#David gets to help people. they forget about everything. so simple

[heliorite]

HOW'D YOU LIKE THE NEW PD EP <3 willotstreet

😁 NEVER BETTER. I'M SURE THIS WILL NOT HAVE LASTING EFFECTS. I'M SURE WILLIAMS ACTIONS WILL NOT HAVE CONSEQUENCES. 😁👍

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Don't You Forget About Me

Part One

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Description: Sometimes the most unlikely encounters with people have an immeasurable effect on your life. For Bradley Bradshaw, life at 22 right after graduating from college is far different than he ever thought it would be. It kind of seems like his whole life hasn't gone according to plan. No parents, no support system, just one man and his dad's old Bronco against the world. A chance meeting with a blond-haired teenage menace in Texas may just change everything, shaping his future in a way he never would have expected. Disclaimer: This is a Hangster story -> What you see is what you get, folks. Slight mention of homophobic/ lgbtq+ phobic family members. Word Count: 3624 Author's Note: Hiya! I wrote this fic for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event based on the song Don't You Forget About Me by the Simple Minds. Everything about it just screamed Hangster when I listened to it again. As anybody who knows me or has read my works can surmise... I can be quite long-winded so what was supposed to be a quick blurb turned into a short two-part series. I hope you all love this fic! (Also I'm self conscious about this one because I do not write in first person. It's surprisingly hard so I'd love any feedback if you've got it!)

It's dark and smoky and loud in here and I can't believe that I let Jessica and David drag me to this party. They've long since disappeared into the crush and left me on the under-stuffed chintz armchair in some frat house’s living room. It doesn't help that I haven't been to Texas in years and I feel even more like I’m out of my depths because of it. My mom grew up here, and most of her family is still here. But she's not. In the years since I graduated from high school, I've turned hundreds of times, looking for her sweet smile, searching for her to take solace in. But she's not exactly on this mortal plane anymore. Neither of my parents are. And the closest thing I've ever had to a dad fucked off after destroying my dreams.

It fills me with an unreasonable rage every time I think about it. I know Virginia, I've lived in Virginia for years, putting myself through school in Charlottesville while working single-mindedly to get into the US Navy. I’m so close to flight school that I can taste it. I just need to get through Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island now that I’ve graduated. One final summer of building my savings by working odd jobs and I’d be free. Or so I thought.

Then, I received a notice telling me my apartment building needed to be tented for termites. My lease was only valid until I left for OCS, anyway. I debated living out of my dad's car, now mine, until I had to be in Rhode Island. That’s when I received a letter from Stephanie Williams, my mom’s cousin, inviting me to spend the summer in Texas. Driving to Texas is far from convenient, but I haven't spent any time around my family, no matter how distant they may be, in so long. And, I’m kind of homesick - homesick for the sense of camaraderie, of walking into the house after baseball practice or school and hearing anyone in the house besides myself.

Jessica and David, Stephanie’s kids, are as nice as their mom. They both attend the University of Texas, but it still feels like there is a distance between us. They can't understand the drive burning in me about the Navy, how I need to do well at OCS, how I need to become an aviator, how I need to be better than anyone else. Aunt Steph doesn't really get it either if the way she practically pushed me out the door when Jess and David mentioned the party is any indication.

It doesn't help that I'm only a week from reporting to OCS, either. I know it’s not flight school, not yet, but I know I need to study more than I need to be in this stupid little ramshackle frat house on Greek Row. The beer’s watered down and warm, tasting like piss in my mouth. Normally, I’d be right in the center of the makeshift dance floor grinding up against the scantily clad girls in sight, most of them wearing bikinis, but not tonight. 

I just want to go home again, but that’s not possible. It hasn't been for years. I leave the mostly full beer behind and search for Jess and David. There are hundreds of drunk kids in the house, and it doesn’t matter at all that I’m taller than most of them, not when people are dancing on the tables and licking alcohol off of each other. I feel like I’m suffocating. The entire house stinks of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sweat. It takes fifteen minutes to look for either of them in the basement. When I’m halfway up the stairs, I’m tempted to leave them here and drive by in the morning to get them. But Aunt Steph would hate that.

The first floor is even worse than the basement. There may not be anybody dancing on the tables, but there is far more clothing being thrown about. It looks like there’s a drunken orgy happening in the living room on the floor. The carpet isn’t all that clean, to begin with, and add bodily fluids to it, and I nearly hurl on the spot. 

If this is what I’ve missed out on in the traditional college experience, well, I don’t want it, not at all. Thankfully, I don’t have to see either of my cousins naked and that eliminates the kitchen and living area entirely. All I have left are the bedrooms above. Just walking up the stairs, I can hear the creaking of bedsprings and lusty moans. It sounds like a contagious disease waiting to happen, and I don’t make it past the top step.

That’s it. I can’t search for Jess or David anymore and I fight my way to the front door while trying to ignore the tits that seem to get shoved into my face every few steps. As I open the door, a body slams right into me. It’s a kid, gangly and blond, knobby shoulders protruding sharply through the fabric of the worn t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” I can’t help the chuckle pouring out of my mouth. I’ve got at least 8 inches in height on him and I could easily break him into two if I wanted to. He must be ninety pounds soaking wet and his indignation is about as intimidating as an angry chihuahua. But I’m not looking for a fight, so I just move out of the way. Something about his angry green eyes and how they glow in the fresh night air is oddly captivating. I’m honestly not expecting to see him again, but just as I reach the Bronco and open the door, I see the same person get bodily chucked out of the house.

He’s shouting expletives into the night air, and when his anger runs out, he hunches his shoulders and stomps in my direction. Of course, a snarl rips out of his mouth the moment he sees me.

“What, asshole? Haven’t you seen someone get kicked out of a party by a bunch of dicks before?” 

“I have, kid. But I wanted to know if you were okay. Your knuckles look rough.” It’s true. His knuckles are bloody and bruised like he’s been punching something hard with no control. Those are going to sting like a bitch in the morning.

He snorts and must see something unassuming in my face because he uncrosses his arms and says, “I’m not a kid, I'm seventeen.” He’s a little young to be running around the UT campus and getting thrown out of parties, but I have the feeling if I say anything, he’ll probably just jump down my throat again. “I’m Jake.”

“Bradley.” I grin back. “Get in.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t get into cars with strangers.” He’s quick-witted, that’s for sure.

“No.” If my eyes roll as I look at Jake, that’s just between him and me. He must feel like shit if he hasn’t called me out for it yet. “I have a first aid kit in the glove box. I wanted to look at your knuckles before they scab over.” Jake looks shocked. I can almost see the gears grinding in his head as he thinks my words over.

“Move over.” I have to hide my grin until he’s safely in the passenger seat. I don’t know why it feels like such a victory, having this stranger accept my help. I leave the door open and lean in. He smells coffee and spice with an undertone of musk, sitting in my passenger seat with his eyes looking far too green in the low light.

“You don’t go to UT, do you?” Instead of responding, I just pop open the glove compartment and tug out the med kit.

“So what is this, Bradley?” He sounds disgruntled. “No answers without you taking care of my hands?”

I just hold my hand out until he puts his into mine. It’s a long-fingered hand, thin and bony. No well-fed eighteen-year-old boy has hands that look like this. Hands that look like they’ve been working every day of their life. I want to know why Jake’s got such a big chip on his shoulder and why someone so young has hands that look so worn.

“I’m really alright, you know?” I’m as gentle as I can be, patting at scraped knuckles with an isopropyl alcohol soaked cotton ball. Jake may talk a big game, but he’s wincing with each word. 

“Who’d you punch to fuck up your knuckles so badly?” 

“My asshole ex-boyfriend. He was cheating on me with one of his teammates. And I just found out today.” Jake’s voice chokes on a sob, and I can’t help the twinge of sympathy that goes through me at his words. Maybe I’m too quiet, because there’s a sharp tug on my sleeve.

“D’you have a problem with that?” Jake’s glaring at me, and it takes me longer than it usually would for me to figure out why.

“About the fact that you had a boyfriend?” He nods, the movement jerky and sharp. “Why would I care about that? You love who you love, that’s it.”

He looks blown away by my immediate acceptance of who he is. But Jake seems uncomfortable at the same time, uncomfortable enough that he changes the subject. “You never answered me earlier. You don’t go to school at UT.”

“No, I don’t.” I collect the trash into a small ball and put the kit away again. It feels weird to stand out in the night and talk when I have a perfectly good driver’s seat right on the other side of the car. I can already see a hundred questions on the tip of Jake’s tongue, so I hold one hand up and point to the trash bin nearby. I can feel every bit of his gaze on my back as I lope to the can and back, opting this time to get into the driver’s seat. Of course, no sooner am I buckled in, Jake’s looking right at me.

“Why are you here, then? Why were you at that party tonight?” I can hear the naked curiosity in his tone.

“I’m staying with some of my mom’s family over the summer. A couple of my relatives go to UT for school and invited me to the party. I just graduated from college and I’m joining the Navy in a week.” It sounds so real as I say the words. They sound equally real, it looks like, to Jake.

“Why the Navy?" I haven't felt like I'm the focus of another person in a long time. I feel flayed open, horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

My voice is quiet, a little rough, a little raw as I say, "My dad was in the Navy."

"What did he do?" I blink a little, not expecting this question so soon. Normally people want to know why my dad was in the Navy, in the past tense. They want to know what happened to him. They never want to know what he did or anything else about him.

"He was a Naval Aviator, a Radar Intercept Officer, to be specific." It makes me smile, like always, remembering my dad.

"What does a Radar Intercept Whatsit do?" Jake's nearly open-mouthed in the passenger seat, body turned my way in a jumble of limbs that looks nearly too cramped to be comfortable, beat up sneakers on the floor and wholly fascinated by every word pouring out of my mouth. That's unique too. I've never felt this rush, this instant connection before with anybody. 

"A Radar Intercept Officer," I repeat, earning myself an eye roll, "is the person sitting behind the pilot. They're responsible for enabling communications with ships and other jets, navigating and monitoring the radar. Pilots fly the plane, but RIOs do everything else." 

"Sounds boring." I have to chuckle at that, because when he's not angrily grumbling, Jake's actually handsome. And that's not a realization I ever wanted to have about a seventeen-year-old I just met. Forget the place, there's the matter of how this is all the wrong time, too. I can't afford any distractions, not even cute little twinks with more attitude than sense. I'm joining the military for fuck's sake. Don't Ask, Don't Tell is still very strongly enforced and Jake seems like the type to bulldoze his way on base one day just for the hell of it. Better stick to talking about flying, that's all. And that’s if we manage to stay in touch until he’s actually legal, too.

"Do you want to become a RIO too?" His voice is hesitant as he sounds out the acronym.

"Nah, I've always wanted to become a pilot. Actually fly the planes, y'know?" I swear I can see literal fighter jets flying around Jake's head, he's so enraptured by the idea.

"Is it hard?" 

I have to shrug at that, because maybe I just have flying in my blood. "Not any harder than learning how to drive or ride a bike - at least that's what it was like for me."

I can see Jake think of a few hundred more questions, but stop him with one of my own. "What’s a seventeen year old doing at a UT frat party?" 

 His nose crinkles, "Who said I’m not a student at UT?"

"Nobody. But something about you tells me that you aren’t a UT Student, even though seventeen-year-olds join universities as freshmen all the time." I’m almost afraid to see that look on his face. But instead, Jake seems to be feeling the same awe that I was earlier - horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

“Nah. I work at one of the coffee shops on campus.” No wonder he smells like cinnamon and coffee.

"But you don't want to, do you?"

His nod is sheepishly affirmative. "My uncle says I should get out of the house and do something with myself over the summer. If he had his way, when I graduate in a year I’ll be doing the same thing. But I want to do something exciting, not farm work or work in a factory or hell, even be a barista anymore. I think the Navy might be just the thing."

I have to grin at his enthusiasm. But a part of me can’t help wondering if the reason why Jake is so interested in escaping Austin is because of something else. But I’m not quite sure how to broach the topic. It’s silent and still in the car for a little bit. Jake looks like he’s thinking of what to say, and I’m struck by the halo the streetlight we’re under makes around his hair. He’s pretty, indescribably so, even with a purplish bruise rising on his cheekbone. His long lashes shine golden against the freckles dotting his cheekbones. I reach for the polaroid I always keep in the car and snap a couple of quick pictures. I hand one to Jake, but just as he’s about to ask me why I did that, I see red and blue lights in the rear view mirror and hear sirens blaring our way.

“Shit! C’mon, Bradley! Drive the car!” It takes me a few seconds to process what he’s saying but when I do, I put the car in drive and drive sedately down the street. 

“What the fuck, Brad!” I haven’t heard anyone call me Brad in years. That’s what my mom called me, what Mav did too. “Drive a little bit faster, why don’t you?! You keep driving like a fucking turtle and the cops will catch us in no time flat!”

“I’m driving at the speed limit.” I chuckle at the way Jake grumbles under his breath. “The police won’t pull us over if we’re doing everything right. You probably don’t want them calling your folks to tell them you were at a party, underage where alcohol was being served and an orgy was happening on the living room floor, now do you?”

We’re thankfully able to leave the scene without any trouble, and I let Jake direct me through the late night Austin streets. It’s quiet, and in the half-light I can’t help noticing how incredibly small and delicate Jake is at this moment. He has me pull over a few blocks away.

“Do you make a habit of running from the cops?” He laughs at that, a genuine belly aching infectious cackle bursting out of his mouth.

“No, I don’t.” Something dark glows over his eyes just as easily as the laugh. “My uncle wouldn’t have been happy at all if he had gotten that call.”

I really don’t know what to say to that, so I just wait.

“My mom always says that she doesn’t know who my dad was, and well, I don’t know if you know much about conservative Texans, but that was a no-go for most of my family. She’s out of state, working in a library in North Carolina, I think? And I’m with my aunt and uncle until I turn 18.”   

“I’m sure the minute that happens, I’m going to get kicked out. They didn’t approve of me just because I was born out of wedlock. They hated me even more when they found out I wasn’t exactly only into girls. My mom doesn’t know how bad it is for me here. And I’m not going to tell her either. I just don't know what to do.” He sniffles, sitting in the passenger seat, cheeks pinking in the glow of the streetlights. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you this either. But it feels like the universe wanted us to meet tonight. It feels like I can trust you.”

I’m struck dumb by those words and the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I’m flattered by his trust. It has me spilling all of my biggest secrets. I tell him more about my dad, about mom, about Mav. I tell him about my biggest victories and darkest regrets. We talk for hours, taking turns baring our souls until the sky turns gray at the edges. It's the small hours of the morning, that small section of the twilight zone where everything feels extra still. My throat is scratchy and my eyes are dry. Jake’s not much better.

The sleepy drawl in his voice makes shivers trail up and down my spine and it’s still so foreign feeling like this for someone I’ve just met. It’s a little terrifying, too. Far too soon, we’re pulling up in front of the party house. 

"I should get going." A part of me wants to stop him, offer to give him a ride, anything to stay in his presence just a bit longer. But the more rational part, the one chanting US Navy and Top Gun is screaming just as vehemently no.

"Do you need a ride?" My voice is nearly too loud for this time of night.

"Nah, Bradley. I live right around the corner." Jake gives me a two-fingered salute and begins to walk away, his shoulders bowed and looking incredibly small. It's a surprise when he stops, turns back around and jogs back to the car. He flings the door open, and I'm surprised to see the two spots of pink high up on his cheeks.

"Can we stay in touch? I'd love to pick your brain about the Navy, sometime?"

I'm nodding before my common sense can speak, ignoring the insidious little voice that says, "No you won't ever see him again. You're joining the Navy."

I hand Jake a pen and a scrap of paper I found in my pockets. What I get back is his first name and a phone number. "This is my landline. See you around, Bradley?"

My reply is too quiet as I roll the syllables of his name over my tongue. By the time Jessica and David have staggered their way out to the car, I'm sure Jake was just a figment of my imagination. Two weeks later, when it's my first turn with the phones on base, I call that number. I get a message telling me that the phone number I'm calling has been disconnected. I never get rid of that note though. It's almost like something's screaming at me to remember Jake. Maybe one day I'll find him again. And who knows? Maybe he's a lot closer than I think he is.

Nine Years Later

It’s been a long road getting to Top Gun. Walking through the halls it feels like everything I’ve worked and struggled for has finally paid off. I’m a pilot, I’m talented, if I do say so myself, and there is nothing I want to do more than finally put the Bradshaw name on that trophy. Walking into the classroom that first morning, I feel like this is the start of something great. Until the first hop later that week. There’s a blond in class with an ego that cashes checks for money he doesn’t have. But he has the skill to back up his words.

“Rooster, Rooster, Rooster. Are you ever going to get off your perch?” Hangman. Even his callsign fills me with rage. I’ve never met a more annoying person in my life. But there is something about him which seems familiar. Why does Hangman of all people seem so familiar? It’s a puzzle I can’t devote any time to solving. Not when I have to knock a blond idiot down a few pegs. I wonder what the Jake I met all those years ago would think about Hangman. I hope he’s doing well, wherever he is.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @cassiemitchell @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[harmonyspopculturecorner]

The Artful Dodger

!!SPOILER WARNING!!

I am a simple woman…if Thomas Brodie-Sangster is in something, I will watch it. He has been a favorite of mine for many years, and I can always trust the projects he’s involved in to be great. This show was no exception. Not only does Thomas Sangster play an amazing Jack Dawkins, but add in Maia Mitchell as Lady Belle, and David Thewlis as Fagin, and you’ve got a cast that works seamlessly together to bring these characters and story to life. I’m not the biggest Charles Dickens fan, but being a reader, of course I know the story of Oliver Twist. Then we have this show, which follows a character I know many people loved from the original, Jack Dawkins, 15 years older and trying to leave his life of pickpocketing behind to become a surgeon who challenges the status quo in a colony in Australia. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of this show with the perfect mix of period and medical drama that added in elements of romance and the world of crime. Each character was well written and showed loveable aspects of themselves while also not shying away from the fact that they have their flaws. Jack cares about helping people, but he also struggles with his past and the urge to return to crime. Fagin, while seemingly good-hearted, is also very selfish and doesn’t always think of how others might be impacted. Belle is ahead of her time, wanting to be in the world of medicine and make progress, but forgets how privileged her life is being the daughter of a governor. These three are truly the heart of the show, but that’s not to say the other characters also didn’t display the same well-roundedness. Everything was well paced and each storyline built up the characters and the world this show takes place in. Overall, this show was a masterpiece, and I can only hope that it gets the love it deserves so that we may see more of this story unfold.

[daimonclub]

Market financial and business news

Market financial news Market financial and business news, an article with some quotes, tips and very useful Dukascopy Bank widgets to inform you on the most important updated economic world financial news. Personal finance is only 20% head knowledge. It’s 80% behavior! Dave Ramsey It’s simple arithmetic: Your income can grow only to the extent that you do. T. Harv Eker Money, like emotions, is something you must control to keep your life on the right track. Natasha Munson Opportunities come infrequently. When it rains gold, put out the bucket, not the thimble. Warren Buffett In fact, what determines your wealth is not how much you make but how much you keep of what you make. David Bach A big part of financial freedom is having your heart and mind free from worry about the what-ifs of life. Suze Orman Don’t tell me what you value, show me your budget, and I’ll tell you what you value. Joe Biden Beware of little expenses. A small leak will sink a great ship. Benjamin Franklin A budget tells us what we can’t afford, but it doesn’t keep us from buying it. William Feather Money isn’t everything, but it’s right up there with oxygen. Zig Ziglar A man who does not plan long ahead will find trouble right at his door. Confucius Make sure you have financial intelligence… I don’t care if you have money or you don’t have money… you need to go and study finance no matter what. Daymond John You can have excuses or you can have success; you can’t have both. Jen Sincero Tough times never last, but tough people do. Robert H. Schuller The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing. Walt Disney Like it or not, money makes the world go round. It provides you with basic necessities and helps you achieve your savings goals. Unfortunately, money doesn’t grow on trees. That's why market, financial, and business news are crucial for making informed investment decisions. By staying informed on these fronts, investors can make better decisions, manage risks, and capitalize on opportunities. So you must be well informed about trends, sentiments and economic indicators. Market news provides insights into overall market trends and investor sentiment, which can influence stock prices. Then information on economic indicators (e.g., GDP growth, unemployment rates) helps investors gauge the health of the economy, which affects investment choices. As far as financial news they concern companies performances, and they includes earnings reports, financial statements, and performance metrics of companies. Analyzing this data helps in assessing the profitability and financial health of a company. Don't forget top watch carefully their valuation, since updates on stock valuations and comparisons with industry peers help investors determine if a stock is overvalued or undervalued. Last but not least there are business news, such as industry developments. 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It streams announcements and articles on Forex and commodity markets, companies and stocks, and global economies from approximately 500 news providers, including central banks, credit rating agencies, auditors, stock exchanges, and major news agencies such as Reuters, MarketWatch, and CNBC. The live stream is available in 22 languages. The Market Summary widget gives a quick overview of the latest developments in various Forex instruments and commodity, stock, and index CFDs. As such this widget incorporates four others – Live Quotes, Average Spreads, Daily Highs and Lows, and Sentiment, thus aggregating the data on latest bid and ask prices and trading volumes, average spreads for different time frames, high and low prices for selected dates, and current differences between buy and sell positions. 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[earnestly-endlessly]

hey!! Your fic recommendations are always elite–I was wondering if you had any kid fics, thank you <3

Hi anon. I have plenty of kid fics for you. Since you didn't quite specify what kind of kid fic you wanted I decided to divide it into fics where Charles and Erik are kids or get deaged and fics that involve kids. This is kind of a long list so I hope that there are plenty of new fics for you to read.

Cherik Kid Fic

--They are kids or get deaged--

Conspiracy of Kisses - Alaceron

Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.

Chasing After You - Alaceron

Summary: Charles isn't very good at tag. Erik helps

We’ll be the sum - afrocurl, ninemoons42

Summary: In between bouts of blanket burrito-ing and vegging out on movies, Charles and Erik figure out how they currently feel about each other.

Of course, they're schoolboys and they're on a sleepover and also Edie dotes on them both excessively, so things work out just fine.

Growing pains - ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Valentine’s day – ikeracity

Summary: Kid fic! Erik waits impatiently all day at school to give Charles a card for Valentine's Day. Maybe Charles has something for him too...?

Now You Know You Know it Now – luninosity

Summary: Erik’s not sure why he keeps glancing at the other boy. Not as if Erik likes other kids, or other people in general, for that matter. But still—he finds himself looking. Again.

This Family Comes with Batteries - Fishwrites, lynneh

Summary: An orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles' robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.

You’re Not Doing This Alone – flightinflame, Lynds

Summary: What's meant to be a simple recruitment mission leads to both Erik and Charles being de-aged back to thirteen years old. Terrified and out of their depth, the boys try to hide their situation and help each other until they can work out what is going on.

Charles Xavier, A Retelling – Extra_fried_noodles

Summary: An attempt to reverse his paralysis goes wrong, and Charles is de-aged into a 2 year old toddler. While Hank scrambles to fix the situation, the whole gang is here to help. Through a mix of selective memory, they watch Charles relive his childhood, revealing some deeply hidden and painful truths.

Protective Instinct – Groovyhornbill

Summary: Charles and Erik were testing Cerebro’s new prototype when things went very wrong.

Divergence – Lynds

Summary: Universes and timelines collide, dropping two younger versions of Charles Xavier into the midst of the hunt for Sebastian Shaw. Now the newly formed X-men have to deal with a strangely quiet and self-reliant six year old, and a sixteen year old covered in bruises.

Erik, in particular, has to accept that the man he loves hasn't had the kind, happy upbringing he wished for him. But these children are here now, and Erik's not going to let anyone hurt them this time.

--Where they have kids--

Sink or Swim – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is a struggling single dad of three kids with a burning hatred for Sebastian Shaw, the man who wronged him years ago. He’s tried to move on with his life, but a run-in with Shaw’s rude, spoiled omega, Charles, drags up old anger. When Charles ends up in the hospital after an accident, Erik goes to confront him only to find that Charles has amnesia. In the confusion, Charles mistakenly assumes that Erik is his mate.

Erik knows he should clear up the misunderstanding, but how can he pass up this perfect chance for a little revenge?

(An Overboard AU)

Rumor Has It - blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Words and Pictures – pocky_slash

Summary: When Lorna's powers manifest early, Charles Xavier's mutant picture books are the perfect teaching tool. Erik just hadn't expected the author to be so young. Or attractive. Or available.

Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash

Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.

Dress Your Family in Plaid and Skinny Jeans – cygnaut

Summary: Erik and Charles meet at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle and they instantly hit it off. And so do their kids, Lorna and David.

Not What I was Expecting (So Much Better) – lazulisong

Summary: Erik, the single father, hires Charles, the grad student with the slightly shady past, to be his manny.

Heli Cases – Black_Betty

Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.

It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.

(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

Doing Something for Yourself – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik is a hard working engineer and single dad, Charles runs a local Community Center where Wanda and Pietro spend their time after school. Erik accidentally makes Charles' acquaintance one Wednesday evening when he's running late from work. Erik has no idea if he stands a chance with his new acquaintance, but that isn't going to keep him from falling for the guy.

A Good Dad – listerinezero

Summary: Ten years later, Magneto has left the Brotherhood and Raven asks Charles to help her find him. Charles discovers that Erik is the single father of five year old twins Wanda and Pietro, and he is doing everything he can to keep them safe from his former enemies.

Take a Chance (On Me) – Ook

Summary: In which Charles, terrorised by his abusive ex, takes his young son to a small town in America, where they both settle down and make friends with their neighbours. Particularly the town mechanic, Erik, and his foster son, Alex. Requester stated they wanted to "drown in H/C. "

Can’t Buy Me Love – niniblack

Summary: Erik's a single dad struggling to make it work and nab the promotion he's been waiting for. The last thing he needs is to get involved with politician and notorious playboy Charles Xavier.

(The Maid in Manhattan pastiche that no one asked for.)

Ohana – royal_chandler

Summary: Erik's children are absolute hellions. If by hellions, one means children who are incredibly protective of their new family unit and won't let a few household mishaps get in the way of keeping it together.

One Second and a Million Miles – magneto

Summary: Between being a parent to the best baby in the history of man-kind and co-running a Mutant Center in Hell's Kitchen, Erik Lehnsherr has his hands pretty full. Too full, certainly for romance; something that has never really been on his radar to begin with.

All that changes, however, when he meets Dr. Charles Xavier. Handsome, intelligent, capable, kind, an Omega level telepath, and one of the best pediatricians in the state, he's everything Erik didn't know he was looking for. But he's also Lorna's pediatrician which means, of course, he's off-limits. Except how is Erik supposed to try and forget his crush when he and Charles keep running into each other as if fate is trying to tell them something? When, as Charles says, they seem to want the same thing?

Her Only Mutations Were Her Blue Eyes and Her Auburn Hair – Pookaseraph

Summary: While sneaking back out of Russia, Erik and Charles stumble across Anya, Erik's presumed dead daughter, and it changes quite a few little things along the way. Fluffy, self-indulgent, fix-it.

Despicably Yours – Cesare, veryorangecat

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr, AKA Magneto, is a supervillain without equal... except maybe one: Charles Xavier, AKA Professor X, AKA Erik's next door neighbor. When their competition heats up, Erik decides the only way to get ahead is to adopt four mutant orphans to infiltrate Charles's mansion.

Things don't go as planned.

The Wrong Impression – Rosawyn

Summary: Charles is trying to balance the responsibilities of his career with his responsibilities as a single father to a tiny baby. It's not something he ever thought he'd have to do, and it's not as easy as those women on the internet make it look! He does't have much of a social life (unless talking to his sister on the phone and attending a parents' class where he's the only guy count), and he doesn't even have time to think of dating. He's just trying to keep his job - and keep his son fed and healthy.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

[piratewithvigor]

How I listen to each of my favourite bands (a bullet point piece)

Aerosmith: They're on the radio. It's the fifth time today. Somehow never the same song. Until tomorrow, anyway. One will make you homesick. One will make you sit in slack-jawed awe of Joe Perry. One will make you curse the day he was born. They all make you love him. In the back of your mind, your thumbs hurt.

The Beatles: You have all the studio albums on your iPod nano with the scroll wheel. It has 2GB of space, so there's nothing else. You sing along to the songs with your best friend in 7th grade during school. The teacher tells you to keep it French or to shut up. You switch to "Michelle" because you're 12 and a smartass.

Bon Jovi: You're on the bus home from a long day of fifth grade. When you get home, the same old, same old. You don't know it yet but this is the beginning of your depression. As you graduate from Crossroads to a 2-Disc Best Of, everything feels worse. You work on a puzzle in the basement and even though maybe no one will ever love you, Bon Jovi understands.

Buddy Holly: For the first time since high school started, you have a friend. She's wonderful and she understands you. Maybe there's 3 time zones between you, but it doesn't stop you from digging a hole deep into a fantasy world that you live in for months with her. Buddy's music is simple and the records are bright yellow. Maybe everything will be okay.

David Bowie: You didn't care when he died. You didn't know better. You got a CD of greatest hits for your birthday two months later. You still didn't understand the fuss all too well. A few tracks pop out at you and you get the album that features them. Dad insists you listen to the album in the dark on the floor (he doesn't say while smoking weed, but if it were the 70s, you would have). Finally you understand: David understands you.

Def Leppard: You're 13 and trying to find your place in the world. Trying to make a name, so you write. As the characters who make no sense are fleshed out in 1667 words every single day, the drum loop that finished Pyromania follows you around.

The Doors: You don't know how Jim Morrison came into your life. Maybe it was by an experiment gone wrong or a curiosity. Your classmates question why you're reading a book with a shirtless man posed as if being crucified. You don't know how to answer that you think you might be him. You hadn't believed in reincarnation, but he sparked something inside you. You can feel consciousness slip away when he plays his game called 'Go Insane'. You hold a Celebration Of The Lizard for a poetry slam and the adrenaline pushes you through your fear. You feel Jim's words in your actions for years. He watches you when you sleep.

GNR: You send your siblings out of the basement. They aren't old enough to hear swear words in music and you want to listen to Appetite in the dark. You want to jump on top of the couch and punch the floor. You can feel Axl's anger and it courses through you.

Journey: You've been told you look like Steve Perry. You aren't sure if it's a compliment or an insult. You think you sound like him. You know all the words to Don't Stop Believing at the school dance. Your first memory of your boyfriend was him singing it at the talent show. Your last memory of him is singing I'll Be Alright Without You, severing the final tie. Wheel In The Sky opens your next day. Things don't feel okay anymore.

KISS: You're 4 years old and your Dad is watching the scariest freaks you've ever seen on the TV. In the next scene, the scariest one is sitting and talking to people who look like your grandparents. You forget about them for 7 years. They show up again in your newest hyperfixation and you give them a chance. The freaks who once scared you strip away your fears and set you free.

Led Zeppelin: Your imagination was just opened to the possibilities of stories beyond the realms of reality. What you thought you never knew opened you to a new layer of your past that you didn't understand. The tendrils of influence wrap around every part of your future.

Motley Crue: The writings paint them as the villains. In many ways, they are. In just as many ways, they're the same scared kids you are. For better or for worse, they bring you into a community. There, you experiment hurting yourself in ways therapists don't look for. The greatest friend you could ever want.

Ninja Sex Party: They're a rock band for kids who don't understand rock bands. You have no physical media for them and it feels like you may never get the chance. Copies are limited. So your spotify is thick with every song they've ever recorded. They're fleeting and they're your rock.

Queen: You know just a little too much about them. They're bigger characters than the radio lets them be. You love Bohemian Rhapsody before you begin to hate it before you learn to love it once more.

Rammstein: As they bleed for their art, so you bleed for yours. Perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of desperation, but plague cuts your work short. It cuts you from the glory you could have had. The first album you've ever waited for the release of by a band.

Reckless Love: Never before has a band felt so attainable and yet so far away. Your family doesn't understand them, so you hide them away. The only recklessness was falling in love.

Rolling Stones: Angie helped you through more than you know. The lips are on your tapestry for a reason. You were blind for so much for so long. You never gave them a chance. They're using their chance now.

Rush: Once shrugged-off nobodies. You gave them a chance out of curiosity and desperation. Now you can't understand the possibility of never having liked them. They brought you your first great grief and your first proof of miracles. The red star of the solar federation burns bright. Assume control.

Styx: You're standing in the snow. The bus is an hour late. You can't contact your parents because they took your one method of contact as a punishment for not making your bed. You're listening to a Greatest Hits on your iPod. Crystal Ball. It's an hour. Blue Collar Man. You get home and no one noticed you were late. They're eating without you. Suite Madam Blue.

Tom Petty: The news hits you. Your throat is blocked and you don't say anything. You listen to I Won't Back Down before telling your Dad. He was the first you experienced while being a fan. He wasn't the last. You torture yourself artistically in his honour. You attend a tribute concert and scream yourself hoarse.

Tuff: You want to leave home and block out all the memories as best you can. Stevie makes it impossible. But he's also one of the only ones there as all your best friends who aren't online forget your birthday. He acknowledges you.

Van Halen: The grief is insurmountable. For weeks afterwards, Eruption makes your heart sink. 5150 makes you cry instead of imagine pleasant nonsense as it once did. There is no comfort. If he can go, what's stopping anyone else?

The Who: Maybe they got to your head a little. You were sitting in a room in school for hours each day, completely alone except for Tommy playing on your tiny laptop. No supervision. No classmates. Just your monstrosity of a project and Tommy.

[stephmariie]

The Undead Rising.

Request: Y/N and your people go on a supply run, as Negan and his people show up to the same place. Negan had no other choice but to accept your offer being out run by your bigger community with larger equipment. As Negan and Y/N bump heads showing who has the biggest balls here and a badass attitude, Negan is more impressed by how brave and clever Y/N is.

Requested by: @purple-serenity

Pairing: Negan x Y/N

A/N: this is not a one shot.

Warnings: strong language

“This is the location, we haven’t been here yet and we need to check it out and see what we can find.” You point on the map showing the crew in your office.

“And if we don’t find anything?” David asked.

“Here is another location.” You point to a new spot on the map as you circled it with a red sharpie. “We haven’t been here yet. But we need to make sure the other place has what we need before we go to the next one.” You said

“Anyone have any questions?” You asked everyone in the room.

“When are we going?” Sarah asked quietly, she’s the shy one, as her face turns red she hated speaking in front of everyone.

“Good question, we could leave tonight. But I rather everyone sleep well tonight and we can go first thing in the morning. I’d like for my people well rested before we go on a big supply run.” You said.

You hated over working your people, you always do your best to make sure they’re well rested before a big event happens.

“Alright everyone let’s get some sleep since we have a big day tomorrow, I’d like everyone ready by 7:00 am tomorrow. Also before you leave here, Candace here has a list of everything we need for tomorrow. Run by her on things you need and be ready with it tomorrow morning. Goodnight everyone.” You said as folding up the map and putting all your paperwork together.

“Hey Y/N before you leave.” David said as he opened up the door and Sarah came back in with a cake and some lit candles.

Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy fucking birthday to you!!!! Everyone shouted

“Now make a wish as Sarah placed the cake down on the table in your office. You start to cry and couldn’t gather your words. “Guys..d-did you seriously do this for me? Wait how did y’all know it was my fucking birthday!” You said with tears and a smile.

“How could we forget your birthday we been marking it on the calendar everyday.” David said

“With everything you do for us, you’re one of the rarest leaders who just.. you know treat us well, you gave us a chance to rebuild a life again.. you bring us hope.” Sarah said

“And a hot as bitch!” Candace said as everyone in the room started to laugh.

You chuckled and made a wish and blew out your candles. “Your guys are the greatest get your asses over here!” As you held out your arms and everyone ran to tackle you.

Sarah cut the cake giving everyone a piece, you guys laughed and joked for a good thirty minutes before it was time for everyone to leave. Sarah was nice enough to clean up the office so you didn’t have to do it. You smiled looking around the room before turning the lights off and closing the door behind you to go too your house to sleep.

******

It was the next morning and you were gathering everything before you had to leave for the run. As you walk outside your crew was ready to go by the gate.

“Well shit look at all you sexy bitches, hot and READY! Me likely!” You said as you gave them all a sassy wink.

Everyone laughed, you always know how to start the morning by getting everyone to laugh. They always look forward to every trip with you. Makes things easier knowing your group loves hanging out with you.

“Well Goodmorning fuckers! Let’s get our asses on the motherfuckin road! Or are we just gonna stand around and be zombies all day?” You said with your arms spread out smiling walking backwards towards the gate.

“Zombies? sounds pretty nice if you ask me?”David said as you look at him with a smile

“Yeah yeah it would be nice, maybe after this trip we can relax and be zombies for a bit.” You chuckled knowing they will need a full day of rest after this trip. Specially you.

“Hey everyone you know I always do this but it’s a reminder. You all know the drill. We run our routes. Mark your log books. Clear any walkers you see. You run into anything, anything you can't handle, you come back here. Be smart about it. We work as a team okay? You said as everyone nodded.

*********

It’s been about 2 hours on the road as you guys finally rolled up to the place. It was an army base. You take out your radio. “Hey Sarah we have some walkers up ahead it seems like this place has some scattered around. Let’s stop here.” You said as you told David to stop the jeep. “You got it boss lady.” Sarah said over the radio.

You get out of the jeep as everyone else got out of their vehicle and walked over to you.

“You guys know the drill let’s clear the outside first before we go in.” You said as everyone nodded.

You started to ran and slammed your knife in the back of a walkers head, you’re always the first one to take action, it’s your favorite thing. Well taking action first that is not the killing part. You’re slamming all the walkers down there was a good amount here, this kind of thing always got your heart pumping of excitement.

You stabbed another walker through the head and you pulled the knife out and it broke.

“Oh you son of a bitch! Are you shittin me right now!” You said in an anger voice, wiping your sweat off your forehead with your arm as you were trying to pull another knife out of your side pants, a few walkers started to get real close to you, you were walking backwards and tripped over a dead walker landing on your back. You were using your elbows pulling yourself backwards to get away as you heard gunshots from a distance taking out the last few of the walkers around.

You seen a group standing with guns and a tall man with a barb wired bat around his shoulder. He wore black boots with dark gray pants, one glove on his right hand and a fucking leather jacket in 90 degree weather. How in the hell was he not sweating balls here. Is he fucking insane?

The tall man with the bat started to walk towards you along with his group behind him, as you helped yourself up and your group came up behind you with their guns. You put your hands on your hips.

“Hi pretty lady, I’m Negan.” He smiled As he held up both his arms out with Lucille in his right hand. “And we’re the saviors.” He did a slight point towards you.

“Hi.” You said crossing your arms. Lifting one eyebrow.

“Well damn excuse my goddamn French but I just saved your fucking ass and that’s all the response I get?” He said with a smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry didn’t mean to offend you Mr… Negan right?” You said in a sassy tone that made him smirk a little.

“That’s right doll face, may I ask what you’re doing out here? At our base.” He asked leaning to the side moving his eye up and down at you, he was indeed checking you out.

“I could ask you the same thing Mr…. Negan.” Giving him a slight smirk. “In fact how could this be YOUR place when we just cleared the outside and none of your people are here guarding it. And… I don’t see your name on it.” You said giving him a tease with another smirk.

“You see this shit! this is what I’m talking about! Ahh this is the shit that just tickles me balls!” As he turned around looking at his men with his arms up. He turned side ways to look at you with a smirk. “You may not know me sweetheart, but you’re definitely gonna wish you haven’t.”

“Hmm, funny you say that because I feel you’re gonna regret crossing me pretty soon.” You snapping back.

“Yeah, we will see about that.” He whispered where you didn’t hear him.

“You see here, there’s this new world order and well dollface I hate to break it to you but you’re now apart of it. So let me break it down simple and easy for you. One..” as he held up his index finger, smirking away. “You work for me. We have the whole set up, beds, food you name it, I have the whole package sweetheart! So all you have to do is work for me. Or two.” He flipped up his middle finger too. “I kill you and your fucking people now! I take your shit, and be on my merry fucking way. Well I don’t like hurting women, so suggest you pick one. But men? Hell doll face I could bash their brains all fucking day! He sighs shaking his head as he grinned. “…..Women are just to fucking beautiful to kill.. so sweetheart. What’s it gonna be..?” Holding up his arms again with his bat in the air.

Your arms are still crossed and your smile that never left your face

“Neither.” You said with no hesitation.

“I’m sorry doll face I didn’t quite catch that.” He started to look angry.

“Mr. Negan let me be clear here, I’ll make it simple and easy.” As you leaned forward “just for you.” Still having a smile on your face with your arms crossed.

“Your rules are shit, and no I don’t do new world orders very well, you see here Mr. Negan. I will take your shit and be glad to shove it up your ass.” You let out a small laugh and you see Negan’s people gripping their guns about to point them to you and your people.

“Ohh sweetheart, you have no… idea who you’re talking to.” Negan now looks more angry.

“Oh I do doll face, and let’s be real here.” You sigh turning your head looking at the army base. “This is mine, and mine only.”

You couldn’t help but stare at his eyes, he had the most beautiful eyes you ever seen, hazel.. oh those hazel eye that could kill you.. when he smiled it just lit up his face along with his dimples. His smile curved so perfectly making his dimples pop out more. Making your heart race faster. His anger made you like him more. His attitude was turning you on.

“Well excuse me sweetheart.. I didn’t know this belong to you, there’s rules here in fact whatever is yours. Is now mine. Rather you it or not.” They He said with more intense voice

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response. “I never nor will I ever agree to anyone’s rules in fact I dont follow other people’s rules very well.”

Behind you, you could hear more vehicles rolling up. If was more of your people. David must of gave a code over the radio signaling we need help. David is basically your right hand man. One of the most clever guys on your team. He goes with you everywhere.

You turn your head to see behind you and you seen more of your community there with you. In that moment you had more people protecting your crew. More people than Negan brought along. You had more weapons, bigger guns and even a few tankers.

Negan’s eyes had widen, in shocked to see the shit you had. It was more than what he even had at his sanctuary.

“Welcome to the rising undead.” Holding out your hands your elbows were still to you sides. You gave a smirk and shot a wink towards his way.

“Now there’s no rules here Mr. Negan.” You started to walk towards him placing your knife back down on the side of you pants. “But we can try and agree on something here if you are okay with that.” You stopped about 10 feet in front of him. You watch his eyebrow raise making you smile a little.

You seen Negan look passed you at your large group. You were proud of your people in the moment showing up the way they did, how David sent a signal out. You had a huge community that you loved. You took care of. They respected you. You keep them safe and they keep you safe at all cost. Mostly everyone called you mom even for laughs and giggles. But deep down you acted like a mother when they needed you to the most. They love you as much as you love them. And for that, in this moment you couldn’t help but smile hearing more vehicles roll up in front of you. Behind Negan’s group, vehicles driving through the field to your right, an open field. It was huge. You watched Negan’s face as you hear all the vehicle doors open and slam shut. Negan in that moment all he could do was agree, he was out run by your people.

He started to look around as he giggled. He was facing the field and slightly turned his head towards you with a smile, like he was proud of your ass. Probably shocked seeing a woman like you that ran an community the way you do.

“Shit doll face, I guess I no longer have a choice here do I?” He ask turning his body towards you still having a smile on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile at his response, his smile was making you weak. Fuck, you needed to slap yourself in the face to knock it off. And get your shit together.

“Sorry my love I don’t think you do.” You said crossing your arms over your chest.

“There’s another army base that’s untouched, I’m willing to give that to you if you let us have this one. But… there’s a catch.” You said

“And what is that doll face?” Negan asked.

“I’ll let you have it, you let us help you clear some bigger place out for you, since we indeed have the bigger guns here. So in return we get some supplies. You know like a payment.” You said

Negan gave you smile, he seemed like he was trying to figure out what to say. Lost in words. Realized how clever you were.

“So Mr. Negan, what’s it gonna be?”

He took a few seconds to reply. “Alright. So how can we find them?” He raised an eyebrow with a smile on his face.

You started to walk towards him teasingly, looking into his eyes with a mischievous smile. You stopped in front of him standing very close. Finally breaking the eye contact, you put your hand on his shoulder and tiptoed to whisper in his ear.

“I’ll see you soon, big boy.” You say before planting a small but lingering kiss on his cheek. You pull away and see his smile grew wider deepening his dimples.

“I am about fifty percent more into you now...just sayin'.” Negan said grinning from that kiss

“An I’m about zero percent into now.” You said smirking, you slowly move your hand down off his shoulder to you biceps, walking backwards letting him go staring at him like you want him so badly as he started to see that.

You reached in your back pocket and took out a map. You handed it to him, the location that was folded up, as you knew the location was already marked on the map. “It’s the location of the other army base.” You said.

You turn away swaying back to your team and gave them nod to go ahead to the army base. As you stopped in the middle of the road before you went to follow your team, you turn around to look behind you to see Negan one last time, he gave you a smile and turned around as you watched him leave.

You called Joel and Steve over to you. These two are the best you had when they needed someone to sneak around. As they never get caught doing what they do best. They been with you since day one and never left your side. And never hesitate when you ask them for help.

“I need you both to follow them, check out their community and see what they do. Please?”

They both nodded and walked away and left to follow them.

“Jesus Y/N you handle that pretty fucking well, I almost didn’t need to signal anyone out here.” David said, he let out a chuckle.

You giggled still having a smile on your face from Negan. “No no no… I’m really glad you signal out for help. That actually made us look bigger and tougher.” You placed you hand on his shoulder. “Thank you David, seriously I owe you one big time. I’m proud of you, as I always am.” You smiled as you both walked over by the fence to the army base.

You and your people cleared out the inside, there was a lot of walkers more than you imagined. But luckily No one got hurt. As everyone knew the drill to check the walkers for any items that we could use, in fact the walkers had armer, weapons, knifes and extra bullets. There was a lot of items we needed so everyone gathered the items placing them in bins to haul back to their vehicles. We placed everything by the door till we had everything we needed.

There was a storage room full of MREs packages of food that the military used for meals. There was a lot, about a month worth of food. This was big as you needed all the food you could get.

“Hey Y/N!” David called you over. As you walked over to him, you seen the next room full of vehicles.

“Holy shit David!” You yelled out.

There was a full garage of army vehicles. BAe caiman, General Dynamics Stryker, M1 Abrams. The list went on. “Fuck David we could use these!” You had a big smile on your face. You couldn’t believe everything you guys had found inside, more and bigger weapons.

David grabbed a group of people having them get the new batteries and fuel for the vehicles. Most of them worked. While another group took what they could off the bad vehicles.

Everyone gathered everything and loaded up the vehicles, you helped them out too, getting everyone to laugh by your jokes, a lot of them joked back. You always tried and make a trip fun even when everyone is tired and worn out. You knew it was going to be a long trip back as you left the MREs out and had everyone grab some food for dinner before going back on the road. We needed to eat, you could tell how they needed their energy. While you all finished eating you gathered everyone around

“I really wanted to thank every single one of you tonight, seriously. You guys did awesome. The ones that came with me today, and for those who came out when you were signal too. You guys even stayed to helped clear out the inside and helped loading our trucks up making this go by faster.” You see everyone with a smile on their faces. They were all happy to be there with you.

“I seriously couldn’t ask for a better community than this. Thank you everyone again. I dont know about you guys but I’m ready to go home and fucking sleep!!” You yelled out as everyone cheered getting in their vehicles. Before you and David got in your vehicle he wanted to talk with you.

“Hey um Joel radio me, they made it safe and haven’t gotten seen. they’re still out there and safe.” David said

You nodded as you both got in the vehicle to go home. It was a nice smooth way back as you all pulled all your vehicles in everyone was unloading their trucks. You seen Lacy one your guards on the wall. She’s one of your toughest women here, well every women here you think is tough, lacy loves to work out she’s a body builder. She could work out for hours when she doesn’t have to be on watch. Who also teaches karate here. You been trying to get her to come out with you on a supple run but she loves being the guard on watch. Which is is one of your best spotters.

“Hey lacy!” You yelled out waving your two fingers motioning her to come down.

Hey Y/N! I see you brought in some good shit this time!” She said while chuckling.

“Hey now I always get the good shit!” You chuckled back. “What can I do to get you off that wall to come out with us next time?” You smiled at her.

“Well you got me off the wall now.” Lacy chuckled. “But you know I rather stay here, I’m your best spotter and you keeping me off the wall isn’t gonna help you out you know.”

You nodded knowing she loves her job. “Maybe one day I’ll get you out.” You smiled as lacy shocked her head.

“We will see boss!” Lacy ran back up to the wall as you watched her. You really would like her out there soon. But you hated pushing people who didn’t want to do something they don’t like.

“Alright everyone let’s get some rest shall we!” You said while everyone start to head back to their homes. Everything was put away and it was quiet in your community. As you get home you sat on your porch and pulled out your cigarettes. Before you could light it.

“Hey now, I thought you quit that shit?” Sarah said with a tease.

She had the most beautiful red hair you’d ever seen, it was long and wavy that was down to almost her butt. She barely wore it down but when she did she was beautiful. She had these beautiful hazel green eyes with a tint of gray around the edges.

You chuckled “yeah I thought so too.” As you lit your cigarette handing her the pack as Sarah grabbed a cigarette and your litter and lit her cigarette.

“You were pretty awesome the way you handle Negan.” Sarah said

“Yeah, yeah I fucking was.” You both chuckled.

“Not gonna lie, Negan was… hot.” Sarah took a hit of her cigarette and held it in.

You chuckled at her comment. “I’ve seen hotter.” you actually thought he was hot as fuck but you didn’t want to say that out loud.

“Your sassy attitude today, I think you scared him.” Sarah laughed taking another hit of her cigarette.

You take hit of your cigarette as well. “I wouldn’t say me, but I think we all scared him.” You put out your cigarette and stretched out your arms and yawned.

“I think you all did awesome today. Without you guys I truly dont know how that situation would of went.” You leaned back in your chair crossing your arms.

“I think we did awesome too. Sucks we had to give that other location away. Not gonna lie. I was looking forward to that.” Sarah frowned

You sighed reaching out your hand as she placed her hand onto yours. “I wasn’t happy about it either but we were stuck in a situation and we don’t need a war. I rather keep you all safe than loose any of you over a building.” You seen a tear rolled down her face.

“Thanks Y/N you truly do know how to keep us safe.” Sarah got up from her chair and leaned in giving you a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight Y/N.” As Sarah walked away.

You watched Sarah go to her house across the street making sure she made it inside. Even though your community is supposed to be safe, it’s just something you always did and never will stop.

You get up to go inside and your radio goes off “Y/N you there?” You heard Joel whispering over the radio. “Yes Joel..” you said over the radio. “We’re safe, we got everything we needed here.” Joel said.

You sigh with relief “come on back, be safe if you run into anything. You find somewhere safe and radio me or Lacy.”

You placed the radio on your end table, switched into you pjs and hopped on your bed. Negan was running through your mind. That handsome ignorant man with his sense of humor turned you on. You rolled your eyes. “I can’t be thinking about this right now.” You mumbled to yourself and closed your eyes to sleep.

*******

It was a beautiful new day as everyone was eating their breakfast. You usually don’t eat breakfast but you always had to have coffee. That was one of your favorite things right when you wake up. You headed outside with your coffee as everyone was greeting you this morning. You smiled at everyone saying Goodmorning as you hear a knock at the front gate you turned your head fast.

Dun-dun-dun-DUN. “LITTLE PIG, LITTLE PIG, LET ME IN!” You recognized that voice as you head turned slightly.

“Oh you gotta be shittin me right now.” You mumbled to yourself.

You walked over to the gate and gave the guards a nod to open the door. You crossed your arms over your chest and had a slight smile on your face. As the door opens all the way and Negan had a smile on his face holding out his hands with his stupid bat out standing outside your community.

Everyone was trying to get up as you moved your hand behind you stopping them. You wanted them to finish eating as you could handle this situation by yourself.

“Well hello there pretty lady, you gonna let me in?” Negan said smiling putting Lucille over his shoulder.

You chuckled “now why would I go and do that? We can talk where we’re standing at.” You we’re about 20 feet away from him and the gate.

He had a huge grin on his face. “Okay what If don’t accept your offer.” As he took a few steps forward and the guards from the bottom and top of the fence pointed their guns at him.

He chuckled “you really gonna shoot me now?”

“I will if I have to.” You shot him with a smirk as you started to walk towards him. You were about 5 feet away from him.

“You know I thought we had a special moment yesterday.” He chuckled

“Ahh easy there Romeo.” You said teasingly.

“Oh where are my manners, hi Mr. Negan, now why in the hell are you here.?” As he took one more step towards you, you can hear the guns shift. He stopped himself with a smirk on his face. As you raised one eyebrow.

“I wanted to see you doll face! And your..” He started to look around in your community where he was standing. “Your Beautiful community!” You rolled your eyes at his comment.

“That’s it? Seriously?” You said in a disappointed ton.

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, were you wanting more? I mean shit we can go somewhere doll face if that’s what you want?” He teased.

You laughed at his response. Placing your hand on your eyebrow scratching it “okay seriously why are you here, Negan?” You acted frustrated.

“Well doll face we searched that army base you gave us and we found some good shit. But we also had found another few location and you said you’d help us out so here I am.” He smiled placing Lucille down at his side.

“You ready sweetheart?”

Great he’s ready to go when I haven’t even prepared my people yet. This will be a shit show.

“Whatever you say Romeo.” As you walked away.

Taglist: @purple-serenity @witchiswriting

[brookecuzyes]

three years of you. — tear myself apart

Damiano David x GN!Musician!Reader

Main Masterlist — 3yrs Masterlist

Summary: it’s only been a couple of days, which were full of tears and regret. however, that regret wasn’t on their part until a simple comment was made. (Part 3 of a series)

Word Count: ≈3.4k

Warnings: cursing, alcohol intake, angst (Anyone drinking alcohol in this chapter is of the legal drinking age in the United States, which is 21.)

A/N: thank y’all for reading! this has already gained a lot of readers and so i am happy about that. love you guys sm 💕 songs included in this fic are not mine. any characters mentioned are not mine, and belong to their respected owners. and ofc, i don’t own the celebrities either. i do check comments/reblogs, so please be respectful!!

———————————————————————-

You’ve got this, you can do it.

You tried consoling yourself. Normally, he would be here to help calm you down— or at least call if he could physically be there. He’d be there if you were about to have a panic attack, he’d be there to make sure that you were OK.

But you aren’t.

An entire audience full of strangers who listened to the songs, who listened to your heartbreak. Now, they get to watch your heart break live.

He wouldn’t— no, couldn’t— be there to comfort you. He couldn’t be there to tell you that everything will be fine. He fucked up, he’s the one who messed up that relationship…

“…then why did you show up?”

——

Glasses clinked. Chatter was taking place all around. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming.

You sat down at the booth with the whole band. Saturday had rolled around, which you hadn’t noticed since you were lost in an almost depressive state where time was non-existent. However, the karaoke bar definitely woke you up.

“Alright, guys,” Luke, the lead guitarist, said, holding a couple of drinks in his hands. “Tonight is the night! The tradition kicks in once again, and Monday we start recording. Let’s celebrate and relax.” Julie, the lead singer and the girlfriend of Luke, followed behind him, setting more drinks down on the table. Flynn, the unofficial manager of the band, let out a loud, “woo!”, making everyone laugh. All of you grabbed a glass and clinked them together, all taking a sip at the same time. Your face crunched when you processed the drink.

“Jesus, Luke, what is this?” you questioned.

“Alcohol,” he said blatantly.

“Yeah, no shit,” you shot back, shaking off the effects.

“I just said that we’re relaxing— that’s exactly what alcohol does!”

“Or maybe you're just an alcoholic?” Alex joked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t drink that much.” Luke defended.

“That’s what an alcoholic would say.” The whole band started laughing at the ongoing banter. It isn’t often when Alex made witty remarks like that, and everyone always enjoyed it when he did.

On another note, you felt as if you absolutely needed this drink. Given what’s been going on this last week, you felt like you deserved it. Though, you knew you’d regret this tomorrow. You knew Alex was keeping an eye out for you. The rest of the band didn’t know yet, they just knew that something happened, which is why you left Italy so early. They were all confused, but didn’t ask upon it when Alex glared daggers at them when they tried. So, thankfully, they did back off. But, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t concerned.

You had been talking, making it seem as if everything was fine, but Alex’s heart broke when he picked up on it. However, with the alcohol about to course through your veins, it would be harder from him to be able to pick up on whether you were drunk or going through it. Regardless, he was going to make sure that you were having fun and not thinking about your ex.

“Hey,” Flynn said, “why don’t we start the karaoke? I think we all have enough alcohol in our systems to do this.”

“I vote for Alex to go first!” You said, raising your hand. “Do Micheal Bublé.”

“Woah, hold up, I never even said-��

“It doesn’t matter. What I say goes. Now go.” He sighed, laughing as he stood up from the booth. He went over to the guy and told him what song he wanted to do. They got everything set up, and Alex got on stage.

“Let’s go, Alex!” You cheered on, making him smile and blush just a bit— though that wasn’t entirely visible from where you guys decided to sit.

The song started playing, and Alex started singing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the song but you figured it out.

“Oh, he’s singing Feeling Good. I love that song,” you whispered to Reginald, the bassist, who was sitting next to you. He looked to you over his shoulder, smiling. He hadn’t seen you so “out there” since you got back. It was nice to see you getting back to normal. Though, he didn’t actually know why you weren’t normal to begin with.

And I’m feeling… good.

You cheered Alex on again, dancing along to the beat with the whole band. Alex didn’t sing much, but when he did you cherished those moments. That’s why he songs Now or Never and Stand Tall on the band’s very first album are your favorite.

“God, I love his voice,” Reggie said, as if he read your mind.

“Yeah, and look at him,” you pointed out the way his body is moving with the music. The way he was just lost in a musical haze. It was enchanting. “That’s what his anxiety covers up.”

Alex soon finished, hopping off of the stage with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, babe,” you said, noticing his expression. “That was the best performance tonight by far. Not even Julie could compare to how amazing that was.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said, drawing out the ‘thanks’ in a sarcastic way. You raised your glass to her.

“Anytime, Jules,” you replied, raising your eyebrow and taking a sip. She laughed, letting the comment you made slip— for now at least.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Flynn exclaimed. “How about we take a couple photos and post them to our accounts? Y’know, to celebrate this very special moment.” Everyone collectively agreed. Pictures were taken left and right— and others were taken throughout the night, too— and each person had a different photo that they were each going to post. You had decided that you were going to post yours now, not wanting to forget later on tonight or tomorrow.

You captioned it:

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

It was perfect and you posted it, after letting everyone see it to make sure it was OK. Within minutes people already saw it and were liking and commenting. You made sure to turn your phone off before it started going crazy. Julie and Luke decided to go up and do a duet with each other. They choose Little Do You Know. Their voices were beautiful singing the song. They mashed just so perfectly. You recorded them, knowing that you would 100% show them this at their wedding. (They aren’t engaged, but it’s bound to happen sooner or later.)

You weren’t paying attention to the notifications spamming the top of your screen, though you did look back once to see if the camera was aligned with their bodies. That’s when you saw a specific notification. One thing that you absolutely forgot when you posted that photo was that Måneskin could still see your posts. The only reason you remembered was because Victoria responded to your post.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

The second you saw it, you put your head in your hands, mentally slapping yourself. If Victoria saw it, then the rest of the band is going to see, meaning Damiano would see it. Fuck, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” Alex asked, placing a hand on your arm. You looked up at him showing him the comment. “I don’t understand.”

“Victoria commented. Meaning Damiano’s probably gonna see it.”

“Not if he’s blocked.”

“I didn’t block him, we’re still mutuals.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Alex. Maybe I just haven’t gotten to it yet.” You realized the angered tone in your voice, not meaning to be rude to Alex. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, maybe if he does end up seeing it, he’ll just be jealous. Damiano will see everything he’s missing out on.”

“What is Damiano missing out on?” Julie asked, sitting back down with Luke.

“Oh, it’s nothing-“ Alex started, but you cut him off.

“I left Italy because Damiano was talking to another girl. It caused too many problems, so I left.” Everyone went silent. Everyone’s eyes softened at you, unsure of what to say.

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine. I’m here now. It doesn’t matter.” Silence fell once again, especially on Alex’s behalf. He knew you weren’t fine, he knew it mattered— whether you said it or not. “Sorry if I kinda killed tonight’s vibe.”

“N-No, you’re fine,” Reggie said. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, you didn’t ruin anything. I am glad that you told us, though. We’ve been worried.” Luke said, putting his arms on the table and leaning forward just a bit. You felt your phone vibrate but didn’t think anything of it— probably just another person on Instagram.

“Sorry that I made you guys worry. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It’s just been a hard couple of days. This shit isn’t easy,” you explained, mumbling the last part. Everyone stayed silent, none wanting to make something worse.

“Luke, why don’t you and the guys go grab some food?” Julie suggested, placing a hand on Luke’s back, turning her attention back to you.

“Oh, yeah. Guys, let’s go,” Luke said, getting the hint. The boys got up and left, each giving you a sympathetic look. The girls, on the other hand, all stayed behind.

“Alright, listen up,” Flynn started. “Tonight is not the night to mope around. You can do that tomorrow when you’re hungover.”

“Right now,” Julie jumped in, “you’re gonna forget about that asshole, get your ass out there, and sing your heart out, dammit!” Your eyes widened at the girls’ sternness. A smile started creeping from your lips, Julie and Flynn following behind you. Soon enough, the three of you started laughing your asses off.

“Ok, ok, I’m convinced. I’ll have fun tonight. Thanks,” you said, trying to shake off the laughter so you can speak. You grabbed your drink, taking a sip of it. It was the same drink Luke got you earlier. Damn it, Luke. You shook your head to shake off the kick the drink had. Flynn chuckled at your antics, taking a sip of her, not as strong, drink. The guys soon came back with some snack-type items in their hands.

“Are we all good now?” Alex asked, setting down the plate on the table and looking your way.

“Yep, we’re all good now,” Julie answered, taking a sip of her drink. You chuckle at her, reaching for some of the food on the table. “But, Y/N’s about to sing for us.”

“Woah, wait, now?”

“What did I say? You’re gonna sing your heart out.”

You groaned, slumping back in your set in a joking— yet, not entirely joking— way. “Julie, I didn’t realize that you meant right now.”

“Ok, so? Get up there, Y/N! C’mon it’ll be fun.” You contemplated. I should go, you thought, it could be fun.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you announced, getting up from your seat. Reggie and Flynn got up from theirs so you could get out. When you got up, you turned to Reginald.

“C’mon, you’re doing this with me,” you said, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the guy supervising the karaoke.

“I didn’t really wanna sing right now. Nerves, y’know?” Reggie explained.

“So? Reggie, I get that nerves are real, but there’s no way in hell I’m doing this alone.” You opened up a book full of songs, and was going through the selection.

“Why couldn’t you just get someone else?”

“Because I think our voices clash very well together.” You turned your head to him and gave him a smile. He shyly smiled back. You looked back at the book and held it up to Reggie. “What about this one?” you asked, pointing to a song. Reggie read it and smiled.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he said, grabbing the pen and marking off the song and writing your names. You stood back, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he turned around.

“Alright, I’ve got us down. Wanna head up?” He asked, holding his hand out with a playful smile.

“Let’s do it,” you said, grabbing a hold of his hand, him taking you up the stairs and into the stage.

When you walked up, you saw the screen in front of you turn on, switching to the lyrics of the song. The lights were bright, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. You saw some people stare at you, but it was mainly the rest of the band. Reginald walked to the microphone set up on the far left, you took the other. The song started playing, immediately relaxing you. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought. The song you chose was a favorite of you and Reggie— Meet Me At Our Spot. Of course, the band loved it too, but they got bored with it after a while since you two were always blasting it wherever you went. You actually had some inspiration from this song and wrote a little tune, but you had no lyrics at the moment.

When I wake up

I cant even stay up

I slept through the day, fuck

I’m not getting younger

——

“Victoria, you don’t understand-“

“No, you don’t understand, Damiano!” Victoria raised her voice at him. They never argued. They’ve known each other since childhood and nothing had ever caused an issue, except for this.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks to me that you broke your lovers heart.”

“Y/N left me,” he said, trying to reason.

“They might have physically left, but, Damiano, you were gone a long time ago.” She started towards the front door of his house, grabbing her keys.

“Where are you going?” Damiano asked.

“Home. But, let me tell you something first, Dami.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “It doesn’t matter how you try to defend yourself, you fucked up. You broke Y/N’s heart. You were talking to someone else. The damage is done. If you’re gonna try and get them back, you’re gonna have to try really damn hard. You want to get Y/N back, right?”

Silence followed. Victoria gave him a second to compose himself, but ultimately feared the worst. “Dami…”

“I mean, yeah, but-“

“No buts. You shouldn’t be saying ‘but’, you have no reason to.” Damiano just looked at her. “Wow… unbelievable.” Victoria opened the door and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Damiano walked up to the door and locked it. He headed back to the living room and heard his phone ding. He picked it up and saw that you had posted a photo.

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

He sighed. He unlocked his phone, and went to go see the photo you posted. You looked nice. Happy. What was the tradition again?

Right, karaoke. The weekend before the band records an album, everyone goes to a karaoke bar. He scrolled down a bit and saw a comment. He saw Victoria’s comment.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

He figured that she saw the post before she pulled out of his driveway. He debated on what he should do.

Yeah, he fucked up. But, it really wasn’t that bad. It’s not like he cheated. It was just talking. He wanted to tell you that you look great, but wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. Like Y/N would care what I think, he thought to himself. You never broke up, though. Plus, he needs to know what’s going on, how you’re doing. He’s concerned. Couldn’t be the worst thing— it’s not like the internet knows yet.

Ok, I’ll just just comment.

——

Caught a vibe

Baby, are you coming for the ride

I just wanna look into your eyes

I just wanna stay for the night, night, night

You and Reginald were jamming out to the song, as per usual. Everyone was loving it, even the rest of the band. It was the most fun you’ve had in a hot second.

When we take a drive

Maybe we can take the 405

Hypnotized by the light

Man, this must be the life

As the song ended, everyone cheered you two on. You went over and hugged Reggie on his side, him giving a small hug back. You guys walked back to your booth, the whole band full of excitement. Alex got up from his seat and let the two of you in, you sitting in the corner of the booth.

“That was amazing!” Luke exclaimed.

“Thanks, we had fun,” Reggie said, practically reading your mind.

“Definitely.”

“Your voices go so well together,” Flynn remarked.

“That’s exactly what I said!” you said, hitting Reginald’s shoulder so he knows your point is proven.

“Ok, we don’t have to be violent about it,” he joked, smirking just a bit.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go to the restroom real quick. I’ll be back,” you said, waiting for Alex and Reggie to stand up so you can go. You grabbed your phone, stood up, and made your way to the restroom. When you got to the restroom, you went to one of the stalls but checked your phone before you did anything else. However, you almost immediately regretted it because you saw that Damiano had commented on your photo.

What the hell does he want?

You read what he had commented, and, honestly, you wanted to laugh.

You look great tonight, as you do every night, amore

You couldn’t believe it. Amore, really? you thought to yourself. You looked up from your phone, looking at the stall door. You contemplated what to do next:

For starters, keeping the comment wouldn’t be out of the norm for your followers. They knew about you and Damiano. However, if you deleted (which you really wanted to do), everyone would notice. People would speculate. Or, you could just go off on Damiano privately. That would be too harsh. But, this is your account— your decision. Do you want to have your cheater boyfriend compliment you the way he did?

You know what, do it later, you thought, turning off your phone and finally, actually, using the restroom.

Once you finished, you exited the stall and walked over to the sinks. You washed your hands, not able to get that damn comment off of your mind.

You walked out of the restroom and back over to the booth, but you didn’t sit down.

“Alex,” you said, standing next to him. “Can I talk to you?” He looked up at you, unsure of what you wanted to talk about, but got up anyway. You grabbed his hand and pulled him outside.

When you two got out there, you sat down on a bench, Alex following your move.

“Is everything alright?” You opened your phone and went to Instagram, showing Alex to comment Damiano left. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what to do, and it is tearing me apart. Do I delete it? Do I keep it? Do I argue with him?”

“Delete the comment, and, Y/N, please, block him on social media. You don’t have to block his number, but you should block him everywhere else.”

“Why not his number,” you asked.

“Because you need closure. At some point, you’re gonna want to text him or call him and try to get some understanding as to why he did what he did. You haven’t actually broken up yet. Maybe that’s how you finish off?”

After a moment of contemplation (again), you nodded your head slowly.

“Ok. Yeah, ok, I’ll do that.” You lowered your head and searched through your following to find Damiano’s account. You clicked the three dots at the top, and looked for the block button.

“You sure this is the right thing to do?”

“Yes. Want me to do it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can do it.”

You looked at the button for a second. You’ve never even thought of blocking him before. I’m your mind, he was the one. Now? Well, you’re blocking him because he cheated on you, so obviously your idea of him completely shifted.

I can do this.

Your hands started shaking slightly, your heart was beating like crazy.

I can do this.

Slowly, you moved your finger over the button.

Click it, it’ll be fine.

And, so, you did. You clicked the button.

You felt free.

———————————————————————-

Taglist for 3yrs — i’m so sorry if i couldn’t tag you!*

@mywritingonlyfans @nientedaridere @pingpongchamps @fairysums @kkjk @blackbluerose666 @thatmeganthing @teenyweenynightghost @ccweasley @lilchickie @katyldamusic @fanfictioncafe @tiaamberxx @butkutee @aboredassho @story-scribbler

*(for those who want to be tagged, please have stuff posted onto your blog and make sure that your blog isn’t censored <3)

[hercleverboy]

unrequited

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ the reader is in love with spencer. he’s not in love her.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ none

word count ↠ 3.4K

“I loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.” — David Jones

It was a cold evening in late September when Y/N told Spencer Reid how she felt. How over the time they’d been friends since she joined the BAU, she’d fallen harder and harder for him, with every smile and every laugh, she loved Spencer just that little bit more. 

The team knew, of course. They were profilers for goodness sake. In  fact, the only member of the team who seemed oblivious to her affections was the man who was the subject of them. With a final push from her best friend Garcia, Y/N had finally decided that night would be the night she told him, confessed that she wanted him and only him for the rest of her days. She hyped herself up, boosted her confidence, told herself that he probably liked her too, right? She was excited to be with him, to live all the dreams she’d had of their life together. Soon, it wasn’t going to just be a crush, they’d be together. 

but nothing’s ever that simple, is it?

It was foolish of her, she supposed. To think for even a second that he would want her like she wanted him. She knew the moment the words left her lips and were met with complete silence that he didn’t feel that way. She could see it in the way his face dropped, how mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to say. 

“I’m in love with you, Spencer.”

say something, anything, don’t make me feel stupid, but please say something- 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

oh god no, oh god, he doesn’t feel the same, you idiot, how could he? you’re you, you’re his- 

“I don’t feel that way about you. You’re my best friend, and I love you, just not in that way.”

you’re his best friend. 

Y/N felt her heart break.

“Oh. Okay.”

That was all she could manage. Her head raced and her chest burned, it burned her like a raging fire within her about to explode- 

“I’m so sorry Y/N.  I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m sorry if I ever said anything that made you think otherwise I-” 

“No, god no Spence. This is my fault. I um- I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

just apologise Y/N, you’re sorry. you’ve ruined everything. 

“Y/N I don’t want things to change between us.” There were tears in his eyes and she wondered why he was the one crying. 

“They won’t, I promise. I’m just gonna need some time, okay?” She asked, moving away from him, putting some space between them seemed like a good idea. 

“Time? What? Please, I don’t want to lose you.” He spluttered, and Y/N wanted to shout but she wouldn’t, she couldn’t, not at him. It wasn’t his fault. 

“You’re not losing me. I swear it. But I need a few days, maybe even weeks to figure things out. Then I’ll be back and better than ever. Okay?” She didn’t even believe the words as they left her lips. Perhaps if she said them enough she’d start to believe them. 

He nodded.

She wiped her tears and gave him a smile, one that she hoped convinced him she was okay, like her throat wasn’t screaming at her, like her heart didn’t feel like it was burning, like she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up. 

“Well, I’m going to go but I’ll see you later okay.” She hated how hard she was trying to make it seem like she was fine. Like his rejection hadn’t killed her inside. 

She left swiftly, and only when she was sat in her car did she let it hit her. She sobbed her heart out, wondering what was wrong with her. Why the only guy she wanted, didn’t want her. She pulled herself together long enough to drive home.

When she stepped over the threshold of her apartment she let everything out again, sliding down against her front door as soon as it shut behind her. She brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed into them. 

She’d never felt a pain like this before. 

It hurt so fucking bad. 

After what felt like hours, she took some deep breaths, wiping her cheeks and pulling out her phone and calling Hotch. 

“Hotchner.”

“Hi Hotch, it’s Y/N I’m just calling to ask if I can take some days off.”

“Can I ask why?”

The question made her feel like breaking down all over again. Apart from Spencer, Penelope and Derek, Hotch was surprisingly one of the people in the team she was closest to. He saw her almost like a daughter.

“Y/N? I know I’m your boss, but you’re like family. You can tell me.” His voice was stern as always, but she knew the caring undertone there was behind it. 

And so she did. She let out a heart-wrenching cry, “I told Spencer how I feel. He doesn’t feel the same.” She whimpered out, still trying to hold it together but everything just hurt so badly. “I just need a few days or maybe even weeks to figure out everything. But I promise when I get back I’ll be ready to work, better than ever. I just can’t work alongside him whilst it’s still so fresh.” 

“I completely understand Y/N. Take as much time as you need. You’ll have your place on the team when you’re ready to come back. And as for Spencer, it’s really his loss.” 

“Thank you Hotch. I’ll check in with you in a few days.” She finished, hanging up the call. 

And that was that. 

What followed was 3 weeks of Y/N moping around her apartment.

The first week she was sad. 

She spent it crying into pints of various flavours of ice cream as she watched shitty romantic films on Netflix. She decided she just needed to let herself feel it. She couldn’t push away the pain. She had to let herself feel angry and upset in order to get through her emotions and come out stronger.

Spencer didn’t love her, at least not in the way she wanted him to. She was going to have to deal with that.

Penelope visited, and they’d sit together as Y/N explained her upset and Penelope held her as she cried. Derek visited too, and at first he was angry at Spencer for hurting her, but Y/N assured him it was okay, that she’d get over it. Hotch called every day to check up on her, like the fatherly figure he was, just to double check she was doing okay. Spencer tried to contact her, but she didn’t answer. Not to be petty, but she was trying to forget that she was so very in love with him, and texting him would only make that worse.

The second week, she was angry. 

She tried numerous hobbies to deflect her pain. Anytime she thought of Spencer, she would bake a batch of cookies or a cake, and get Penelope to take them in for the team next time she visited her. 

Many times during the second week, she had wrecked her apartment in her anger. She would go through spouts of pure rage where she threw some things and shattered others. (Honestly she had to fork out a lot of money on new glasses and mugs because she kept throwing them at walls.)

She wasn’t angry at Spencer. Okay, she was a little bit, but not really. It wasn’t his fault. You don’t choose who you fall in love with, after all. She was angry at herself for falling for someone who would obviously never want her. 

how could you have been so stupid?

She was angry that no one seemed to want her. That’s all she wanted, love and affection and she couldn’t seem to get it. No matter how hard she tried.

Finally, with the third week came acceptance.

She was beginning to get over Spencer Reid. It would be a long and hard journey, but she was strong, she could do it. The thought of him rejecting her love still hurt, but it no longer burned her. She could handle being his best friend, she could handle working alongside him.

She was ready to face the world, and him. 

When she stepped through the doors of the bullpen, after nearly a month of absence, she was met with a chorus of happy gasps and cheers.

“There she is! Hey Pretty Girl.” Derek, who’d become like a brother to her was the first to speak as he came up, wrapping his arms around her in a brotherly hug, lifting her off the ground. “You feeling better?” He murmured.

“Yes, I am, Thank you D.” She smiled, using the nickname she’d given him a few weeks after she started. 

“Oh! My turn!” Penelope smiled, hugging Y/N as soon as Derek released her.

“Pen! I saw you like two days ago.” Y/N laughed.

“And that was two days too many, my love.”

She also got hugs from Rossi, JJ and Emily, who had all missed her bright laughter and happy energy around the office and on cases.

“Y/N.” Hotch’s voice made her turn around to face him, and he wore a rare smile on his lips. “Glad to see you’re back. You ready to work?” He asked, bringing her in for a short hug.

“Yes sir.” She said sarcastically with a laugh, before she turned to the last person anxiously waiting to greet her.

“Hey, Spence.” She smiled, and it was genuine. She felt good.

“Hi, Y/N. I missed you.” He had missed her. Terribly. 

“I missed you too. Come here.” She smiled, opening her arms. He seemed surprised she wanted to hug him, but she really did. To prove there was no bad blood between them. To prove she really was moving on, and doing a damn good job of it. When he didn’t move, she threw her arms around him, smiling. And he hugged her back. He felt guilty, of course. Any member of the team could tell you he spent three weeks on edge, the guilt swallowing him whole. When she didn’t answer his texts it only got worse. It took Derek reminding him that she was in love with him, and that he’d really hurt her by rejecting her. That it was going to take her time and that she needed the separation to heal herself and her heart.

When she pulled back, she still had a smile on her lips, and Spencer didn’t need to be a profiler to know it was a real one.

“Let’s catch some bad guys, yeah?” She smirked.

Y/N kept her earlier promise to Spencer. They really were fine. Their relationship hadn’t changed at all. They still ate takeout and watched Doctor Who together on Saturday nights when they weren’t away on a case. They sat opposite to one another on the jet like they used to, Spencer trying to teach Y/N how to play chess but failing, because she wasn’t quite grasping the concept yet but she’d get there with his help. They still played around in the bullpen on boring, rainy paperwork days. Either teasing Derek or seeing how long they could get up to no good before Hotch told them off. (Well, he’d tell them off but you could see the small smile on his lips.)

They laughed and joked just like before and everything was great.

Some days when Y/N got home, she would let herself feel a little upset, but those days were few and far between. 

and then finally, after six hard months, Y/N could confidently say she was over Spencer Reid.

The team had been away for a week on a gruelling case, and on the jet home Rossi decided that the next night, they would have a dinner party at his house, just as a well done to the team for the good work. Hotch agreed it was a good idea, and so the next night, 7pm sharp, everyone began showing up to Rossi’s for a night of dancing, drinking and laughing with their little family.

Y/N arrived a little later, apologising for being late and greeting everyone with hugs.

“My lovely you look absolutely stunning!” Penelope, who had already had one too many fruity cocktails, gasped as she hugged her.

Y/N blushed and thanked her. She was wearing a peach coloured midi dress, that complimented her figure beautifully. She paired that with peach pink heels that matched the dress. It wasn’t much but she did look stunning.

 Or so Spencer thought.

Why did he think that? She was his best friend. But he couldn’t deny she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Little did she know, but over the last two weeks Spencer had started to feel something more for Y/N. He hadn’t really figured it out how or even why yet. 

She moved to greet him last, wrapping her arms around him with a giggle. “Hey Spence.”

“Hey. You look uh- you look beautiful.” He smiled, and she smiled too as she pulled back.

“Oh well Thankyou, Dr. You don’t look too shabby yourself.” She teased, before moving off to speak to Derek.

Spencer found himself watching her as she walked. He noticed how when she laughed, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. How her smile seemed to brighten the room. How she was so effortlessly beautiful and he didn’t know how he’d never seen her like that before.

What had changed?

Later they were all sat around the dinner table, finishing up the gorgeous main meal rossi had cooked for them. They were all chatting amongst themselves. Derek, Emily and Y/N were deep in conversation on their end of the table with  Spencer sat next to Y/N, not really listening as Derek told them about his most recent sexual encounter.

“Gross, Derek. Don’t you want to find yourself a nice girl?” Y/N asked in a teasing manner.

“Alright Pretty Girl, how about you? You got anyone you want to tell us about?”

Y/N looked down as a blush tinted her cheeks.

Emily gasped. “That means yes!”

Derek held his hand out for a fist bump. “My girl! She’s finally got herself a man!” 

That caught Spencer’s attention.

Y/N rolled her eyes and fist bumped him with a small smile. “He’s not my man. At least not yet anyway. His name’s Jasper. We’ve been on a few dates, but I really like him. And I think it could go somewhere.” Emily and Derek cheered for her, and playfully toasted their drinks to her and Jasper.

Spencer, however, felt an odd feeling burn in the pit of his stomach at the mention of this Jasper guy being  ‘her man’. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t jealousy but as the night wore on it became blatantly obvious that that’s exactly what it was.

“You didn’t mention Jasper to me.” Spencer said as they gently swayed together. Everyone had been dancing. Y/N had danced with Derek as well has Hotch, and now danced slowly with her best friend.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just really new and I didn’t want to jinx anything.” She smiled up at him, and his grip tightened on her waist slightly. “I just- I really like this guy. He likes all the same stuff as me, and we get along really well.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about him, thanks.” Spencer spat coldly, taking Y/N by surprise.

“Woah, what was that?” She asked, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“You’ve been talking about him all night. I was just saying you should give it a rest okay? I don’t care about this Jasper guy.” He snarled, ripping himself away from her and leaving the garden, going inside the house.

Derek looked at her in confusion from across the patio and she shrugged, mouthing that she’d go after him and see what was wrong.

She found him out on a balcony connected to one of the bedrooms.

“Spence?” She asked quietly. “What’s going on with you?”

He looked back at her and scoffed, shaking his head. She frowned. “Come on, you’re my best friend. You can tell me.”

“I don’t want to hear about how some guy has you, when I want you to be mine.” He mumbled, and Y/N struggled to hear him.

“I don’t understand, Spence?” She asked, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath. “I love you.”

She giggled. “Oh, I love you too, Spence. But seriously, what’s up?”

He shook his head again, more determinedly. “No you don’t understand. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Her hand dropped from his shoulder. “You’re what?”

“I’m in love with you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out but I finally did.” He smiled, expecting her to be relieved. Didn’t she love him too?

“Spencer I don’t-“ She tried to figure out what to say. “I don’t feel that way about you anymore.”

“What? You don’t just fall out of love with people that quickly, Y/N!” He was angry, and that made anger rise in Y/N too. What right did he have to be angry?

“I had no choice but to! What was I supposed to do? My best friend who I’d loved for years rejected me. I had to work alongside you Spence, I couldn’t risk losing my job over it. So I dealt with the pain of you breaking my heart.”

Spencer seemed to be understanding now. “Y/N I-“

“No, Spencer! I spent 3 weeks absolutely fucking heartbroken over you. I cried to Penelope and Derek more times than I could count. I got angry and I broke glasses and dishes. I looked myself in the mirror nearly every day and asked myself why I wasn’t good enough for you. But then you know what? I picked myself up. I fixed the heart that you broke, and I am so incredibly proud of myself. So you, Spencer Reid, have no right to stand there and tell me you love me after what I went through six months ago.” She was furious, how dare he? just when her life was getting good, when she’d met a nice guy that she really liked, Spencer had to ruin everything. All her hard work, everything she’d put into fixing herself seemed to start to crack.

“Y/N I’m sorry but I had to tell you how I felt, I can’t live without you knowing I love yo-“

“Shut up!” She yelled. “Don’t say it, please don’t say it.” She cried.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“You’re selfish, Spencer! You know that? You’re the most selfish man I’ve ever met. How could you do this to me?” She asked, exasperated.

He couldn’t seem to find an appropriate answer.

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” She shook her head and quickly left the balcony, rushing out the room and down the stairs with tears in her eyes as Spencer called after her desperately.

Her teary eyes met Derek’s as she reached the bottom step, and he was immediately at her side, holding her into him as she cried.

“I have to get out of here, Derek. I’ll tell you everything, just, take me home please?” She asked and he nodded. Just as Spencer came down the staircase after her, calling out her name again.

Derek looked between Y/N in his arms, and Spencer who stood at the bottom of the staircase with tears in his own eyes. It didn’t take a profiler to figure out something bad had gone down.

“Y/N please-“ Spencer tried, moving towards her but Derek held his hand out as a signal for him to stop.

“Stay there, Reid. Haven’t you done enough?” He spat, venom in his words.

Spencer was easily one of Derek’s best friends on the team. But he very quickly grew very protective of Y/N, taking a sort of elderly brother role to her. He knew what she’d been through to pick herself up after Spencer, and he’d had to watch as the woman he considered a sister tore herself apart for three weeks. and so god help him If whatever had just happened between them led to her hard work being ruined. He’d rip that kid a new one.

Spencer watched as Derek comforted Y/N, leading her outside to the car. As the doors closed behind them, the team gathered around behind Spencer, asking him what had happened. But all he could do was stare after her helplessly, tears trembling down his own cheeks.

[blissfulsun]

based on this & this lovely request❣️✨

word count: 1,926

What are we? // Jeff Wittek

Jealousy is an ugly emotion. A little green monster that grips at you and lodges in your throat. 

Jeff hates the feeling, despises its cause as he watches you laugh at something David whispers to you in the crowded room, swapping secrets and elbowing each other back and forth without a single care for anyone else around. 

He knows he has no right to be angry with anyone other than himself, you’re just friends, nothing more nothing less, just as Dave is one of his closest friends too. 

It doesn’t make the ridiculous possessiveness rumbling in his chest any less apparent, especially when he remembers what got him here in the first place. 

The memory of your vulnerable expression still a permanent feature in his mind, how your posture slightly deflated when he finally answered the pained question you’ve been holding to yourself for so long. What are we? 

How you left his apartment in a hurry when Jeff finally stopped staring at you with a helpless look in his eyes, coughing awkwardly before he finally gathered his bearing enough to ramble on in a stuttered speech that more or less could be shortened to ‘I’m not ready for anything serious’ 

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, easy to spot towering over other people and with numerous beautiful women within his vicinity. 

Jeff’s always the centre of attention in every room, you’d know, it’s how you met him all those years back, in his Miami days, before your paths crossed again here, in LA a couple of months back. 

Your mind flashes back to that fateful night last week when he looks in your direction and you make eye contact that lasts for less than a second before your gaze returns to the friend as your side. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, to ask. What are we? 

He holds your hand and cuddles you in your bed or his couch wraps his arm around your waist from behind when a stranger starts a conversation with you or loops his fingers through your jeans as your group of friends enters every party, scanning the crowd and frowning at the numerous sets of eyes that follow your every step. 

But he won’t kiss you. Never lets words of exposed affection slip past his lips unless it's late at night and he thinks you’ve already fallen asleep with your head on his chest or in the crook of your neck. 

The night carries on, the party goes on in hours of drinking and endless fun as you stick to David’s side. 

He’s one of the first people in the group you made friends with, felt close to immediately just from the warm presence he exudes, your childlike tendencies reflecting each other’s youthful side. 

You remain completely oblivious to the tear in Jeff’s armour, growing bigger with every booming laugh and smile swapped between you and the messy-haired brunet, arms looped together as you follow each other around. Jeff doesn’t speak to you at all that night. 

The quiet prevailing even as only you two, David and Natalie remain in the car, the pretty assistant snoring quietly in the back of the Tesla. 

You’re sat in the front seat, music playing quietly from the stereo Dave’s turned on once he’s realised no one is willing to break the silence that’s coated the car when Zane’s stumbled out with a last drunken goodbye kiss to your cheek through the open window. 

You’ve only had a couple of drinks yourself, stomach heavy with something harder to swallow than any alcohol. 

David senses your unease, eyes flickering between your zoned out expression and Jeff’s stone cold one in the backseat before he picks up a conversation, words gentle as he asks you about something or other to keep your mind occupied.

It works. Well enough to have you laughing with your head thrown back just as he stops outside of your apartment building. 

You don’t worry about waking Nat up, well aware the girl is dead to the world with the number of shots she took with your friends earlier in the night. 

Your eyes soften, head leaning against the headrest of your seat as you sigh once the laughter shaking your chest calms down. 

You don’t even think about it as it happens, hand reaching out in your slightly tipsy state to grasp David’s own on the steering wheel to squeeze affectionately in a silent thanks. 

He understands what it is you’re thankful for without words. Nodding as he says his goodbye. 

Jeff watches it all happen, ear attuned to every happy sound that ever leaves your mouth. 

Sad eyes following your every move out of habit, the weight in his chest crushingly heavy as your small hand wraps around someone else's. 

His ears perk up as Dave shouts an ‘I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight!’ To which you nod and shut the car door behind you. 

It hurts almost as bad as the realisation that you didn’t say goodbye to him. 

The hope that disillusioned him into thinking this would be like any other night, that you’d turn around in your seat, or better yet, in his lap, where you usually sit in the car and ask him to stay the night, dwindling in his chest as David starts the Tesla back up and turns the corner on your street, your building disappearing out of sight while you remained deeply ingrained in his mind. 

Jeff hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol. Never usually drinks anyway, but even more so ever since you’ve started hanging out with them, forgetting about having a beer or two in favour of remaining sober in order to look out for you or after you at the end of the night as you giggle against his chest and demand him to cuddle you every single time without a fail. It’s a pattern he’s grown to love. 

Almost as much as he loves the girl that he thinks is going on a date with one of his best friends in a couple of hours. 

David doesn’t get to ask him what’s been up with him, with both of you, all night, or even for the past couple of days as he keeps his eyes closed and head leaning against the cold window, pretending to be asleep until he feels the car park. 

‘Thanks’ Jeff’s goodbye is short, hand falling atop of his friend’s shoulder before the door shuts behind him and he stalks away to the entrance of his building. 

David watches on, head shaking in exasperation at just how stubborn two people can be before he drives off home. 

Falling asleep isn’t an easy fit for Jeff that night. Body twisting and turning under his sheets even as two turns to three in the morning before he finally decided he’s had enough. 

The knocking wakes you from your light slumber, stumbling out of bed and to the door where you first check the peephole before opening the door to find Jeff on the other side. 

He looks frantic, eyes a little red and movements frantic as he storms past your sleepy self, your hair a mess and one of his t-shirts adorning your body. 

You yawn, closing the door behind the man before you turn to look at him walking up and down the length of your hallway. 

It’s quiet still, the only sound being his heavy steps before Jeff stops, turns on the spot to face you again and say: 

‘I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?! I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out how you can go from spending every night at mine to suddenly going out with someone else - one of my best friends! Just like that. It’s not fair y/n! You can’t just -’ 

He pauses in his speech, words lulled at the sight of your eyebrow raised in a challenge before his shoulders drop in defeat. 

‘He’s not good enough for you’ Jeff finally resonates. 

You can’t help but let the delusional giggle slip past your mouth, brain still lagging with sleep as you chortle and reply, ‘He’s your friend!’ in exasperation. 

‘I’m not good enough for you either.’ His reply makes you pause, laughter dying in your throat. 

You watch Jeff groan, hands safely tucked in the pockets of his sweats as he shrugs. 

‘What I mean is...no one is, good enough for you, alright?’ While you’re lost in your own thoughts spiralling from his words and endlessly mixed signals, Jeff uses the opportunity to close the distance between you, hands leaving his pockets to wrap around your waist gently and pull you closer, missing having you next to him like this. 

‘Last week...’ Jeff clears his throat when you look up at him, pretty features defiant but eyes curious. 

‘When I said I didn’t want anything serious, any labels...’ he stammers. 

The reminder that someone, anyone, could swoop in and see you for what you are: the best girl, his girl, and take you away, just like that, is enough to light a fire. 

‘What I meant was, I’m scared of being serious, of us, this’ his confession aided by the tightening of his fingers around your frame. 

‘Of what we already are without ever saying it out loud before. Doll, you mean everything to me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that when you asked me to clear it up. I know you’ve been patient with me and you have this date with David tomo-’ You interrupt him with a kiss. 

A simple peck that’s intended to shut him up for a second. 

It’s effective, rendering the man speechless long enough to allow you to clarify. ‘I love you. I’m not going on a date with Dave, or anyone, if it isn’t you.’ 

The look of confusion that passes Jeff’s face is adorable enough for you to reach up on your tiptoes and lay another sweet kiss on his mouth, one he eagerly reciprocates, one hand flying to rest in the nape of your neck while he pulls you closer against his chest. 

Jeff pulls away eventually, breath heavy and eyes closed as he lays his forehead against your own. 

‘What about? I thought you two - tonight?’ You giggle again, his heart doing somersaults against his ribcage at the sweet sound, one he’s missed so dearly, especially when he hasn’t been the cause of it for the last seven days. 

‘We’re going to set up a prank at Jason’s house with Ilya while he’s out’ you explain. 

Jeff lets out a sigh, shoulders dropping and body relaxing at your words before his eyes open and arms wrap around you to pick you up. 

You squeal in surprise, hands flying to wrap around his neck as he walks to your bedroom. 

‘Let’s get you to bed baby, I know how sleepy you get when you drink & I wanna take my girl out for breakfast today’ You yawn, only confirming his observation.

‘Like a date?’ you can’t help but tease, watching him take his sweats off and crawl under the covers on his side of the bed, arm reaching out for you before he pulls you into him and wraps it around your waist. 

‘Like a date’ Jeff confirms, words whispered into your hairline but you hear the smile that’s there as you begin to drift off. 

‘I love you so much baby’ he adds. You both fall asleep with smiles on your lips.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 7/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 7: I Never Trusted My Own Eyes

The days came and went in a blur, busying themselves with mundane chores and simple meals spent dining by candlelight. Killian would tell her tales of the sea, his time as a Lieutenant in the Navy. Sometimes he would sing her a song, a soft melody that would make her heart flutter and her heart ache for a future with him. Each day the moisture would recede into the dirt, drying the roads and carrying them closer to the end of whatever it was they were doing.

And yet with each morning, there would be another excuse as to why it wasn’t a good idea for him to drive into town. Sometimes he would determine that the roads out of the forest were probably still too wet, other times she would tell him she felt too ill to be left alone. But they knew that eventually they would both run out of excuses. She could see it in his eyes each time he lied or made up a reason to stay. She knew they were living on borrowed time. Making memories that would soon be just that.

A memory of the past.

She was sure she would never forget the care he took with her or the way he pleasured her in their bed, his body claiming hers as she sang his name every night. For she was his. At least for the moment.

She’s sure the look of disappointment is heavy in her eyes when he announces suddenly that today is the day he needs to go to town. They are low on supplies since he had only purchased enough for one person. Feeding two of them had quickly eliminated his stock. He kissed her forehead, not making eye contact as he climbed into the truck, pulling away from the cabin before she could run out and beg him to stay. They had run out of time.

~*~

Killian didn’t look back as he pulled away from the cabin, leaving her behind. He knew if he saw her standing there in the doorway he would turn around and never leave her. He needed to do this, for her. He needed to find her home, where she belonged, who she belonged to.

They always knew this was temporary.

The roads were more than dry, he was aware he had delayed for many days, knowing that she had done the same. She was quick to make an excuse to keep him there, with her. But when he woke up, her fingers tangled in his chest hair, her blonde locks across his neck, his heart told him that he couldn’t delay any longer. She needed to go before he gave into his darkness and refused to allow her to leave. She wouldn’t become his hostage and he wouldn’t allow her to choose to live in his prison.

He reached the town, pulling into the parking spot in front of the store he frequented. He would go in, purchase his supplies, listen for any buzz about a missing woman, and if there was nothing, he would return home knowing that he tried. If nothing were to come of his trip, then maybe it was fate that she was to stay another month.

Gathering his supplies, he kept his head to the ground, not making eye contact with anyone in the store. He listened as they talked about their day, apparently a deer had caused some havoc at the town hall, stomping rose bushes and eating the honeysuckle trees. It was strange hearing such normal life going on around him, realizing that he had been enjoying his own mundane life back at the cabin with her. He approached the register, smiling at the woman who knew him as Rogers.

“You’re back sooner than usual.”

He nodded, “Aye, figured with the storm it was a good idea to stock up.”

“That was a big one. Glad the rains have finally stopped, maybe now they can resume that search.”

Killian’s heart stopped. “What are they searching for?”

“Some rich guy’s fiancé disappeared up here a few weeks ago. They dragged the lake but haven’t found her yet and then the storm hit. Been stuck for days just waiting it out. The whole family’s been holed up in the motel at the end of town. Sad. She’s probably dead.” She whispered at the end.

“Who’s the lass?” He questioned, trying to control the pitch of his voice. “The one who’s missing? You know in case I see anything near me.”

She pointed to the door, “Emma Nolan. Her pictures posted outside on the window.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.” He said as he passed the money to the woman and gathered his bags. He tentatively approached the window, hoping that the picture was some other woman, not his Swan. But the moment he saw the flier, the blonde hair displayed with the large smile on her face, he knew it was her.

Emma Nolan, fiancé to Walsh Oz. She was getting married. The man in the photo stared back at him in a three-piece suit. He looked stuffy and obnoxious, and not the kind of man he imagined his Swan being in love with. He tried to feel shame for taking this man’s beloved, but in the moments when he was inside her, when she was staring at him like he was the most amazing man in the world, she was his Swan. Not this Nolan woman.

“Sad tale.” He jumped at the voice behind him, turning to see the Sheriff approaching him. “Beautiful woman on a weekend trip with friends falls over the old waterfall and disappears without a trace.”

“I heard.” He offered flatly. “Sad indeed.”

“You wouldn’t have seen anything down your way, would you? We haven’t been able to reach your neck of the woods due to the storm. Perhaps you’ve noticed something?”

“Wish I could say I had.” He lied. “But I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

“It would be a shame if that woman’s family didn’t get her home to marry her husband. He has a lot of money he’s paying this town to find her. I’m sure she comes with a hefty reward.”

“As I said, I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

The Sheriff turned away from him, “We’ll be by your place soon, for the search.” He warned and Killian sighed. Time’s up.

He ripped the flyer off the window, pocketing it as he returned to his truck. Depositing his groceries in the back he climbed into the front seat and pulled the flyer from his pocket. “Dammit.” He cursed. The photo of her was a happy one. She appeared to be out for the evening, a bright smile across her face. The photo of her parents portrayed a loving couple, who were most likely going mad without their daughter.

One good deed, he thought.

~*~

Emma swore she wasn’t checking the road when she passed the window. She told herself she wasn’t waiting anxiously for him to return home. But she knew she was. She wanted to know what he had found, hoping that his search was fruitless, and he would return to tell her that they would search again in a month. She wanted nothing more than to stay here in their happy little fairytale. She didn’t need to know who she was. She was happy here. She could be happy here.

She knew it was her fear of the unknown. What if she had a life that wasn’t all she had wished for. He had found her in some trashy lingerie, naked and alone. Not knowing, not being able to piece together the puzzle was frustrating to her, it was part of the reason she gave up trying to remember. It made her angry to be so close to seeing a vision of her past only to have it disappear in a haze of nothing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know her name. She had come up with all kinds of names for herself. She thought she might be happy being called Evelyn or Elizabeth. Maybe she’d even learn to love her new name more than whatever her own was.

She heard the truck door slam shut and she hopped to the window, watching as Killian gathered the bags from the back of the truck. He had a frown on his face which gave her pause. When he opened the door, she stared at him anxiously. “How was town?”

“I found everything on the list.” He said, ignoring her question. He set the bags on the table, and she walked over to them, taking things out to help him put them away. She reached in and pulled out the bread and a handful of cheese slices packed in a plastic sleeve. He knew how much she loved grilled cheese. She found additional cocoa and a packet of cinnamon at the bottom of the bag; she couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on her face.

“I was thinking I’d make grilled cheese for lunch.” He said softly.

“That sounds lovely.” She felt like skipping to the cold box to store the food but stopped when he spoke.

“Emma…” She turned to face him, unsure why the name fell from his lips.

“Excuse me?” She asked confused.

“Emma Nolan.” He said as he shoulders slumped. “That’s your name.”

“Of course, it’s not. I don’t recognize it at all.” She turned back to the food, depositing the items in their places.

“Well, it is. I’ve seen the photo.”

“Well, I don’t care, I don’t know that name, so you’re wrong.” She was agitated, angry at him for not listening to her.

He fished into his pocket, yanking a crumpled paper out of his pants, and unraveling it near her face. “That’s you. Emma Nolan. And that’s your parents, David and Mary Margaret.” He paused. “This is your fiancé, Walsh Oz.”

She tore the paper from his hands. “Walsh Oz, what a ridiculous name, there is no way I would marry someone with the last name Oz, it’s too…” She shook her head staring at the photos in front of her. She didn’t recognize the people on the flyer, only her face. The people who were supposed to be her parents might as well have been anyone else on the planet. Imposters. The man, Walsh, she was sure there was no way she would marry a man who looked like that. This wasn’t her life, it couldn’t be. She tossed the paper onto the table.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t care what that says.” The tears welled up in her eyes and she hopped to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, and throwing herself on the bed.

“Swan, I’m coming in.” His voice was shaky, uneven, almost like he was ready to break as much as she had. The door opened and she looked up from the bed.

“Don’t call me Emma.” She warned.

“Fine. But we need to talk.” He sat on the bed, taking her hand. “I called them.”

“What?” She yelled, yanking her hand away from him. “Why? Why would you do that without talking to me?”

“Em…Love, they are your parents. They have a right to know that you aren’t dead. They were very worried about you.”

“It wasn’t your decision.” She cried.

“You were on a trip. A lovely trip with your best friends, I believe it was a girl’s trip before your wedding. You were supposed to have gotten married the weekend you disappeared.”

“Emma Oz.” She blurted out. “It’s preposterous.”

He reached for her hand again. “I told them I would bring you to them this evening. Once I had the chance to talk to you, to prepare you. They know you don’t have your memories.”

“I don’t want to go.” She cried, leaning into his neck, and sobbing against his collar. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Emma, I wish to tell you something. Something that I believe will help your decision to return to where you belong.”

~*~

She sat up, staring into his uneasy blue eyes, he wiped the tears from the corner of her lids, kissing her forehead before turning away from her. “I’ve told you that I have done things in my life that I’m not proud of. I was not a good man, Emma.” He gulped. “Years ago, after I left the Navy, I found myself struggling to make ends meet for my wife and baby daughter, Alice. We were living in a bad neighborhood, Milah was getting hassled by some of our neighbors, men who were not the sort who backed down when confronted.” He stood up from the bed, pacing in front of the window.

“My brother always told me I was stubborn, that I didn’t listen to reason. He was right of course, and because of that, because I didn’t listen to him, I lost everything.”

“The explosion?”

“It was more than that. I bought a gun, I stood up to these men, told them to leave the neighborhood. They did for a time. And then I met a man, Neal Cassidy. His father was the head of the Gold Mafia. He had heard about the stand I took with the men in our apartment. They were from a rival gang that his father was looking to snuff out. He offered me some jobs. His father paid me well. It started off simple, a few snatch and grab’s, small time theft. But I didn’t realize that the further I went, the more I was getting into the dirty side of their business.”

He felt his chest contracting with each word. Afraid to carry on but knowing that she needed to hear the truth, she needed to understand why it was better for her to go. To get as far away from him as possible.

“I tried to get out, God knows Milah begged me. But I was suddenly bringing in money, I was able to provide for my family and it felt good to be that man. Then Gold picked me to go on a job with his son. No one was supposed to get hurt. That was my rule, I would take things, but I never hurt people. But Neal, he operated differently. He didn’t let anyone get in his way. And on this night, someone fought back, they wouldn’t give up the treasure we had come to seek. I walked away, but Neal, he shot the man.”

“Oh my God.” Emma’s hand went to her mouth, and he turned away from her before he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“The man died; he was supposed to be alone. Neal told me he had no one with him. The boy came out of his bedroom, he couldn’t have been older than 6. He was crying, calling for his father. I told Neal we needed to leave, but he said we couldn’t leave any witnesses. The moment he pointed his gun at that boy’s head, something inside me snapped. I shot Neal.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” She said, her voice wavering.

“I killed him, Emma. In cold blood. I murdered Neal Cassidy and left him there. I called 9-1-1 and ran.”

“What does this have to do with the explosion?”

“When Gold found out about Neal, he knew I was the one on the job with him. It didn’t take long for his goons to find me, they roughed me up, wanted me to admit I was the one who killed Neal. I refused. And then Gold threatened my family.”

“Oh Killian.”

“I thought if I talked that he’d just kill me and move on. But instead, he wanted me to suffer.” He bowed his head. “He followed my brother one evening, shot him in the head and left him in an alley to bleed out. He called me on the phone, told me that I still had time to save him. I raced to the location, even found him, he was dying, unconscious. When my phone rang, I heard his voice. He was laughing, he told me that I would feel the same pain he did. My blood ran cold, as soon as the ambulance arrived, I raced home only to find the cops waiting, fire burning outside my building. They were already gone.”

He leaned against the wall, daring to glance at her. “I turned state’s evidence on Gold. In exchange for my testimony, I only had to serve a 5-year sentence and I then was free.”

She stood up and walked toward him. “Killian, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t give me your pity. I don’t deserve your sorrow. I deserve what happened to me. But you don’t deserve to be trapped in my pain. You have a home, a life. You look happy in that photo. You’ll find that again. Once you go back, you’ll remember who you are.”

“I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be this Emma Nolan or Oz or whatever they expect me to be. I’m not her. I want to be with you.”

He sighed, pulling her into his arms. “Swan. You can’t stay. You don’t belong here.”

“You don’t want me.” She sobbed and his heart broke.

“Look at me.” He hooked his finger under her chin, pulling her tear-soaked face toward him. “I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... that is, until I met you.” He kissed the bridge of her nose, peppering soft touches across her cheek until he brushed against her lips, kissing her mouth. He felt his knees threatening to buckle under him, the weight of the moment pulling him under. “But alas, it was but a dream. And with all dreams, you have to wake up.” He whispered.

“I don’t even know them.”

“But you will.”

“You’ll go with me?”

“Aye.” He said sadly, reveling in the fact that she needed him with her, but knowing he would have to leave her all the same. He pulled away from her, walking to the dresser to pull out new clothes for her to wear. Setting them on the bed and patting them with his hand. “You can keep these until you get something more acceptable that fit you.”

He tried to smile in her direction as his heart broke into a million pieces.

“For the record, you’re still my hero. I don’t care how much you want me to believe otherwise, what you did is your past, and I am going to choose to see the good in you.” She took her clothes and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her as he dropped to his knees and cried.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Thoughts on Jane Birkin? - Talented elegant actor-musician-model? Overrated at everything but she was pretty? Or, never thought about it, but she did design a nice bag for Hermes?

My thoughts about Jane Birkin is that she is and will always remain an all round feminine icon. Plain and simple.

That’s not just my contrarian view because she was an icon that overlapped into my grandparents’ and parents’ generation of the late 60s and 70s but it’s also the view of many French today too. I knew of her because her songs alongside Françoise Hardy and other French chanteuse were always playing on my parents stereo system growing up overseas. Indeed so well-documented is the love affair between Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, that to picture it retrospectively is to watch a flickering series of film stills in one’s mind. Enter the young British actress in 1970s Paris, basket swinging nonchalantly from one arm, baby daughter clasped carefully in the other, dancing down Boulevard Saint-Germain with the thoughtful French musician’s adoring figure at her side. They loved, smoked and fought fervently, their ten-year-long affair an archetype of that between musician and muse in bohemian Paris, and 40 years after its dissolution, the French still can’t get enough.

As you allude to in your question, she has famously said of herself and Serg Gainsbourg that, “He was a great man. I was just pretty.” Which has led a small minority - especially those in her native England - to be dismissive of her as a long forgotten pretty face of the 70s and who was over-rated because she was nothing without riding on the coat tails of the crooning bad boy, Gainsbourg. On the face of it it was a very disingenuous remark to make because Gainsbourg was indeed a great man (as a musician and French cultural male icon) but she was so much more than a pretty face. I strongly suggest that she was just being her usual self-deprecating Anglo-self and one who remains to be a tad embarrassed at 73 years old to be continued to be lauded as a genuine timeless French style and chanteuse icon.

No one can doubt that Jane Birkin has always had some talent as an artist. Birkin has enjoyed a long career in the arts as a singer, songwriter, actress, and director. Her longevity is one proof of her staying power. Arguably though, it is her reputation as a style icon, and more specifically being the namesake of the iconic Hermès Birkin bag for which she is best known today. She might well have been Gainsbourg’s baby doll (his words) but she was very much her own popular muse and actress.

This may surprise many but Jane Birkin has appeared in over 70 films over several decades. As an actress it is often forgotten how good she is because most of her films were made in France and she rarely did films outside of France.

She was already known even before she hooked up with Gainsbourg. She was born in 1946 to an actress mother, Judy Campbell, and her Royal Navy lieutenant-commander and spy, David Birkin. Her mother was an acclaimed actress of her generation and muse to the older Noel Coward. She had a typical upbringing that one might call comfortably posh upper middle class. She was already married at 17 to film composer, John Barry (yes, the same John Barry who composed all the music for the James Bond films and other Hollywood films (Out of Africa, Dances with Wolves, Cotton Club etc) in 1965 but divorced in 1968 with custody of their daughter. Birkin quickly became part of the swinging London scene in the 1960s and appeared briefly in a handful of films.

Birkin was already well known but it was her nude turn in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow-Up that really put her on the map. Even today it’s seen as one of the iconic films of the swinging sixties.

She famously arrived in Paris unable to speak French with her newborn daughter in her arms. The story goes that she was offered the lead role in the 1968 French film Slogan alongside Gainsbourg after sobbing through her screen test. Starring alongside Serge Gainsbourg, Birkin performed with him on the movie’s theme song. It was on that film set that they would begin their truly passionate relationship as well as artistic collaborations throughout the 1970s.

Indeed a year later in 1969 they both released the song that has forever defined them both to non-French people around the world, the duet  “Je t’aime…moi non plus” which was met with scandal and disapproval by the Vatican and banned in many countries.

It may have solidified Birkin’s status as the British-born emblem of French chic but in all honesty it also drowned out her notable acting talents. Although Birkin took a brief hiatus from acting to return as Bardot's lover in the 1973 film Don Juan or If Don Juan Were A Woman (for which she got rave reviews because she held her own against Bardot),

it was only until 1975 in Gainsbourg’s own first film Je t’aime…moi non plus that her acting was properly honoured. Again, because of the damn song, people forget that she was nominated for Best Actress César Award (The French version of the Oscars or the Brit’s version of the BAFTAs). To be nominated for a César as best actress in a culture of truly talented actresses is saying something.

This wasn’t a flash in the pan. She was nominated again in 1984 for Best Actress César Award for her role as Alma in La Pirate  - directed by her then partner, Jacques Doillon with whom she did another critically acclaimed film La Fille Prodigue (1981). Her work led her to work on stage with critically acclaimed directors such as Patrice Chéreau. She worked with director Herbert Vesely on Egon Schiele Exzess und Bestrafung in 1980, appearing as the mistress of Austrian artist Egon Schiele, played by Mathieu Carrière. Jacques Rivette collaborated with her in Love on the Ground (1983). The jury of the 1985 Venice Film Festival recognised Birkin's performance in Dust as amongst the best of the year, but decided not to award a best actress prize because it was decided by the jury that all of the actresses they judged to have made the best performances were in films that already won major awards - Dust won the Silver Lion prize so she lost out.

In 1991 she was again nominated for a César Award but this time as best supporting actress in the classic La Belle Noiseuse directed by Jacques Rivette and starring Michel Piccoli and Emmanuelle Béart.

She did of course English films but much more sporadically. She put in a famous turn in both the delightful Hercule Poirot movies starring Peter Ustinov, Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun. She also appeared in Merchant Ivory's A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries (1998) (which also used her song "Di Doo Dah”). In 2016 she had the lead role in La femme et le TGV, a short film directed by Swiss filmmaker Timo von Gunten. The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Live Action Short Film. I believe after it was widely reported that she had no plans to return to acting.

I think it’s the parochialism of the Anglo cultural world that has led to this misconception that she wasn’t an actress of note when in fact she has always been up there with the best of French actresses of her generation.

As a singing icon she has been frozen in time. Her fame for one song have clouded a proper critical appraisal of her singing talents. And I think here I have to be honest and say that her critics - from a purely singing technical point of view - might have a point her being over hyped. Not that Jane Birkin ever said she was a great singer as she described herself self-deprecatingly as singing through more keys than a locksmith.

As a singer, Birkin is of course is known for that song that cheekily and perhaps even enviously reinforces the tropes the non-French world have about the French and amour. In 1969, she and Gainsbourg released the duet "Je t'aime... moi non plus" ("I love you ... me neither"). Gainsbourg originally wrote the song for Brigitte Bardot. But Bardot famously declined to sing the track because she found it "too erotic" and she was married at the time.

Although Birkin started out in films, she preferred to focus more on singing than acting. This was primarily because of Serg Gainsbourg who saw Birkin as his muse and wrote songs for her. She released an album in 1975 entitled Lolita Go Home and in 1978 called Ex Fan des Sixties, with the help of Gainsbourg's songwriting. Her music was successful in France, but not in her home country of England. She has made more than a dozen albums, nearly all in French and perhaps one or two in her native English. 

One cannot escape the nagging feeling when I listen to some of her albums - really the later ones - that if she had attempted a career as an English recording artist, she would have stayed a minor singer. If fished out of her small pond and dropped into the music ocean, then Birkin would surely in the words of one music critic, “be engulfed by the plankton of mediocrity”.

And so the troubling truth that must be faced is that because she has been granted access to the ranks of the iconic, it is more because of our interest in the intriguing liaison she had with the maverick Gainsbourg more than anything else.

There is no doubt that her marshmallow accent, reedy voice and modern look made Jane Birkin a singing idol. She has a sense of discretion that is inversely proportional to her dazzling repertoire, which is studded with such astounding masterpieces as ‘Je t’aime… moi non plus’, ‘Swimming Pool’, ‘The Pirate’ and ‘Les dessous chics’. But her later recordings such as Le Symphonique, in which she is accompanied by a 90-piece orchestra - are mostly re-worked recordings of her songs with Gainsbourg who had died in 1991. Or take her 1996 album Arabesque which featured re-workings of Gainsbourg’s music, along with instrumentals backed by five Arabic musicians. Nearly all her later albums are quite mediocre.

This isn’t her fault so much as it is the musical artistry of Gainsbourg. He was the puppeteer behind the promulgation of this 'veule aesthetic', this aesthetic of weak plaintive croaking. But he was perhaps the first French singer who knew that manipulating the media would lead to manipulating record sales. Gainsbourg once had a job punching holes into métro tickets on Paris' underground before this ‘poinçonneur de lilas’ went on to almost single-handedly drag France's chanson tradition into the postmodern age. He sat in the opposite corner to the great chanson Musketeers: Leo Ferré, Georges Brassens and Jacques Brel. Gainsbourg is known in France for having cast himself in twin roles: Gainsbourg the musician and Gainsbarre the provocateur.

But there is also a definite divide in his musical production with a pre-1971 period that has a foot in chanson with driving melodies and Boris Vian narratives and the other foot in the fledgling pop tradition, and a post-1971 period that was driven more and more by dodgy electronic drumbeats, tiresome perpetual punning, and repetitive allusions to la femme enfant and Lolita-esque love (his last partner, Bambou, was 30 years his junior).

It remains difficult, therefore, to see how anyone with an ear for melody could think that much of Gainbourg's non-chanson output is melodiously pleasing. Much of his production seems so excruciatingly the work of an ageing pervert with personal hygiene issues.

My French friends, including one of my apartment neighbours in particular - of an older generation with whom I’ve grown close to - will put me through the wringer for saying anything bad about Gainsbourg and Birkin as singers. I just feel no one should be above a critical appraisal. Worse, it becomes very difficult to say anything critical for fear of being told that you just have not understood Gainsbourg's genius (surely Jarvis Cocker and Portishead can't be wrong!) But in reality there is very little to understand. He gave up trying to sing early on - the songs I really do like and find interesting - and quickly became the one-trick pony until his unfortunate death in May 1991 at 62 years old: a suggestive lyric about a questionable relationship here, a pun on every other word as an excuse for poetics there, slurred together with the voice of a sneering old man. The man stood out, broke away from troubadour-like folklore, but ultimately a tad mediocre.

The truth is Birkin without Gainsbourg was never much of a truly great singer. Combined with their public spats, Birkin reportedly grew tired of Gainsbourg's drinking and melancholy habits, so much so it became impossible to live with. They separated in 1980 despite never being married, despite reports of the contrary. Birkin later said that their friendship and his songwriting improved after they split. “You could talk back to him for once,” she said. “You were not just his creation any more.” As much as she was his muse, she was Pygmalion to his Prof. Henry Higgins. But the sad and prosaic truth is that without his unique style of songs to carry her limited singing range she was dreadfully exposed outside of Gainsbourg’s repertoire.

This was brought home to me when I listened to her cover version of Cohen’s iconic song, ‘Hallelujah’. Cohen's lyrics tell of David composing a song in praise of God, he describes the euphony that 'hallelujah' forms in his prayer, "the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift." Birkin on the other hand warbled her way through. As she said once of her singing, she went through more keys than a locksmith.

Does Jane Birkin fare better as a style icon? Yes, she does. Absolutely.

To understand the Birkin bag one has to understand how Jane Birkin a Parisienne fashion style icon without her necessarily wanting to be one.

The quintessential trope of Parisienne woman is a conflation we likely owe to the framing of the 1950s and ’60s mavens of French popular culture like Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneuve, and Brigitte Bardot as French icons, but who remain eminently tied to Parisian mythology - their reverence to a billion-dollar fashion archetype (thank you LVMH) is as reductive to the real women of Paris as it is to the women aspiring to be them. Of course this kind of Parisienne chic exists - a walk down the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8th arrondissement of Paris should satisfy the many star struck ‘American Emily’s’ coming to Paris (what a God awful Netflix drama it is). 

But like London or New York or even Rome and Milan, there is no such thing as one Parisian style. There’s a plurality of Parisian styles and personalities - that’s obvious from walking the different arrondissements of Paris.

Jane Birkin in her day brought her own style to fit her British personality that was a far cry from the elegantly and expensively dressed mavens. From her laissez-faire fringe, to her layered necklaces, vintage denim, peasant blouses and white t-shirts, she wowed Parisienne women.

Today if you ever wander around Paris looking at the younger girls - or look at French young girls sporting their Paris street chic style on instagram or other social media - they call it Paris street chic. It’s not fashion, it’s a street style.

It’s really bunch of every day clothing items and accessories stylishly thrown together. So it’s not surprising to learn that the original source of French street chic started with Jane Birkin. It was Birkin who ‘pioneered’ the kind of off-duty dressing you now see all over the streets of Paris. I say pioneered but the truth is she dressed for herself without even wanting or trying to become a French style icon.

Still as fashionistas will tell you, Birkin was always several decades ahead of the style curve (easy for them to say). It was stylish but above all it was timeless. It amuses me no end that when one sees doe eyed American girls who are so enamoured by French girl fashion but don’t realise they owe their thanks to an English girl.

I’m sure it amuses Birkin too because she always thought her Haute-hippie style and free spirit was her way to insulate her personal insecurities about how well dressed and stylish haute bourgeois Parisian women were in their Chanel and YSL clothing. Her style is her own, as she said to Vogue, “I buy things often, but I sleep in them for two weeks, and then they really look quite rough.”

If there is common ground between the elegantly dressed mavens of high end brand fashion houses and the ultra casual minimalist street wear it is around the very simple Parisian quality of simplicity. Simplicity - not necessarily in colour or print but in the total look. Simple but important enough for a younger generation of Parisienne women should be free to express themselves free  from the grips of a generations-old myth.

In a nutshell if Birkin’s style and influence endures it’s because her style is about simplicity.

Nevertheless her place as a style icon rests upon a simple straw basket (or wicker basket). However, in 1981 a chance encounter on a plane would result in the straw basket’s replacement by the world’s most desired leather bag - the Hermès Birkin bag.

In the 70s she was mainly known for her use of a straw/wicker basket which she used instead of a regular handbag. She was famous for her straw basket as she went everywhere with it, even dancing at the most exclusive of clubs or eating at the finest dining places. She carried all kinds of bits and bobs, including baby milk bottles, diapers, and baby change wear as well as collecting trinkets on her journeys around Paris. It was seen as a stylish English eccentricity by the Parisians.

There is famous story about Jane Birkin and her straw basket that has entered into legend. The straw basket bag’s anonymous shape and generous size lent it to concealment, so when, during a lavish Christmas evening spent at the famous Parisian Bistro Maxim’s with Gainsbourg, the young English actress slipped a few pieces of the institution’s fine monogrammed crockery into it, nobody batted an eyelid. It was only later, when the basket slipped from her wrist while signing an autograph and sent her stash of china flying across the floor, that she was found out. In a perfect act of Parisian discretion a kindly waiter collected it up for her and replaced it in the basket. “A gift from Maxim’s,” he is reported to have whispered to her. “If you require more, you only have to ask.”

In 1981, Birkin was on a short flight from Paris to London. Carrying her famous straw basket, she placed it in the overhead compartment of her seat. However, the lid of the basket opened, and the contents spilled all over the floor and on the seats around her. Sitting next to her and assisting her in retrieving the contents of her basket was the late executive of Hermès, Jean-Louis Dumas. Birkin complained to Dumas that she was unable to find a suitable leather weekend bag that she liked. According to folklore, the remainder of the flight consisted of the pair designing a bag together and sketching ideas on an air sickness bag.

Fast forward three years and a prototype handbag was developed and presented to Jane Birkin – the Hermès Birkin bag. The bag, crafted from supple leather and handmade in France by a single, highly trained artisan, and takes up to 24 hours to complete. Designed specifically to provide ample room for jet-setting women, the bag quickly became a fashion icon and status symbol for women worldwide. The Birkin bag comes in a range of sizes, leathers, exotic skins, and hardware, with new colours introduced each season and limited edition versions of the bag crafted occasionally.

Since the creation of the very first Birkin bag, Jane Birkin had always carried one. However, true to her unique style and fashion, she continually customised her bags with beads, trinkets, protest stickers, and other titbits to create a unique look. Birkin even defaced her namesake’s bag on Japanese TV in 2008. The fashion icon repeatedly stamped on a tan-coloured Birkin bag to make it look “unique.” 

Not surprisingly, the customisation of the Birkin bag caught on quickly and “defacing” Birkin bags is now a modern and trendy pastime practiced by D list celebrities including Kim Kardashian, Tamara Ecclestone, and many of today’s so-called fashion icons and social media style influencers.

Commendably Birkin auctions off her complimentary Birkin bags from Hermès for charitable causes. She often works with Amnesty International on humanitarian issues and donates her yearly royalties for the Birkin bag (approximately $50,000 per year) to a charity of her choice. Jane Birkin has said she now rarely uses the famous handbag that bears her name. In an interview with the BBC she told the BBC that if, like her, she used to fill the bag with "junk... and half the furniture from your house, it's a very, very heavy bag. Now I fill my pockets like a man, because then you don't actually have to carry anything."

In typical Jane Birkin style, she doesn't own one.

Jane Birkin will always be France’s favourite “petite Anglaise” as she was often known. And therein lies the clue why she remains beloved French icon despite her being English for two main reasons that come to mind.

Firstly, I suspect it’s because of her remarkable quality to be down to earth and cheerfully optimistic in public. Above all she displays a wonderful talent for mocking herself and not taking herself seriously. When for instance she was invited to take a role in a theatre production of a play by the 17th-century French writer Marivaux, she thought she was in a play by Marie Vau! The French have always been beguiled by her because of the stardust of the Sixties.

Despite Birkin being diagnosed with leukaemia in 2002, she said she conducted her life and love affairs with “an absolutely unfounded optimism”. That is not in doubt. With the recent publication of her diaries (Munkey Diaries 1957-1982 - a fantastic read) a more fuller picture has emerged that have further endeared her to the French.

Birkin was always riddled with insecurities, “I think I’m nothing, I’m persecuted by women who I love more than myself... Oh for the face of Nastassja Kinski, of Fanny Ardant, oh, the talent, the courage, the qualities. I have nothing interesting to say...” Above all she was convinced she was “suffering from mediocrity and no personality”, and wanted above all was to be loved. England never gave her that love, France did so happily. Even today France openly loves her.

Secondly, the French, especially the Parisians, love her because she embraces the French way of life with gusto and gaeity. Birkin speaks French fine but she stumbles in her heavily accented French. But she doesn’t mind and neither do the French. She was schooled in England into a culture where it’s okay to stumble, to try and fail, to be less than perfect. However, the old, rote, didactic, shame-based French schooling system dies hard. French people are often afraid to speak English unless they can feel assured it is impeccable at the same time - alomost in contradiction - they feel put out by foreigners who simply speak English to them without even having the courtesy to speak a little French, they think it rude and respond accordingly. But Birkin is so transparent and open to falling flat on her face that I think the Parisians find it strangely endearing.

Birkin is that living truism that you don’t have to be French to be a Parisian icon of style and especially when beauty pertains to age.

Outside of native born French women, Brigitte Bardot, Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneueve, Jeanne Moreau, Fanny Ardant, Juliette Binoche, Inés de la Fressange and one or two others (Isabelle Huppert is an outlier of arthouse chic style), there have been other non-French women besides Jane Birkin who have personified Parisian chic and style: Sylvia Vartan, Charlotte Rampling, Nastassja Kinski, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Carla Bruni, to name but a few. Each has come to embody ‘Parisian style’ without ever being raised here but now very much live and breathe the Parisienne spirit.

Just as importantly Paris, like French culture as a whole, values beauty especially as it ages. There are many seasons to women as there are to make fine wine. This is one reason why Jane Birkin endures even at the age of 73 years old. Style icons like Jane Birkin and others like Inés de la Fressange (who was the face of Chanel for so long and is now going strong at 63 years old) have given a well deserved middle finger to the notion that there is a codified set of rules for fashion and beauty for women over 50 years old.

Indeed this is one of the secrets of living in Paris, it knows how to renew and refresh itself without losing its unique identity e.g. the model and actress Jeanne Damas, is arguably this current generation’s Jane Birkin and all power to her.

The stylish contributions of all these iconic women, and especially Jane Birkin, is a testament of why the allure of Paris as a cultural centre will continue to endure seamlessly because it values the aesthetic truth that true style is beauty that timelessly matures.  

Birkin said once she was in no doubt she would always be best known for her erotic record Je t'aime, moi non plus. Of course she under sells herself as she has always done because she is so much more.

Compare her to modern style icons. Kim Kardashian would be the nearest but her fame as a style icon rests on one cynically contrived (and boring) sex tape, a narcissistic family TV reality show, and being married to a grossly deluded rap singer. I don’t think the modern day airheads are true style icons but fashion victims because as Yves Saint Laurent once memorably put it, “Fashions fade, style endures”.

Jane Birkin will endure. Her contribution to French cultural life has been immense. The gap-tooth smile that looks irrepressibly cool, the messy fringe, the long string bean legs, the ability to elegantly wear denim for any and every situation, the reason she made a lowly wicker basket her bag of choice all year long. We may never know why, but honestly it’s not worth questioning at this point because it was so seriously chic - is one even allowed to say the word chic again? When it comes to Birkin, it’s a word that bears repeating.

Birkin might cheerfully be accepting of the fact that for an older generation much of her fame still rests on one scandalous song but for the contemporary generation it will be the Hermès Birkin bag.

"It's a rather extraordinary record," Birkin said once. "Perhaps more interesting than the bag." I daresay Serg Gainsbourg would agree about the song and the bag.

Ah yes that bag. The Birkin bag. To me it’s not a fashion item but a life saver.

From mothers juggling diapers and milk bottles whilst chasing after their toddlers in stores to busy career women hurriedly scooping up and stuffing in reams of files, phone and lap top while rushing off their feet to their next meeting all can thank ‘la petite Anglaise’ for her Birkin bag.

I know I do. I use mine for a work lap top, mobile phone, work files and folders, pens, chewing gum, girls stuff (make up kit and tampons), a spare pair of knickers, sun glasses, gloves, an apple, a bottle of water, playing cards, a cigar case (and cutter and lighter), and a few books to read when I fly on a business trip.

Thanks for your question.

[officialwittek]

pt. 1

*gif is not mine*  

word  count: 2,097 

please forgive me if this is rough. i been outta the writing game for a minute. enjoy! 

7:30 am.

The obnoxious ring of my alarm disturbs my peaceful sleep. I groan and move the blankets off my legs, stretching my arms to the ceiling. After my morning stretch I walk to my bathroom and turn the water to the hottest it can go before stripping my pajamas off. I quickly step in the shower, welcoming the warmth on my skin. I let out a sigh as I felt all the tension from my restless night glide down the drain. After a good 15 minutes I finally muster the strength to step out and wrap my towel around myself. I finally dry off and go to my closet to pick out an outfit for the day.

My eyes scan the closet before finally landing on a black pinstripe blazer dress with a zipper slit on the thigh, a thick belt around my waist with a chain in the front, and some knee high boots with black beret. After getting dressed I started on my hair and makeup. I went for a natural but full beat with my favorite pair of falsies and put my hair in a simple French braid down my back. I walked out to meet my roommate Carly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” I says, she acknowledges me with the wave of her hand and walks back to her room as I smile and start making my matcha latte

I boil some water and grab the oat milk from the fridge. After making my latte I settle on some Oreo cereal for breakfast. I glance up and see my roommate exiting her room, looking ready for the day.

“Whatcha got planned for the day?” Carly asks, I shrug and look at her casually

“I might have a meeting to discuss signing with Arista, and making my own album” I comment casually, watching her eyes widen with excitement

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Is David hiding somewhere with his camera?” Carly replies, I shake my head and watch her eyes fill with excited tears

“Baby!!! We have to tell everyone” she exclaims, I shake my head and cross my arms in an X shape

“We will tell them when I finish the meeting, I don’t wanna jinx myself” I whine, she nods understandingly

“Alright I should get going, let me know where you guys are so we can meet up after. You can ONLY tell Erin. I’ll see you later” I say, grabbing my work bag and keys from the counter

After a nerve wracking drive to the office I finally arrived. I take a deep breath and walk into the building where an assistant meets me. We take the elevator to a conference room.

We finally finished the hour long meeting. I brought a friend, who happened to be a lawyer to look over my contract before signing it. I shook their hands and said we would let them know in a few hours. After our meeting my friend and I headed out to get some boba and take a look at the contract. I quietly drank my black milk tea and sent a few texts to my friends.

“Looks pretty good, initial here and here... ok and just put your signature here” She said, I nodded signing and initialing away

They called the label and let them know we had signed the contract. My friend went and dropped off the contract while I headed to David’s. When I opened the door I noticed almost everyone was here, except for Jeff and Scott. I took my shoes off and quietly headed into the house.

“Soo.. what’s the verdict?” Carly asked, everyone looked to me in confusion

“Signed, and I’ll be starting my music journey with Arista today” I yell, my friends jump up in celebration and crowd around me

“We celebrating tonight bitches” Zane exclaims, and at this point who cares that it’s a Monday morning and they’ll most likely forget tonight

“Make sure you guys invite Jeff, and we’ll get Sage so drunk she can tell HIM how horny he makes her” Carly says, prompting David to take out his camera again and makes Carly repeat it

“God I tell Carly ONE time that I would get Jeff crush my head between his biceps and suddenly I’m being crucified for being horny” I retort, earning loud laughs from everyone else

“Tell David what you told me last night, after seeing Jeff’s insta post” Carly commands with a wide smile, I sigh and look right at David so I’m not looking straight into the camera lens

“Allegedly when I was a little litty last night, I was stalking his instagram and I saw the picture of him spraying water on himself in your merch… and allegedly I said that I would let him knock my cervix into my lungs and I would apologize for simply being too weak to handle it” I whispered, but everyone heard me anyways and as if on cue the devil himself walked in through the front door

“Jeff come listen to this” Jason says, showing the footage he recorded of me saying what I just said, I stood there in shock, Jeff quickly turned to me and smirked

“Come here baby” Jeff says, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me to a bedroom while our friends laughed

“Finally, I’m getting the dick I deserve” I yell, Jeff puts me down gently after we round the corner

“Also Todd told me we’re celebrating for you, what happened?” He asks, I tell him the news and he lifts me up again

Jeff and I had been close from the minute we met, it really felt like I met my platonic soulmate to be completely honest. We’re always jokingly flirting with each other for the vlogs and if I’m not with the girls I’m usually with Jeff. Although, lately he’s been too busy to hang out or workout together, on the contrary he’s always free for David and the rest of our friends but when I want to hang out one on one there’s always something. It felt nice, just being the two of us. But alas, as soon as he finished the hug he waltzed right back to our other friends.

“Yea I’ve been doing good, how about you?” I mumble to myself, walking back to our friends as we talk about what to do until the rest of our friends are free to go out for the night

Natalie, Zane, David, and I decided to go somewhere and film some stuff and have a little photoshoot while we were at it. We took some videos of us fucking around in the parking lot of some mall. Zane decided to provide some commentary for the vlog as Nat and I took pictures.

“Look at these whores, won’t take no fucking pictures with me. I’m SAgE anD i’M a FaMoUS MuSICiAn, FuCK YALl” Zane yells, I hand my phone to Nat and walk over to David’s Tesla, grabbing the small paintball gun in the trunk

“Fuck with me again little bitch” I said, walking up to him and shooting him two times in the leg with the paintball gun, he cussed me out on the floor while the three of us laughed our asses off

“Alright let’s get going so we can collect everyone before we go out... or we could have it at  David’s house so I don’t have to worry about flashing my ass to random people?” I ask, making puppy eyes at  David as he reluctantly give in

“Fine, but you’re helping clean up after” He says, I nod eagerly as the four of us pile into the Tesla

“I’ll let Suzy and Jonah know, everyone else will probably be at the house anyways” Natalie says, quickly typing on her phone  

We arrive at David’s house as the sun is setting and we start getting ready for everything. Toddy and Jeff go on an alcohol run, while the rest of us started setting everything up. Natalie and Zane go to get more solo cups and some extra things. I’m helping David put away some valuable things while everyone makes the house presentable and work on making it Zane and Heath proof, which could be impossible.

“Can I be in control of the music king?” I ask, David rolls his eyes at the horrible nickname and nods I connect to the speaker while pouring shots for everyone with the alcohol we have at the house

After I was done pouring the shots the ones who went to run errands came back and we all huddled in the kitchen. I put the down the bottle and we all hold our glasses up.

“May we all get absolutely plastered, and some of incredibly high. Maybe both? And may Zane stay away from the hospital for one fucking night, amen” I yell, we all cheers and take shots

After smoking with some of our friends I go back in the house and find it absolutely packed with people. David is multitasking with taking disposables and filming an incredibly drunk Zane and Ilya. And above all the talking and yelling I hear the familiar beat.

‘Do it, baby. Stick it, baby. Move it, baby. Lick it, baby...’

I scream and run to the make shift dance floor, my girls behind me as I start grinding on Corinna as she smacks my ass. I’m screaming the words, someone hands me a drink and I slowly start to feel myself get loose. Everyone making a circle around Corinna, and myself. We switch and I fall on the couch while Corinna gives me a lap dance.

“PUSSY SO GOOD HE GOT MY NAME ON IT” We scream, grabbing each other as  Zane somehow finds himself on my lap too

After the song I make my way to the bar with Zane and Heath, my favorite drinking buddies. After getting a lot more alcohol in me than my entire being can tolerate we go back and start dancing. I was swaying to the music, occasionally dancing with our friends when I feel someone grab me.

“What do you think you’re doing? Shaking your ass for everyone to see” the faint linger of that Staten Island accent makes me smile, but it quickly changes to a frown when my brain registers the words he said

“What do you think Jeffreyyy? I’m-” “Zane what the fuck” I turn and see our friends huddled around the bathroom

“Watch out everyone” Natalie says, backing up and taking a running start towards the door and successfully kicks it down

“Zane why didn’t you say anything? We thought you were dead man” Jeff laughs, I walk into the bathroom and laugh at the sight

After a few more hours the strangers have left the house and our friend group is still going strong. I quietly nurse my water that Jeff forced me to have. David taking some disposables of the rare quiet moment.

“Zane.. I bet you won’t try and fight Jeff right now” I slur, my world still spinning from the poison in my body  

“For what?” Zane replies, I smirk and look at Jeff

“Dude I’ll straight up kiss whoever wins” I say, David immediately bringing his vlog camera out and quickly explaining the situation

“Wait I wanna fucking get in on this” Ilya says, the three of them getting up... well Zane and Ilya could barely stand let alone fight Jeff, the most sober one here

The three of them start pushing each other, I’m a little too drunk to really understand what was going on. Before I know it Jeff had them both on the ground and was declared the winner

“Sageee... you gotta kiss Jeff” David teases, shoving the camera in my face as I chuckle

“Oh y’all know I wanna do more than kiss. Come here dumb bitch” I say, turning around on the couch as Jeff stabilizes me and plants a kiss right on my lips as our friends scream and jump around. I pull away and David turns his camera off for the moment.

“Can I pleasee have more shots.. Zane, Ilya get your dumbasses up we’re getting more drunk so David has content” I yell, the two of them immediately getting off the floor and walking with me to the kitchen

“David, come here I have a secret to tell you” I yell, stumbling over to meet him halfway

“Closer, closer..... I’m so fucked up”

[hookedonapirate]

Miss Fix-It

Summary: Miracle worker. Relationship Guru. Savior.

These are just a few of her monikers, but most people have taken to call her Miss Fix-It. Helping broken-hearted women get back together with their former boyfriends is her specialty. How does she do it, you ask? Simple—she becomes his date from hell so he’ll realize what a catch he had before he let her go.

Emma Swan is an expert at fixing relationships, it’s just too bad she’ll never have one of her own.

Her particular set of talents is tested, however, when a cheating ex-girlfriend requests her services. Emma’s reluctant at first. It’s not an easy task to make someone seem like a catch when they’ve cheated, but the potential client is an emotional wreck desperate to get her former boyfriend back before he heads back to England. Besides, Emma Swan never backs down from a challenge. They don’t call her Miss Fix-It for nothing. She’ll find a way to make him wish he was back in his ex-girlfriend’s arms, no matter what it takes. If only she can squash the feelings she develops for him and stop breaking her rules.

My Best Friend’s Girl meets How to Lose a Guy in 10 days.

A/N: A big shout out to @ultraluckycatnd for beta reading and to @onceuponaprincessworld for letting me share my ideas with her! 

Wow, I hadn't realized how long it's been since I updated this story until I saw the date I last posted, which was May 2020!!! I'm so sorry it's been so long. A lot has happened since then and I know I've probably lost some readers, but for those of you who have stuck around, thank you so much for your patience. I hope you enjoy the chapter ♥️

This is now part of the Captain Swan Movie Marathon collection, as it is primarily based on the movie Mr. Fix-It. Thanks @csmm for putting this together!

Also available on: AO3 l FF.N

Catch up: Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Chapter 5

“Hold on, love.” Killian steps back as he eyes Granny’s diner like he’s staring his worst nightmare in the face. He glances at Emma as confusion furrows her brows. “This is where you’re taking me?”

She nods. “Yeah. They have the best strawberry cheesecake pancakes. Trust me—a sugar coma is way better than an alcohol coma.”

His expression clouds with hesitation as he shakes his head. “I can’t go in. Ruby works here.”

“Not tonight.”

Killian lifts a brow. “How do you know?”

Damn. 

Emma curses herself as she keeps a straight face. Killian’s not the one who told her he went to her apartment to drop off her things; David did. “Because in the several texts Mary Margaret sent me, she mentioned Ruby was helping her with the invitations. Ruby needed a distraction.”

“Oh.” The creases in his forehead deepen. “Then why does Mary Margaret need David’s help, too?”

“I don’t know,” Emma snaps, louder than intended. Good God, this guy asks a lot of questions. “Probably because when Mary Margaret freaks out,” her eyes widen and she makes hand gestures for emphasis, “she freaks out.”

Killian scratches his ear as he looks inside the diner. “Still, I’m sure everyone who works here has heard the news and I’m not sure I want to—”

Emma grabs his hand and pulls him inside, not willing to argue about it, mostly because she doesn’t have a back-up plan. She didn’t want to make it seem like she pre-orchestrated this whole thing. He relents reluctantly and lets her lead him to a booth. “I’m not taking no for an answer. If you’ve ever had their strawberry cheesecake pancakes, you would understand.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat. It’s good comfort food.”

They sit across from each other, and when Ashley tries to give them menus, Emma holds up her hand to reject them. “We already know what we want. I’ll have my usual hot cocoa and he’ll have an order of strawberry cheesecake pancakes with extra everything and chocolate milk.”

Killian doesn’t argue with her about it.

“Okay.” Ashley puts on a smile which fades when she looks at Killian, her eyes clouding with sympathy. “I heard what happened between you and Ruby. I’m so sorry.”

Killian pins Emma with an “I told you so” glare. She offers an apologetic smile in return. “Thanks, Ashley, but I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you don’t look—”

“It’s okay, Ash,” Emma interjects, waving off Ashley’s words with her hand. “He just needs to shove down his emotions with a heaping plate of sugar and shame, wash it down with chocolate milk, and then he’ll be perfect.”

Ashley glances between them suspiciously. “Wait, is this your way of getting back at Ruby?” she asks Killian as she points at Emma with the menus in her hand.

“No, I’m not getting back at Ruby,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. He looks at Emma. “She’s a friend.”

She’s not sure why, but her heart warms at the sentiment.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Emma asks defensively. “It is a small town, and well, we both know Ruby.”

“True, I’ve just never seen you together.”

Emma refrains from sighing in exasperation. Why is everyone a fucking detective all of a sudden?

Maybe Killian was right—they should’ve gone somewhere else.

“We just met tonight,” Killian says. “She works at the Rabbit Hole, now.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Ashley says in surprise.

“Can we get that hot cocoa and those pancakes now?” Emma asks impatiently, growing frustrated and a little panicked. This is exactly why she always meets her targets outside of town where people don't know her and won't ask a bunch of prying questions.

“Of course. Coming right up,” she assures before walking away.

Ashley returns a moment later with their beverages. Killian just stares blankly at his chocolate milk as Emma dips her finger in the whipped cream from her hot cocoa and brings it to her mouth, sucking off the sugary substance. Expecting Killian to watch her, she’s kind of disappointed when he doesn’t. Licking the whipped cream off her finger is a foolproof tactic that always garner’s the guy’s attention no matter what. But apparently not with Killian. Instead, he leans his elbows on the table and looks around like he’s afraid Ruby will suddenly pop into the diner at any moment.

This is going to be harder than she originally speculated.

“Look, if it really bothers you to be here, we can go somewhere else,” she sighs in retreat.

“No, it’s fine,” he says gloomily. “It’s just…” His words trail off and the earlier despair she’d witnessed on his face reappears. “This is where Ruby and I met,” he explains with a sad smile. “I came here after moving into my new apartment all day and she was my waitress.” His eyes shine with unshed tears as he recalls the night he met her like it were yesterday. “I’d had the worst day; nothing went as it was supposed to. But when I sat down at this exact booth, Ruby came over to me with the brightest smile on her face and she instantly cheered me up.” A tear slips from Killian’s eyes—a tear she could tell he was trying to fight back. “And um, we just hit it off. Her shift was ending soon, so after she clocked out, she sat across from me and we talked for hours.”

More tears slide down his cheeks. “I’ll never forget that night, no matter how much I want to forget it. No matter how much the image of seeing her with…” He pauses, his hands fisting on the table, his teeth gritting, “with my best friend.” An unexpected sob escapes him as he drops his face in his hands, and Emma scans the diner, wondering if anyone heard, but only a few customers glance over and then return their attention to either their food or the person sitting in front of them. 

When Killian cries into his palms, Emma’s heart breaks for him. He really liked Ruby—or loved; she doesn’t really know—but she could sense how torn up he was over being cheated on by her. His cries become louder and his body jerks and trembles as inhuman sounds wretch from his throat. Emma’s heart is gripped with emotion; she can feel the sadness he’s expressing from across the table. She hates seeing him like this, and it has nothing to do with the show he’s displaying for the diner patrons. 

Responding on instinct, she jumps from her seat, hurries to his side of the booth, and sits next to him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. She looks around, giving the customers who are staring a slight, apologetic smile. Normally she would never dream of sitting on the same side of the table with someone while the seat across from them is empty, but this is one of those rare exceptions.

Killian takes her off guard when he thrusts his head against her chest and winds his arms around her, sobbing into her shirt. Emma’s eyes widen in shock as she brings both hands to his back, one giving him a gentle pat. Other than that, she has no idea what to do. What do you tell someone you just met that will make them feel better when they’re sobbing uncontrollably? She can’t tell him everything will be okay, can she? 

She peers down at him, wondering how things escalated so quickly. She’d brought him to this diner specifically so the memories of Ruby would unleash the emotions he hasn’t yet expressed, hoping he would open up to her. She expected a current and maybe a little mist, but she didn’t expect the fucking dams to break. 

Emma’s blouse and chest become damp from his tears as she cards a hand through his hair, feeling him tremble in her arms. She had unfastened the first few buttons a while ago, so her chest is soaked too, and his head is cradled just above her breasts.

Not that she’s complaining.

Emma gently turns her head to look for Ashley, not wanting her to freak out over seeing him break down like he is, and when she sees their server approaching, she whispers to Killian, “Ashley’s coming over here.”

He sniffles and lifts his head, wiping the tears from his face and whispering a thanks.

Emma picks up a wrapped silverware set and removes the napkin, offering it to Killian.

“Bloody hell, love. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles in apology as he wipes his tears with the napkin.

Ashley arrives at their table, dropping off the plate of pancakes. “Strawberry cheesecake pancakes with extra everything. Anything else I can get—” She pauses when she catches Killian’s face. “Are you okay?”

He nods and wipes under his eyes with the napkin. “Aye. I’m fine. Just got something in my eye is all.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, obviously not believing him. And judging by the stink-eye Ashley’s giving her, Emma can tell she doesn’t believe she and Killian are only friends.

“He’ll be fine once he eats his pancakes,” Emma assures her.

“All right, well, let me know if there’s anything else you need,” she says directly to Killian.

“Thanks, lass,” he murmurs, staring blankly at his plate. After Ashley leaves, Emma grabs a fork, scoops up a bit of pancake and brings it to his lips. “Here, try a bite.” She thinks he might refuse it, but instead, he reluctantly opens his mouth, allowing her to feed him.

Wow, this is the weirdest date she’s ever been on.

If you can even call it a date.

Surprisingly, he chews the food in his mouth and licks his lips.

Oh my.

Emma has to look away and clench her thighs, trying to rid the thoughts of other things he could be doing with that tongue. Specifically, things he could be doing to her.

“You were right, love. These pancakes are actually making me feel better.”

His statement throws her for a loop, and she whips her head toward him, lifting a brow. “Really?”

He offers a small smile. “A little.” He takes the fork from her and stabs at another piece. “But I’ll probably stop feeling better once it’s gone, so maybe you could ask Ashley to keep the pancakes coming?”

Emma manages a small laugh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ll end up feeling worse than you already do.”

He frowns. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Emma sighs into her hot cocoa and takes a sip.

Yep, she certainly has her work cut out for her.

Emma tries to change the subject by asking what his favorite bands are, but then he veers right back into the subject of Ruby when he recalls how he went to her place to return her things, which included her CDs. He mentions it because he also had his CDs at her place, but she refused to hand them over until he was willing to let her talk. But he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to get his things and leave, but instead, he stayed and argued with her until they were both blue in the face.

Nevertheless, Emma gives him her undivided attention as he rambles on, so he feels comfortable enough to open up to her.

When he finishes the pancakes, he was right about feeling miserable again and tries to order more. Emma pays the bill before he can, and has to drag him out of the diner.

“Are you okay with driving home?” she asks when they return to the bar.

“Aye. Another benefit of having pancakes instead of rum is I can’t get drunk from pancakes.”

“Well, unless they were rum pancakes,” she points out.

His eyes light up with curiosity, and Emma gets the feeling she's created a monster. “Rum pancakes? Do they make those?”

She laughs. “Not sure, but I think the best thing to do now is sleep.”

He frowns. “I don’t know if I can. Every time I close my eyes, I picture her with him, and I can’t…” His voice cracks, and his eyes well with tears again.

Emma’s heart breaks. She knew he was torn up, but she really had no idea just how torn up he was. The old pancake trick didn’t work, all it did was make him want more pancakes, so she knows she’ll have to resort to drastic measures. Emma grabs his hand and hauls him down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going, love?” 

“You obviously need to release some major stress, and I know the perfect place where you can do that.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue—she doesn’t think he has enough energy to argue with her if he wanted to—and soon they’re standing in front of a building with a big sign above the door that reads, “Break Room Therapy” in bold blue letters and features an illustration of a pair of crossed sledgehammers.

Killian furrows his brows. “What is this place?”

Emma’s mouth falls open in shock. “I thought you lived in Storybrooke, and yet you’ve never been here?”

He shakes his head. “I see this place all the time but never knew what it really was. I always see women going in here, so I didn’t think it was a place for a lad like myself.”

Emma shakes her head. “This is a place we can go where no one will think we’re crazy if we break some shit, but it’s not just for women. We’re not the only ones who need to let off some steam sometimes.”

He cocks a brow. “Break some shit? What kind of shit?”

Emma smirks and opens the door for him, gesturing inside. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

He’s hesitant, but steps inside and she follows behind him. They approach the desk where her friend, Archie, is sitting, his face buried in a book. His office has the appearance of a typical break room, a collection of Star Wars Funko Pops on his desk, a water cooler and a life-sized statue of baby Yoda standing on a mini-fridge and holding a sign that reads, “Welcome to Break Room Therapy.”

“Appointments only,” Archie says as he lifts his eyes from his book to greet the incoming customers. His lips form a big smile when he sees Emma. “Oh, hi Emma. My apologies, I didn’t realize it was you,” he says, setting the book down and rising from his seat.

“Hey, Archie,” she greets with a smile.

“Back again so soon, I see?”

Emma nods. “Uh, yeah, but not for me. She grabs Killian’s arm who has his hands shoved in his pockets, still standing by the door with an awkward look on his face. “This is my friend, Killian. He needs to use one of your rooms.”

“Oh, right, of course.” He gestures toward the chairs in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”

Killian still looks unsure, but complies anyway, slumping into a chair next to Emma as Archie reclaims his seat across from them.

“So what brings you in tonight?” he asks Killian.

“He got cheated on by his girlfriend,” Emma answers when she suspects Killian doesn’t want to.

His face clouds with sorrow as Archie’s saddens. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Well, this is the right place for you, then.”

Killian furrows his brows and looks around. “What exactly is this place?”

Archie exchanges a look with Emma before returning his attention to Killian. “This is a place where you can release some of that pent up anger you’re feeling right now.” Archie looks at Emma. “Will you be joining him?”

She nods. “Yes, please.”

He prints some papers and gives Killian and Emma both a copy, pointing out for Killian with a pen where to sign and date.

Killian scans over the forms, his forehead wrinkled in confusion as he reads a line out loud. “I hereby consent to medical treatment, which may be advisable in the event of an injury?” He looks up from the document, his face awash with confusion. “Why would I need medical treatment?”

Archie casually waves a hand. “Oh, don’t worry…as long as you follow the rules and wear the protective gear properly, you should be completely fine.”

The furrow in Killian’s brows deepens. “Why would I need protective gear?”

“To protect yourself so you don’t get broken shards in your eyes or skin, of course.”

Killian’s eyes flicker with panic. “Why would I have to worry about that?”

“Just sign it, Killian,” Emma huffs in irritation as she hands Archie her signed papers.

He puts up a hand of dismissal. “Now, now, Emma. Killian must consent to the terms voluntarily.”

“This is supposed to help me feel better?” Killian asks, still uncertain about this entire thing.

“Yes, just trust me. I come here all the time to release stress. It works like a charm. And it’s a lot of fun.”

Killian considers her words and scans over the documents once more before scribbling his signature. “Fine. I can’t possibly feel worse than I do already.” He hands Archie the signed papers.

“That’s the spirit,” Emma chants, clapping her hands.

“Excellent,” Archie says with a grin. “Let’s get you suited up.”

They rise, and Archie leads them to the equipment and protective gear. After some quick instructions, he asks them which weapons they prefer.

With each of them wearing a face shield, Killian holding a sledgehammer and Emma carrying a baseball bat, they head to one of the rooms.

“Have a smashing good time,” Archie quips and closes the door, standing outside the caged window to monitor and take pictures. The walls are made of OSB and the floor is marked up with black duct tape. There’s a round table in the center of the room with a flatscreen computer monitor situated upright.

“After you,” Emma says, gesturing toward the monitor.

Killian looks at her, still unsure. “I just smash it?”

She gives a nod. “You just smash it.”

Killian raises the hammer into the air with both hands, and with a shaky breath, he strikes the monitor with hesitant force, barely making a dent.

“Come on, Killian, you can do better than that. Just think about how angry Ruby made you when you saw her fucking your best friend. Just let yourself feel that rage and release it.” Before Emma’s done speaking, he smashes the computer again with a more powerful force than before.

“That’s it. Just let it out!” she encourages.

So he does. He turns the monitor over, so the screen is facing the ceiling, and strikes it with the sledgehammer, smashing the screen with a groan. He shatters the rest of the glass into a million pieces, much like Ruby did to his heart. But he doesn’t stop there; he strikes the computer over and over and over again until it’s nothing but a mangled and mutilated piece of scrap.

He has to pause to steady his breathing.

“Feel better?” she asks with a laugh.

“Actually, yes, that does feel quite good. What’s next?”

“Easy, tiger. It’s my turn.” Emma sets down the bat, grabs a plate from the crate of breakable items and tosses it across the room, the dish shattering into the wall with a satisfying smash. Killian follows suit and sets down the hammer to pick up a glass bottle, tossing it at the wall, watching as it disintegrates into a thousand tiny pieces.

A hint of a smile appears on his lips. “This is fun, love.”

“I told you.” She tosses another plate against the wall like a frisbee.

They each take turns, smashing items with a sledgehammer or bat, or throwing them against the wall, the room filled with sounds of heavy panting, grunts and glass breaking or plastic being obliterated. While Killian releases the whirlwind of emotions resulting from his breakup and takes out his rage for Ruby and Victor on electronic equipment, Emma takes hers out on multiple dishes for having to lie to Killian, and for feeling pressured by her best friend and Ruby to do this job in the first place. She’s spent a lot of time in this same room, but most of the time she acts out the rage she will always feel for the bastard she married and trusted before he broke her heart into a million pieces.

When they’ve gone through all the items in the crate, they both have to catch their breaths, adrenaline pumping through them, Emma’s heart pounding mercilessly in her chest. For acts that may seem so violent, smashing items with someone else feels very intimate and exhilarating for reasons she can’t really explain. They both expressed a side of each other they don’t normally show.

“Wow, that was…” he breathes, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“A good way to work off those pancakes while releasing some steam at the same time, huh?”

“Aye, it really was,” he chuckles.

They leave the room and remove their protective gear. 

“Thanks, Archie, that was a blast...or should I say, smash!” Emma quips.

“Aye, thank you,” Killian says to him appreciatively. “That actually helped a lot.”

Archie grins. “Good, I’m glad. Come back anytime.” He waves at them as they head out the door.

“Wow, that really was therapeutic,” Killian says as they reach her car, both of them facing each other. “Thank you for bringing me there. And for the pancakes.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” she adds with a wink.

“No, really, I mean it,” he says sincerely. “I felt like complete shit tonight and you managed to make me smile and laugh and feel like myself again.”

She waves off his words. “It was nothing. I’m just glad you feel better than you did.”

“I do, thanks to you.”

“Killian—” she attempts in a tone that is meant to tell him he really doesn’t have to thank her.

“Seriously, Emma, I could kiss you right now,” he chuckles. “I mean, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

Emma gulps as she stares at his lips, wondering what they would feel like if he did kiss her. She immediately squashes the thought and lifts her eyes to gaze into those crystal blue orbs instead. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

Killian steps into her space and raises a hand to her face. Her breath catches when his thumb caresses her cheek. She thinks he might actually kiss her. “Do you believe in fate?”

His question throws her for a loop and she opens her mouth, uttering a nonsensical sound as she tries to figure out how to respond to that. “Um, no, not really.”

“Well, I do. I believe we were destined to meet.”

Guilt flares inside Emma, her throat closing up. If only he knew this wasn’t destiny or fate or a fortunate stroke of serendipity. Well, meeting him at the elevator a couple of months ago was a sheer coincidence, but tonight was pre-orchestrated, and not by the universe; it was planned by her, and if he found out, she doubts he would want anything to do with her. It pains her to know he’ll hate her guts after this is all over. But she won’t blame him one bit. 

Before she gets the chance to respond, he leans in and kisses her cheek.

All the air leaves her lungs when his lips touch her skin, her brain becomes mush and she closes her eyes, trying not to dissolve into a puddle.

“Can I see you again?” he asks, his voice cracking, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“But if us meeting each other was actually part of some predetermined plan, then wouldn't we run into each other again without having to make plans?”

He chuckles. “Perhaps.” He becomes quiet as his eyes grow serious. “But maybe I'm not willing to take that chance.”

Her throat becomes dry as sandpaper. She was not expecting an answer like that. He's the one who brought up the possibility of fate being on their side, yet he's not willing to take the chance he's wrong. Even though he knows where she works and where her friends live. 

Now she knows why Ruby fell for him. Well, she kind of already figured it out, but now she knows it was more than just his charming good looks, his boyish grin or his penis size.

“Um, yeah. Okay,” she answers against her better judgment. This is all going faster than she’d expected. She meant to part ways without making plans, and instead run into him “accidentally” again, but now she’s finding it impossible to deny his request. Besides, if they did run into each other “accidentally” then, for him, it would only solidify his belief that fate brought them together, and she'd feel horrible about that. Even more horrible than she already feels. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

He offers a sly grin, his tongue flirting with his lips. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She shakes her head and smiles. “Well played.” She reaches out her hand. “Let me see your phone.”

He takes it out and unlocks it before handing the device to her without hesitation.

She plugs in her phone number and sends herself a text so she’ll recognize the number when he calls. She hands it back to him. “There, now you have my phone number, and I have yours.”

“Thanks, love.” He tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

“Are you good to drive?”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? Smashing that computer sobered me up real quick. But I didn’t have a lot to drink to begin with, thanks to you,” he adds with a smirk.

She nods and feels her cheeks warm at the way he looks at her. “That’s true.”

He goes around her to open the driver’s door. God, this guy really knows how to make a woman feel special, even one he's not dating.

“This isn’t even a date and you’re still a gentleman,” she teases with a playful smirk.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he says with a cheeky grin. A grin so cheeky, her heart staggers. “Goodnight, Emma. Thanks again for tonight.”

“Night,” she murmurs, her heart clenching at the thought of leaving him. When he shuts the door, their eyes are still locked through the window, and the door that separates them doesn’t seem to help her at all, because her heart is pounding, and her breaths are shallow as his eyes pierce right through her.

He waves, and she waves back at him before starting her car. He finally turns and walks to his truck, his hands in his pockets as she watches him. Her heart squeezes in her chest when he increases the distance between them. She has to leave so he doesn’t think she’s just sitting there staring at him, which she definitely is.

She pulls away from the curb and drives away, hating herself for leaving him. But she has no idea why it hurts so much. She just met him a few hours ago. Well technically she met him a couple of months ago, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, this guy is already clawing his way inside her heart, trying to make a home there and making her second guess her decision to help Ruby out. Why is it the one time she finds a guy she actually likes, he has to be one of the guys she’s trying to get back together with his girlfriend?

If destiny actually does exist, then it must be mocking her. 

Or perhaps this job is destiny’s way of helping her protect her own heart. Because if she can’t have anything real with him, then she can’t actually get hurt.

Right?

@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer @ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @chamomileandmint @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @snowbellewells @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @ejunkiet @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @ivalane @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @arshini01 @companion-mala @carpedzem @youareafeverdream @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree

[plus-size-reader]

Robbing the Cradle

Dean Winchester x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1932 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Dean falls in love with a younger reader, and really struggles with it.

——————————————————————————————————

Dean had put up a huge fight when it came to you, at least at first. 

He didn’t want to be in love with you, and he didn’t want to admit how happy you made him. He didn’t want to but clearly that didn’t change the fact that he had fallen so deeply in love with you that he couldn’t dig himself out.

You were nothing more than a child, at least as far as he was concerned. You were only twenty-two years old, practically still in pampers and he felt weird about it.

After all, why didn’t you want to be with a man your own age? Didn’t you want to have a normal relationship? Why would you want to be with someone like him when someone better was right around the corner. 

Dean wasn’t the most thoughtful, or well adjusted man in the world, and that wasn’t a secret. 

He knew that there was someone who could be better for you.

Still, you showed no interest in anyone other than him. It shocked the man to his core, that you never once talked about what you were missing out on, or wanting to do anything other than what you were doing. 

He just didn’t get it.

From Dean’s point of view, you should have been desperate to get out and experience life but who better to show it to you than Dean? That was the only thing that you ever said when he brought it up. 

You just didn’t understand how he could ever worry about something like that. After all, how many guys your age were going state-to-state, hunting monsters and saving lives?

Dean Winchester was one in a million...whether he chose to believe it or not.

Take today for example, you had tagged along with Sam and Dean to track down a poltergeist that was committing a series of gory murders in a small town. 

It had been a ridiculously stressful hunt, and it could have been dangerous but you had never felt more alive. You were obsessed with the thrill of the hunt. In fact, there was only one thing you liked more.

...And that was drinking. 

You had learned early on that going to the bar with the guys after a hard case was the best way to unwind. There was honestly nothing like it and you had never passed up a chance to go after everything was over. 

Which was good, considering the fact that Dean also really liked to hit the bar when he was stressed. 

...But he wasn’t the only one. 

There were a ton of guys with really hard lives and things they’re running from. Everyone had things they were trying to forget and liquor just aided in that journey. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing liquor did. 

It also made some men lose their tact, which with a beautiful woman around, was never good. It was a bad combo and Dean was really figuring that out tonight. 

“What’s wrong Dean?” you wondered, in a sing-song tone, even going so far as to throw your arm over his shoulder casually. 

The action was a little goofy with the slight drinking you’d been doing but you were in no way drunk. 

You had just been trying to get him to play pool for an hour now and tonight he was practically a bump on a log. 

...It was no fun at all. 

Especially not considering how much fun Dean was when he was in a good mood. You just missed it tonight, and you had no idea what was on his mind.

  “Nothing’s wrong, just got a lot on my mind” he tried, but you knew better. 

He may have been older than you but sometimes his pouting made you doubt it. You and Dean had been together for too long for that to work. 

The two of you had nearly died today and all he could think about was the hunt. It was kind of unbelievable. 

However, you were missing the biggest part of this whole thing. You had no idea but you and Dean weren’t alone in your casual affection. At some point, you had caught the attention of a group of strangers. 

...But you hadn’t noticed yet. 

You thought that there was something wrong with you, or that he was bored of your company. 

“Please Dean? Can’t we just play? I wanna have a good time and forget about the monsters” you begged, your voice nothing more than a purr in his ear. You were desperate for a little fun, especially after such a long and stressful day.

Though, you still didn’t know that across the bar stood that group of younger guys, not much older than you are. 

They’d had their eyes on you since you two walked in, and it was really starting to bother Dean.

He couldn’t stand it. 

Dean had been around the block before, and he had been that sort of guy. He knew that they were talking about him, and that they were weighing their options about what their chances were with you. 

They thought that he had robbed the cradle, and they were planning on taking you away from him...and why wouldn’t you go?  They were young, and built and they could offer you the world.  

How was he supposed to compete with that?

“I’m not really in the mood tonight, why don’t you play without me?” he suggested, waving over to the table begrudgingly. He felt bad about it but he just couldn’t fake it tonight. 

These were the sorts of things that really got to him about the age gap that you two had. Other people constantly had their eyes on you, as if you didn’t know what you were missing out on. 

Though, you both knew that wasn’t the case. 

As far as you were concerned, you weren’t missing out on anything, and Dean didn’t ever get that far. He was fully in love with you, and as long as you wanted to be with him, he would take it. 

...But not tonight. 

Tonight, he just needed to sit by himself and stew over everything that was bothering him. 

It was the way the Winchester men dealt with things, and there was nothing he could do to change that. 

You nodded, taking the hint and heading over to the table. Luckily, you were able to reach out to a few people at the pool table and join their game. They were nice, but you found it really hard to take the distraction. 

You were just worried about Dean. 

So worried, in fact, that you completely missed the one brave guy out of the pack who approached you. He had just chugged an entire beer can, and he was feeling on top of the world.

Clearly, that had led him to believe that you wanted anything to do with him. Even if you were putting out every single signal telling him that wasn’t the case.

As far as you were concerned, it didn’t matter if this guy was David Beckham or the queen of England. 

The last thing you wanted right now was for some average Joe to bother you. 

Not that your very clear body language kept him from coming. 

Before you could say or do anything about it, his arm was slung around your shoulder, a clumsy stumble following. He wasn’t smooth by any means, but weren’t too worried about it.

You were a literal monster hunter. You could handle a handsy frat boy that was too far out of his depth. 

Both you and Dean had handled worse. 

“Can I help you?” you wondered, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you shrugged him off, not even bothering to drop your pool cue. You didn’t imagine this would take too much time at all.

The Bozo to your right only laughed, smiling at you with a lopsided grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of how I could help you” he suggested, the words leaving his throat in a sick tone.

It made you want to be ill. 

This guy was a creep and you knew for a fact that he had nothing to offer you. Though, before you could inform him of that simple fact, an all too familiar hand fell down on his shoulder. 

...Because as it would turn out, Dean couldn’t just sit by and watch.

He knew that you could handle it, but he couldn’t help himself. As much as he tried to stay out of it, it made his blood boil to watch someone paw at you like that. 

It wasn’t in his nature. 

“Is there a problem man?” the younger guy wondered, looking at Dean as if he’d committed some sort of serious offense. If only he knew what he was getting himself into.

You could tell that Dean was doing his best to keep calm, which was good. However, you couldn’t be sure how long that patience would last. 

If you knew anything, it wouldn’t be long at all.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but patient wasn’t one of them. 

“No, there’s no problem at all...except for the fact that you’ve got your hands on my girl” he started, his jaw tensed slightly as he addressed the frat boy by your side. 

He seemed just as upset as you could have expected, though he was doing a pretty good job of keeping it hidden. 

“Wait, hold up, this is your girl? Is that what you’re telling me?” the stranger laughed, looking between the two of you with a grin on his face. 

...Obviously that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but you didn’t get it.

There was nothing funny about it and as soon as he said it, you found yourself getting angry. Not only was this guy a creep, but he was also gonna question a man like Dean? 

He must have been an idiot. 

However, before you could step up and make that point, Dean stopped you with a calm glance. 

You hadn’t been prepared for that reaction, but Dean had. From the moment that you two started doing this whole thing, he had been waiting for these kinds of reactions. 

A guy like him had no business being with a woman like you, and he knew that. 

“Look man, I get it...but yes, this is my girlfriend and I’d appreciate it if you backed off” he suggested, knowing it wouldn’t go down that easily. Though, he wanted to give this kid a chance. 

After all, he was just a young guy trying to have a good time and Dean understood that, not that he was going to let this whole thing slide if he kept it up. 

...And of course he kept it up. 

“Oh yeah? You’d appreciate it?” he scoffed, glancing down at you. “Can you believe this guy, honey?” he just kept going, laughing. 

You could have killed him. 

There was only one thing that you knew in this moment, and that was that this wasn’t going to end well.

*Bonus* 

“Are you alright baby?” Dean checked, smiling at you in a tired sort of way. It had been a long day, but you nodded, anyway. 

“I’m fine, are you okay though?” you hummed, returning the favor. He seemed alright, but the bruise blooming on his cheek proved potentially different. 

That jerk had got one lick in before Dean knocked him out. 

Little did you know, but in that moment, Dean had actually never been better.

[ericsonclan]

Never Forgotten

Summary: Gabe visits Mariana's grave and decides to take Nurgul with him this time.

Word Count: 2203

Read on AO3:

Gabe stood in the chapel. The warm lights of the early afternoon pierced through the boards on the colored glass causing oranges, yellow and reds to dance upon the floor. The faint smell of wax filled the rooms as the light flickered on the white candles that lit the metal chandeliers and the different candle stands around the room. Fresh flowers were placed around the memorial of those who New Richmond had lost.

Gabe’s eyes glanced at his dad’s picture. David stood in the photo smiling by a grill, ready to celebrate a day with his family. A lump of sorrow filled Gabe’s throat and he looked away. His hands focused on taking out Mariana’s old cassette player. Slowly he placed the headphones on and pressed the play button. A happy, quiet tune began to play, one that Gabe must’ve listened to a thousand times since Mariana’s passing. Gabe took a deep breath that came out shaky as his eyes traveled up to find his sister’s picture.

He soon spotted her bright smile and her eyes that shimmered with life and hope. Extending his hand, his fingertips brushed against the picture as tears began to slip down Gabe’s face. The song swelled slightly and Gabe felt his heart sting just as sharply as the day he had lost her. After a moment of letting himself cry Gabe recomposed himself and closed his eyes. He listened to a song that Mariana had always said helped her sleep during the early days when the world had ended.

As he became lost in the song Gabe could feel his sister within the music: her hopefulness, her light, her kindness. Gabe felt his body tremble slightly with emotion as more tears slipped down his face. After a moment of focusing on his sister an old memory bubbled forth within him. Immediately Gabe reached into his jacket and pulled out a small journal. Moving his fingers to the spot where the pencil was used as a placeholder he started to jot down the memory. Gabe was so caught up in writing down all he could remember that when he felt a hand on his shoulder he jumped. Spinning around he saw Nurgul with an apologetic smile on her lips.

“Hey, Nuri,” Gabe paused the music and took off the headphones, resting them on his shoulders. Quickly he brushed away his tears.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or interrupt your private moment,” Nurgul’s eyes moved beyond Gabe and looked at the wall of all the people lost to this cruel new world.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal,” Gabe’s hands reached up and began to pull his beanie over his ears. Nurgul picked up on this simple action, one that Gabe tended to do whenever he lied.

“No, it was. I came to tell you that your watchduty is in an hour but I can leave now and give you your space,” Nurgul smiled at her boyfriend then turned to leave when Gabe spoke up.

“Wait,”

Nurgul stopped and glanced back at Gabe’s tear-stained face.

“I don’t mind the company,” Gabe’s hands gripped onto the journal in his hands, his eyes heavy with sadness but deep within them Nurgul could tell he genuinely wanted her here.

“Okay,” She walked back over and stood by Gabe. The two shared a small smile before Gabe resumed writing down the memory. Nurgul stared down at the journal for a moment then forced her eyes to look away. It was rude to stare and it was even ruder to be invasive.

Gabe caught her glance before she could look away though. He didn’t say anything at first and continued to write. After a few minutes he placed the pencil back in the journal, closed it then put it back in his pocket. The two stood in silence, their eyes focused on the memorial.

“I was writing down a memory. It was a stupid, silly one,” Gabe shook his head with a  half-hearted laugh before sniffling. “Mari and I used to love watching Javi, my dad and Pipo, my grandpa, playing dominos. It always seemed like such a fun, competitive game even if it did make Yaya give my grandpa an earful,” Gabe smiled softly as he looked at the ground. “We used to want to play the game so badly but we were too impatient to learn the rules so we made our own. It got really competitive and silly. Mari kept making up ways for her to cheat and I would always get so grumpy whenever I lost but it was all in good fun,” Gabe inhaled sharply, trying to stop his emotions from overwhelming him once more. “I wanted to write down that since I’m the one that ended up living,” Gabe felt his throat tighten. He tried his best to not let tears slip down once more but soon they stained his face anew.

Gabe couldn’t stop the tears. He felt so alone in that moment until he felt a warmth take his hand. Glancing down, he saw Nurgul’s hand holding his. His eyes wandered up and he saw her kind, gentle smile. After taking a deep breath, Gabe continued. “Mari used to say that she wanted to write down anything and everything so she wouldn’t forget. She told me once that when she forgot a memory and it became gone, a small part of her disappeared too. So I want to honor her by writing down as many memories of her as I can.”

“I think that’s a beautiful way of honoring her,” Nurgul softly squeezed Gabe’s hand and he gave a short nod.

“I think she’d agree,” Gabe was quiet for a few seconds, waiting for the moment to pass before he asked Nurgul something. “Nuri? Would you like to come with me and visit Mari’s grave? I just think...” Gabe struggled to find the right words to express how much it would mean for Nurgul to visit his sister’s grave, even if it was just once.

“Of course, as long as you’re okay with that. I would like to pay respects to someone I’ve heard so many great stories about,”

Nurgul’s words made Gabe smile and he lifted up her hand, placing a warm kiss upon it.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it. We just have to find someone to drive us out there and grab some flowers,” Gabe placed away the cassette player and headphones and led the way out of the chapel.

“Okay,” Nurgul gently swayed their joined hands. She wanted Gabe to know she was right by his side as they stepped outside.

They were halfway through the courtyard when Gabe remembered he had watchduty. “Shit, I forgot I have watchduty in an hour. I don’t want to put pressure on this visit,” He swore under his breath and tried to shake away the frustration that was building up inside of him.

“It’s okay. I’ll ask Mia or Jimmy and see if they’re okay with switching shifts,”

“Really?” Gabe looked somewhat surprised by his girlfriend’s offer.

“Yeah, this is more important,” Nurgul got on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Gabe’s cheek then slipped her hand out of his. “I’ll meet you here in fifteen,”

“Okay,” Gabe gave a small wave, a happy smile on his face as he watched Nurgul run off to see if she could switch shifts for him. After waiting a moment longer Gabe walked off to find some flowers and a driver.

Fifteen minutes moved by quickly and soon Gabe was on his way back to the courtyard, two bouquets of purple and white hyacinths in his hands and Noah strolling beside him. Once he was in sight of the courtyard he noticed that Nurgul was already waiting for him. Her foot dragged absentmindedly across the ground as she patiently stood there until her gaze moved up and she spotted Gabe. Immediately a gentle warmth overtook her eyes and she gave a smile. Gabe walked forward and gave Nurgul a quick kiss.

“Any luck?”

“Yeah, Jimmy immediately said he had somewhere to be when I went to ask him but I got Mia to switch watchduty times with you.” Nurgul noticed the small flicker of annoyance in Gabe’s eyes at the news of Jimmy but it soon disappeared.

“Classic Jimmy. Glad Mia was willing to switch. I got the flowers and Noah,” Gabe held up the bouquets then motioned to Noah who gave a friendly wave.

“Hey there, just here to give you two a ride to C n C’s auto stop and make sure no crawlers get the jump on you,”

“Thank you,” Nurgul smiled at her friend and Gabe quickly added a thanks of his own.

“Heh, it's fine. Besides, isn't this the third thanks you’ve given, Gabe?” Noah teased Gabe lightly then started to lead the way to the cars. The two bantered for a while about this, both trying to get Nurgul on their side but Noah knew it was pointless to try soon enough. While Nurgul did stick by him and banter for a bit she always leaned more towards Gabe’s side.

The casual conversation lasted for a little while longer as they drove but as they approached the destination Gabe grew quiet. His hand held onto Nurgul the entire drive there, his grip slowly becoming tighter when Noah stopped the car.

“Let me just clear out those crawlers. Stay put,” Noah smiled back into the rearview mirror then got out of the car. Taking out his knife he made fast work of the living dead, their blood and brain matter soon slick on his blade and his shirt. After a few minutes he opened the car door. “Got some goop on my new shirt but besides that everything’s good. You ready?” His eyes met Gabe’s who gave a nod.

The three were shortly on their way to Mariana’s grave. A small wooden gravemarker that Javi and Gabe made stood in the pile on dirt.

As they approached the spot Gabe’s hand let go of Nurgul’s and he walked forward. “Hey there, Mari. Sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Javi gets worried whenever I come out here but don’t worry, I brought some people to watch my back. No muertos are gonna get me today,” Gabe smiled at the grave but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. With a dry swallow he tried to find the right words, his lips parting for a moment before closing once more.

Gradually all of his walls were falling down, his emotions open and on display as he wore his heart on his sleeve. Kneeling down, he placed the bouquet of white and purple hyacinths on the grave. “I brought someone here with me today. Someone that I’ve been meaning to bring by for a while. I’ve told you a lot about her.” Gabe glanced back. “Nuri,”

Nurgul picked up on the subtle signal and walked forward. Slowly she knelt beside Gabe and placed down her own bouquet, paying respects for one that she admired deeply. “I’m glad I finally got to pay my respects. I’ve heard a lot about you. It would’ve been nice if we had gotten to meet,” Nurgul smiled at the gravemarker as tears began to trickle down her face. “I hope wherever you are you’re at peace.” She prayed that this small gesture honored the lost sister of the one she cared so much for. Nurgul stared at the grave for a moment longer before she heard sniffles beside her. Looking over, she saw Gabe blinking rapidly in a fruitless attempt at stopping his tears.

Gabe took a shaky breath when he felt Nurgul’s hand on top of his. “I think she would’ve really liked you. Probably tease me a lot about stupid shit. I wish she was here to tease me,” Gabe inhaled sharply, his voice becoming caught in his throat as copious tears fell from his eyes.

Nurgul turned to face Gabe and silently wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for letting me visit your sister,”

Her words made Gabe’s eyes grow blurrier with tears and he grasped onto Nurgul, his emotions overtaking his body. Nurgul held onto her boyfriend tightly, letting him cry for as much time as he needed. Allowing him to show vulnerability in a world that did not always give you that luxury. Moments passed as Gabe continued to sob until he grew quiet but held onto Nurgul regardless. “Thank you for coming with me,” He whispered, his head tucked close to Nurgul’s ear.

“Of course, I’m here for you,” Nurgul held Gabe closer and he seemed to melt in her embrace.

“I’m here for you too. I’m gonna be strong,” Gabe’s words were muffled as he hid his face in her gray cardigan.

“You already are,” Nurgul whispered and soon the two of them grew quiet, enjoying the hug for as long as they could. Eventually Gabe drew back just a bit, enough to hold the gaze of Nurgul’s dark eyes in his own, and began to share more stories of Mariana while Nurgul listened, smiling softly at the tales and the fact that Gabe’s smile had finally returned to his eyes.