#I also don’t completely remember the description but I don’t think she has like. home grown horns

[ragnars-tooth]

God FORBID women do anything

Pri:magon zanna is rattling around in my brain like a shiny penny and she must be let out on occasion for some crime and relaxation

[aurorawritestoescape]

HEATWAVE || Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,5k

Summary: Joel helps you to cool down on a hot summer day. In his own way.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, horny!Joel, sweaty filthy sex, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, creampie, cum eating, fingering, praise kink, swearing, pet names (baby, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I’ve been dying of heat all week but imagining Joel railing me slightly alleviated my hardship. Hot Joel kiss to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕Hope you will enjoy this story. Love ya!❤️

same couple - HEATWAVE collection || MASTERLIST

“Don’t, Joel.”

“What?”

“Don’t touch me, please. It’s too fucking hot.”

Joel sighs and falls back on the couch as you shift away from his feet, getting comfortable as far as possible from his heat radiating body.

“Fine. Jus’ wanted to make you feel good. You’ve been snappy all day.”

“Sorry. It’s all this damn heat! I’m dying without the AC!” You groan and shake the hem of your crop top, trying to cool off just a little. You’re wearing the tiniest shorts you could find but nothing really helps when you’re dealing with a Texas summer without any conditioning.

“It’ll be fixed tomorrow, baby, don’t worry.”

“I know but… ugh!”

You throw a glance at Joel who has the most sympathetic expression on his handsome face. You also can’t deny that he looks hot like this, completely naked except for his home shorts. His broad chest, rising and falling in steady rhythm, is glistening with sweat, his thick thighs are spread and his cock is slightly tenting his only garment. You’d eat him whole if not for the fucking heat!

Torturing you even more he gives you his bedroom eyes and you bite your lip, thinking how to fuck him without touching him. Suddenly your gaze lights up.

“Oh! I know what we need!”

He raises one brow in a silent question and you start hastily explaining, at the same time grabbing your phone off the coffee table and opening a browser,

“I’m gonna look for hot weather sex positions.”

Joel chuckles and you furrow your brows at the man.

“No, don’t laugh. They minimize skin contact and should be easy on the movements. I saw an article once.”

Your pussy aches more and more the longer you watch Joel splay on the couch and you need him to be on board with your idea but he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic.

“Not sure it’ll help much but…let’s try it,” he shrugs and you beam at him before typing away.

As always when you need it the most, the internet is slow and you shake your leg, already losing patience.

In your peripheral vision you notice Joel move and your eyes shift from your phone screen to him for just a second. You do a double take when you see him pull the waistband of his shorts down, freeing his semi hard cock, as his mischievous gaze is set on you.

"What are you doing?" you groan at the sight of his big hand, wrapping around his long juicy member.

"Jus' a lil' pre-game, baby. Go on with your research."

You watch him give his manhood a few languid pumps and your mouth waters when some wetness beads on the tip. A new surge of desire burns your core and your breathing fastens. A few seconds later you remember what you were doing and turn away from the hot sight so you could return to the task at hand.

You try to open the first link but it’s loading for eternity so you close it with a curse and press the second one.

Then soft grunts reach your ear and you see Joel pleasure himself in earnest, as his cock is drooling on his veiny hand.

“Hey, wait for me, would you?” You grumble, tapping the same link three times, as if it can make it open faster.

“I’m imagining your hand doing it, sweetheart,” Joel smirks with his eyes already hazy as his palm is sliding up and down his length, thumb brushing over the tip from time to time, “or your pretty mouth, licking my cock. Oh, I bet your pussy wants some of this. She doesn’t care about the heat.”

You know he’s teasing you so you’d hurry up but the solution of your problem is so close that you can’t just stop now. So you fix your shorts that are sticking to your already wet folds and avert your eyes from your tormentor.

“Fucking cookies,” you curse, getting hotter because of the sweltering weather and also after noticing Joel buck his hips to fuck his fist better.

Finally you find an illustration of an almost contactless sex position and tilt your head, trying to understand it.

“Where’s his..? Oh! But… Nah. I’d break your dick like that.”

“We don’t want that,” Joel chuckles, his voice strained with pleasure he’s giving himself.

You’ve never seen him jerk his cock for such a long time so your gaze involuntarily shifts away from your phone again and you shamelessly stare at his hand gliding up and down his stiffness.

“We miss you,” Joel taunts you, seeing desire paint your face, and shakes his cock from side to side, spilling precum everywhere.

“Joel..” You whine and using every ounce of your will you tear your eyes away from his body and return them to the screen.

“Ok, this one is more doable. But it’ll take me forever to come like that… Oh and this… this just defies gravity.”

Giggling at the picture, you show Joel the screen and he gives you a polite smile but his half-lidded eyes tell you that he’s already deep in the ocean of lust, close to reaching his high.

Your gaze slides down to his throbbing cock, his big hand jerking it and you give up. You throw your phone back on the table and with a quiet “Fuck it,” you decide to literally fuck it. Fuck Joel.

Your man’s eyes light up as he coos at you,

“Yeah, c’mere, baby. Come sit on your popsicle.”

You laugh, climbing up the couch over his huge body and straddling his thighs. His skin is unbearably hot but your need overshadows everything.

You take his cock in your sweaty hands and purr, wetting your lips, “popsicle? shall I lick it first then?”

“Usually I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that, but…,” he says, taking in your body, wrapped in a tight crop top and little shorts. You hear him groan as you lean down to his leaking cock but then his hand on your cheek stops you, “but! I’ve been playing without you and … My cock’s ready for your sweet pussy, baby. Gimme.”

With that he shifts to the side and pulls you to lie down next to him on the couch. The warmed up surface and Joel’s huge body pressed close to you make you whine as another wave of heat hits you.

“Shh,” Joel shushes you and clumsily sits up, almost making you fall off the narrow seat.

He takes his shorts off and helps you discard your clothes as well.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, his hungry eyes travelling over your exposed body, “wanna lick you all over.”

You take a sharp breath, suffocating with lust, but then Joel does the unforgivable. He lays down on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and you’re about to cry at how hot the vast expanse of his sweaty skin makes you.

“Joel!” You cry out, trying to push him off, palms braced on his chest, but the next second his lips crash against yours and he’s giving you a heady kiss which quickly makes you forget all about the heat. You’re immediately enchanted by him, his taste, his desire for you. The kiss is sloppy and messy and you cool off a little whenever your wet lips part from each other, even only for a second.

Soon sweat coats your body and Joel’s cock pulsating against your belly turns you into a desperate puddle. To get some respite from the heat, you tilt your head down and blow on your chest.

“It won’t help,” Joel murmurs, “Maybe this will.”

He hunches over you, leans down and licks a long stripe from your breast over your neck and jaw and reaches your lips and kisses you again. You hum with pleasure, noting your salty taste on his tongue and enjoying the sensation of the cooling wet path on your skin.

You’re making out for a few more seconds but the ache between your thighs makes your wriggle under him and Joel hastily lifts his torso and hovers over you, his chest inches from yours as you breathe out after this tiny relief. You glance down and see his heavy cock rest on your mound, his balls pressed to your folds, some wetness smeared on your belly where he is leaking on you. The sight makes you whine his name and reach for his big member.

It’s hot, stiff and damp when you caress it gently with your fingers and Joel’s dark eyes lower to the place where you’re making him even harder if it’s even possible.

“Put it in, sweetheart. Want you on my cock already. You’re drippin’ all over me. My balls are fuckin’ drenched.”

His Texan drawl is even more apparent when he’s so turned on and you know it’s time for him to fuck you. But he teased you so much. Why can’t you?

You throw your legs apart wider, but pressing your hips deeper into the couch, pull away from Joel’s hot crotch. You feel the air slightly cooling your sopping pussy and it feels so amazingly good, that a gasp climbs up your throat.

“Where’re you goin’, naughty girl?” Joel groans and rolls his hips against your pussy, scorching you with his heated thighs, balls and cock, making you mewl. He overplays you, making your hungry hole clench around nothing, clit twitch and you immediately bring your hand down and push his pulsating hot length into your soaked entrance. Both of you moan loudly at the anticipated sensation.

Joel drops his body on you again, holding some of his weight as he braces his forearm on the couch.

You should be uncomfortable, annoyed, hot and miserable but all you feel is his cock spreading your insides, his balls rubbing against your ass. His scent, a mixture of sweat and musk with a slight trace of his favorite piney deodorant, envelops you completely. He invades all your senses at once and you let him, welcome it with your body and soul.

“Joel,” you whisper, choking on your feelings and hugging him even closer.

“I know, baby, I love you too,” he replies, covering your whimpering mouth with his and drinking your oh’s and ah’s.

Soon he’s rolling his hips, his thrusts languid and gentle, as you’re making out, glued together by desire and love. You become one as the heat, radiating from the two of you and the sweat on your skin are mixing together and your bodies slide against each other in this lustful dance.

His cock is massaging your walls, kissing your cervix with its fat head and you glide your hands over the expense of Joel’s dewy back, shoulders and arms before they sneak down and you grab handfuls of his ass. You start grinding your pussy against his pelvic bone and coarse hair.

Suddenly Joel lifts his torso and looks at you, blown out eyes darting between yours, his hips still moving.

“You’re drownin’ my cock, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wet. My perfect pussy. Wanna see?”

After hearing your sultry ‘yeah’, Joel brings his hand to your face, brushes your lower lip with his thumb and then his palm glides down your heated body. Your skin erupts in goosebumps from the gentle contact and you whimper when he runs his fingers over your slicked up folds, spread around his fat cock.

You lift your hips chasing his touch on your clit, and he grants your wish. His index and middle finger find your hardening bud and he swirls it for a few seconds, closely watching your reaction. Your lips part and eyes flutter shut, as his cock and fingers make your pussy purr. Joel’s manhood twitches deep inside you before he pauses his thrusts into your wet heat.

Suddenly he pulls his cock out entirely.

“Joel! No!”

He tsks at you for the impatience but then his girthy length gets replaced by three of his fingers and you gasp and then moan when he begins pushing them in and out of your messy cunt, curling them to press the pleasure spot inside your core.

Joel sees how close you’re by the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your walls start squeezing his digits harder and harder. He places his thumb on your clit and pushes, sending a new wave of ecstasy to your brain and you cry out as your climax hits your sweaty body. The drops of your sweat slide down on the couch because of how hard you tremble under him and Joel watches the euphoria course through you with an adoring gaze.

“Yeah, jus’ like that. Good girl.”

When you still and open your spent eyes at him, his fingers curve inside you as he scoops your slick and cum and then pulls them out. He raises his hand and watches your creamy juices slide down his hand.

“Joel,” is all you manage to mewl, witnessing your liquid euphoria.

With his tongue peeking out, he brings his hand to your chest and paints your pebbled nipple with your wetness. Then he leans closer and blows on it and you moan at the temperature change.

“Yeah, you like it, huh? Dirty girl.”

As if confirming his words, your nipple hardens more and with a grunt Joel latches onto your breast and licks off the taste of your pussy. You whimper as another course of pleasure reignites your core.

Joel hums, enjoying the flavor of your skin, and the next moment his cock spears you in one go and he begins pounding into you, pulling his hips back fast and thrusting his throbbing manhood into your sopping pussy with hard and sharp strokes. His tongue continues dancing over your tits and you clench his curls with the last drops of strength you have in your spent body. After a few more thrusts, Joel parts from your puffy nipple and growls, still railing you.

“Fuck, baby— choke my cock again— C’mon, be a good girl—come again.”

He kisses you passionately while his hand slithers down between your bodies and he starts rubbing your clit, chanting, “One more, one more.”

In no time you’re squealing as your pussy is clamping around his cock and it sends him over the precipice. Joel breathes out a moan and his hips jerk again and again, sending rope after rope of his hot cum inside you. Your cunt keeps milking him of the last drop as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, your eyes locked with his and full of gratitude, love and euphoria.

You’re descending from your highs together, limbs tangled and bodies flush against each other. To your surprise the sweat cooling your skin and his cum seeping out of your pussy send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m cold,” you mumble into the crook of his neck.

“Really? Maybe we don’t need AC at all? I can just fuck the heat out of you?”

“Yes, we do,” you disagree, giggling.

“But I loved helping you, baby. We should reschedule the repair for next week.”

You push him off you, burning the man with a fiery gaze, “Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.”

“I’m kiddin’, sweetheart,” Joel chuckles, hugging you tight and shutting your grunts up with a kiss. A second later you feel hot all over again.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖

Same couple - HEATWAVE collection || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 31

quick note first of all, would anyone be interested in me also doing a liveblog for 'The Unwanted Guest' as well as these remaining chapters?

and after three books we’re back on the Ninth where this all started. Kiriona’s putting on a bit of a show with the ‘Home sweet home’ thing, but it really can’t be pleasant returning to somewhere she spent an absolutely horrible childhood trying to escape, and without Harrow no less

this might genuinely be the first time there has ever been a dog on the Ninth, i don’t really see the cult of goth priests being big on pets

‘then again, i’m not sure of John period’ yeah me neither, quite frankly even after a book which spends half its page time detailing his backstory i’m still unsure about what exactly his plans and powers are

‘a string of fairy lights wouldn’t have gone amiss’ honestly given Harrow’s general penchant for interior bone design, i think she could be persuaded if the fairy lights were made out of actual bone somehow

ohh holy shit there was a good moment while reading that description of Gideon surrounded by corpses with blood on her sword that i fully thought that she’d come back to the Ninth on some weird revenge mission and just straight up murdered Crux

‘My lady, you have come home to us … at last’ why is this making me feel things for Crux of all people. like he has no idea about Nona, or that Harrow’s lost in the River, or anything she’s been through at all. all he knows is that she left for the First, became a Lyctor, and never communicated or came home again

oh great we’re returning to possibly the creepiest part of GtN with the weird ‘devil’ things. between the duel of the Third and Sixth and possession of Colum Asht, the second half of that book is suddenly becoming very relevant again. while Nona’s been living in a combination slice-of-life/war drama, Kiriona’s life seems to have taken a sharp turn into zombie apocalypse novel. fun!

i’m very intrigued about the little pieces of John and Gideon’s relationship that we get here, notably i think (if i remember correctly) that this is the first time she’s mentioned him as ‘Dad’, seemingly completely sincerely, unlike calling him ‘Pops’ at the end of HtN. and apparently he falsely reassured her that the devils were confined to Antioch, but Kiriona seems to have fully believed him and sounds genuinely upset that he apparently lied about it

wow Crux literally cannot stop hating on Gideon even when he’s actively fucking dying. on one level i can admire the commitment but dude, this level of beef with a literal teenager is ridiculous

‘there was a figure there - dark robes with a pale face’ okay i really can’t figure out what is with the weird stalker figure here. is it Nona having a hallucination of Harrow? just a strange description of one of the nuns?

Pyrrha apparently painted a mint green nursery here a long time ago, i assume for Anastasia’s kid, which would explain the weird remark about helping deliver a baby back in chapter 10. also this implies a version of the Ninth which was at one point not quite so dedicated to the doom-and-gloom-bones-and-death aesthetic, which feels inconceivable to me

well hello Aiglamene long time no see, this is a slightly more welcome return than Crux at least. ngl i really wasn’t expecting to see all these characters from the beginning of GtN again, but it’s interesting to catch up and see how little has really changed there despite all the events of the series

ohhh my god. this is not how i expected a reunion between Aiglamene and Gideon to go. Aiglamene seems so genuinely shaken by the fact that she’s dead, and the fact that she’s apparently very angry at Harrow on Gideon’s behalf, like !! she definitely seems to care about Gideon a lot more than she ever actually let on to her

‘Nona was deeply horrified to see actual walk-around skeletons’ i think Harrow would be mortally offended that anyone in her body could find skeletons horrifying

actually yknow what i take back what i said in GtN about Palamedes, Paul should absolutely not be a therapist with this bedside manner

‘You can’t take loved away’ uh, excuse me for a minute i need to sit in a corner and cry my heart out for a moment. this moment really feels like a summary of a lot of themes in the whole series

ok the final nail in the coffin for my emotional wellbeing at the end of this chapter is that Pyrrha did actually get a birthday present, one that she’ll never be able to give her. here i am completely distraught over cheap moustache rides what have you done to me Tamsyn Muir

istg at least some part of Nona needs to live on. like c’mon Gideon died at the end of the first book and she’s still kicking, Nona can do it too. once again it is nearly the end of a Locked Tomb book and i am in severe denial about probably permanent character death

[spiderlandry]

stay — jake sully

Description: Jake reflects on a love from his past life.

Pairing: Past Human!Jake Sully x F!Reader, Jake Sully x Neytiri

Warnings/Tags: angst, kind of fluff, death mention (tom sully), i dont know anymore it’s just kinda bittersweet

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: it’s jake’s birthday today (august 24) !!! so im posting two jake fics :] the other one is fluff i promise

PRESENT

Guilt has to be some type of chronic pain, Jake thinks. It sits in his ribcage beside his heart like a heavy stone, only alleviated by the reminder that he has a life now and the past is long gone. But the problem is that it would always haunt him. He’s a sinner, he has to pay.

Being with Neytiri makes him feel alive, it really does. He loves her. But there’s a place in his heart only occupied by one person right next to Neytiri’s place—you.

You, who was the first to ever see him. The first to ever give him a taste of what it was like to love and be loved. When he was learning the words oel ngati kameie, his point of reference was you. Your heart that he so diligently worked to earn, something you shared that he didn’t deserve. Don’t get him wrong, he’s sure you’re still on your feet. Hell, you probably found someone better. He hopes you have and that you’ve also realized that one’s heart can belong to two, just like his.

He wonders sometimes if you know his heart still belongs to you.

2146

“Pretty lady,” Jake greeted you as he wheeled himself into the pub. This wasn’t his usual place, but he’d come here more regularly all because of one person: you. “How’s business tonight?”

“Better now that you’re here, Sully.” You flashed him a cheshire grin from behind the bar, pouring him the usual.

You were the pretty bartender that caught his eye, months ago. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to observe beautiful women from afar, but you were different. Though you were attractive, it was one particular conversation that drew him completely to you, where you spoke of your own dreams as a scientist even in the quickly deteriorating shithole that was the city you’d both considered home. It gave him something. It gave him hope. Just a sliver.

He watched you from the corner of the room while you did your job.

He waited for you until the end of your shift, careful not to drink too much so he can remember the next morning. To remember how you grinned at him when you opened the door to your apartment, and to spend the next few hours kissing him stupid.

PRESENT

There’s nothing like the date nights with Neytiri. It’s freedom injected into his veins. They fly together, circling the floating mountains and laughing as they chased each other. The world glitters and glows around them, and the world falls away.

By the end of the night, he cages her inside his arms, protection enough for the both of them—he protects himself by shielding her.

And there’s a flash—just a second—of his past life.

It happens. Rarely, but it happens. Sometimes Neytiri would run her fingers through his hair just right, or she would shove him playfully with such a precise force that it matches a memory buried deep under the grounds of the graveyard inside his mind where he mourned his other life, and along with it, you. For one moment, he’s back in a human body, with your soul still there with him, somehow.

He only falters for a single frame, but it’s enough for her to notice. She doesn’t pry in the hopes he’ll tell her someday. He’s got a type—Neytiri is beautiful and patient, just like you.

2148

His apartment gathered dust while he spent all of his time at your place. He’d never dare utter the word out loud, but it was becoming home for him. When you had opening shift at the bar, he awoke to gentle lips on his forehead and a promise to come home later.

Promise. Jake didn’t have much of it in his life. But once again, you reignited a sense of belonging that he once had.

There was no other place for him to be.

At least until those two agents showed up at the door and demanded he go with them. He was shown his twin’s dead body, and it was then he saw the other side of the coin. That could have been him. It should have been him, technically. Tom was always the better one.

Jake was proposed with a choice.

It was nighttime when he got to you, and you were already there waiting for him with a worried expression. There was no grieving, but there was guilt.

You held him for hours in silence after he told you what happened.

In the morning, he further explained to you what those agents told him, and you listened patiently—intently—without interruption. Afterward, you smiled solemnly. Perhaps you’d already known his choice even before he did.

For a long time, you knew that Jake felt lost. No sense of purpose, he told you. And while you were a pillar of stability for him, his heart sought for an objective. You had your studies, your aspirations. He didn’t have any goal to work toward. You, being you, recognized his craving for something more.

“If you go, I won’t hold it against you.” You said, preparing breakfast at the crack of dawn. There was only sleeplessness for both of you.

“But?” He asked.

“But what, Jake?” You glanced at him, unable to make eye contact for longer. “What do you want me to say?”

“If you tell me to stay, I will.”

“We both know I’m not doing that,” You sighed. That was the thing, you knew him too well. “Do you want me to tell you to stay?”

His silence said it all.

“Look,” despite your nerves, you finally faced him. Courage he saw in your eyes. “I love you. There’s nothing that’ll change that. I don’t want you to go, but I’ll never tell you to stay.”

“That’s nonsense.”

And despite the edge in his voice, you smiled. “This would be good for you,” you caressed his jaw. “You’ll come back. It’s not forever.”

He rested his head against your middle as you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly, scratching at the scalp.

“I’ll come back, I promise.” He whispered.

“I don’t doubt that, Jake.”

He intended to keep that promise.

PRESENT

He would never stop thanking you for not telling him to stay. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t have his family. But he promised to come back, and that’s where the guilt grows tenfold.

The guilt doesn’t end. He doesn’t really expect it to.

With a strong heart, he prepares himself to tell Neytiri about you.

In the back of her mind, she likely knew there was already someone before her. By making the bond, they share everything, and with a haze, she felt Jake’s love being shared with another. She sensed his hesitance to get close to her during training.

He tells her about finding purpose, about how he fought for you, that everything he did—even as Toruk Makto—was all so he can make you proud.

He exhausts himself telling endless stories of your adventures together on Earth, and regardless of her distaste with sky people, there is no greater joy for her than hearing him share this part of his life. It means the secret would no longer plague him.

Don’t get him wrong, he moved on long ago. Found happiness without you. But that does not mean he stopped loving you; it’s a part of him as much as his bond with Neytiri.

Someday, he hopes to pass onto his children the kind of bravery he gained from being with you. To be unapologetically courageous—to fight for want you want. When they’re older, there may be a circumstance where he can give advice from a lesson he learned from you. One of which being that there’s more love in one’s heart than they think.

He lounges with Neytiri in a secluded part of the mountains, holding her, when he spots a new light in the sky. A light that, unbeknownst to him, contains you.

[her-power]

The End of All Things (Part Two: e.m. x fem reader)

TRIGGER & C/W: 18++++ MDNI, Mama is serious!

Part One

Sweet! Semi-dom! Eddie, hurt/comfort, mostly fluff, death, talk of death, grief, descriptions of a deceased person, swearing, making out, smut, unprotected p in v (be smart, not dumb) oral/fingering outside (f receiving), shower sex, gentle choking, humor, more death talk, alcohol use, heavy drug use. This content has heavy subject material about death, dying and loss, please do not read if you are not comfortable with this. ESPECIALLY if you have recently experienced a loss and you are newly grieving. If you also feel something like this is gonna be therapeutic, do what you think feels right for you. I tried to be as accurate as possible, I put in my own experiences with funeral homes, etc

Summary: This follows the reader as they try to navigate this new love with their best friend Eddie Munson, while also navigating loss and what comes after. This takes place 5 years after S4. Reader & Eddie are in their mid twenties. The year is 1991. The song in this chapter is based off A Day to Remember song, so they get all the credit for it. I've decided to make this into 5 parts. I realized as I was writing this part there's been a theme each chapter that was completely unintentional and I'm really excited on how this is gonna go now. Enjoy!

Word Count: 13.3k

A/N: This is based off of a life changing event that happened to me when I was seventeen. This is for everyone who has suffered a loss of a loved one, a pet, a friend, a parent, a sibling. I see you and I love you. Thank you SO much for reading Part One. I honestly didn't think it was gonna get a lot of feedback like it has been, so I appreciate all of you beautiful people.

The late afternoon sun was bright and hot. The kids in the neighborhood were doing backflips in their pools, laughing and splashing each other as they welcome Summer with open arms. You sat in the living room with your father, and your uncle. All of you sat around the coffee table, and Eddie paces behind you, biting his thumbnail. Robin had come by the house earlier in the day, awkwardly and sweetly offering her condolences and almost having a full-blown happy tear crying fit when she realized you and Eddie were together.  

It had been two days since your mother’s death, and the funeral home needed answers on what to do with your mother’s body. 

“She wanted a viewing and then to be cremated after. Separate some of the ashes between us and bury her with your parents in Boston, at least, that’s what she wrote here.” Your father glances up from your mother’s document of her wishes that you didn’t even know she wrote and looks over at your Uncle Jimmy who only nodded. Jimmy hadn’t been back in Boston since they buried your grandparents, that was when you were still living there. 

Your knee bobs anxiously and sweat pools on your palms. Your rub your palms on your dark floral print spaghetti strap dress and awkwardly adjust your shoelaces on your docs. It was almost a hundred degrees outside; the air conditioner was doing next to nothing to keep the inside of your house cool. 

The thought of your mother laying on a cold table, naked, stiff, getting wiped down by a stranger, getting her make up done, and dressed into horrible clothing suddenly made your skin crawl. 

“I want to do it.” You say out loud, and you feel their eyes on you.

“Do what?” Your father asks you. He was unshaven, dark circles were prominent under his eyes. 

“I want to choose her outfit, dress her, clean her. Do her make up—"

“Absolutely not.” Your father interrupts you. 

“Why?” Your eyes narrow at him, and you feel Eddie stiffen behind you.  “She was my mother.” 

“Y/N, there’s professional people for a reason for that. I’m not going to subject you to seeing your mother’s body in that condition. You need to remember her alive, not like that.” 

“I don’t want some fucking stranger touching her. I’m doing it. They allow family to do it.” You raise your voice, and your father pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Eddie says your name, putting his hand on your shoulder. You flinch away from him, glancing up into his eyes. 

“You agree with him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. Sweetheart, you’re going to be seeing her body. Before the wake, the funeral. You shouldn’t see her like that.” He tells you sweetly and you roll your eyes, standing up from the couch. 

“If you don’t tell them, I will.” You look at your father. “She was my mother. And I’ll be damned if someone makes her look like a dime store whore. Call them and tell them I’m doing it.” 

Your father looks at you with sad eyes and nods once. Jimmy doesn’t say a word, tears fill his eyes, and he fixes his eyes on your mother's picture. Eddie stares at you, his hands gripping the back of couch and he shakes his head at you. 

“What?” You snap. “You got something to say, say it.” You instantly felt guilty for snapping, but you were exhausted. Every night since her death you were having nightmares, and Eddie was there for you through it all. Only stopping home once to check on Wayne and work a few hours at the record store. 

He stares at you, biting his bottom lip, eyes slightly narrowing, he sucks in air through his teeth. “I think you need to just stop and think for a minute.” 

You scoff, turning on your heel and storming out the back porch. You find your dad’s pack of Marlboro cigarettes. You weren’t a smoker, maybe the occasional social smoker when having a little too much to drink, but at this moment, you needed a little buzz, and if nicotine was the way to go, you didn’t hold back. The smoke billows in your lungs, and you lean back against the deck railing. Eddie comes out soon after, clad in his ripped black jeans, an Iron Maiden t-shirt and dirty converse. 

“This is crazy.” He tells you, his eyes wide with concern but no hint of judgement. 

You push yourself off the railing and walk down the steps to the backyard, you weren’t in the mood to talk anymore. 

“Stop. Just stop for a minute.” He steps in front of you, and you glare up at him. 

He sees the cigarette in your hand, his eyebrows furrow, you could tell his mind was spinning. “Give me this!” He takes the butt of your hand, inhaling on it once and flicks it behind him. 

“Spit it out, Eddie!” You were losing your patience. 

“I want you to stop and think about this, please.” He places his hands on your upper arms, you tense under his touch and gaze. “This is a body. A dead body. Your mother’s body. You are going to be alone with her. The morticians completely disconnect when they dress up a body for a viewing; you’re her daughter. You can’t disconnect.” 

You feel your anger creeping up your throat, the grief pulling at your heart, the hot tears in the corner of your eyes. “She’s mymother. Mine. You of all people should know why I’m doing this, but per usual, you’re fucking clueless!” 

He lets his arms fall. “What are you talking about?” 

“You have been hearing me scream myself awake for two nights. The nightmares are getting so bad, I feel like I’m walking into one even when I’m awake. I need to see her.” You say, gritting your teeth, and you fist the hem of his t-shirt. “This is the only way. Only way I know this isn’t some fucking dream I can wake up from. I’m doing this because I need to see that she’s really dead.” 

He stares you, the brightness from the sun made his eyes look almost gold, you put your hand over your stomach, clenching your hand into the fabric of your dress and quickly wipe a tear away. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, you’re gonna see her at the wake.” He says gently. 

“Eddie, just stop trying to be Mr. Logical and be my best friend for ten fucking seconds. How many times have I’ve tried to talk you out of something stupid? Let’s see, there’s the time you jumped the school fence to rewire the speakers so everytime the principal would get on the intercom PORN would start playing through the speakers. Or the time you stole your neighbor's car so we could catch the last showing of A Nightmare on Elm Street 4 at the drive in, in Indianapolis because the stupid van was broken or the time—"

“You’re comparing the stupid shit I did to bathing your mother's body?!” His voice rises almost comedically. “Jesus H. Christ! What I do is STUPID. What you’re wanting to do is fucking INSANE.” 

“Then I’m insane!” You yell, letting out a laugh, your hands slap against your thighs, and you shrug, a slight pain hits your chest. “Eddie, I need you to support me with this, even if you don’t like it, or if it’s weird or gross.” 

His eyes dart to yours, wide and glassy. “You think I’m freaking out because I think it’s gross? I’m freaking out because it fucking breaks me everytime I hear you cry or scream or say her name and I’m left fucking speechless because I don’t know how to help you. I can see the pain in your eyes and hear it when you speak, and it’s only been two days. You have a lifetime of this, and I don’t want this to be the thing that makes you slip away from me.” 

Your stomach does a back flip, and you feel even more guilty than you did before. You step closer to him, reaching your hand up, curling your hand through his hair. 

“I’m not gonna slip away.” 

“You don’t know that.” He says, tiredly. His right hand grips your waist and gently pulls you towards him. “You’re scaring me.” 

“When have I ever let you down?” You say, giving him a small smile and he tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows 

You laugh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Don’t say the Iron Maiden show. I got the stomach bug, that wasn’t my fault.” 

He laughs, smoothing down your hair. “Yeah, you were pretty gross that night.” 

“You’re the only who decided to stay.” You poke him in the chest. “Sorry you were fed false information that girls don’t shit.” 

He laughs, holding you closer to him, your back slightly arches as you look up at him. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then let me be with her. Let me do this for her.” You cup his cheek, poking his dimple. “I promise you that I will be okay.” 

He lets out a low growl and you smirk. “I hate how fucking convincing you always are.” His hands squeeze your waist. “It’s annoying.” 

“But, ya love me!” You give him a goofy grin and he scrunches up his nose. 

“Yeaaaah…kind of regretting opening my mouth now.” He laughs when you slap his chest. “I’m kidding, you loser!” 

You laugh, going up on your toes to kiss dimple. You gently pat his shoulder and nod towards the house. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” You take his hand and walk quietly back into your home.

You had ended up compromising with your father about the whole ordeal. He wanted the funeral home to embalm your mother first and place her undergarments on themselves. You reluctantly agreed and had said for you to be at the funeral home the day before to get her ready for the viewing. Which was on Tuesday, in three days. That gave you plenty of time to decide what outfit to choose for her. You promised yourself you would wait for tomorrow; tonight, Eddie was performing at the Hideout with Corroded Coffin. It had been a long time since the band had performed there. The shitty part of growing up was responsibilities, and you all had a lot of them. Eddie was the assistant manager at the record store. Saturdays were the biggest money-making day for them, but the store owner/manager Sully had promised he could take the day to practice and to perform because it would be another long while before the band got back together. Also, Sully had a soft spot for you, and when he had heard about what happened to your mother, he had sent two bouquets of beautiful flowers to your house, along with a check for $500, which you planned on giving back to him. You worked at the Barnes and Noble in the city, and since you had been there for five years, the owners were nice enough to give you two weeks off.  Unpaid, but you were good with saving.

Gareth was the first one to greet you as soon as you walked into the door of the Hideout, he hugged you so tightly you thought your bones would break. You spot Eddie coming out the back door, he had changed into a torn up black v neck, exposing more of his chest tattoos. He was carrying an amp as you make your way towards the back, he spots you, smiles goofily at you and he struggles a little bit with the weight of it. You giggle, grabbing the other side of the amp and helping him place it gently on the ground. 

“Looks like you’re losing your strength there, buddy.” You say with a wink. “Haven’t seen you struggle with an amp since 10th grade.” 

He rolls his eyes and laughs. “You just caught me off guard, is all.” His eyes dilate, a familiar lust is in his gaze, and you blush. You were in the same outfit as earlier, just with added red lipstick. 

“You knew I was coming early.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear and he smiles, pulling you towards him by your hips. 

“I know, I just stop breathing whenever you walk into a room.” His lips gently graze yours and you lean back slightly, looking up at him with a grin. 

“You are so lame, you know that?” You laugh.

He scrunches his nose, and he laughs, pulling back from you. “Yeah, you know me too well. I suck at trying to be romantic. Give me a good D&D story line, and I’ll write the next best campaign, but romance…yuck.” 

“Just watch 9 ½ weeks, you’ll learn a thing or two.” You wink at him. 

His face falls and he laughs. “I didn’t know you saw that movie, you dirty, dirty pervert.” 

You giggle, biting your lip, stepping away from the stage to grab a drink. “Have you seen Kim Basinger in that film? I’d let that woman take full advantage of my body and be strapped to the bed for the rest of my life.” 

The familiar lust appears in his eyes again and he lets out a low growl. “You can’t say stuff like that to me before I go on stage.” His neck muscles clench as he swallows hard. 

“Why not?” You blow him a kiss, stick out your tongue and throw up the devil horns. As you turn around, you feel the cool metal of his rings wrap around your wrist and he spins you around, crashing his lips to yours. He hungrily slips his tongue into your mouth; you moan quietly, and he holds your face in his hands.

“Five minutes, all I need is you and five minutes in the bathroom.” He says breathlessly. 

You shake your head, smirking. “Sorry, Casanova. You’re gonna have to wait. Our friends are here.” You both glance at the door, seeing Steve and Robin walk through the doors; Eddie groans, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I literally hate you.” He whispers to you, and you laugh. His hands grip at the fabric of your dress, squeezing your hip, causing your dress to rise up your thigh slightly.

“Whoaaaa, getting a little handsy there, eh Munson?” Steve says with a smirk and Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve hugs you tightly, whispering a sweet condolence in your ear, causing a dull ache in your tummy. “Heard you two finally admitted your feelings for each other. Heard it was all over the house too.” 

Both you and Eddie’s eyes snap to Robin who is just smiling. “Robin! No one needs to know that.” 

“I’m sorry it just slipped out! I was so happy that you were finally together, and I couldn’t control it. We literally had a bet how long it was gonna take and I won.” 

“You guys are great friends.” Eddie says with an eye roll and a chuckle, kissing the side of your head, whispering. “You’re mine after the show.” 

A blush creeps on your cheeks and you bring your lips to his ear. “Kim Basinger.”  

He eyes you hungrily, biting his bottom lip. “Again, I hate you.” 

He walks away from you with a wink, and you giggle. You sit down at the stools with Steve and Robin, you order yourself a beer. There was surprisingly a lot of patrons in the bar tonight you notice as you look around. It was a whole eclectic group of individuals. Metalheads, town drunks who kept to themselves, and high schoolers with fake IDs. You watch as Eddie places Sweetheart over his shoulder and adjust the microphone. He throws Sweetheart over his shoulder, and smiles when Steve whoops. 

“Atmosphere hasn’t changed. It’s been a while since we’ve performed here. Thank you for being here, it is much appreciated.” His voice echoes through the microphone and you feel your stomach do a back flip. “We’re Corroded Coffin, and this is an original song.” 

He flips Sweetheart to his chest, looks at you over his eyelashes and winks at you. He glances back at Gareth who nods and hits the snare and then the double bass pedal, Eddie strums down, the buzz of the electric vibrating, and the bass rumbles through the building. They play like that for a few breaks, and Eddie starts to sing. You feel the music through your veins, remember when they wrote this song in your room during a horrendous snowstorm and your mother had made them all hot chocolate. 

You mouth along the words with Eddie: Violent delights, violent ends, end of heartache in this prison, not coming back, twisting the blade, blade of the dying, a dying wish, a dying wish, watching you fall, fall from grace, who’s gonna carry your casket? Who’s gonna carry your casket? 

Gareth wails on the drums, the double bass thrumming through your ears as Eddie goes into an electric guitar breakdown, head banging and dancing around the stage. You felt more relaxed, every horrible moment and feelings from the last few days disappearing as the music wraps you up like a blanket.  

Robin was cheering and whooping, moving her whole body to beat. Steve was trying his best to look like he wasn’t enjoying it, but his foot tapped along to the beat, and he drummed his hands along his thighs. You were vibing with the beat, your whole body moving, your hair whipping around as Eddie strummed his last cord, whipped around, met your eyes and that lust appeared again, only it was coming from you. He smirks at you and finishes the song, repeating the chorus, screaming the last line of words into the microphone and the song ends with a final drum solo. 

Eddie couldn’t believe the reaction they got from some of the patrons. Most of you ended up getting free drinks, Steve had to peel Robin away from a much older woman who was ready to eat her up if she asked, and seconds later you were holding her hair back in the bathroom as she vomited and cried about the beautiful woman who looked like Phoebe Cates from Fast Times. You had to tie your own hair back, because she was making you laugh so hard your hair kept falling in the toilet, the stalls were so tiny. You felt bad for laughing, but you had a good buzz on, and Robin was one of the funniest people you knew. Eddie made Steve pull his car around back to make it easier to get Robin out safely. She could barely walk; Eddie had stood outside the door, watching the struggle as you tried to pull Robin out of the bathroom by dragging her under the arms. He could’ve helped sooner, but watching you struggle gave him so much joy his stomach hurt from laughing. 

You groan, pulling her towards you, but you end up slipping on a wet spot and you both tumble to the ground. Robin’s face was awkwardly smushed against your chest and you glare up at Eddie from the floor, who was still laughing. 

“Help me, asshole!” You yell at him, trying your best not to laugh. 

“No, this is heaven for me.” Robin mutters, nuzzling her head in your chest. You pat her head and Eddie wipes the tears from his eyes. 

“Okay, okay, come on, you big flirt.” Eddie says to Robin, squatting down and lifting her off you, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. You lift yourself up off the floor and wipe the dirt and grime off your dress. Your hair was already falling out of the hair tie, and you follow them out the back door where Steve was waiting with the car. You heard Robin gag; Eddie looks at you with panic in his eyes and Steve helps him set her down. You quickly look for something she could vomit in and find a dirty trash bin, kicking the lid off it as you hold back Robin’s hair once again. 

“Oh, my little weirdo.” Steve says, gently rubbing her back as she vomited out pure liquid. Once she was done, and everything looked like it was out of her system, you and Eddie help her in the passenger seat of the car.

“I love you guys.” Robin says with a grin, patting Eddie’s face. “If you hurt her, I will murder you. Wait, did you smoke? Gross!” 

“I love you too, Rob.” Eddie says, kissing the top of her head. “Get her home safe.” He says to Steve and Steve laughs. 

“Wish me luck, I thought I was done being a babysitter.” He scoffs and laughs. 

“Not with your best friend, buddddy!” Robin says, blowing drunk kisses at the two of you as Steve drives away. You wave and shake your head, your stomach hurting from laughing the rest of the night.

“Ten bucks she pukes in his car.” You say, nudging him. 

“Twenty she pukes on his lap.” He holds out his hand to shake yours and you take it, agreeing to the bet.

“Deal.” You say with a chuckle. 

You pull your hair out of the hair tie and let it fall, you scratch at your scalp to soothe the tightness from it. Eddie puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks, pressing his lips to your hair. 

You sigh, leaning into him. “You okay to drive?” 

He nods and laughs, guiding you towards the van that was hidden in the darkness of the back parking lot. “Made myself sober up when I saw how drunk Robin got. You good?”

“Yeah, just a buzz.” A loud, long yawn escapes you and you laugh. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Where do you wanna go, sleepyhead?” He chuckles, rustling your hair. 

He unlocks the passenger side door for you, and you stare up at him, leaning against the door panel. You reach up, tucking a strand of curly hair behind his ear, run your thumb along his jaw as you cup his cheek. There was so much you wanted to tell him; how you didn’t believe you’d still be standing if he hadn’t been your best friend during this time; how you were so forever grateful for him and his big, beautiful heart. He smiles sweetly at you. 

“Nowhere yet.” You say softly, pulling his face towards yours. 

Your lips press against his, opening your mouth into a slow, passionate kiss. He places his palm on your lower back, pulling you against him. He tasted like beer, cigarettes, and a hint of mouthwash. He cups the side of your face, his fingers curling into your hair. A warmth settles in your tummy and between your legs, a loving ache that you’ve started to grow used to these last few days. You breathe heavily as you pull yourself away from his mouth, he stumbles into you a little, letting out a throaty chuckle, resting his forehead on your shoulder. 

You kiss his neck, catching him by surprise as you graze your teeth near the tender spot under his ear, causing him to shudder and groan softly; you bring your mouth to his ear. “I thought I was yours after the show?”

A low growl rumbles in his throat and you feel his hold tighten around your waist as he lifts you up onto the passenger seat, you squeal with delight. You try to tuck your legs under the glove box, but he pulls them back towards him, smiling under the moonlight. Your dress had risen on your thighs a little, and you shudder as his hands move up your legs, and onto your inner thighs, tugging at seam of your underwear while he stood outside the door.

You realize just then what he planned on doing, your eyes widen. “No, Eddie, someone will see.” 

“No, they won’t, trust me.” He grins at you, leaning up his chin to kiss your lips. His tongue opens your mouth, and you gasp when you feel him palm you over the fabric of your underwear. He still kisses you, moving your underwear to the side, his fingers lightly dancing against your clit. 

Your head falls back automatically, lightly knocking against the gear shift and you quietly moan. He gazes up at you, giving you that smirk, resting his chin against the hills of your breasts. 

“Louder.” He says, pulling the fabric of the top your dress down with his teeth, exposing one your breasts. You gasp again once you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple. He kisses and sucks, pulling away with a groan. “Louder.” 

He shoves two fingers deep inside you and you moan, loud. He brings his mouth back to your breast and gently bites the skin around your nipple, moaning with you as he pulls away, slinking his way down your tummy, until he’s kneeling on the metal step. He pulls his fingers out of you, smiling and placing your left leg over his shoulder. He pushes your dress up, kneading and tugging at your meaty thighs, his hot breath hits your cunt.

“Get loud for me, baby.” He whispers sexily and you feel your pussy clench at his words. 

A sound escapes you when you feel his tongue lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, and he gently sucks. You pull his hair and groan, holding onto the head rest as another loud moan escapes you. He moans, burying his face into you, gripping your thighs hard, flicking his tongue out, you feel your toes curl in your boots. He lets out a groan and runs his finger down your clit and places two back inside you. You clench around his fingers, your back arches, and you get loud. You completely forget you were only a few feet away from the back exit of the Hideout, and you smile, realizing you didn’t care anymore. He looks up at you and you meet his eyes, he curls his fingers inside you and warmth crept up your belly. You let out a breath, and make yourself sit up more, wiggling your hips to get him to pull away from your clit. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him up to your mouth until he’s climbing into the van, kissing you deeply. You crawl backwards in the driver side, pull him to where you were sitting and quickly unbutton his pants, pulling his hardened cock out of his zipper. 

He opens his mouth to say something but you’re already on top of him, kissing him again and lowering yourself onto his cock and he groans in your mouth. He holds onto your hips as you slam your ass up and down, the two of you getting louder and louder with every movement, every roll of your hips. 

“I’m yours now?” You whisper breathlessly to him, holding his face to look into his eyes, your mouth falls open in a moan.

“Yeah…unghh…yeah, fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head, a throaty groan escaping him, and you smile, moving your hips faster. 

“Good.” 

You stood in your bedroom that Monday, looking back and forth between two outfits you had picked out for your mother. The rain pitter-pattered on the roof, and you pull the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from Eddie over your head. The first outfit was a lavender button up maxi dress with sleeves, her favorite pair of Mary Jane shoes, a gold necklace with an emerald pendant. The second outfit was a dress she had worn on her twenty-five-year wedding anniversary, it was a soft blue, fitted at the waist and had floral print sewn on the chiffon skirt. Your father and uncle Jimmy were out looking for suits to wear. You didn’t sleep last night. You toss and turned, the house so eerily silent. You barely dreamt because you barely slept, and you were a little grateful for that. 

Eddie wanted to come with you today, but you knew this was something you had to do alone. He had to work at the store today and knew he would get clumsy when he was distracted so you can only imagine that the store was in shambles, and he was probably letting out high pitched yells and screaming “Fuck!” every sentence. Which made you laugh thinking about, the never-ending chaos of that man was something he should be proud of. 

Any shade of your purple was your mother’s favorite color, and you were happy with your decision when you drove silently to the funeral home and glance at her lavender dress hanging on the hook in the backseat. You decided on her sterling silver ruby pendant because you wanted the emerald one for yourself, selfishly. You tuck the pendant under your shirt and flick the radio on. James Taylor’s voice came through the speakers singing one of your favorites, and you lean back in your seat, reminiscing to yourself about the car rides like this with your mother. The rain let up a little, leaving little sprinkles of raindrops on your windshield. You had the copy of the death certificate you needed to give the funeral home in the back pocket of your jeans, you didn’t look at it yet; you weren’t sure if you were going to. 

Foster & Sons Funeral Home peaks out on the corner of a little side street and you pull down the long driveway into the spacious parking lot. You suddenly felt very small, and your heart began pounding in your chest. 

Eddie was right, this was insane. 

You rest your head against the steering wheel, inhaling through your nose and out your mouth slowly. Your hands tremble and you look up, seeing one of the directors standing by the front door. The man looked like Lurch from the Addams Family and you swallow back a cackle of a laugh because why would anything be normal about this? 

“Okay.” You tell yourself, breathing in deeply. “Okay. This is fine. This is fucking fine. She’s not even in there. It’s just a body. It’s just a body.” 

You awkwardly wave to Lurch who doesn’t even move, take out your makeup bag and your mother’s dress out of the backseat. Walking up the stone steps you can already smell the overwhelming aromas of the flowers through the door, you walk past him to the lobby, looking to your right, seeing a whole line of wreaths, standing sprays and bouquet after bouquet through the double doors to the viewing room. You pause, not bringing yourself to go in there yet and look up at Lurch who waited patiently for you. 

“Where do I go?” You ask him. “Oh.” You pull out the death certificate from your back pocket, and your hands shake as you hand it to him.

He takes it from you, giving you a soft smile. “Come with me.” Okay, Vincent Price, you think to yourself and smirk. You decided his new name was Vincent Lurch Price. What the fuck is wrong with my brain? Why are you making up names during this time? Why is he so tall? Is he wearing lifts? What the fuck am I doing here? I’ve lost it. I’m crazy. I’m fucking crazy. 

You follow him down a long stretch of hallway and were honestly surprised how big the place was. The floor was a checkboard marble, and your converse scuffed as you hurried alongside Lurch. There’s a tiny elevator he takes you to, and you step in, your stomach drops when he hits the button, and you are both lowered to the basement. 

It smelled like a haunted house. 

He leads you down a small corridor, towards a few tiny offices and stops outside a blurred glass door that says Authorized Personnel Only. He stands by the door and glances down at you. 

“She’s through there.” 

“In there?” You point to the door. “I just go in?”

He nods. 

“She is prepared for you; her modesty is protected. She has been embalmed so don’t be alarmed if the skin feels different. I will be down the hall if you need me.” He walks away from you, and you watch as his tall form disappears down the corridor. You glance back at the door and your hand hovers over the doorknob. Sighing, you push open the door. 

The first thing you notice was how bright it was in there, you had to squint your eyes; it was so clean, and cold. It just looked like an empty basement to you, with drains, and metal tables. There was a separate door that was ajar, labeled Mortician. You slowly walk towards that door, your heart pounding in your chest. Opening the door with your foot you spot the table, and there she was, covered with a clean white sheet. You stand there for a few moments, staring at the sheet. 

There’s a wooden table leaning against the wall to the right of her, you finally find your footing and rest the dress and the make-up bag carefully on the table. You rub the sweat off your palms on your jeans and let out a shaky breath. 

You put your hands on either side of the corner of the sheet and pull it down, you squeeze your eyes shut. You open your eyes, and you look down. Your breathing picks up as you stare at her, you walk backwards, your lower back hits the table and you yelp quietly. The sheet only fell a little past her shoulders, they had fastened a type of bra around her chest. Her skin looked almost gray, and you had to swallow back the bile that stuck in your throat. There was a small incision near her left collarbone, and you caught a glimpse of the autopsy stitch peeking out from the top of the sheet. Her hair was already styled neatly in the way she always wore it; you step closer. Tears fall from your eyes as you look at her face. This was your mother, but it wasn’t. You reach your hand out, carefully running your fingers down her cheekbone and you snap your hand back. It felt like a statue, it was hard, cold. You close your eyes, breathing in through your nose and then out. 

Moving closer, you reach out your hand, and smooth out her hair. Tears fall from your eyes on to the table next to where she lay. You imagined she was only sleeping, her beautiful face relaxed, a soft smile on her face. You take out your favorite picture of her and place it next to her head.  The next hour felt like a blur as you quietly put the make up on her face. You had asked Lurch to assist you in dressing her, after your attempt to do it yourself you almost vomited at your feet because you didn’t realize how stiff her entire body would be. Once she was dressed, Lurch gave you a minute with her. 

She looked more like herself, but you realize she didn’t look like she was sleeping. She looked dead. You silently chuckle to yourself, knowing that would be something she would say, and you felt slightly comforted by that. You wipe your tears away with your shirt sleeve, and lean down, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead. You look at her one last time, your legs feeling weighed down by cement blocks. 

You didn’t want to leave her alone. 

You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder, and you become startled, Lurch was giving you a sympathetic smile. “You will see her again tomorrow. She looks lovely.” 

You glance up at him, your eyes filling with tears, and you nod. He leads you out of the room and you silently cry as you both make your way up to the lobby. Before you leave, he hands you the death certificate, informing you that they already had a copy, and you take it with shaky hands. 

The walk to your car felt long, the sun was out, and the temperate had risen. You take off Eddie’s hoodie and tie it around your waist, your black tank top was sticking to you in all the wrong places. You plop in your car, put the keys in the ignition and crank the windows down. You throw the make-up bag in the backseat and feel the crinkle of the death certificate in your back pocket. Lifting yourself, you pull it from your pocket and study it with your hands. It was folded in threes, and you realize you’re holding reasons why your mother was dead. 

You cave.

You open the paper, and your eyes immediately notice the typewriter print.

Time of death: 6:00pm

Cause of death: Natural

Findings: Pulmonary embolism, myocardial infarction, renal failure, congestive heart failure (ongoing)

Congestive heart failure? Since when?

A sound so deep and guttural escapes your lungs and you let out a scream. The paper falls to the floor and you slam your hand on the steering wheel, once, twice, three times. 

You barely say a word to your father when you walked in. You had driven around for hours until it was almost dark. You muttered you were going for a walk when he asked what you were doing, and that Eddie had called a bunch of times looking for you. You grabbed some cash from your drawer and shove it in your back pocket. You head towards the front door and your father stops you.

“Please, honey. Tell me where you’re going.” He looks desperate and you felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world. He was grieving her too.

“I’m just going for a walk.” You sigh. “I’m going to a bar. I’m not gonna be late.” 

“What happened at the funeral home?” 

“Nothing happened.” You tell him, shaking your head. “Nothing happened. It was just a body.”

Stop trying to be brave, dumbass.

He stares at you. “Let Eddie go with you.”

“No.” You snap and then groan. “No, I’ll be okay. I just need to be alone.” 

“Y/N…tomorrow is the funeral…please…please don’t be stupid.” His eyes look sad, and your heart breaks.

“I’m not!” You groan. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell. I’m not gonna be stupid, I promise.” 

You open the door and step out, feeling his eyes on you as you walk down your driveway towards the end of your street. You hated lying to him, you were gonna be stupid, but you felt like you deserved to be stupid.

The walk to the bar only took twenty minutes, it was newer, recently opened within the last year. A lot more of the townies went there, some newly 21-year-olds, a far cry from what you were used to from the Hideout. It was a nice hole in the wall, two pool tables in back, a bar that was shaped like a half rectangle, and some high-top tables. You find a stool and sit on it, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and ask the bartender for a shot of bourbon and a beer. You wipe the dried tears off your face and knock back the bourbon. You realize you hadn’t eaten, but that never stopped you before. 

Eddie was panicking when he hadn’t heard from you after coming back from the funeral home. He was pretty sure your father wanted to kill him after the third phone call, and he told him you were still not home. The phone rang loud in the trailer when Eddie walked up the steps from returning home from the record store, he tripped over the rug as he ran to pick up the receiver, getting his foot tangled around the guitar cord in the process. “Fucking christ!” He grumbles, placing the phone to his ear and untangling himself. Your father tells him that you took off on a walk and had said you were going to a bar, but didn’t say which one, and that he had a weird feeling. Eddie tells him he’s going to look for you and hangs up, rushing outside to his van. He knew you wouldn’t be at the Hideout; it would be too obvious. He speeds out of the trailer park, trying to remember which bars were in the area. 

                         The cold water feels good against your face as you pat it dry from the napkin in the bathroom. You could feel the bourbon coursing through your blood stream and sigh. You wash your hands thoroughly, glancing in the mirror as the stall door opens behind you and a young beautiful blonde comes out, vigorously wiping at her nose. She had a glass mirror in her hand and places it on sink next to you, wiping at her face and washing her hands. You could see the residue of the white powder on the mirror, and your heart rate picks up a little. Was it anticipation? Fear? Adrenaline? 

The blonde sees you looking at the mirror and smirks. “All you have to do is ask, pretty.”

“Oh…no, I wasn’t. I didn’t…no thank you.” You smile awkwardly and dry off your hands. The blonde shrugs, applying mascara on her lashes. 

You walk towards the door, gripping the handle but you pause. Memories and thoughts scramble in your brain as you remember the last time you did a drug stronger than weed. You were nineteen and Steve was having a house party. You had drunkenly stumbled into the garage, seeing a few people you didn’t recognize, separating the cocaine between each other. You remember you didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t know why, but as soon as that dollar bill hit your nostril you fell in love. You felt like you could fly, you felt happy and excited all at once, you felt like nothing could harm you. That was the one and only time you fell in love with cocaine. You swore to yourself you would never do it again because of how much you loved it, how sometimes it felt like the missing piece within you whenever you felt down. 

You turn to look at the blonde and she glances at you through the mirror, smiling. She nods to the stall behind her, and you follow her. She locks the door, the two of you sit knee to knee as she takes out the mirror, placing it on the lip of the toilet seat. You thought that was kind of gross, but after she sprinkled the powder on the mirror, she took a hardcover book from her purse and placed it in her lap, which made you feel a little bit better about your decision. She separated two lines and rolled up a dollar bill. 

“Oh, here.” You tell her, handing her a ten-dollar bill. 

“Save your money, you look like you need this.” She smiles at you, her face dips towards the mirror and she snorts. You watch as the powder disappears up the straw and her head falls back and she sighs, smiling. 

She hands you the bill, and you take it, your hands shaking. But again, you didn’t hesitate. You cover one of your nostrils with your finger, and breathe in. The back of your throat immediately goes numb when you feel the postnasal drip down your throat, your nose stung a little. You sigh, wiping the excess from your nose and leaning your back against the stall door. Your lips tingle and your head feels a little heavy, but you smile. 

Oh, how you smile.

Eddie ends up finding you in the bar, dancing to Joan Jett by the jukebox with the blonde girl. The two of you had already been to the bathroom three more times, and you were very high. He could see a difference in you, but he doesn’t say anything, he couldn’t yet. You willingly leave with him, telling the blonde girl, whose name you immediately forgot. As soon as you are outside the bar, he scowls at you.

“I’ve been calling you all fucking day.” 

You glare up at him, tightening the sweatshirt around your waist, stumbling awkwardly. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Getting high, I can see.” He was mad, and there wasn’t an ounce of you that felt bad about it.

“Oh fuck off, Eddie. I had��fun. What’s wrong with having a little fun?”

He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Your mother’s funeral is tomorrow. Was it really that bad at the funeral home?”

“No!” You yell. “Fuck, I did cocaine. So what? At least I made sure it was before doing it, unlike someone who snorted a whole fucking line of heroin.” He abruptly stops walking.

“Don’t throw that back in my face! I don’t regret much but that is one of the things I fucking regret in my life and you know that!” Pain flashes in his eyes and you immediately hate yourself for bringing it up. He stops walking and stops at the door of his van. “Get in, you’re not going back home like this. You’re gonna sleep it off at my place.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You say through your teeth.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are the biggest pain in the ass, get in the van.”

“No.” You cross your arms over your chest. 

He stares at you, shaking his head. Before you could protest, he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You scream loud, and he opens the back of the van, dropping you down on the smelly, shag rug you always hated. 

“Eddie!” You scream. “Son of a bitch!”

He shuts the back of the van and you forgot that it would lock from the outside. He gets in the driver side and peels away from the sidewalk. You awkwardly stumble towards his seat. 

“This is kidnapping!” You say to him, awkwardly crawling into the passenger seat, and plopping down. You bump your head on the glove box, and he holds back a laugh.

“I’m not stopping you from jumping out the next light, sweetheart.” He looks over at you, smiling that stupid smile. 

You cross your arms over your chest and lean back, grinding your teeth. You were coming down from the drugs. “Just take me home.”

“No, your dad has already been through enough, he doesn’t need to see his only daughter coming down from a drug binge before his wife’s funeral.” He takes a sharp turn into the trailer park, and you don’t answer him. Knowing he was right, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. 

He parks in front of the trailer, and you feel his eyes on you, you both sit there in silence. “Why?” He finally asks you quietly.

“Because I wanted to feel something different.” You say, not meeting his eyes. 

“Do you have any more on you?” 

“Nope.” You tell him. “Kind of wish I did; it would make the rest of this fucking night tolerable.” 

You see a flash of hurt in his eyes and he scoffs, pushing the door open with his shoulder and slamming it shut. You watch as he goes inside, the screen door shutting with a slam. You run your hands through your hair and bring your knees up to your chest. This is the second time tonight you’ve hurt his feelings, and you knew part of it was the drugs. For almost a week he has been with you, taking care of you, making you laugh, joking with you, making love to you and you return the favor by being an asshole. 

You were so angry. Not just at yourself, but at everything. Angry that your mother was dead, angry that a simple surgery caused your mother’s apparently already weak heart to give out, angry that you had to figure out how to navigate this already crazy life without her. Angry that you hurt your best friend not once, but twice. 

Angry. Fucking angry. 

You step out of the van and step into his trailer. He was in the small kitchen with his shirt off, putting together sandwiches. It was very warm in his trailer. He didn’t look up when you walked in. You untie his hoodie and place it on the back of the chair. You watch as his back muscles clench when he reaches for two plates in the higher cabinets. You study him, the large tattoo on his back that started from his back right shoulder, all the way down to the curve of his hip. His jeans hung low at his waist; you could make out the small pieces of hair sticking out from his happy trail. 

“Where’s Wayne?” You manage to ask quietly. 

“Another overnight.” He mutters. “He won’t be back til late morning.” He puts a plate with the sandwich in front of you, it clanked loudly on the small table and the sound made you jump. He sits down on the couch, his boot clad feet rest against the coffee table and he turns on the television, still not making eye contact. You weren’t hungry, but it felt rude not to eat, you pick away at the crust from the bread. 

“You don’t have to eat it; I was just being nice.” He mumbles. He was really upset with you, and the pain in your chest got bigger as you stare at his form. 

“Eddie, I—”

“You can have my bed. It’s late, you have a big day tomorrow. I already called your dad.” He finally meets your eyes. There was nothing behind them except pure, unfiltered, hurt. Defeated, you nod, silently walking back to his room, closing the door quietly. 

Eddie watches his door close with you disappearing and leans forward on his knees, placing the sandwich he didn’t know why he made on the coffee table, holding his hands to his mouth. Part of him knew it was the drugs making you act the way, and the other part knew it was you trying to manage your own emotions with the grief. It didn’t stop the hurt he felt in his chest though; certain moments from a long time ago were brought up that he wishes never resurfaced. 

He wishes it never resurfaced because now he won’t stop thinking about it. He remembers thinking he was snorting was cocaine, but as soon as it went into his airways, he knew he had fucked up. He had vomited so hard afterwards, and wanted to kill whoever supplied the stuff. Then he started to feel it, really feel it. And everything else was over for him after that. He made the same promise to himself that you did, he would never touch the stuff again. But you broke that promise, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. 

You wake up the next morning with a groan, the sun was peeking through his broken blinds, and you squint. You had stripped down to your bra and underwear in the middle of the night, you had forgotten to turn on his air conditioner. You can hear the shower running and you sit up. Your head was pounding, not just from the hangover, but from the amount of cocaine you did the night before. 

A pain hits your chest when you realize how awful you were to him last night. You shouldn’t have done the stupid drugs; you should’ve just walked away but you didn’t.  Swinging your legs off his bed, you awkwardly stumble out of his room and head towards the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see the steam on the glass door of the shower, and a blur from where he stood. You push open the door, and you know he hears it because he pauses, but continues to wash his hair. You sit down to pee, not embarrassed by the sound of it. Being best friends with Eddie Munson for ten years, you would lose count the number of times he’s stood in the same bathroom with you as you did your business. 

You step out of your underwear and unclasp your bra. You push the sliding door of the shower open and step in. The inside of the shower itself was spacious. You stare at his back, the dimples above his ass, and the curve of his hips. He doesn’t say a word to you when you step closer to him, you press your lips on the spot between his shoulder blades, his body slightly trembles at your touch, and you slink your arm around to his chest. His hand grips your forearm, holding it there. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper to him. The water cascades down you now, your hair soaking. He takes your hand and places his lips to your knuckles, turning around to face you. You look up at him, he cups your face. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’ll live.” You say, twirling his wet curl in your fingers. “You are the last person I wanted to hurt, and I did that more than once last night. I’m an idiot, who thought they could handle something they couldn’t. And I took that out on you, I’m sorry.” 

He smiles softly, his fingers running over your lips. “I take it I was right?” 

“As always.” You say with an eye roll and a smirk. 

“Are you okay?” He asks gently and chuckles. “That’s a dumb question.” 

“No, it’s not.” You smirk and shrug. “I guess, right now I am. But I probably won’t be in a few hours. It was a lot, seeing her that way…finding out what caused…” You pause. “Eddie, how can you stand here and ask me if I’m okay and be so goddamn sweet to me with the way I acted last night? With what I brought up?” 

He smiles at you, cupping your face with both his hands. “Because even though you’re the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met in my life, I still love you. Like a whole lot. You’re my best friend, above everything else, and you need to know that nothing you can say or do will make me leave you. I already told you; you’re stuck with me.” 

“But Eddie, what I said about the heroin…”

“Look in my eyes.” He tells you and you listen. “Promise me this, okay?” You nod. “Promise me you will never touch the stuff again, and if you feel the urge to, come to me instead. And I’ll do the same.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a dull ache in your chest. What you brought up last night not only brought up memories he wished to forget but brought up the way it made him feel. As if you couldn’t hate yourself more. 

“I promise.” You tell him, opening your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.” 

“Stop.” He tells you gently, rubbing his nose along your jaw. “Just kiss me.” 

You do as you’re told, and your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. His hands caress your back, gently moving down to massage your ass. The water from the shower was steamy, and it felt good against your skin as you kissed him. You press your breasts into his chest to deepen the kiss, and he chuckles when you slip a little and fall into him. 

“Turn around.” He tells you softly, and you do so. You can hear him lather soap into his hands and groan quietly when he starts to massage your shoulders. You moan quietly, your muscles relaxing under his touch. He moves closer to you, and he lathers more of your back. His hands move to your tummy, gently rubbing circles around your belly button, moving his hands up to massage under your breasts. Your nipples harden and your head falls back into his shoulder as he gently massages your breasts, his fingers gently moving over your nipples. The sensation of his lips on your neck, the sound of the shower and the intimacy of him touching you causes a wetness to pool in between your legs. 

You can feel his cock pressing onto your ass and gasp when his hand travels over your mound and fingers your clit. His lips still lick and suck at the skin of your neck and your breathing picks up. He holds one of your breasts in his hands while the other plays with you gently. You reach behind you, taking his cock in your hands and start gently stroking him. His moan rumbles against your ear and he pinches your nipple. He rubs you faster, and you drape your other arm around his neck, moaning loud. His lips find your mouth, and he kisses you deeply and opens his mouth to massage your tongue with his. He pulls away from you, pushing you against the glass door with a thud and you smile in amazement at his forceful gesture. He goes down to his knees and he immediately sucks on your clit. You gasp, your back arches against the glass and he massage your ass, groaning as his buries his face into you, lapping you up. 

He pulls away with a moan and looks up at you with a smile. “Fuck, you taste so good.” 

He stands up again; kisses you hungrily and whips you around so you’re pressed up against the glass. The coolness from the glass makes your nipples harden once again and you bite your lip, feeling him move his fingers up and down on your opening. You feel him press up against you and the hardness of his cock as he brushes the tip of it against your ass and grinds into your folds.

“Oh…” You moan out and you feel him as he angles your ass up a little. His slides his cock into you and the bathroom echoes with both of your moans. He fucks you against the glass, each roll of his hips causing a sensation to flow from your belly all the way down to your toes. Your head leans back and you feel his hand cup around your throat, gently applying pressure and you cry out, pushing your ass against him as he slams into you, harder. 

He applies more pressure to your throat, and you welcomed this new pleasure with open arms. This was a sensation you’ve never felt before, he wasn’t hurting you, or trying to cut off your air supply, but it was new and the way he was manhandling you was making you seconds away from exploding all over his cock. His mouth finds your ear and gently grazes his teeth. 

“Ooh, someone likes it when I do this.” He coos in your ear, groaning with every thrust. Your cunt aches nicely at his words; still getting used to the fact that your best friend, who was now your boyfriend, your lover, who you were madly in love with, was fucking you like this. 

He thrusts into your harder and you cry out when he pulls away. He turns off the shower and you turn to look at him, catching your breath, your cheeks flushed, both of you soaking from head to toe. He kisses you deeply, pulling away to lick your neck, suck and bite at your nipples. 

“Get on my bed.” He tells you breathlessly. You still stare at him as you open the shower door, he helps you step out carefully and you still watch him with a smile, walking backwards towards his room. He shuts his door, spins you around and pushes you on your stomach, lifting your ass up to meet his hips. You grip his sheet as he slams his cock back inside you, the sounds that came from him were almost animalistic and so sexy, you moaned loudly with him. He holds your hips, and you arch your back, your hair was dripping onto his covers. 

Tugging gently at your hair, he lifts you up so your back is against his. His mouth meets yours and you kiss passionately, his hand is at your throat again, pressing down, your cunt clenching as you get close to release. His other hand goes in between your legs and finds your clit, rubbing circles as he continues his rhythm. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans in your ear, his movements getting a little sloppy as you continue to clench around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, Eddie.” You cry out and he moans in approval, his cock hitting your insides faster and faster until you scream out his name and you cum, hard. The sudden tightness around his cock causes him to groan out, exploding inside of you and he lets out a loud, throaty moan. He breathes loudly, still groaning out as you feel another orgasm rip through you. The sounds from both of you were so pornographic you didn’t know how to form words. You collapse onto the bed, your face burying in his pillow as you gasp and catch your breath. You smile lovingly as you turn to your back and let out a soft laugh. He swallows hard, gently laying on your chest and brings your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently. Your back arches at the sensitivity and another moan escapes you. His wet hair was draped over your chest, and you curl your fingers in it. 

“That was…” you laugh. “That was different.” 

He lifts his face to look at you, gently grazing his fingers over your throat. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No, nope.” A laugh escapes you. “Never thought in a million years I’d be choked out by my best friend, and it feel good.” 

He blushes, hiding his face in your chest. You rub his back gently, and sigh. You both lay there quietly for a few moments. Realizing what today was, your stomach does a back flip, and you tighten his hold on him. 

“I’m scared.” You whisper. 

He gently rubs your belly. “I know.” 

“You’ll stay with me? The whole time?” 

He lifts his face up to meet your eyes, running his hand over your face. “I won’t leave your side. I promise.” He leans up, kissing your lips sweetly, gently and you sigh, holding him closer as you stare at the ceiling. 

Eddie had driven you back home to get ready, he promised he would be back as soon as he was dressed and meet you back at your house. You had hugged your father so tightly as soon as you walked in, taking him by surprise. You stood like that hugging him for minutes and he embraced you lovingly, you apologized for last night. You left out the part of you finding out that your mother had congestive heart failure, you didn’t feel right bringing up an ailment your mother had for years, unsure if he knew or not.

The funeral itself started at 4:00pm, but they wanted the family to come an hour and half early to take some time with her. Since your mother was being cremated afterwards, the burial would be private, and the plan was for your uncle to go to Boston to place some of her ashes in the soil of your grandparents’ grave. Your father had asked if you wanted to do the eulogy, you reluctantly agreed but had no idea what you wanted to say or could say. You stood in your room in front of your full-length mirror. You stood there in black tights that went all the way up your waist, and a black lacey bra. For someone who had an entire wardrobe full of dark clothes, especially black, you couldn’t decide on a top. 

You end up finding a fitted black dress with short sleeves, the neckline was a little low, but you placed your mother’s emerald necklace over your head to give it a pop of color and something to look at besides the hills of your breasts. Your doc martens were your mother’s favorite shoes on you, you would catch her wearing them from time to time, so you step into those. 

You had accentuated the waves in your hair with a little hairspray, placed a little mascara on your lashes and didn’t bother with lipstick. There’s a knock at your front door and you glance at the clock, it was 2:30pm, it must’ve been Eddie. Your father had let him in, and you could hear them patting each other on the back’s after giving each other a hug. You hear his footfalls come into room and you glance at him in the mirror leaning against your door frame. Your breath hitches at the sight of him. 

He was wearing a black dress shirt, the top three buttons undone, exposing some of his chest, tucked into his jeans. His silver chain necklace with his guitar pick was peeking out. He wore a black blazer which was a little fitted and you were wondering if he had borrowed it from Wayne. His black jeans were surprisingly not ripped, and he wore pointed toe boots. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at Eddie Van Halen or Eddie Munson. Either way, he looked so handsome. You smile at him in the mirror, and he smiles back, he walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle and you lean back into him. 

“You ready?” He whispers, kissing your hair. “You look beautiful.” 

“Are we supposed to look beautiful?” You chuckle softly and sigh. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

You turn to him, and he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his brown eyes kind as he stares into yours. “If you need a minute, you tell me. We will take a break, get some fresh air.” 

You nod, staring up at him, cupping his cheek. “What?” He asks you with a smile.

“You’re just…you’re something else, Eddie Munson.” 

He smiles. “You just bring out my good side, I’m a huge asshole. You know this.” 

You laugh, leaning up on your toes, kissing him softly. “Okay, let’s go.” You take his hand and the two of you walk out of his room, your stomach was in knots, your palms began to sweat, and you couldn’t swallow. This was it. This was the moment you dreaded for 5 days.

Your dad had driven with your Uncle Jimmy to the funeral home, you followed behind in your car with Eddie. When you pull into the parking lot, you notice the orange cones, and the directors standing by the doors. You both step out of the car and he takes his sunglasses off of his eyes.

“Lurch?” Eddie says out loud, looking at the tall man by the doors, you mutter a curse, covering his mouth with your hand, bringing his head to your shoulder and you cackle loudly. He looks up at you very confused and you pull your hand away.

“You have the loudest mouth, shut up. I’ll tell you later.” You whisper to him, holding in your laughter.  

“Yeah but…look at him!”

“Shut up, Eddie!” You laugh and you follow your father and uncle up the stone steps. Lurch nods at the two of you and you still suppress your laughter as you walk into the lobby. 

There’s a guest book to sign with prayer cards, the Irish Blessing was printed on the front with her name, birth and death date. Eddie takes them and puts them in his pocket, signing his name. You both follow your father and uncle’s tall forms into the viewing room, and you immediately stop breathing as you see the beautiful mahogany of her casket. There was a soft melody of piano music playing through the speakers. 

Your father walks towards her, and before you had a second to react, his legs are buckling. Eddie rushes to him with Jimmy on one side, cradling him so he doesn’t fall. Your hand goes to your mouth as you watch the scene unfold, you stood frozen, and the sound of your father’s cries sent daggers into your heart. You feel your feet move before the rest of your body and rush towards him, you rest your palm on his back and kneel in front of him. 

“I’ll go with you, Daddy. Hold on to me, okay?” He looks up at you, tears streaming down his face, and he nods. Eddie and Jimmy help him to his feet, and you link your arm in his. They stood behind, watching as you two walk slowly to her. More sobs escape your father as you stand in front of her, your eyes fill with tears and you turn your head away, resting it against father’s arm, squeezing your eyes shut. You could hear Jimmy sniffling behind you, you couldn’t look at him either.

“Oh, my girl.” He cries softly, kneeling on the prayer bench. As you finally open your eyes to look at your mother, you realize that you may have completely disassociated while doing her make up. She looked stunning, and you thought the whole time you were doing her make up, she looked dead, not asleep. But she really looked asleep. Your father meets your eyes and kisses the top of your hand. 

“She looks like her.” He says, smiling softly. “Thank you.” 

You nod, gently helping him up to move away from the casket. You sit your father down on one of the cushioned chairs and hand him a cup of water from the pitcher on the table. You sit next to him, holding his hand as you watch Jimmy kneels in front of your mother. His shoulders shook with sobs, and he gently smooths out her hair, he stands up from the bench, walking down the hallway to wipe his tears, pacing.

Eddie didn’t kneel, he stood there with his hands resting on his thighs. He stares at her, biting his bottom lip and you could see his eyes fill with tears. He goes to touch her hand but stops himself, a soft groan escapes him, and he shakes his head, turning away, pressing his palms to his eyes, walking away down the aisle of chairs. You feel your father nudge you to go to him and you stand up, walking towards him. His back is to you, his palms are still pressed against his eyes, and you place your hand on his lower back. He turns to you, so many tears fell from his eyes, and you pull him into you for a hug. He holds onto your waist tightly, quietly whimpering into your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was.” He sounded so pained; your heart broke.

“You loved her, that’s what that was.” You tell him softly and he lifts his head from your shoulder. You wipe his tears away from his cheek and he sighs. “If you want to go back, I’ll go with you.” 

He shakes his head and smiles at you. “No, it’s alright. There are a few things I need to say to her.” He kisses your lips gently and you watch him walk back towards your mother. 

He kneels and rests his chin on his hands as he looks at her, more tears fell from his eyes, and he didn’t seem to care. He knelt there for a few moments, and you watch as he snaps his necklace from his neck, placing it gently on her hands, the guitar pick resting against her ring finger. Your bottom lip trembles at the intimate moment, and he gently kisses the top of your mother’s head, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. You feel yourself falling more in love with him at that exact moment.

He walks towards your father, embracing him in a bear hug. Your father squeezes his shoulder, the two of them having a silent conversation and Eddie wipes his eyes, walking back towards you. He slinks his arm around your waist and pulls you to him. You sigh, glancing at the clock. More people would be showing up. 

The funeral home was full of people you either hadn’t seen in so many years or had never met in your life. A lot of them had wonderful things to say to about your mother and some had even brough pictures which you hadn’t seen before. A lot of them had traveled from Boston. You almost broke down when Hopper walked in, he hugged you close to his chest and patted your head. 

“Don’t forget to take a breather, kid, okay?” He says gently and you nod. 

You had stepped outside for a moment, placing your hand on your knees to breathe in deep. It was so overwhelming in there and so stuffy. You felt like you were suffocating; you didn’t even tell Eddie you went outside, but he had found you anyway. Gently rubbing your back as you try to settle your nerves, he whispers that Steve and Robin were there. Robin was already crying when she hugged you, she had a glass dish in her hands. 

“I forgot to give this back to your mom when she made that casserole for me. I’m sorry, I kept wanting to give it back, but I never thought…I didn’t…” She was sputtering and you gently place your hand over hers.

“Keep it.” You smile at her, and she nods, Steve leads her inside and Eddie looks you over. 

“It’s almost over.” He tells you gently.

“I know.” You sigh. “I know.”

Your father peeks his head out the doorway. “Honey? It’s time for the eulogy.” 

You stop breathing, you had forgotten. 

Eddie sees you tense and keeps a watchful eye on you as you walk silently back into the funeral home. There was a small podium in front of her casket, and you look up at Eddie with pleading eyes, he walks with you to the front, keeping a short distance between you two as you stood there, looking at all the solemn faces of your mother’s loved ones.

“Um, thank you all for being here…” Your voice shakes. “I didn’t write anything or have anything prepared.” You inhale deeply, looking behind you at your mother’s form. You stare at her face; your bottom lip quivers and you inhale a shaky breath. You turn back towards them. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this…I’m sorry.” 

Eddie squeezes your hand as you go towards him, you see him stare at your mother and he holds your face in his hands, looking in your eyes, asking you a silent question. You nod and he pulls away from you. Everyone’s eyes fix on him, and you lean your shoulder against your father. 

Eddie lets out a breath and begins to speak. “Hi, some of you know me, some of you don’t. My name is Eddie, Eddie Munson. I have known this family for ten years, and I guess, I guess I have a lot to say about this special woman.” He looks over at you and smiles. “I never knew what it felt like to have a mother, I mean, if I did, I was really little, and those memories have completely faded. That all changed when I met this woman. Without questions, without judgement, she took me in as her own. It took me some time to get used to, I was used to being loved by the ones who cared about me, but when it was that motherly love, I had no idea how to deal with it. There were times I think I tried to push her away, especially when I got in trouble, but she forced her way through my walls and held on tight and I didn’t…” His voice shakes, tears pool in his eyes. “I didn’t let go. I didn’t want to. She was a force to be reckon with, right Hop?” 

“She terrified me.” Hopper says from his seat, and everyone laughs. 

Eddie chuckles, glancing over at you. “She protected her own like a lioness. Her beautiful daughter is living proof of the pure heart and soul of that woman. It would take hours for me to express how grateful I am for this family, for her as mother I always needed. I loved her, and it hurts that I can’t tell her that.” He looks behind him at her face, a tear falls freely from his eye. “But for now, I can tell you all what you already know. You will never find another one like her, a woman that embraces a freak like me into her arms, a woman that cooks a meal for an entire army. A woman who sends some of the toughest dudes running just by being in her line of sight. A woman who loved and loved hard. She wouldn’t want us sad, let’s be real she’s probably up there pointing and laughing at us, calling us babies.” That got another laugh out of them. “That’s what she wants us to do. Love. Love hard, tell your loved ones you love them. Follow her example and honor her everyday if you can.” 

Tears are streaming down everyone’s faces, especially you. You embrace Eddie in a tight embrace, your voice muffled in his chest, and you tell him your thanks over and over. 

Once everyone started to file out, you overhear your father talking to your uncle in the lobby. 

“I can’t do it; I physically cannot bring myself to do it. She was my baby sister, the thought of her…”

“It’s okay, Jim. It’s okay. We can figure something out.” Your father tells him gently. 

You walk closer to them. “What’s going on?”  

“We have a change of plans for her ashes. It’s not fair to put it all on Jimmy. We can brainstorm and figure out a better plan.” 

“Well, I can do it.” 

Your father looks at you. “Really? You’d go to Boston?”

“Yeah, you know how much I loved it there. It would be nice to go back. I have enough money saved to get a hotel room for a few days.” 

“Don’t worry about the money, I’ll take care of the hotel. I’d feel better if someone went with you.” 

Eddie walks into the room, his eyes still a little puffy and he gently grips your waist. 

“Wanna go to Boston?” You ask him. 

“Right now?” He asks you, cocking his eyebrows. 

“No, dumbass. In a few days. With my mom.” You stifle a laugh at his face which held pure confusion. “Her ashes?” 

“Oh! Oh yeah, yeah I’ll go. Road trip?” 

You nod and look up at your dad who smiles tightly, and you chuckle at his expression. “My daughter and Eddie Munson in a hotel room. Alone. Together. For a few days. Pretty sure God has it out for me.” 

He claps Eddie on the shoulder, heading back into the viewing room to say his final goodbyes to his wife. Jimmy hugs you tightly, thanking you for doing something he couldn’t and had left the funeral home, he had already said goodbye to your mother. 

You walk back into the room and your father gives you a minute alone. Eddie stands off to the side watching you. You kneel, gently smoothing out her hair, caressing her cheek gently.

“You know you were right about everything.” You tell her quietly, glancing over your shoulder at Eddie. “About me and Eddie. You always had that sixth sense about you.” You place your hands over hers and smile. 

“I’m gonna marry him one day. I’m gonna have his babies and we’ll have a cute little house with a dog. But you already knew that.” 

You wipe a tear away and lean forward, kissing her cheek softly. “I’ll see you in Boston, mama.” 

[lionlena]

Dancing With Your Ghost (JavierPeñaxghost!reader) Part VII

Summary: You are a ghost (sort of) and you don’t  remember what  happened to you. You only know your name and you feel  that something  bad has happened to you. The only person who sees you  and hears you is  Javier, so you don’t leave him because you believe  he’ll help you. That he will solve the mystery of what happened to you.

Warnigs:  the  reader is a ghost, mentions of death, angst,descriptions of severe  wounds, blood, violence, attempted rape… And also sadness, anxiety,  little smut but later

A/N: Title inspired by this song

Part VII

After a week in the hospital, Javier had enough and decided to leave the hospital of his own accord. He couldn't just lie idle in bed waiting for you to show up. He wanted to start looking for you. He was still weak and limping from the pain in his hip, but he didn't care. You were his priority.

The day before, he had asked Daniel to bring him clothes from home, a badge, and a gun, and to park his car in the hospital parking lot. He accepted a bag of strong painkillers from the doctor and ignored the advice to rest a lot. He didn't have time for that.

He got into the car, hissing in pain as he tried to find a comfortable position. He knew the ride would be a nightmare, but he couldn't ask anyone for help. How would he explain that he had to stop in different streets and look around for a ghost? He was about to start the car when he saw the map lying on the dashboard and his first instinct was to tear it up, crumple it, tear it to pieces, and then he came to his senses. He quickly unfolded the map, grabbed a pen, and marked the center of the circle.

"Fuck me!" quickly got out of the car and went back to the hospital.

He walked over to the ward nurse, hoping for luck, and showed his badge: "DEA agent, I'm looking for someone. Her name is Y/N."

The woman looked at him carefully. "Anything more?"

Javier described your appearance, and when he had finished, the nurse replied, "I think I know who it might be. Please follow me."

His heart was beating like crazy, and he was almost out of pain. The air escaped from his lungs as he entered a small room with a single bed. He stood completely stunned, staring at your face. He found you! He finally found you... Or rather, your body.

"You were looking for her?"

The nurse's question barely reached him. All he could do was nod.

"So, I don't think she's going to help you with your investigation. She's been like this for over two months now. It's a kind of coma, but the doctors don't know exactly what's wrong with her. She breathes on her own, and her pupils react to light, but otherwise, she won't wake up. "

Javier took a hesitant step forward and said, "It's not an investigation... I know her. She's my friend. I've been looking for her."

The woman noticed how broken he was and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He nodded and walked over to you, gently stroking your hand. Without taking his eyes off your face, he asked, "What happened?"

"Oh, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a police chase after some thug. One of the cars tried to avoid hitting the police car and swerved onto the sidewalk, and this poor thing was just there. The car didn't hit her very hard, but enough that she hit her head on the ground and lost consciousness. Rescuers were unable to wake her up."

Javier's heart fell to his feet. It was his fault. It's all because of him. He wanted the earth to swallow him up.

"Can... Can I sit with her?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"Of course. It will do her good. The voice of loved ones always works well. Unfortunately, she has no one and her boyfriend..."

Javier snapped his head up and looked at the nurse. "Her boyfriend? What about him?"

"He's been here maybe twice and found it too hard for him," she snorted.

He felt furious with your boyfriend. He didn't know him, but he already hated him. But he hated himself even more. He ran his hand over your cheek and whispered, "I'm sorry."

The nurse pulled up a chair for him and sympathetically said, "I'll leave you. You can stay here as long as you like."

Javier dropped into a chair and grabbed your hand, placing a gentle kiss on your skin. He was finally able to touch you, his wish came true, but it was a nightmare. He once heard a saying that "when the gods want to punish you, they make your dreams come true". Now he understood it completely.

His dream came true and it was torture. He didn't know how to wake you up. He didn't know if your ghost had returned to your body. He felt he should be looking for your spirit, but at the same time, he was terrified of leaving your body. He buried his face in your hand. "Y/N, baby. What should I do?"

Javier lost track of time. He didn't know how long he sat with you. An hour, two, maybe three. He just couldn't take his eyes off you. He watched your every breath and felt the panic that each of those breaths would be your last. Finally, he decided he had to do something. He already had your body, he needed to find the ghost. He squeezed your hand tightly and said, "Y/N, I'll come back to you, I promise."

Leaving the hospital was harder than he thought. Each step that took him away from you seemed harder to take. By the time he got to the car, his hip hurt so much that he swallowed two painkillers and lit a cigarette. He rubbed his nose with his thumb and took a deep breath muttering, "Get a grip."

He had to find your ghost, so the first place he went was of course your "X" starting point. Unfortunately, he didn't find you there, so he went back to his apartment. He looked in every room calling for you but without success. He was so desperate that he even went to the place where he almost died. But, he didn't find you there either. He finally decided to go to the embassy and check out his office. He didn't find you.

And just as he feared, his appearance at work had consequences. As soon as Chris saw him, he immediately asked: "Boss, are you back? We have new information."

He sighed and nodded his head. He couldn't say he was there just because he was looking for a ghost.

And so for the next three days, Javier Peña was like a ghost himself. He moved between the embassy and the hospital. He only came to his apartment to take a quick shower and put on fresh clothes. He barely slept and was still taking too many painkillers.

Sometimes he just dozed with his head resting on your bed. He was so determined to spend every free moment with you that even the nurses gave up trying to chase him away and let him stay the night.

Javier was just sitting by your bed holding your hand. When his phone rang, he sighed heavily and picked it up muttering "Peña."

"Boss, we need you." Chris's voice came from the other end.

"I'll be there in half an hour," he replied and ended the call.

He stood up reluctantly, still holding your hand. He leaned over and kissed your hand. Then he ran his fingers lightly over your cheek and whispered, "Don't go anywhere without me, okay? I'll find a way to wake you up, I promise."

Javier had to do his best not to think about you while he was working. Fortunately, even when he did, his coworkers thought it was still the result of his wounds and did not ask him about it.

As he drove to the hospital in the late afternoon, he began to think about his job. Has he lost his motivation? NO. He wanted to catch all the godfathers of the Cali Cartel. Yes, he still wanted to, but at the same time, he felt it would be easier to find the tooth fairy.

Suddenly one thought hit him. Fairy! Spells, magic... Why hadn't he thought of that before. He abruptly changed direction and hit the accelerator?

Curandera appeared in front of him after he knocked furiously on the door..

"Agent Peña?"

"You have to help me. I found her. She's in a coma in the hospital, but... I don't know where her ghost is."

The woman frowned. "I don't understand. You said she was with you all the time."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. "Something happened..." he mumbled. "She entered the body of the man who tried to kill me."

"I told you that..."

"I know!" he growled. "But she did it to save me. When I woke up in the hospital, she wasn't there, but... I found her, she's still alive."

Silvaria began to shake her head. "Maybe you're the only reason she's still alive."

"What do you mean?"

"She sacrificed herself for you, she didn't do it for fun or profit. And she's bound to you."

Javier took a step toward her. "Okay, but can this somehow help bring her ghost back?"

"Your presence will certainly help, but..." She stopped and looked at him concerned. "You must know that bringing a ghost by force has consequences."

He felt his whole body tense. "What?"

"Maybe she won't remember anything. She won't remember that she was a ghost, that she met you, and... She won't remember how she felt about you."

Javier snorted. "She felt nothing for me."

"Really?" She eyed him. "The fact that you're standing here alive in front of me says otherwise."

He wiggled his fingers restlessly and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It'll be better this way. She doesn't need to remember what an asshole I was. It'll be better for her."

The woman sighed and shook her head resignedly. "I'll prepare everything and we can do it today."

Despite Javier's concerns, it turned out that Silvaria entered the hospital without any problems. The nurses were not at all surprised to see her, and the woman explained to him that the relatives of the sick often called her. But, when they entered your room, Javier closed the blinds and put a chair under the door, for sure that nobody disturb them. He watched carefully as the woman drew symbols around the bed with chalk.

"I need a strand of your hair," she said.

Javier shrugged. "Take all you want. Just help her."

She went to him with the scissors and cut one of the curls at the back of her head. She tossed a strand of hair into a small linen bag and placed it on your chest. Then she grabbed your left hand.

"Stand to her right and take her hand with one hand and mine with the other."

He sighed heavily and muttered, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

She gave him a reproachful look. "You used to not believe in ghosts, and now you're begging me to bring one, so..."

"Okay," he groaned and did, as she told him.

"Close your eyes and say her name in your mind."

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his task. At the same time, Silvaria spoke some words, but he did not recognize a single one, so he stopped listening to her. He kept repeating in his mind, "Y/N. Y/N come back."

Just when he started to think it was all stupid and pointless, it happened. Suddenly a current kicked him and he jumped backward. He opened his eyes and saw that Silvaria had also released your hand and was standing next to the bed, panting heavily.

"It worked?" He asked.

"She was far in the void, but..."

They heard your moan and they both looked at you.

You felt like you were trying to get out of the tar. Your body felt numb. You struggled to open your eyes. It was so hard but you finally did it. Memories slowly came back to you. The sound of sirens, the scream of people, and the impact... Blood? Your hands are covered in blood. NO.

"Where am I..." your voice was hoarse.

"You are in the hospital" you heard a male voice. "You had an accident and you were in a coma."

You looked at him and blinked your eyes in surprise. His face seemed familiar, but you didn't know how you knew him.

"Are you a doctor?" you asked in a tired voice.

He shook his head and backed away quickly, saying, "I'll call the nurses."

The woman who stayed with you patted your hand and said, "Calm down, little birdie, everything will be fine."

You nodded your head, but you felt a strange sadness and fear.

*

Javier walked quickly down the corridor. He had to leave the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to smoke, find a bar and drink something strong.

"Agent Peña!"

He stopped and looked annoyed at Silvaria.

"What?"

"Tell her the truth. I will help you and confirm your words."

Javier laughed dryly. " Oh, really? I'm supposed to tell her that It was my fault that, she was a ghost, because I let chase for thug through the crowded streets of Colombia. I'm supposed to tell her how I hurt her. No." He shook his head. "The truth is, she's better off without me. She has a chance at happiness now. I'm not going to take that away from her."

The woman grabbed his hand and he looked at her surprised. "Didn't you ever wonder why only you saw her? Why was she connected to you? Maybe it wasn't because of the accident, but something much deeper. A soul's connection that even death could not part."

Javier pulled away sharply, pulling his hand out of her grip. "Soulmates?" The woman nodded. "Please, leave these fairy tales for naive customers. We're done."

He turned and heard Silvaria say, "You think you're saving her, but you're hurting her... and yourself!"

*

You felt dizzy and lost. Your boyfriend Michael wasn't there, but you felt he wasn't the one you missing. It was a strange feeling, but when you closed your eyes you saw warm brown eyes. The rest of the face was blurry, but those eyes. You missed someone, but you didn't know who.

*

You never got the chance to know me

Packed it up and crossed the state

You left behind more than memories

Now when I sleep I'm only dreaming of your face

You never got the chance to hold me

I learned to love your selfish way

I still believe in you, and in this burning room

I'll suffer through the pain

Oh no, got me low, how you gonna leave like that?

Oh no, got me low, gone and I want you back

Oh no, down so low, feeling like I'm under attack

Oh no, where did you go? You're gone and I want you

SYML - Leave Like That (feat. Jenn Champion)

A/N: Well, I warned you all that before there's a happy ending, we'll suffer... Poor Javier thinks he's not good enough for the reader 💔 😢

Part VI

Part VIII

Taglist: @aestheticangel612​​ @kittenlittle24​​ @hxpburn76 @creedslove​​ @ranahx​​ @yyiikes​​ @fuglyputa24​​

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes. 

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).  

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained. 

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.' 

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight." 

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession. 

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid. 

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight. 

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya. 

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments. 

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes." 

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?" 

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!" 

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her. 

"You're right: let me make it up to you." 

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?" 

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun." 

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you." 

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day. 

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess." 

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid." 

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?" 

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk. 

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know. 

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming. 

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish. 

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart. 

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?" 

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest. 

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely. 

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings." 

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid." 

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors." 

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you." 

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you." 

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system. 

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld. 

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick. 

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay." 

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit." 

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away." 

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-" 

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought. 

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism." 

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing. 

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep. 

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight… 

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up." 

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together. 

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!" 

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured. 

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch. 

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them. 

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [TBB MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

[starlocked01]

Your Average Petty Sinner

AO3 link (pending)

Summary- Patton goes through an Emo phase and decides to hang out with the most notorious kids at school, going so far as to try to date their leader.

Relationships- Janus&Patton (Moceit), Remus/Virgil (Dukexiety)

Word Count- 5.4k

Content Warnings- swearing, mild description of injury, mild sexual innuendos

This is my @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift for @lily-janus 💛💙 I really hope you like it! Also a shout out to @infinitesimal-dna for beta reading and putting up with my shenanigans.

“I just don't get it!” Patton frantically paced the small patch of faded pale blue carpet that was visible in his cluttered room, “I literally caught them with cigarettes and lighters in the bathroom- how did they weasel out of detention this time?”

Roman barely looked up from the script in his hand as he lounged on Patton’s bed, “I don't know. Remus didn't say when Mom picked us up. They weren't going to hurt anyone but themselves.”

“Lighters start fires- they could have caused a fire alarm and some freshman could have been trampled in the ensuing panic while the science wing burned down-” Patton whipped back to face Roman who remained unperturbed. 

“And none of that happened. You saved the day, Padre. Why can't you just be happy about that?”

“Because they didn't get in trouble!” Patton crossed his arms tight over his chest and resumed his pacing, “why turn in the bad kids if they're just going to be let go?”

“Sounds like you want to put my brother in jail,” Roman snickered and briefly looked up, “I don't know why. Why do you snitch on them?” Roman countered

Patton bit down hard on his lip before taking a measured breath, “I am not snitching. They just keep breaking the rules in front of me.”

“I think you just want Janus to notice you. Trust me, he does, sweetie. Remus won't stop complaining about how much the goodie two shoes need to fu- leave them alone,” Roman replies, remembering too late the household ban on swears.

“SHH! Don’t let Mom hear you.” Patton whispered tersely, “you’re wrong. I don’t care what any of them think about me– especially not Janus.”

Roman snorted, “Yeah, right. That’s why you’re constantly tattling on him. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that when a boy’s mean to you that means he likes you?”

Patton stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Roman, “That’s… completely untrue.”

Roman rolled his eyes, flipping a page lazily, “Just keep telling yourself that, Padre. I bet if you just asked he’d go out with you.”

“I’m not gay and I don’t want to go out with him,” Patton countered, “will you please just be quiet? My mom would kick you out in two seconds for being a quote ‘bad influence’ if she heard you right now.”

“Mmm fine. Alright. I won’t talk about your obvious crush on Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

“I am not- Why don’t you understand that not everyone has to like guys?” 

Roman sat up, “I’m not saying everyone. I just know you, Patt. You don’t like girls. You’ve turned down like twenty of them since homecoming last year. So if you don’t like girls, that just leaves guys. I know you don’t feel comfortable bringing a bf home because of the witch, but you’ve at least got to let yourself consider the possibility.”

“Maybe I just haven’t met the right girl,” Patton replied, not sounding as convincing as he should have to shut down the conversation.

Roman chuckled, “sure. Because she’s actually a boy named Janus and you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Roman!”

“Just ask him!”

“He hates me. And I don’t like him.”

“You absolutely fucking do!”

“Roman!” Patton hissed, flinching as he could hear his mother’s footsteps coming down the hallway. “Now you’ve done it-” he muttered as the bedroom door clicked and swung open.

“Patton, sweetie. What’s our rule for having friends over?” his mother asked from the door, a falsely sweet and disarming voice cutting through the tension of the argument.

Patton turned, “they need to follow house rules and not distract from school work…”

“That’s right. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I heard Mr. Prince here swearing. That is no way to speak to others, is it?” 

“No, ma’am,” Patton replied, head hung in defeat. 

She turned towards Roman, “Exactly. I’m sorry dear, but you need to leave and reevaluate your vocabulary and manners if you want to spend time with my son.”

“Sorry, Patt,” Roman murmured as he grabbed his backpack and walked past to leave, “tomorrow. Just do it.” 

Patton sighed with exasperation, “Please, Mom, let him stay? He didn’t mean to-”

“You know the rules, Patton. I think it’s about time you got started on your homework,” she brushed him off, escorting Roman out to the front door. 

Patton waited until he heard the front door shutting before closing his bedroom door to get started on his work, trying to tune out his racing thoughts about school. 

___ ___ ___

 Janus slumped against the lockers, ignoring the dirty look from Susan next to him when he accidentally shut hers for her. It wasn’t his fault her locker was so close to Virgil’s. He gripped the head of his cane to keep it from sliding into the throng of students that would trample and crack it without a second thought. The polished wooden cane had cost a fortune, stained black with a yellow snake carved around the shaft up to the handle. He'd refused to adopt a medical-looking metal bully magnet and protected his aide fiercely. Janus silently watched Virgil picking out text books for the next class.

“What a bitch, right?” he asked once Virgil had noticed him. 

Virgil nodded sagely, “Yeah. Who’re we talking about this time?”

Janus smirked, “Mrs. Hansen, of course. It’s like she doesn’t even care that I don’t give a fuck about Physics.”

“She held you after class again? That bitch!” Virgil gaped, closing his locker, “that is so messed up. You should tell the VP that she’s not respecting your accommodations, right?”

“Like he ever cared the twenty thousand other times someone tried to make life harder,” Janus scoffed, glancing at the disturbance coming down the hallway and opting not to warn Virgil.

With all the subtlety of a tornado, Janus watched as Remus pinned Virgil to the lockers, dropping his backpack at Janus’ feet in his hurry to get hands on the boy. Virgil grunted in surprise, pushing back against the attack until he recognized the lips pressed harshly into his neck.

“Rem-! Oh my god!” Virgil laughed breathlessly, “I told you not at school, motherfucker!”

Remus looked up with a devious grin, “and? Your mother said she loved it.”

“Gross,” Virgil chuckled and pulled his boyfriend into a tight hug, “I missed you.”

Janus rolled his eyes, pushing the discarded backpack away with the tip of his cane, “It’s been all of an hour since you two last molested each other in front of the entire school.”

“Jealous, Jannie?”

“Utterly green with envy,” Janus sighed, noticing the crowd in the hall thinning rapidly, “are you done playing tongue hockey yet?”

“Never,” Remus laughed and turned back to Virgil, cutting off his protests with a filthy kiss.

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t figured out how to make gay love babies yet,” Janus replied, carefully readjusting his treasured suede gloves. The crowds of students dissipated and doors shut as the bell for the next period rang through the now empty halls.

Janus nudged the pair, “Biology will have to wait. Let's get going.”

“Oh come on!” Remus whined, “just tell Mr. Sawan you got held back and we're helping you-”

“It's not a lie for once,” Virgil added, leaning down to grab Remus' bag.

“And they say I'm the bad influence,” Janus scoffed, grabbing his cane to start towards class. Virgil and Remus reluctantly followed, careful to give him space to walk. 

Janus wasn't actually eager to get to class. Everyone always stared when he walked in late, despite arriving late by necessity every day. The scrutiny felt absolutely miserable. 

As they neared the stairs down to the mathematics wing, Janus paused to let the couple go first. The last thing he wanted was to slip all the way down into a concussion.

“Hey!” A voice called loudly from down the hall, “aren't you supposed to be in class?”

Janus glanced over and swore quietly at the sight of the world's most annoying goody two shoes coming towards them.

“Patton. Where do you think we're going?” He asked in a lazy drawl.

“Yeah, calm your tits,” Remus added less than helpfully.

Patton frowned, glancing down at his chest for a brief moment, “I don't have- the bell rang five minutes ago. You're supposed to be in class. I bet you're out here trying to smoke and ditch class.”

“How? You stole my lighter yesterday,” Virgil snarked back, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“It’s against school policy-” Patton started.

“What's against policy is a student trying to police other students. I literally cannot walk the halls when everyone else is running around,” Janus spoke up, standing up straighter. “We'd have made it by now if you hadn't interrupted us.”

“You liar. You're just messing around to get out of class,” Patton accused, stepping closer as if to intimidate Janus.

He laughed, “we have this discussion once a week! If I didn't know better, I would think you're going out of your way to flirt with me.”

An inscrutable look passed over Patton’s face, freckles melting into a soft flustered blush. “I am not!” Patton whispered hoarsely.

“Then we'll just be on our way,” Janus sneered, starting down the first step, cane first.

“Hey!” Patton gasped, reaching for Janus’s shoulder. Janus flinched at the unexpected touch, shifting to toss Patton as far from him as possible.

Unfortunately, this sent the boy careening down the flight of stairs.

“Shit!” Janus exclaimed,  watching in horror and slight mesmerism as Patton came to a halt on the first landing.

“You killed him!” Remus cackled with glee at the possibility.

“Jan- what the fuck?” Virgil asked, not sure if he should move to help Patton or not.

Janus glanced down the hall, and seeing no one, made his decision.

“Virgil, help me get him to the nurse.” he instructed. “Remus, get to class and tell them Virgil and I cannot make it. Give as little context as possible, got it?”

Remus nodded and hurried to the class.

Janus hurried down the steps as fast as he could manage to the place Patton lay on the stairs.

“Wh- why?” Patton murmured, cradling his shoulder, “I- I wasn't-”

“Next time don't touch people without permission,” Janus snapped, reaching to pick  Patton up, “can you walk?”

“I- I think so?” Patton winced, trying to sit up with both of the others pulling him up, “d-don't pull my arm, please.”

Janus nodded, “right, let's go, before you die or something.”

“Good going, Jan,” Virgil groaned as Patton leaned more heavily against him.

“Shut it, Vi. I didn't do anything.”

The walk down the rest of the stairs and to the nurse's office felt impossibly long and arduous, as Patton moved slower than even Janus. And he moaned in pain at each jostle to his arm.

“You're going to be okay,” Virgil chewed at his cheek, “it wasn't that bad of a fall.”

“I- I hope so,” Patton murmured, “why are the bad kids helping me?”

Janus rolled his eyes, “who said we're bad?”

“I- you always get in trouble,” Patton tried to explain.

“Yeah. Because you're always trying to get us in trouble,” Virgil scoffed.

“I don't expect you to understand, Patton,” Janus stopped as they reached the nurse’s office, “ but sometimes people just don't think like you.”

Patton nodded then tried to walk into the office, “thanks, I guess.”

Janus rolled his eyes, turning to head back to class, only to be confronted with the imposing figure of the school vice principal.

“What's this, then?”

“Oh- sir, I can explain,” Janus offered hastily.

“You will,” the man nodded, pointing towards his office, “If you please, Mr. Shephard.”

Virgil fiddled with his sleeves, “It was completely an accident. We were just helping Patton.”

“He fell down the stairs after slipping on a spilled water bottle,” Janus protested, already tired of walking, “I think he hit his head so we didn't want to leave him alone before he could get over here.”

“I see,” the man eyed the two, “is that so?”

“Yes. That's what happened.” Janus nodded emphatically. He watched the disciplinarian's face to see if he bought the story.

“Get to your class,” the vice principal barked, and the two wasted no time disappearing down the hallway.

___ ___ ___

Patton stirred and sat gingerly up in bed. A needle of pain shot through his shoulder at the weight pressed on it. 

“Oh- f-”

“Patton!” His mother stood at the door to his room with a sour look on her face.

“I was going to say ‘fudge’,” Patton gritted his teeth.

“Honestly, when did I raise such a delinquent?” She shook her head and barged her way in, “bullying other students and now swearing? Certainly nothing I taught you.”

“Mom!”

“I won't hear it. Luckily, some of your classmates collected your homework assignments for you. Behave yourself with them,” she scolded.

“I'm not a bully,” Patton muttered, gazing up at the ceiling as though the stucco could offer him the strength to endure her accusations.

“For the record, no one said you were but her. I don’t know why she thinks that,” Patton looked back to the door sharply, finding his mother replaced with Virgil standing slouched against the frame, a book bag slung over one shoulder. “Hey- I hope it's okay I- let's not worry about how I knew your address. How… are.. you?”

“I've been better. The doctor poked and prodded me a lot yesterday.” 

“Yikes…”

Patton nods, “I’ll be back in school by Monday. Unless I go completely loopy in the head. But I think the sprain in my shoulder is worse. Is Janus okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. He was tired from all the running around but like.. I don’t think he’s mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Virgil glanced back to the door before leaning closer to ask, “is she always like that?”

Patton nodded, “yeah… that’s my mom for you.”

Virgil swung his bag onto the bed, “alright, well, I’ve got your homework for the classes you missed.. And I thought you might like some music to pass the time? It’s the kind I listen to when I get really upset,” Virgil explained with a pointed look as he pulled a disk in a clear cover out of the bag with the school books, “just.. Let me know what you think if you do. I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“It’s not your fault, Virge-” Patton shook his head and then winced, “thank you, though.”

“No worries. I- uh.. Look forward to seeing you..? Yeah. Get better soon.”

Patton watched as Virgil exited his bedroom, confused why he of any of the kids at school brought him make up work. He examined the CD, turning it to read the sharpie writing, a list of songs with artists listed in incomprehensible initials. He turned the case over, noticing a small piece of paper tucked under the CD inside the case. Intrigued, he pried the case open and popped the CD out, laying it on the blanket. He retrieved the small folded paper from his lap, carefully picking it apart. 

I didn’t push you down the stairs. I also did not try to help you after you tripped. If you tell anyone I did, I won’t hesitate to make you regret it. -J

Patton frowned, confused by the note. He tossed it aside and pulled out his portable CD player to listen to the mixtape without his mom listening in. He laid back, letting the beats and melodies wash over him. As he listened, an idea started to form, one of which he was barely conscious.

___ ___ ___

“Are you insane?” Roman stared far more openly than other students in the hall. Patton shrugged and pushed past his friend to his locker.

“I’m just trying something new,” Patton replied, hanging his backpack up and picking out books for the first class. He tried very hard to not express frustration when the bookbag caught on the spikes sticking out of one of his many new bracelets. 

“You look ridiculous. You hate black! What is going on?” 

“I can wear whatever I want, Ro. You sound like my mother right now.” 

That shut Roman’s protests up quickly. Patton hummed to himself, reaching into the bag to pull out a brand new makeup pallet made of browns and blacks, picking the darkest shade to dab onto his eyelids.

“How hard did you hit your head?” Roman asked, staring in even more shock and disbelief. 

“My head is fine, Roman. I told you I’m trying something new,” Patton explained.

“Oh Hey! When did you get hot, Pat-Pat?” Remus yelled, dragging Virgil behind him from down the hall.

“Woah- Patton, are you okay?” Virgil asked as they reached him and Roman at the lockers. 

“Looks like Jannie knocked some sense into him. Hot damn!” Remus leered, earning a smack on the shoulder from Virgil and Roman. 

“Guys, I am fine. I promise. I wanted to see how my mom would take it,” Patton offers, not so subtly searching the halls.

“Right. Suuuuuuure,” Remus giggled, “just remember that Virgie is mine,” he snaps playfully, “I don’t share and I certainly don’t do threesomes.” Remus winked, sending a shiver of disgust running down Patton’s spine. “Congrats, baby emo.”

“If you need to talk or something,” Virgil managed to offer before getting swept away by Remus.

Roman sighed, “Seriously, do you want to talk?”

“I’ll be fine, Ro. I’m still me. I just... I don’t know. It felt right this morning,” Patton offers as explanation.

“Well, you know where to find me. And if this is some ploy to get Janus to like you- it won’t work-” 

“I don’t care if he likes me,” Patton protests, “this isn’t about him.”

“It’s not?” Janus asked in a smooth voice, standing behind Patton as if he appeared there from thin air.

“Janus!” Patton whipped around, “how- when did you- um, hi.” he stammered.

Roman laughed and clapped Patton on the shoulder, “good luck, Romeo. See you at lunch.” He walked away still laughing as Patton blushed and tried to shake the teasing off.

Janus watched curiously. He certainly would never have predicted that Patton would show up in an all black pretend-emo costume. Amazing really how people could still surprise him. 

“I promise that Roman doesn’t know what he’s talking about-” Patton tried to recover his composure.

“He never does. Poor Remus got all the interesting and useful brains,” Janus sighed, examining his gloved hand nonchalantly. “Even if this were some ploy for my attention, I wouldn’t be interested just because you changed clothes and painted your nails.”

“That implies you would be interested in different circumstances,” Patton pointed out.

“Would I? I never said that. You understood my message, right?” Janus asked, changing topics quickly.

Patton nodded, “I- yes, I understood. You didn’t have to threaten me. Everyone thinks I broke my head and wouldn’t believe me saying either thing.” 

“Correct. No use spreading rumors,” Janus smirked.

“Janus?” 

“What?” 

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Patton asked quietly.

Janus took a moment to think over the question, “Why are you asking me?”

“Because I think you’re probably the person I’ve hurt the most.”

Janus laughed, “Oh please. Like you could hurt me. Since when do you care about my opinions?”

“I don’t know- I’m really trying something new here, Janus.” Patton worried his lip between his teeth. 

“I see. I notice,” Janus nodded and turned to head towards class.

“Janus? Do I… seem like I have a crush on you?”

Janus stopped in his tracks, turning back slowly, “Do you have one?”

Patton shrugged his one good shoulder, “Roman says I must have one. I’m not sure. How do I figure it out?”

Janus studied the black clad teen he would have sworn had it out for him just two days ago. Who was he to answer this kind of question? And why wouldn’t he just ask Roman, the prince of failed relationships?

“I don’t know. Go on a date with me?” Janus was just as surprised at the words leaving his lips as Patton looked hearing them.

“Wait- really?”

“Yes. We can go out tonight. No need to make it formal. Just black, not black tie.” Janus nodded. It surprised him just how calm and collected he felt, proposing a romantic time together. 

Patton hummed, “um.. I assume Virgil… gave you my address,” he replied diplomatically, “would you be able to pick me up.”

“Yes. 9 o’clock?”

Patton nodded, “yeah, that works. I’ll see you then?”

Janus smiled just a bit mischievously, “yes, you will. Good luck in school today. Everyone is going to notice.”

“Notice what?” Patton asked.

“This.” Janus smirked and leaned forward, planting a lipstick stained kiss on Patton’s cheek, turning to leave just as the first bell rang out. 

Patton stood frozen like a deer, slowing reaching up to touch his cheek, “oh, shit-”

___ ___ ___

“Uh, Jannie?”

“Yes, Remus?”

“Where the fuck are we going?” Remus asked, hanging on the back of Janus’ seat.

Janus inhaled slowly, “We’re picking up my date for tonight.”

“Since when do you date?” Virgil asked, lounging in the back seat and scrolling on his phone.

“Since this morning,” Janus answered, “You two just made it look so fun I had to give it a try.”

“Ooooooooh,” Remus absolutely beamed, “so who’s the lucky virgin?”

“Come on, Re. Don’t assume,” Virgil chided, trying to pull his boyfriend back to the back seat. “Wait- I recognize this street-”

“Just shut up,” Janus growled, “You’re the ones who wanted me to date. He’s harmless and might even like me.”

“So you’re trying to go out with the guy who made our lives hell for over a year?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not being some sort of saint, I’m just curious about what Patton’s going through.”

“I’ll cancel the wedding bells,” Remus cackled as they pulled up to the door. The headlights swept over the porch, revealing Patton sitting outside in the dark. He popped up, rushing over to the passenger side of the car.

“Hey Janus- and… Virgil and Remus? What?” Patton squinted at the couple in the back seat, “is this.. A double date?”

“Somewhat. Get in,” Janus commanded, ignoring the snickering from the back seat. 

Patton climbed in and sat down, confused but not about to back out now. Not when Roman would roast him for failing to go on the first date he’s ever been asked out on. Janus pulled out of the driveway and continued on in relative quiet.

“So… where are we going?” Patton asked, a little too bright for his dark exterior. 

“You’ll see,” Janus replied cryptically.

Patton nodded and fell silent, watching the road slip by as they drove along.

“Woof. The chemistry is just bubbling,” Remus snarked after a few minutes of quiet, sitting back to cuddle into Virgil.

Virgil laughed softly, “give them time. I’m sure it’s just first date awkwardness.” He wrapped his arms around Remus and held him close.

Janus turned down a residential street and flicked off the headlights, “Well, Patton, since you’re exploring new countercultures, I figured it would be a good idea to bring you along to a protest.”

“A protest? At night?” Patton asked, fear glinting in his eyes, “what kind of protest?”

“One against ableism in the education system,” Virgil grinned, grabbing cartons of eggs from the floor of the back seat.

“Yeah! We’re gonna show that bitch what it feels like!” Remus crowed, opening the door before Janus could put the car in park and banging impatiently on the trunk. Virgil piled out as well as Janus parked and grabbed the latch to open the trunk for them. 

“This… is illegal, isn’t it?” Patton worried, glancing around the street to see if they had been spotted yet.

“Very.” Janus nodded, “but, lucky us that the Virus have the dirty work covered. We’re just lookouts tonight. Mrs. Hansen has been violating my disability accommodations. That makes my life harder when I end up missing the beginning of class because of the crowds in the hallway. So we’re making her morning a bit harder.”

“Oh.. that’s why you three were in the hallway during class time the other day?” Patton asked, voice softening at the realization.

“Yes. Sometimes we wait until after the bell anyway but she still shouldn’t be holding me back like that,” Janus explained.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t realize that,” Patton offered quietly, wincing as Remus started chucking raw eggs at the car in the driveway.

“Relax, Patton. They’re just letting off steam. I swear they would have burned the school down by now if I didn’t try to aim them at productive activities,” Janus chuckled, glancing down the road for any observers.

“Right. So… this is a date… why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Patton turned in his seat to face Janus. 

Janus slowly turned his head, “what do you want to know?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before,” Patton laughed nervously, “maybe… when did you know that you’re gay?”

Janus snorted at that, “I still don’t know. You’re the first boy I’ve tried to date. You’d think hanging out around the twins would make that sort of question easy, right?”

“Right! Like, I’ve known Roman really well for years and he sure seems to know… some of what he wants. But I just don’t know how he understands what a crush is versus wanting to be friends.”

“Those two make it seem like you meet someone and suddenly they’re the only thought in your head ever,” Janus nodded to the couple who were busy laying out toilet paper strips in the shape of a penis on the hood of the car, “I’ve never understood it.” 

“Do you.. Feel that way about me?” Patton asks, “since you’re the one who asked me out.”

“Frankly, I find your change of aesthetic rather intriguing. And you seem willing to challenge some of your bullshit ideas right now, so why not?” Janus shrugs, “maybe I just want attention and don’t give a fuck about who you are. You can never know.”

Patton looked down towards his hands, folded neatly in his lap, “I think I’ve been jealous of you all.”

“How so? You seemed adamant about reporting us to the school like a narc for the past year,” Janus challenged.

“Because things like egging teacher’s houses and smoking in the hallways can cause problems for people! But, I do like how you all express yourselves.”

“Really?”

“Right. You just… get to be weird and stand out in classes. You get away with a disturbing amount of rule breaking. It seems really freeing,” Patton sighed softly, “Maybe I’m thinking about it wrong. I’ve just always felt terrified of disappointing people, and in just one day I’ve been able to disappoint almost everyone.”

“So, you’re just dressing emo to make people upset, not to express yourself?”

“I mean- maybe partially?” Patton shrugged, “I never knew you all were this criminal-”

“Patton-”

“And… I think it’s maybe hot that you all stand up for yourselves despite what people think of you?” Patton says shyly, more of a question than an opinion.

“I didn’t bring you along to impress you with like that-”

“No?”

“I thought giving Virgil and Remus a target would give us some time alone,” Janus explains.

“Time  alone to do what?” Panton leaned a bit closer.

“What we’re doing now, talking.”

“That’s all you wanted to do with me?” Patton asked, head tilted a bit.

“Did you want to kiss me?” 

“Patton-”

Patton leaned in even closer until the backdoor slammed open, sending him scrambling back to his seat, blushing bright red.

“Drive- Neighbor might be calling the cops.” Remus replied, out of breath.

Virgil nodded and Janus jumped into action to get away from the crime scene. 

“Looked like a productive date,” Remus teased as Janus slowed back down to avoid suspicion.

“Wow what a rush!” Patton exclaimed. 

“Adrenaline wasn’t the point,” Janus reminded him, “Are you two ready to head home?”

“Yeah, Remus’ please,” Virgil nods.

Remus spent the car ride back to his place giving the lookouts a play by play of the night, with Virgil interjecting with certain facts and figures.. Janus soon dropped the pair off and the silence settled between him and Patton. 

“I just… you guys get away with bad behavior all the time. I wish I could do that the same as you,” Patton spoke up eventually.

Janus sighed and pulled the car over again, this time near a park, “Do you even care about why we do that stupid shit?”

“Well, tonight was about getting back at Mrs. Hansen, right? For treating you badly,” Patton recalled.

“And skipping class is because it’s too overwhelming to sit still learning useless crap with a bunch of jerks who know nothing about what it’s like to try and navigate when your feet don’t just take you to where you need to go. They don’t care that it hurts to walk and it’s just safer to take my time with friends by my side to catch me.”

“I-”

“You just see me as some bad boy to upset people with. You don’t care how I feel about it, do you?” Janus challenged.

“That’s not true-” Patton tried to protest. 

“I’m not some average petty sinner to disappoint your family with at the holidays. I actually have feeling and wants and needs and I just- I-”

Patton reached over to take one of Janus’ hands, “It’s okay. I-I didn’t want to use you, Janus. Not in the long run. Sure, I wanted to experiment and see if Roman’s right about crushes, but I don’t want to trap you in a relationship you won’t enjoy. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Janus looked away, trying to pull his hand free.

“Just remember that you asked me out tonight. So, I thought that kisses were something you’re supposed to do on dates. Can we try again without interruptions this time? See if… well, if we’ll like that sort of thing?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, yes I am. You are not a manic pixie dream boy or the dangerous rebel to scare my mom with. You’re Janus. And I don’t know you very well because I’ve never tried to get to know you. But we’re on a date. It’s past curfew. I think you at least deserve a chance at something properly romantic, since defacing property was just the distraction to keep Remus and Virgil busy. It’s too late to get food anywhere. So maybe we can try a kiss and start over again in the morning?”

Janus blinked, trying to process all of that at once. “Um… no.”

“No?” Patton sat back immediately, “did I do something wrong?”

“Not necessarily, I just… you asking makes it very clear to me that I don’t want to kiss you, Patton.” Janus tried to explain.

Patton nodded, “okay. I- actually, thank you? I- I was so scared…”

Janus chuckled softly, “I don’t think we’re crushing on each other. I’m not sure why not. But I’m glad you agree.” 

Patton nodded emphatically this time, “I very much don’t want to be the awkward one. I think… it would feel wrong or empty to try. And that’s not your fault-”

“I get it. I agree. We tried. Dating just… isn’t in our cards,” Janus laughed a bit more at that, “let me take you home?”

“Yes please. Maybe at school… we can just say hi?”

“That would be much more pleasant.”

Patton sighed softly and leaned back in the passenger seat, “I won’t tell about the eggs and toilet paper, by the way. Maybe I should ask Mrs. Hansen why she’s not letting you leave for class on time?”

Janus smiled, “That could be helpful. Maybe she just needs to see one of the responsible students concerned on our behalf.”

“Would have been a lot less illegal if you just asked me to do that in the first place,” Patton giggled, “It makes more sense than vandalism.”

“But throwing trash at her house is fun,” Janus grins, starting the car again.

“It may be fun. But there are much better outlets for the anger, I would think.” Patton grinned.

“Maybe you’ll be a good acquaintance after all,” Janus mused, pulling back out onto the road to take his definitely-not-a-date back home.

[lovely-vermin]

Hello! Do you think you could write about how the welcome home neighbors would react to a musician!reader?

Like someone who plays a ton of instruments, and plays around the neighborhood.

love your writing! ❤️

Aww thanks neighbor and of course I can!! Also I’m sorry for the long wait neighbor! Been busy with school!

Welcome home with a Musician!GN!Reader

Summary:every neighborhood has their own musician! Don’t they?

Characters:I’m doing them all! Expect poppy as I had 0 ideas on what to write for her sorry! Usually I’d add poppy yet I couldn’t as I had no ideas sorry!!

Warnings?:Reader gets called symphony or melody but it’s bc of their hobbie! Reader is said to be soft spoken but it can be changed! Some Creepy stuff I think,idk it’s mentioned Reader’s song reminds people to much of home the uncanny one or them secretly saying things through music

Wally darling

-he LOVES music! After hearing the audio of him singing I fully believe that he loves music and singing!

-Often times when you play your music Wally ask if he can sing as you play. You say of course and you two become a wonderful musician duo,honestly it sounds like paradise as you play your instrument and he sings

-He sometimes watches your hands as they work the instrument. He’s very confused on how it works or how the noises are made but yet they sound so elegant and perfect when you do it!

-Everyone heard the familiar tune of their favorite musician and the soft humming of the neighborhood darling. It was always a calm and peaceful song which made it better as almost everyone had a bad day. “Ya think it’s working wals?” The soft voice spoke from the musician. “Of course,our friends always cheer up when you and I play!” You smiled at that and continued. That’s your favorite thing in this neighborhood,everyone is so positive

Barnaby B. Beagle

-he finds it interesting,it’s mentioned Barnaby taught Wally to sing so I think sometimes on rare occasions you two have a duet

-when he can’t sleep he’ll ask if you can play something for him,often it’ll be through the phone and you both end up asleep. It’s very cute to see!

-Sometimes the others just find you two,no movements,you playing your instrument,him staring at you as if you two are silently discussing something…they don’t know what but it worries them whenever they find out it happens more often then they think…

-Wally was walking to Barnaby’s house to ask a question but once he opened the door he saw a sight he wished stop. It’s was the silent song or what the others have named it. “Ahem!” Soon you stopped and Barnaby looked at Wally smiling. “Wally buddy! What do you need?” “I wanted to know what you do when your bored,I’m out of paint and do not know what to do!” “Well I practice my jokes” soon you chimed in. “Usually I’m with others or just making imaginary stories in my head about every day objects..” “hmm…thank you friends!” “Of course bud!” You just nodded as Wally left still not completely over the silent song.

Sally Starlet

-She absolutely loves it! She loves all music (sometimes sad ones) no matter what language even if she can’t understand!

-She’ll ask if you can play some music for her plays. She often gives you the descriptions of what the feeling should be or at least feel like!

-Sometimes when she feels sad and lonely she’ll go to you and listen to you play your music. It comforts her a lot!

-The play was beauty and the beast,a favorite of her because of Belle’s character design and personality. Everyone was in awe as they heard the balls music be play from your instrument which may I say you looked very focused on. The play was splendid and the music just added everything to it!

Eddie Dear

-He absolutely loves joyful and happy music but he loves hearing it from you! He hasn’t heard live music since…since…oh he cannot remember when but he believes he’s heard it live before!

-Sometimes certain songs or melodys remind of an unknown memory. When that happens every sees him just sitting beside you,eyes shut,sorta leaning on you,and listening to you play. It reminds them of how a son would wait beside his mother or father but accidentally fall asleep on the floor

-Eddie does love it when music from you is playing as he does his job adds more joy to him! Everyone sees him with more bounce and joy in his steps which is honestly such a sight to see!

- “Heya Melody!” You looked at the familiar mailman waving at you as you softly put down your instrument in its case so you could go walk and greet Eddie. “Heya Eds…any mail today?” Your voice was soft as usually and sorta shy but he heard perfectly fine as he smiled and brought out some mail for you. “Of course symphony!” “Thanks eds” “no problem!” You waved goodbye as he left to another house,such a sweet guy!

Frank Frankly

-He is intrigued and interested. I feel like he likes to learn about unknown things he doesn’t understand or know about and your instrument falls under the ‘how does it work and make sound?’ Category!

-He’ll ask questions about your music and instrument and why you chose it. He wants to learn more about his neighbors hobby and his neighbor!

-When he’s to frustrated he’ll just silently sit beside you and listen to the sound from your instrument. It always calms him down,he listens to music but yours is special and is just perfect to calm him down.

-You and Eddie were butterfly watching as a new butterfly flew to your instrument and landed on it. “Woah…” “seems to like your music has well!” That made you smile as Frank took a picture of the sight. It wasn’t surprising as butterflies and moths always land on your instrument

Julie Joyful

-She adores it! She adores and listens to all type of music even if it’s not her type or if she doesn’t understand it!

-She will hum a tone as you play because she kinda wants to join but doesn’t know how! It makes everyone feel so warm and comfortable yet feels like home!

-Julie will sing a few silly lyrics if she wants to! Often you play your tone she’ll get you to dance with her as she wants you to dance with her!

-Humming and a tune playing was heard,Wally wasn’t singing but he knew it was Julie. You two often do duets randomly. “You got an amazing voice Juls” “Aww thanks Melody! Your song and little tune is quite impressive!” “Thanks,lots of hard work!”

Howdy Pillar

-He finds it very very comforting to hear a new sound of tunes! Most times it’s just his market’s music playing so hearing something completely new gives him comfort!

-He does get very stress so when he is stress he’ll go to you so he can listen to your tune. It’s very comforting to him as you play a tune that sounds to much like home…

-He does hum a tune you play often as he works without noticing! It shows you how much you play the tune and how it sticks to them like glue! Yet whenever they sing it they only remember some memory they didn’t know exist

-People we’re going in and out yet they heard him humming the tune,the tune Y/N plays. Howdy does it often without realizing yet no one dares point it out! They all find it wholesome and adorable! Howdy remembers running along the woods as his ma watched him,he ended up falling but then got pulled up by someone who looked a little to much like Y/N yet….he knows he’s never seen Y/N before but his ma did say he forgets something from his past time to time so maybe that’s why!

[legacygirlingreen]

July 1890 // Farmer Sebastian Sallow x Reader (part 6)

Part 6, master list and description here

Word count: 2,000

My smile is like I won a contest

Sebastian had been encouraged to keep a closer eye on the neighbor ever since he’d been the one to bring her back home that day he found her under the willow. He could hardly forget how relieved her mother had been to see she was okay, nor the way the woman grabbed him violently, kissing his cheeks and repeatedly thanking him for his help. Despite the unpleasant circumstances surrounding Anne, he still was attempting to find moments to give attention to the neighbor girl who he’d grown so fond of. 

“What house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Sebastian asked her as he plucked a weed from the ground, rolling it between his fingers before throwing it down. 

Over the last year the girl, who was nearing 12, had grown up so much. Her face continued to lose its baby fat and she gained a few inches in height. Despite that, she still her distance in age behind Sebastian, who still bore the impressions of being older than her.  

“You know them better than I do… what house do you think I’d be sorted into'' she asked with a shrug. 

“Hmm… as much as I’d love to say Slytherin I hardly imagine a world where you end up in the same house as me… unless of course you asked to be.” He said before glancing back over her. “You are very brilliant, you enjoy reading, so I’d put my money on Ravenclaw. But I could also see a world where you get sorted into hufflepuff for how caring and kind you are. Perhaps even Gryffindor since you put on such a brave face despite all that’s happened” he reasoned, truly unsure which house she’d end up in. He did however think more than likely in a few months he’d see her walking about the castle in blue. 

Sebastian wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was so relieved she was finally starting school. Since Solomon decided Anne would not be going back he was wildly unprepared to start school without her. Knowing the sweet girl next door would be starting soon to keep him company was a nice compromise he supposed. 

“I still haven’t gotten my letter.” She said bluntly and he turned towards her hopeful. 

“You’ll get it. Should be any day now… when was your mother going to take you to hogsmeade to get your wand? I remember how exciting it was when I finally got mine!” He exclaimed. 

“About that… mum has been very busy with my siblings and work as of late… I’m not sure she even recalls I am to be starting education this year if I’m honest.” She mumbled out frustrated. 

“I could always take you if you’d like,” he offered and she thought about it for a moment, realizing her mother likely wouldn’t care who took her, and would find that having the task completed to be a relief. 

“I think I’d like that, if you don’t mind” she told him and he nodded. 

“Of course, I would be honored to take you,” he said with a smile. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then. We can also get some things to help Anne while we are there. Maybe even swing by Honeydukes” he offered and she grew warm at the thought of being out and about in a new place with Sebastian alone. 

She hardly slept that night, busy thinking about spending the day with him. There would be no chores, no distractions, and she’d get such an important element of being a witch alongside a young wizard only a few years her senior. Ever since the day he’d found her, she had felt the crush she developed long ago growing more, and more intense.  

When he finally came to her door that morning, explaining to her mother his offer, she was elated. Her mother was thankful enough he was taking her, saving the trip. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself walking the streets of Hogsmeade with the boy. As she took in the awe and splendor of the bustling little town, she couldn’t help but smile. She almost neglected to notice Sebastian watching her as she looked around, senses filled to the brim with new sights, sounds, even smells. 

“Charming village isn’t it?” he asked her as he gestured for her to keep walking straight ahead. 

“Very charming…” she said, reading a sign for the book shop. 

“Mr. Ollivanders is just up and to the left. His family has been making wands for generations!” he explained as they continued. 

She recalled the countless times he had proudly displayed his very simple and straight aspen wand, with its light wood, and the ornate handle that he’d picked out for it himself. The green checkered pattern with its gold details looking so striking and beautiful against the very plain wand. It was strong, unyielding, and so very Sebastian. She had recalled him mentioning it’s core so long ago, and how it was often attributed to those who could duel well. Beyond that she simply had glances of it from the times he’d twirl it out of a need to not be still, or the even rarer occasion he’d use it in front of her to demonstrate a spell. 

As she stepped foot into the cramped shop, filled to the absolute brim with wands she became overwhelmed. This was such an integral moment, and while she didn’t regret allowing the neighbor to be the one to take her, a small portion of her wished she could’ve gone with her father instead…

Pushing that thought aside Sebastian spoke with the shopkeeper, explaining the situation as the man looked over her, examining things like her clothes and her demeanor before rummaging around to try and find some. As they continued to search through and try different wands, each failing more than the last to connect with her, she wanted to give up. 

They’d gone through so many woods, all of the well known cores and still nothing felt right. If it hadn’t been for Sebastian’s encouraging face she’d have suggested giving up. The wand maker departed the main room, rummaging through the back as she let out a sigh. 

“Hey it's fine, you just haven’t found the one that's chosen you. I’m sure we’ll find one in no time!” he explained and she let out a snort. 

“Not surprising. What wand would want to be stuck with such a -” she started, degradation heavy in her tone as he frowned immediately, preventing her from continuing that sentence. 

“Stop. Whatever you were about to say, just stop.  You’re nothing short of brilliant, even untrained. I’m sure all the wands we’ve tried are simply just feeling anxious about working with such a talented witch.” he said and she looked down. 

As she tried to find her bearings she heard the old man in the other room say “ah ha!” before rushing back towards them. In his hands contained a very dusty box, much more ornate than the ones in the main room. She could tell this wand in particular was very old in comparison to the others. 

“This one has been waiting for the right owner for nearly a century now… perhaps you are its rightful owner,” he said, opening the black box. Nestled inside the silk lining was a slightly twisted wand, with a beautiful light but slightly reddish hue.  When she lifted it, she could almost feel the connection instantaneously - as if the wand was speaking to her directly. 

“Go ahead try it out” the wand maker encouraged as she lifted it, unsure what she wanted to cast, or even how to use it. Regardless she lifted it, waving it and thinking about how wonderful a connection it felt to her very essence. Thinking of how lovely the songbirds outside sounded, she waved it, producing a small ball of light, resembling a bird but made of gold dust, that repeated the same song as those outside. 

“Wow…” she said, finally realizing that this wand must've been a long lost companion of hers, despite being made many years ago. 

“I think we’ve found a winner. A very rare wand indeed. Willow wands are often sought after for their beautiful appearance but it's nearly impossible to find one that trusts their owner enough to use. Willows usually go for witches and wizards that need to grow a sense of confidence in themselves. They also are usually wielded by those who have aspirations of healing or protection. As for the core… I hardly see thestral tail hair cores being made anymore, as they are usually quite unpredictable but they are extremely powerful. This wand is quite an eccentric one, but it seems to be just what you need” he said, closing the box back for her. 

She nodded, finding it odd that the wand that chose her would be so unique, but hardly questioned it. Shelling out the money given by her mother that morning, she finally collected the wand and turned to Sebastian who nodded towards the door. 

“Just head out, I will be out in a moment” he explained while looking at the handles and she thought nothing of it. His wand handle had started to look worse for wear over the time he’d been using it so she stepped out, sitting one one of the steps as she waited. 

Sebastian didn’t keep her waiting long, and eventually joined her before ushering the both of them off in search of some herb he’d read about that might help Anne’s curse. 

When they returned to Feldcroft for the evening she started to part ways with Sebastian for supper when a very elegant Owl swooped down from the sky near her head, dropping a note for her. As she moved to pick it up off the ground from where it had fallen she looked at the front, detailing her name in cursive on the light blue envelope. She flipped it over to the back and when she saw the crest detailed in the wax seal her stomach dropped. 

No this wasn’t right.

Ripping open the letter she quickly discovered her fears. 

Bonjour Y/f/n, 

It is with great pride that we welcome you to study and grow your magic at Beauxbatons, where magic meets excellence… 

She stopped reading after that.  Looking up at him, knowing that Beauxbatons wouldn’t have sent a letter if Hogwarts intended for her to receive one as well, she realized quickly that they would in fact not be attending school together in September. Worse than that, they’d be separated by the English channel and too many miles for floo travel, or for him to aparate - a skill he very recently mastered. 

She had almost not even realized Sebastian had leaned into her, reading the letter over her shoulder but she soon felt his breathing disrupting the baby hairs escaping her plait along her neck. Turning around quickly, she discovered trying to hide it from him proved useless as Sebastian already looked upset.

“I-” she tried to reason, pushing aside her own disappointment in turn for focusing on him in the moment. 

“You’re not going to Hogwarts.” he spoke, seemingly devoid of emotions as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. 

“Not by choice, I told you I never received my letter, and -” she explained to him as he looked down at her, sadness looming in her eyes and she wished more than anything she could fix the situation. It’s not like she really wanted to go to Beauxbatons. Although, the thoughts of attending the school her father had, back in her home country did have some appeals… 

“I’m going to be alone.” he said flatly.

“That’s not true, you’ll have Ominis and -” she tried to reason once more and he stopped her again. 

“You don’t understand. If you’re not there… I… I need to go” he quickly spouted out before aparting away from her without so much as a warning, leaving her there in the hamlet alone as her mother called her home, tears beginning to fall down her face.

[intoxicated-chan]

✦ 𝟎𝟎𝟓 ✦ 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission. Any photos used do not belong to me! Credits to @/cafekitsune for the divider!!

Series’ Masterlist // Wattpad Vers.

(A/n) // There are two books of Miguel O’Hara coming in June, one of dark content and another not dark content. I ask all of you to please be patient! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Content Warnings // 788

Word Count // Mentions of intercourse…

Livio always adored his brother Wolfwood, which is why I found it strange that he never mentioned him to me…

“I was actually scheduled to return in three days. But I came home early to surprise her.” Livio explains, “(Y/n) has always surprised me, so I thought it was my turn. I just don’t know what to give her.”

Wolfwood hums and then perks up, “How ‘bout this? You surprise her ‘ere.” Mentioning his kitchen and dining room, “Just need to clean. You whip up some of your food, pick her up and I promise you everythin’ will be all set. I’ll even leave you guys completely alone.”

Livio smiles, “You would actually do that?”

“Of course, we’re brothers. But I better not find stains on my couch or anywhere else.”

Livio blushes, “Nick!”

“Kidding, not kidding.” Nicholas laughs at Livio, “Anyways, go get a new suit or somethin’, while I clean up this disaster.” Then an idea pops into his head, “I guess I could use a helping hand.”

1:23 PM - FLORIST SHOP

“What about this one?” Meryl points out, “I think a red carnation would go well, right Vash?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Vash agrees, the two look at each other and then at Wolfwood, waiting for his response.

“I don’t think that’s the right one.” He answers.

“You didn’t even look at it!” Meryl looks over his shoulder and sees him flipping through a book, images and descriptions of other plants, “So, you already have an idea in mind?”

“Yep.”

“Then why bring us?!”

“You guys seemed to have nothin’ to do. Thought you guys make great company.” Wolfwood snickers at her reaction.

“Looking for something specific?” The female worker comes, notepad in hand, “How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for that blue-purple plant. The plant has leaves that are rounded, oh and the plant also looks like a helmet.” Wolfwood answers.

She thinks for a moment, “You must be talking about Wolfsbane.”

“Yes, I am. Do you have any in your shop?”

“Actually we do, we have them in stock. Would you like to order some?”

“Yes please.” Wolfwood follows the worker to the register, “What’s the earliest day you can deliver?”

She laughs, “By in stock, I mean we have some in our store right now. But I must warn you…”

“Wolfsbane?” Meryl mumbles, “What is wolfsbane?”

“It looks really pretty.” Vash tells her, showing her a photo on his phone, “Never took Wolfwood as a flower kind of guy.”

“Neither did I.”

2:12 PM - WOLFWOOD’S HOUSE

“She told you?!” Meryl shouts, slumping over the table in sadness, “I thought I was the only one who knew…” She pouts.

“I think you were but Livio and I are brothers.” Wolfwood tells her, “I was bound to find out sooner or later.

“And (Y/n)-Chan told me when I was helping her with groceries and bags.”

“But it was supposed to be our little secret!”

“Well oops.” Wolfwood chuckles.

“But why Wolfsbane?” Watching Wolfwood pick at the flowers with gloves on while he stands back.

“I believe the color compliments him, it brings out his best features.” Wolfwood tells him, “Plus I think (Y/n)-Chan would like them, don’t you agree?”

“Now that I think about it, (Y/n) was thinking about starting her own garden.” Meryl comments, “But she never thought past the idea.”

“Why’s that?” Asks Vash.

“If I remember correctly, her boyfriend fears that he’ll ruin them.”

“...How can you ruin flowers?”

“That’s Livio for you.”

Meryl then looks at Wolfwood, “That also reminds me, how come you never knew (Y/n) was dating someone who was practically your brother?”

“Livio works at a major company, forgot what position but he’s usually private about things like that. He doesn’t like flaunting anything unless it’s for (Y/n)-Chan.” Wolfwood answers.

“(Y/n)-Chan really scored lucky.” Meryl smiles, happy for you.

Vash clutches his hands tightly, “Yeah… She sure did.”

“But how private is he?”

“He took five years to tell me where he was working.” Wolfwood again answers, “I don’t blame. We’ve grown distant a little but we try to keep in touch. It would’ve been easier if he wasn’t away for so many business meetings. It took another two before he told me he was seeing someone.”

“They seem to trust each other a lot.” Vash then looks over Wolfwood’s shoulder, “What are you doing?”

Wolfwood uses his elbow to push Vash back, “Careful, you’re gonna mess me up. I’m just cutting a few loose ends, nothing wrong with trimming a flower to make it all pretty.” Smirking once his back was turned to Vash, “Besides, I’m sure this is gonna be quite the surprise.”

Taglist // @themaskismyface , @jasperthechaosgremlin ,

[texmexgurl]

Francesca in her mid forties decided to take a chance on a blind date but fate and a tall Austrian man had other plans. She was a manager at the premiere hotel in Monaco and he happened to be an uptight guest that got on her last nerve.

Hotel manager x Toto Wolff

Chapter 1: First Date

Francesca: 

I looked at myself in the mirror wishing my daily skin routine would take off a few years. I mean I don’t look terrible for my mid-forties but the grey hair would take over if I didn’t dye it every month. I am going on a date tonight at a new trendy restaurant in Monaco. The last time I went on a date it was with my ex-husband, so I am out of practice. A blind date adds another level of anxiety. 

I do not come to Monaco often, but I am here for work for the next week til the Monaco Grand Prix is over. I manage a few hotels around Italy and France so it gets pretty busy during the summertime and for big events like a race weekend. Our hotel houses all the drivers and staff, so I need to blow off some steam before next week. I can not remember the last time I had sex. I don’t even have high expectations, but I only have a few weeks away from my son before I go back home to Italy. 

I make my way to the restaurant thinking about all the possible ways this could go wrong. I walk in and see a man matching the description my friend gave me. 

“Hello, it is nice to meet you in person. I have heard great things about this place, but haven’t been able to get here.” I say sitting down at the table

“I think you have the wrong person. I am here meeting the short Italian man behind you” he points to a man in a polo waiting to sit down

“This is embarrassing. I have a blind date and you match the description but now I see I was wrong” I get up and see a man at the back of the room waving at me. I slowly do a walk of shame to the right table. The man is also wearing a light blue shirt but not nearly as attractive. He has greyish brown hair with a thick mustache. 

“Did you find the place okay? I have been coming here regularly since the opening” he says sipping the wine I guess he already ordered. 

“Well since you are a regular, what do you recommend?” I study the menu carefully looking for something that would not cost over 50 euros. 

“The filet is amazing along with all their drinks. So what brings you to Monaco? Not many people come here for work and don’t stay forever. I came in the 2000s and haven’t even thought of moving back home.”

“ I love my life in Italy and I just sometimes don’t know who is real here. Not saying anything against you.” I respond truthfully

We continue to have a good conversation but I can’t help but let my eyes linger to the table I first sat at. I could only see the back of his head but for some reason, I wish I was not mistaken. I know this is not moral, but I came here for a fun night and Harry can provide that. As we walk out Harry stops right at the table I was at previously to my horror.

“Can I get a picture? I am a huge fan of Formula 1. I was wondering what my date was doing with another man but now I completely understand.” the mystery man stands up towering over both of us “Could you take the photo, Francesca?” I nod wanting this moment to end

“Nice talking to you earlier Francesca and I am always happy to meet fans” he says to both of us but he is staring right into my eyes with a small smirk on his face. 

All I want is to act selfishly for once in my life and go for what I want. I hinted to Harry that I was not looking for anything beyond this and waited for him to leave before walking back into the restaurant to sit down across from the mystery man but he was nowhere to be seen. 

Toto: 

“Look, our car is shit compared to other teams. I want to be on the podium in Monaco so what modifications and upgrades can we do?” I asked our lead engineer but it is clear that this conversation was going nowhere. I had dinner with the Ferrari team principal in an hour about Lewis and his future there. I arrive at the restaurant early to get a drink and relax. Fred texts that he is dropping his car off at the valet. 

“Hello, it is nice to meet you in person. I have heard great things about this place, but haven’t been able to get here” says a beautiful woman around my age. I will say I am confused about why she is sitting here but it is becoming clear that sadly she is here for another man. 

“I thought you were ditching me for that lady not that I would blame you.” Fred says jokingly 

“Yeah well the thought crossed my mind.” I say honestly. “Does it look like she is having a good time?”

“Maybe, she keeps looking this way so I would say you had a good impression.” I wish I could turn around without looking desperate. I decided to change the topic to Lewis to try and distract myself. 

“Lewis is excited about the change. I will say I was pissed for a while because he is like family to me. I do want what is best for him but I may have to ignore you at the hotel this week.”

“I never understood why you stay at a hotel in Monaco when you live here. Why give up your amazing house for a hotel?”

“I really like the hotel and want to be able to be close to my staff and drivers if anything were to happen. Also they have a new manager this year, so I need to make sure it is up to our standards. A bad hotel can make a race hell for drivers. Remember in Austin when the college students took over the floor. I can still feel the vibrations in my head. My kids are staying at my place for while they are on summer break and as much as I love them they can be annoying. Andrea is coming with her boyfriend and Alex loves video games and yelling while playing them. So the hotel is the best option even with an inexperienced manager.”

Francesca. The name of the woman in my thoughts all night. I could not listen to a word Fred was saying because I was imagining her on a date with another man. When the man stopped to get a photo, I could see the fear in her eyes. I tried to be nice to the guy but I could not keep my eyes off of her. My night got worse because not only did she leave with that jerk, but I got a call from George that he was stuck in England due to severe weather delays. I head back to the hotel to try to get some sleep.

It was pointless trying to sleep so I sent an email to the manager of the hotel to inform them about the expectations of my team along with the needed items for the weekend. Marco, the old manager, knew how to run a tight ship without making any enemies. I never had any issues here, but we need everything to be perfect in order to even attempt a podium. 

Chapter 2: oops

Francesca:

The nerve of this man to send me an email close to midnight about all of his needs. I want the best for all my guests but pumpernickel bread is not as important as the needs of the hundreds of other people staying here. Whoever this Toto is needs someone to knock some sense into him. Who even goes by Toto? I mean a dog maybe but an uptight jerk seems more fitting now. Now I am not proud of this but the liquor is starting to kick in and I need a release which seems to be a perfect blend to write a very passive aggressive email. 

Dear Mr. Wolff, 

While I understand your concern about the way I will run the hotel during your stay I can assure you everything will be up to the same standard as previous stays. I do not appreciate being contacted at this time of day and no one else has tried to reach me at this time before. Maybe you think you are entitled to more than others due to your position of  “CEO/Team Principal”. I will have all the items you requested and maybe if I have any extra time this weekend can personally wipe your ass. 

Best Wishes - that you lose!

Ms. DeLuca

I was never going to send this but it was fun writing it. I put my phone on my bed and went to sleep after a bit of tossing and turning. When I woke up it showed another email from this Toto guy, so I am assuming he wanted to apologize for the message last night but the reality was far worse. When I see my drunken email from last night was the one he was replying to. 

“FUCK, NO NO this can not be happening.” Why Fran why? I hate myself, him, and the guy at the restaurant for not being there.when i came back. I can tell you right now that I would have not been checking my email if he was there. I am afraid of even looking at his response. I am probably fired and blacklisted from any other company in the area. I mean me and my son could move back to America but he loved his life in Italy. I finally calmed down and went into PR mode. I will make sure Toto has the best possible experience from now on. 

Toto: 

I woke up at 7am to an email from some people from work and the hotel manager. I slowly read the email from Ms. DeLuca to see if maybe I read it wrong the first time. I mean I work with a lot of people who speak their mind, but I did not think my requests were that outlandish. I can not help but laugh. I have not had someone talk to me this way since my ex wife said if I could fuck a car then I would just marry Mercedes. This makes me even more intrigued about this woman. I wrote her an email back saying that maybe she may want to go back and read through emails before sending them. I also decided to tell her I will call for my ass whipping sometime during my stay since it was offered. 

I called Marco to ask him about this new manager and what her story was. I am very intrigued about this mystery woman. Most would be mad. I mean Christian would have her fired immediately but I want to get to know her better. I still have the woman from last night on my mind but this DeLuca lady is now taking front and center.  

“Ciao Marco, I am just calling about the new manager of the hotel? Is she going to run the hotel as well as you? She is not even from Monaco, therefore she may not be able to understand the caliber of this event.” 

“Slow down Toto. She has been in charge of customer relations for our Rome, Sicily, and Lyon branches remotely, but wants to take on a more involved role. Her son is older now, so she does not have to be home all the time. I can assure you I gave her everything she needs to be successful. You can be a real pain in the ass, so try to tone that down a little. She is a sweet woman who deserves this chance.” he goes on but I focus on the fact that she has a son, so probably has a husband. “I would set you up with her but I think she is too good for you”

“Ahh most women are too good for me but I don’t know if I trust you to set me up. I mean she could be a 70 year old with yarn in her purse.” I laugh off trying not to sound too desperate for information about the intriguing woman. 

“For your case I wish she was some old lady but she is a very attractive, sweet, caring woman. She is originally American but speaks Italian and French, so she is a real asset to our team here. If she quits after this weekend, I blame you. 

“Yes, she seems very sweet from our brief encounter. She even offered me extra help if I needed it.” I try to sound genuine without being sarcastic. “Well I will talk to you once this is all over to complain about everything like I always do.”

“Ciao Stronzo (asshole)” 

Not even a minute later I get a call from an unknown caller. “Hello, is this Mr. Wolff? This is Ms. DeLuca from The Riviera Hotel.”

“I was not expecting a call from you but you are braver than most. I can tell that something happened the night you email because nobody has tried to please me more in a long time. I thought I would have to wait at least a few more years before someone would have to help me in the bathroom.”

“Look, I will be honest, I had a bad night and had a few drinks when your email came through. I am such a perfectionist that your email made me overwhelmed and had me questioning all the preparations that I had done just for more things to be on my plate. I formally apologize and if there is anything outside the bathroom I could assist you in then just call me on this number.”

“Calm down, Delu-”

“Francesca, please call me Francesca or Franny” No way… It is not the most popular name but there is a possibility they are not related at all. 

“Okay, Francesca. Why don’t we meet at the hotel tonight since I am going to check in today? I can clear up some of my requests and get to know you better since I will probably be seeing you a lot in the future.”

“That would be great. I am sorry by the way for how I handled everything” she said before saying goodbye.

[marisol-holme]

The retired good girl's guide to writing

Little Pigeon Stubby Steps

I remember my casual interview with the Ideas Foundation like it was yesterday. My hair was still long, and I chose to wear a smart sky-blue collared shirt for the zoom call. I hadn’t been able to eat because I was so nervous. I wasn’t nervous for the interview itself, normally I’m quite confident going into them, I was nervous because I didn’t want to let Heather down. 

Heather, my friend, mentor, landlady and now interviewer had recommended I apply for the role. She’d spotted me drinking wine and smoking cigarettes in the corner of her garden, like some washed up dejected moron. I’d told her I’d been applying to jobs, but I wasn’t very successful. Truth be told, the constant rejection took its toll and probably looked quite sad from outside myself. The number of times I’d check my emails when I parked in the driveway and ended up crying was… embarrassingly high. I was bummed out and I think my vibes were bumming Heather out so much that she offered to look at my CV and give me some pointers. CV spruced up, I applied for a Marketing and Events Executive role with the Ideas Foundation.

I was interviewed by Heather, Helen, and Joe. Three people was a little nerve wrecking, I’m not too arrogant to admit, but I answered all their questions well and felt confident. I’ve always been good at thinking fast on my feet and my general knowledge isn’t too bad. I think it’s stupid to be judged on those merits though, there are a whole host of brilliant people out there that might not be too ‘sharp’ initially or be nervous or whatever. I remember trailing off at the end of the interview in a depressed sort of fashion and hoped they hadn’t noticed. I was quite tired, and I’d sweated through my shirt. I don’t think I’d even showered. I was glad that it was over zoom. I was giving depressed. They hadn’t got back to me with an offer before I handed in my notice at the nursery. My limbs had been feeling like lead for a while now, and I was sleeping on bean bags or in my car on lunch breaks. I could barely move around with the same energy. I felt bad for the kids that I was trying to educate. I don’t think they noticed but their parents certainly did. 

I was always open with the parents, professionally of course, but I told the truth. Maybe my unwillingness to turn a blind eye to the total extortion that was going on made me feel depressed. I hadn’t signed an NDA, so I had no obligation to the company whatsoever. The company that allowed their employees to take work home to complete… unpaid. It has probably changed now. I hope it has. The colleagues I had didn’t deserve all that. Maybe that makes me a dick to cast pity over them, or maybe its a residual depressive perspective, but my god was it a sorry state of affairs. 

My new job came through and I was to be paid about three grand more to do something, in my eyes, that was far less physically and mentally demanding than childcare. The job description was varied, and I had a lot to learn. John taught me how to use WordPress, which has proved to be very handy, and the basics of SEO management; Joe taught me how to coordinate and execute and event – this was very nerve wrecking for me and not something that I enjoyed; Marie taught me the academic backing for PR and article writing; I had to use my own initiative to figure stuff out, which I enjoy. Helen and her sister, Charlotte, taught me a lot about comms, although I’m not entirely sure that I know what comms is still. Throw in some decent knowledge about HubSpot, email marketing, social media management, scheduling tools, blah blah blah and I learnt quite a lot. But mostly I enjoyed writing the articles. Helen had to reign me in a few times as I’d get a too political for a nonpolitical organisation. I am political. 

I’d also started watching Sex in the City after work, having recently come out of a viewing slump that meant I was rewatching the same three shows constantly (Russian Doll, Bojack Horseman, The Queen’s Gambit). I love Sex in the City. I find it funny. I think for the current societal climate and post #metoo movement, it’s aged kind of badly. But, take it with a pinch of salt, read it as a satire, understand what it did for women in the 90s, and it’s a damn decent show. The characters are real and flawed, never able to pass the Bechdel test, and honestly, a great laugh. It took me a while to realise that I really liked Sarah Jessica-Parker’s character, Carrie Bradshaw. Carrie is insensitive to her friends, most of the time, obsessed with Mr Big, and writes a sex column. Oh, how I admire her.

Turns out, a lot of women hate her character. I mean, she is kind of annoying, but I think Carrie’s behaviour is quite synonymous with what misogyny looks like in women, and women do not like to think that they might be perpetrators of misogyny because, then they would be no better than a misogynistic man. I hold my hands up, I’ve got plenty of internalised misogyny swirling around my brain, I’m not ashamed of it, I’m actively trying to deconstruct it. But like homophobia and racism, if you can’t accept you might be afflicted by these structurally oppressive thoughts and behaviours, then you’ll never be a part of fixing them. A slight tangent but an important one. 

Anyway, I admire Carrie, her career, and her fashion. I allow myself now to browse Vinted and buy some cute clothes, to experiment with my style a little more. It was something that I forced my partner to watch, and I think he did secretly enjoy it too, even if the script is unbearable. Mostly, the show allowed me to feel okay with where I am at in life. I’m 24 years old, living independently, in a healthy relationship, employed and learning to love myself. I think that constitutes as doing more than okay. 

Then, before I knew it, my tenure at the Ideas Foundation finished abruptly. Well, I kind of knew it was coming because the charity wasn’t so hotly funded, and with looming elections literally everywhere, all the big corporations and brands were clinging onto their cash. Very generous of them! 

This was my first redundancy. I felt pretty okay with it. I actually felt sort of relieved. I’d been daydreaming about finding a job in a magazine for a while, so I felt bad only because I thought I’d manifested the early end to my contract. With hindsight, I probably should have communicated this to my work, but rejection is redirection whether it is intended to sting, or not.

[lilmackiereads]

HOLDING UP THE UNIVERSE (2016) BY JENNIFER NIVEN - SPOILER-FILLED REVIEW

Overall Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

This week I finished Holding Up the Universe (2016) by Jennifer Niven. I found it in a Little Free Library near my parents’ house and the title and dual cover art struck me as interesting. Without reading the jacket description I took it home and devoured it within a couple days. If you haven’t read this book yet, but plan to, head to my page and read my Spoiler Free Review instead! 

The narration goes back and forth between the two lead characters, Jack – a teenage boy with prosopagnosia (a neurological disorder that makes it difficult to recognize and remember faces), and Libby — an overweight teenage girl who has been homeschooled throughout middle school due to immense weight gain from the grief of her mother’s unexpected death. This story kind-of follows the Enemies to Lovers trope, but I don’t really feel like they were ever enemies, rather they just misunderstood each other.

Beware, we now go into spoiler territory. 

Character Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Libby was my favorite because she is so courageous and fun! I think Niven really nailed what a teenage girl thinks like and what anxiety feels like. I think Libby and I would get along because she loves to read and watch sci-fi/fantasy shows. I’m not much of a dancer, but I would love to join her dance club! 

Jack I also like, but he would be hard for me to get along with in person with his jerk-persona he puts on to keep other people away. I mean he’s pretty handsome so maybe I could look past it and be “the one to change him” like Libby. Haha. I do love the relationship he has with his little brother, Dusty, and I think his internal monologue and notes are hilarious. I think after he sees that Libby, Dusty, and a male side character are getting bullied he becomes a much braver person and that’s when I started to genuinely like him. His transformation, cocky attitude, and incredible curly hair, reminds me a lot of Patrick Verona from 10 Things I Hate About You (1999). If they make a movie, I need Jack to be a total H-O-T-T-I-E.

I like that Libby is not your “typical” Mary Sue beauty that so many teen romance novels have. I have never read a book from the perspective of a young woman of her size (300 to 600lbs+ over the course of the book). While Eleanor and Park (2012) by Rainbow Rowell features a teen who is a little overweight and not your average beauty, Niven choosing to make Libby “America’s Fattest Teen” is really committing to showing what life is like for someone who has experienced emotional and physical grief for a big portion of her life and how society treats that person and their relationships. Also, there are not a lot of books out there that feature someone of mixed race as the lead, such as Jack who has a white dad and a black mom. I think it’s interesting how he and his brothers are described as looking very different and how their appearance somewhat influences how other characters treat them.

While I adored Dusty, and Libby’s two main friends, Bailey and Rachel, I think many of the other side characters were not super memorable. Iris and Jayvee and Libby’s dad were ok, but most of the other side characters didn’t make much of an impact in my opinion (or have a lot of growth) which perhaps is part of the point. I can’t tell if Niven did this on purpose to show that not everyone grows out of their high school phase/ is not as special and mature as Libby and Jack or if she just didn’t know how to make the side characters dimensional.

Plot Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

I had many scenes that I adored as well as others that completely horrified me. 

Adored:

*Libby flaunting her body-ody-ody in her purple bikini at school and Libby’s bravery on page 310:

*Libby saying “no” to the Damsel’s dance team after they asked her to lose weight to become a member of the team... and then starting her own dance group!

*Libby and Jack’s first date and dance at Clara’s pizzeria. The restaurant itself sounds fun. I would totally go there!

*References to quotations and scenes as well as plot parallels to We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962) by Shirey Jackson, “The Crucible” (1953) by Arthur Miller and To Kill a Mockingbird (1960) by Harper Lee.

*Jack’s notes about being the kid of a parent with cancer and building robots.

*Dusty and his purse <3 

*The Shitkicker robot with its OWN purse! <3 <3

Horrified:

*Jack accidentally making out with his girlfriend’s cousin... twice.

*Jack taking Libby on a date out of town. It still wasn’t 100% clear to me if he was trying to surprise her or trying to avoid being seen with her.

*The game “Fat Girl Rodeo” --- this stressed me out because I had never heard of it and I don’t really like being touched. I never really thought about how awful people make up games about peoples’ weight and that some jackass would hear about it and think that it was a good idea to copy it. That would be my fear about this book becoming a movie is that if they showed it in the trailer people would see it out of context and it could become an awful TikTok trend. 

I figured at some point that Jack hiding the fact that he knows about Libby’s former title as “America’s Fattest Teen” and that he snuck into her house the day she was rescued from her home would come back to bite him. But whether it be him revealing the truth about stealing the book and magnet on purpose or accidentally I wasn’t sure. What I didn’t put together until the end is that Libby had always been curious about Jack, too, when she realized that he and his brothers were the brothers she imagined being friends with and called “Dean, Sam, and Cas” after her favorite characters from Supernatural. This threw my right back to my teenage years as I was obsessed with them in high school.

Cover Art: 5 out of 5 stars

While you should not judge a book by its cover, the cover art for this story is amazing. The blue paint schmears are very symbolic as how Jack sees people in his life while the blue marble is how he sees Libby. The marble also reminds me of Men in Black (1997) when the whole universe fits inside the keychain on the cat’s collar. When you take off this paper jacket to reveal the hard cover, the book is a beautiful baby blue with silver text and a sparkly heart. This book has a lot of love in it and is just very cute. I think I will take the paper cover off and leave it in my bookshelf with the baby blue and silver text instead because it is more eye-catching than the white book jacket with blue and black design in my opinion.

Reread-ability: Possibly!

Due to the fact that I read this book so quickly, I obviously liked it. However, it doesn’t beat my favorite three favorite teen love stories, The Fault in Our Stars (2012) and Turtles All the Way Down (2017) by John Green and Simon vs the Homosapien Agenda (2015) by Becky Albertalli, the three of which made me laugh and cry. HUTU made me laugh and get a bit sad at points, but not enough to actually cry. Perhaps if there was a film version of it then the visuals might be enough to do it for me.

I do want to keep it in my bookshelf in case I have kids, or a movie is made of it because I think it has a really good anti-bullying message and would be good for people to read to open up their world, especially for people who are prejudice against heavyset, racial, or disability differences. I don’t know if this book would lessen their prejudice, but I hope it would at least stir a little emotion.

[sock-to-the-third]

The Obelisk Gate

By NK Jemisin

Disclaimer: def mispelled some names, my bad

I love how Alabaster came back. It makes it feel more tied to The Fifth Season, in a … poetic way?

As far as structure goes, The Fifth Season is incredible. As it goes with orogenes vs stills and intergenerational trauma, I connected to The Obelisk Gate more.

Nassun

I can’t get over the difference between Coru and Nassun’s upbringing. Just how it feels like a whole separate universe seeing Nassun talking about Essun.

Essun even did the hand breaking thing!

Like fucking god, I forgot how terrified she must be to just do that. Syen certainly wouldn’t have done that to Coru. I don’t know how to put it into words. I’m just glad that Essun isn’t made out to be evil but Nassun’s feelings about this are portrayed as valid.

It was like she was raised by the facade of a parent when in reality Essun just brought the Fulcrum home and became an instructor.

…

v Jija

Nassun’s love of Jija is so palpable. Her denial after seeing her bro post-incident to trying to find a way to keep Jija as her dad in her mind.

Also, it just makes me wonder with Jija’s portrayal if this is how some people keep the cognitive dissonance in their mind thinking they’re doing good while also doing that…

It’s also really heart-breaking at the end when Nassun has to break off her relationship with her father. She tried so hard. Also just the way that her father not accepting her and her brother is largely what lead her to having to kill in self-defense and take this path.

I can’t remember the quote but Schaffa described Jija as someone who was like an acid or hyperreactive— that there wasn’t a safe way to be around him.

And damn did she try. She fawned over him and did everything to manipulate the situation where they could be in the same room but he was so set in those ways. It’s almost like Father Earth had a hold of him, except unlike Schafa, he didn’t try to fight it.

…

Essun

I want to talk exclusively about Essun first but since all the things I want to talk about are mostly relating to her relationship with other characters GAH! Okay, so.. I really liked how she uncovered how to sess out the magic in the Earth with Ykka’s help.

It’s this magical (heh) scene that I honestly should’ve saved a quote from. The way even the descriptive text seems to hold it’s breath as she realizes the white stringy things are everywhere.

Also, I originally sought out The Fifth Season researching DID and I completely forgot until now. Some of the interludes plus Essun being in the 2nd person solidify it. It’s not like other portrayals I’ve seen like Set a House in Order (pretty sure written by a neurotypical) and When Rabbit Howls (story-style autobiographical).

It’s like someone else speaks to Essun and other times sort of the audience? It’s sweet and idk, I liked it.

v Ykka

I know she’s not Ykka’s time but I totally shift it. Plus I love how Ykka’s feral orogeny gives her such a different perspective on the Earth and how it moves, more practical. It shifts Essun’s whole perspective on what a “feral” could be and it’s so adorable and I love the character development.

v Alabaster

TvT They’re such a great QPR. Like fuck Alabaster for triggering a season but him dying sucked ass. It made sense narratively but man, the feels.

Also lol, him being like “fuck teaching the kids” was hilarious when Essun is like “have you ever taught someone?” And then I’m like “Essun, you are a jackass to the kids. Terrifying students does not equal great teacher.”

I would not change that section. Just found my reactio amusing.

v Hoa

Hoa is laying it on, damn! Glad he got the grown up bod before doing that lol.

…

Schaffa

I kinda like Schaffa, on the other hand, god he somehow terrifies me more now that he can resist the Core Stone thing with how he still is on a genocide spree with that satellite Fulcrum.

Also, idk why but it still surprises me the Artic Fulcrum had no guardian but still kept breaking the hands of grits. Like… I know Essun got messed up but with a whole group of orogenes, you’d think they would want to upend it? Idk, it makes sense but it just makes me sad is all.

…

On the bright side, I was able to read the book in under a week without dissassociating which made for alot more pleasant read. I love The Fifth Season but between… everything, that was a hard af read. A good read but hard. This one’s more so sad.

I don’t know how to express how much I liked it. I want to say love like.. idk, feeling strong emotions can be weird? Idk fuck it, I loved it.

Prev: The Fifth Season

Sequel: [forgot the name]