low once or twice but the vile odor caused my stomach to lurch and any interest in eating to fade.

I'd swiped food from restaurant trashcans after watching for an employee to toss out the unsold hamburgers from that day, and despite being cold and slimy, they tasted heavenly. Living on the streets for several months really changes your perspective on food and something you thought you would never touch becomes a five-star meal if you haven't eaten in days. I was reaching that point now, the last thing I'd eaten was a granola bar I'd bought with a wet dollar I'd found, and that had been the day before yesterday. My stomach hadn't felt full in weeks and the gnawing pain of hunger often prevented me from getting a full night's sleep, if attempting to sleep outdoors didn't do the trick. Last night had been especially hard because both the bench and my clothes were soaking wet, and each gust of wind only made me colder, I'd woken up with a sore throat after barely two hours of rest and felt even more tired than before I'd slept.

Shivering slightly I returned my gaze to the alley entrance and continued scanning the crowd of people, there were those who looked like obvious tourists and others who navigated the busy street with elegance from years of living there. Only a few people stood out to me as possible targets but they either were walking with someone or looked too scary to approach, not a good night for stealing I thought with a sigh. I'd practiced picking pockets several times within the past few months and managed to be successful and snag some loose cash and even a whole wallet once, although there hadn't been much in it and the credit card had been canceled before I could use it much.

A tall man passed by my hiding spot looking as though he'd tried and failed to be inconspicuous, he wore a dark gray peacoat along with a red beanie that hid his hair, and a matching scarf despite the fact it was warm for November. What really made the person stand out was the expensive-looking sunglasses perched on his pale, thin nose; sunglasses, at nine o'clock at night like that weird song mentions. Yeah, there were bright signs and streetlights, but unless this man was extremely sensitive to light the glasses were there for a different reason, or so I guessed.

I honestly just wanted to follow him because of how outrageous he looked, but the leather wallet sticking out of his jeans pocket didn't hurt either, my stomach rumbled just thinking about food. I slipped into the crowd, coughing into my sleeve as I worked my way slowly nearer to the strange man, watching him out of the corner of my eye in an attempt stay out of his sight. Neon signs flashed advertisements and the smell of fried food made my mouth water as I stalked my mark for several blocks through the crowded city streets, hadn't I just thought it was warm out? Maybe the setting of the sun had cooled everything down because my teeth started chattering, I really hoped I wasn't getting sick.

After a while, the man pulled out his phone before darting into one of the many side streets that ran through the city like a labyrinth of stone and asphalt, I walked faster, not wanting to lose him and any chance of picking his pocket. The thought of another night without food was enough to make my feet pick up the pace almost of their own accord and I'd just entered the alley when a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and dragged me farther inside. My first thought was to cry out, but a gloved palm slapped down over my mouth and a deep, sultry voice whispered in my ear.

"Who are you, what do you want from me? How did you recognize me?" The man's tone was harsh and inquisitive as he spun me around to face him; the oversized sunglasses were gone and I could see his face in full, horrifying detail. I recognized those piercing blue eyes, the sharp cheekbones and the angles of his pale, thin face; hadn't I memorized it all those years ago? His tall, lanky frame made sense now, sculpted for years so as to look perfect onscreen, and I knew that the absurd beanie he'd worn was to keep his distinctive silver hair out of public eye.

I'd seen this man for years, in commercials and TV shows, movies and interviews; at least once a month it appeared on the cover of some magazine or in a newspaper. He was everywhere and inescapable even if you were a poor kid who couldn't afford a TV, let alone cable.

Ice seemed to flood my veins I stared at Victor Nikiforov, the world-famous and award-winning actor whom I'd idolized as a child and the realization of just what was happening finally sank in. He'd known I was going to rob him, he'd probably watched me follow him the whole time before coming down here to confront me, he'd probably called the cops by now, and hell they were most likely on their way to arrest me. Maybe prison wasn't as bad as people said it was.

Those blue eyes that made teenage girls swoon narrowed as he glared at me, shaking me by the shoulders. "I asked you a question, who are you? What do you want? An autograph? An interview? Who do you work for?"

I only realized my mouth was uncovered once I began coughing once again. Why did my throat have to hurt so much? Why was I sweating? "Please, I swear I didn't... I was just hungry... I haven't eaten in days and I saw your wallet... Please don't send me to jail." I knew it was pathetic but I was terrified, this man who'd been on the top ten "Most Handsome Actors" list for the past six years was staring daggers at me and I had no way to defend myself.

His silver brows knitted together as though he were confused, but wasn't it obvious I had wanted to rob him? "You aren't paparazzi?" He looked me up and down as though only just now noticing my filthy jeans and sweatshirt that was now so discolored I didn't remember what color it originally was, not to mention there was no camera with me, hell I didn't even have a phone. "Who are you?" Victor asked again, clearly just as perplexed as I was.

"Yuuri, just Yuuri." No need to bring up any connections my last name might bring, but I should have given some other name.

The actor pulled his phone back out of his pocket, the latest model but with a case adorned with cartoon poodles, and spoke very fast in a language I assumed was Russian to whoever was on the other end, sneaking glances at me every few seconds as if afraid I might run away, which I probably should have. After a minute or so of a rushed conversation, I did attempt to edge slowly down the alley back out towards the street only to have my wrist grabbed before I got even a foot away.

"I don't think so," Victor had clearly finished talking and returned his attention to me. "Look, ‘just Yuuri,' I'm not letting you get away that easily. There's no guarantee that you're not wired with a microphone or hidden camera or something that will alert the press of my location and the last thing I want is some nosy, no moral idiot who thinks that owning a camera means instant fame." He was smiling still, but his eyes were cold and unforgiving; years ago, he'd played a detective who'd nearly gone to jail in pursuit of a criminal and the expression of forced politeness was eerily similar.

"I swear my only interest was the wallet, I didn't even know you were..." My head spun, the cool night air refreshing against my sweaty face as the realization hit me, my immune system was already in the toilet from living on the streets for months and spending the night in wet clothes must have been the last straw. I was sick, with what there was no way to tell, I'd probably been exposed to hundreds of diseases in the past week alone, and it seemed like I was about to pass out or get arrested in front of Victor effing Nikiforov. My breaths became shallow as my legs began to tremble and I fell against the alley wall, scraping my palms and coughing into my filthy sleeve. It was all over, I'd done my best but there was only so much a child who'd been unwanted from the start could achieve and I'd been lucky to make it this far.

Through the haze clouding my mind, I registered someone grabbing me, lifting me to my feet and practically carrying me into a car, and then the door slammed and shocked me back to my senses. Breathe, just breathe, I could still prove I hadn't done anything wrong; intent to rob someone isn't actually robbing someone, right?

"What's wrong?" Victor was in front of me again, a look of concern replacing the suspicion and irritation that had been there up until now.

I took a deep breath or as deep a breath as I could take since my lungs didn't seem to want to work without coughing, my vision getting blurry as I slumped sideways on the car's wide leather seats.

"You're burning up!" How did he know that? I hadn't felt him touch me. "Yuuri, what-"

My eyes slid shut.

"Yuuri, why are you crying?" Mama Katsuki stroked my head as I sobbed, tears and snot dripping down my face.

"I broke it. It was important to you and I broke it." The vase lay in pieces on the ground, shards of glass, crushed flowers, and water already soaking into the carpet.

"Did the glass cut you?" She pried my small hands from where they clutched my pants and forced them open so she could inspect them. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, shoulders trembling.

"Then it's ok, it's just a vase Yuuri, I can always get another vase but you are irreplaceable," she lifted my chin so I was forced to look her in the eyes. "You are important Yuuri, and

I care far more about you than I ever could an object, never forget that."

I woke warmer and more comfortable than I had been in a long time, but at the same time everything hurt; my head was pounding and every muscle ached as though I'd done a serious workout. What had happened to me? I opened my eyes slowly and immediately regretted it, the lights were too bright and the ceiling and walls too white and reflective.

"You're awake." I cracked one eye open in the direction of who'd spoken; it hadn't been a dream at all, I'd wanted to rob Victor Nikiforov and instead I'd fainted in his car. "You're lucky it's just a cold, although the doctor said you're dehydrated and severely malnourished, so that made things worse and it will probably take you longer to recover."

"Is this a hospital?" My voice was hoarse and my throat felt raw.

"No, this is my place, you may not be paparazzi but that doesn't mean ‘Victor Nikiforov Rushed into Emergency Room' wouldn't show up in papers somehow." The actor sat in a plush armchair next to the bed, one leg crossed over the other in a gesture that seemed both relaxed and confident at once.

My shirt felt weird and I glanced down at my chest to see someone had changed my clothes, I was now in clean pajamas and it looked like someone had at least attempted to clean the dirt off my skin. "You believe me?"

"There were no wires in your clothing, no microphones or cameras either; there was also no chance of those clothes ever becoming clean again so I had them thrown out. You can thank me later."

I coughed again, a bitter taste filling my mouth. "Why are you helping me? Why not just turn me over to the police?"

"Because I want to listen to your story before I decide what to do with you, I'll admit I'm curious to know how a twenty-year-old kid ended up on the streets and resorting to theft in order to survive."

My cheeks felt warm at the thought of telling this man, a famous actor who most likely never had to work another day in his life if he so desired; we were as different as we could possibly be, and he knew it too. "Can I have some water first?" My tongue felt heavy and dry in my mouth and I knew I wouldn't be able to talk much if I didn't drink something. To my surprise Victor held out a bottle of water, cold enough for condensation to have formed on the outside of it, I drank nearly the whole thing, only pausing to cough after some of the stuff went down the wrong pipe.

"Slow down, it's not like I don't have more and I really don't want to have to deal with you throwing up in my apartment." I obliged, finishing the bottle in slow sips before handing it back to him.

"Thank you..." I couldn't look Victor in the eye, my story wasn't all that interesting if I was honest with myself, but if he really wanted to hear it...

"I'm not exactly sure where to start, but I've been on the streets for a few months now since the place I used to work for laid off all its employees when it was on the brink of bankruptcy. Since I couldn't pay rent my landlord kicked me out and I couldn't exactly get a new job thanks to the fact nobody wants to hire a twenty-year-old with no degree and no connections."

"Why couldn't you go back home?"

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat as I thought of what had once been my home, and I didn't realize I'd miss it that much. "I don't have a home anymore, I grew up in a group home and sadly once I turned eighteen and was legally an adult the government found an easy job for me and took me out of the system. Apparently being an orphan is expensive."

"You-" Victor tried to ask me something but I knew if he stopped me or changed the subject I might never be able to talk about this again.

"I don't know who my birth parents are, they're alive but that's about all I know besides the fact that they were probably teenagers who didn't want to take care of a child. The home had just opened and since I was the first child the owners took in they treated me like I was their child, even let me take their last name since I have no idea what my real one was, hell I didn't even have a name before arriving at the home." It was true, Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki had been as loving as any real parents could be, and a part of me really wished they had been my actual parents so I could stay with them forever.

"I was named Yuuri, meaning courage to win, although I'm not sure why they picked that name because I've never won anything, and courage seems like it has forsaken me, and I was the first child taken in by the Katsukis but I wasn't alone for long. For eighteen years I found some happiness in caring for the other children like they were my siblings; I didn't mind cooking dinner or other chores because it was the least I could do to repay the owners for taking me in."

"I studied hard in the local public school and graduated with high grades but college was never an option for me, not unless I somehow managed to get a scholarship to pay for everything, and even so I had no idea of what I'd even study. In the end, I was given a job as a secretary for some dentist's office and managed to survive week to week until I was laid off, which brings me back to why I tried to rob you and you, for some unknown reason, taking me into your apartment." I sighed, there wasn't anything more to tell Victor and I was sure he wouldn't be interested even if there were.

"That sounds like the plot for some made-for-TV movie." There it was, had he been paying attention at all?

"I know it's a lame story, you don't have to tell me that."

"Well I know it's the truth because I did some research on you before you woke up, there was no way of knowing what kind of thing you might tell me in order to gain my sympathy but you stuck with the truth not caring what I'd think." Victor smiled at me, his blue eyes peeking out from under silver bangs in a way I just knew he'd practiced multiple times. This man may have been an award-winning actor, but there were articles talking about how smart he was as well; he'd had no way of guessing what I might do so he tested me...

"Wait, you looked me up? How? I didn't give you my full name and-" out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar brown object on the side table next to the bed; instead of me stealing Victor Nikiforov's wallet he'd taken mine. He held up my learner's permit, I'd never actually tried driving but it seemed like the best form of identification I could have, and turned it over slowly.

"Yuuri Katsuki, male, twenty years old, birthdate..." He glanced up at me. "Is this your real birthday?"

"I don't know, I've never seen my birth certificate but it's the best guess I have."

"‘Assumed' birthdate is November twenty-ninth 1997, five foot eight, should I go on or can you trust that just knowing your name was enough for me to Google?"

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the suspense was killing me and he knew it. "What did you find out about me?"

"Not much more than you've already said, thankfully you have a unique name or I might not have found anything, but the internet doesn't really care unless something noteworthy happens, by the way, why did you name the picture you got in an art show ‘another bad self-portrait?'"

"Apparently just because I thought it was terrible didn't mean the teacher did, but it was a shitty painting and I didn't care about it."

"Aww, I thought it was cute."

I stared at Victor, wondering just what he wanted from me because he could have easily abandoned me somewhere after learning that I wasn't actually paparazzi. Apparently, he noticed my anxiety because he pressed one thin finger to his chin in fake contemplation, was I finally going to learn just what was going on?

"You don't seem like a bad person ‘Just Yuuri, you've been dealt a bad hand and been told to be happy about it, so you tried even though you're homeless and starving. You plaster a smile on your face because it's the best way to convince yourself that everything is all right, and nobody around you pays attention closely enough to consider it's all a façade and that you're close to breaking. You figure that you've been fortunate enough to make it this far thanks to the kindness of others and that asking for any more would be pushing your luck." Victor Nikiforov didn't sound like he was reading from a script; instead, it was as if he was speaking from his own experience.

"You know what ‘Just Yuuri?'" The actor turned to face me, a sad smile on his perfect face. "You're allowed to be happy, you're allowed to be greedy sometimes, and you're most certainly allowed to put yourself first because if you don't nobody will."

"How do you know that?" My voice was trembling now, all my strength drained from simply telling my story.

"Because I've felt similarly and although I've never lived on the streets and am famous now it doesn't mean that I started off great; in fact, the man you see now is the result of overcoming many hardships, which is why I want to help you."

What. He couldn't be serious. The Victor Nikiforov was not offering to help me and this was still some bizarre dream caused by sickness and hunger.

"I'll ask you this, Yuuri Katsuki: do you want to change?"